radicalducati Chapter 441 Kunlun Again
Chapter 441 Kunlun Again
On the high-speed train back to Beijing from Wudang Mountain, Wang Ye wrapped the Zhenwu Sword in three layers of blue cloth and placed it horizontally on the inside of the luggage rack, its scabbard resting against a hiking backpack stuffed with changes of clothes. Wang Ye sat by the window, and every now and then he would unconsciously glance up in that direction to make sure it was still there before returning his gaze to the pages of his book. He repeated this action the entire journey, probably without even realizing it himself.
They only stopped in Beijing for one day. In those 24 hours, Nie Lingfeng went to Chairman Zhao's office to get the final coordinates and supply list; Zhang Chulan slept all day in his dormitory; Wang Ye practiced the starting stance of Tai Chi sword three times with the Zhenwu sword in the backyard; and Lu Linglong sat on the veranda holding the sword manual, reciting it from the first to the twelfth form. At four o'clock the next morning, the convoy set off again.
This time, the route was more direct than the last, skipping Xining and heading west along the Qinghai-Tibet Highway. The two vehicles took turns driving, only stopping briefly for refueling and changing drivers. The plateau scenery outside the car windows changed color layer by layer—from dawn to noon to dusk—becoming colder, paler, and more desolate with each increase in altitude. After Golmud, all that remained in sight was the gray-yellow Gobi Desert and the snow-white mountain ridge that always hung on the horizon.
Nie Lingfeng gripped the steering wheel, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, occasionally glancing at the right rearview mirror to make sure the cars behind him were following steadily. His posture was the same as the last time he entered Kunlun Mountain—his back was straight but his shoulders were relaxed, like a bird whose wings had not been fully folded, ready to flap at any moment, but currently still gliding.
"Brother Nie." Zhang Chulan, sitting in the passenger seat, lifted his face from the window. He had been staring at the endless Gobi Desert outside. "How many people do you think Qu Tong will drop on the mountain this time?"
"It won't be less," Nie Lingfeng said. "The group of people she used to corrode and seal the northern ridge last time probably haven't completely withdrawn yet. Plus, knowing we've obtained the True Martial Sword, she'll definitely increase her efforts."
"How much more?"
"Those between twenty and thirty are all elites."
"...Then there will be seven of us, plus one child."
"There are different ways to fight head-on and to attack from a distance. We don't need to wipe out everyone. We just need to distract her and disrupt her formation."
Zhang Chulan thought for a moment, then rested his chin on his arm and didn't ask any further questions.
By the time the convoy reached the scree slope at the foot of the mountain, the sky had turned a deep blue, and stars were emerging one by one from the eastern horizon. A wind blew down from the direction of the glacier, carrying a very faint, almost odorless metallic scent, exactly the same as the one they had smelled last time.
Nie Lingfeng parked the car in a secluded, dry riverbed, where the raised stone walls on both sides completely covered the roof. After turning off the engine, he sat still for a few seconds, rolled down the window a crack, and listened for a while to the sounds carried by the wind.
"There's someone up there," he said.
"How far?"
"Between the eastern ridge and the front of the ice wall, it's about three or four hundred paces. The lights in the tents are blocked by the mountain, but judging from the heat carried down by the airflow, at least five tents are operating."
Zhang Chulan pulled a pair of low-light night-vision goggles from his glove box, put them on, and peeked out from the edge of the rock wall for a few moments. When he pulled back, his expression darkened slightly: "Five tents, distributed in front of the ice wall and on both sides. The largest one in the middle has a signal antenna on its roof. Qu Tong is most likely inside."
"Anything else?" Nie Lingfeng asked.
"On the exposed section of the seal at the bottom of the ice wall, there are some metal supports fixed to the ice surface, with thin wires connecting the supports. They don't look like explosive wiring to me; they look more like some kind of detection device." Zhang Chulan took off his night-vision goggles and handed them to Nie Lingfeng. "A sensor to measure the stability of the seal."
"She's more meticulously prepared than last time." Nie Lingfeng took the night-vision goggles, quickly glanced at them, handed them back, then opened the car door and jumped out. "The original plan remains unchanged. Chu Lan, you take Bao Bao, Qiu'er, Ling Yu, Linglong, and Lu Lin, and go around from the east side. First, distract the attention of those four outer tents. Know how to handle the situation—don't linger, just force them back towards the main tent, leaving a gap on the west side for us to pass through."
"clear."
"Master Wang, Duo'er, follow me along the western ridge. Go down from the rock ledge at the top of the ice wall and land directly above the sealing point." Nie Lingfeng turned to Wang Ye. "You approach the sealing array from above and reinforce it with sword intent directly from the True Martial Sword. If Qu Tong reacts faster than expected, I'll stop her from below; don't stop."
Wang Ye tightened the knot of the Zhenwu Sword wrapped in blue cloth on his shoulder and nodded: "How much reinforcement we can achieve depends on the remaining structure of the seal itself. But as long as we can access the core of the formation, I'm confident of at least 70-80% success."
"That's enough."
Nie Lingfeng took one last look at Xiaoyun in Chen Duo's arms. The little girl was wrapped in a thick down jumpsuit, with only her eyes showing, intently watching the stars. She felt his gaze, turned her head and winked at him, but said nothing.
"Walk."
Two groups of people dispersed from opposite ends of the dry riverbed, trudging through the gravel and frozen ground towards the ridgelines on either side. Nie Lingfeng chose the western ridgeline, which was steeper than the eastern one, with near-vertical rock walls at his feet. He had to use crampons to grip firmly with each step before pushing upwards. Wang Ye followed behind him, the Zhenwu sword wrapped in cloth on his back barely visible in the night, but every time he moved, he would touch the spine of the sword with the back of his hand to make sure it was still there.
Chen Duo walked at the back, her steps lighter than the other two, like a feline gliding across the edge of snow and rock. Her gaze had no fixed point, but she would pause for a moment every time she climbed up a section, glancing down in a certain direction to make sure that the activity inside the tents wasn't shifting in their direction.
As they climbed to the rocky ledge at the top of the ice wall, a muffled boom suddenly echoed from the valley to the east, followed by the crackling of flying debris and several urgent shouts. Figures moved rapidly across the snow below; one of the lights was knocked over, its beam sweeping erratically across the sky before going out.
"They've made their move." Nie Lingfeng peered down from the edge of the ledge. The open space in front of the ice wall was rapidly turning into chaos. Zhang Chulan's figure flashed through the gaps between the tents, followed by two or three figures chasing after him. But he disappeared after vaulting over a low ice ridge, leaving the pursuers empty-handed and now circling around looking for their target. Immediately afterward, the exit of the tent on the other side was smashed down from the outside. As the people inside rushed out, they collided head-on with Feng Baobao's katana. A series of sparks from the clash of metal briefly shone in the night before going out.
"Let's go down." Nie Lingfeng braced his hands on the edge of the rock ledge, and as he flipped his body outward, he used his left foot to gain leverage on a protruding icicle. He fell vertically for nearly ten meters, the scabbard of his Snow Drinking Blade drawing an arc on the ice wall to control his speed. When he landed, his knees bent to absorb the impact, and he made almost no sound.