Chapter 248: Encountering an Ambush Again

The bombed-out railway tracks lay like twisted black scars across the vast snowy plain, silently recounting the recent peril. The freight train, like a weary iron beast, panted to a halt behind the damaged section, unable to move forward.

Repairs would take time, but the cargo transport mission could not be delayed. After emergency consultations with the local garrison and railway authorities, a new plan was quickly decided: the remaining distance would be covered by truck.

Soon, a makeshift convoy of five old Liberation-brand CA-10 trucks and one GAZ-69 jeep appeared beside the railway, braving the flying snow. Against the endless white backdrop, these black vehicles looked especially tiny and lonely.

"Comrades! The time to test us has come!" Li Ping'an stood before the convoy, his voice clear and strong despite the cold wind, "If the railway is out, we'll use truck wheels to get the supplies through! The road may be harder and more dangerous—do you have confidence?"

"Yes!" the crew shouted in unison, their exhaled breath merging into a white mist, their faces showing the toughness forged by wind, snow, and duty.

The transfer of supplies proceeded tense yet orderly. The heavy special steel was carefully lifted from the train carriages onto the trucks, repeatedly reinforced with thick canvas and rope to ensure absolute safety on the bumpy mountain road.

Li Ping'an personally inspected every binding point, his hand brushing over the cold steel, as if he could feel the weight of the nation's trust within it.

These trucks, reinforced and fitted with anti-skid chains, would be the main force for the rest of the journey. "Check the vehicles' fuel, spare tires, especially the anti-skid chains, and verify once more. We'll depart in ten minutes."

The wheels rolled, the iron dragon pulled away from the platform, leaving the city's silhouette behind. Outside the window, the scenery gradually yielded to an endless expanse of white. Fields, villages, and forests were all blanketed in thick snow, reflecting a monotonous, icy light under the overcast sky.

The temperature plummeted; inside the carriage, even bundled in heavy cotton coats and wearing dog-skin hats, the crew's hands and feet went numb, and they could only stave off the chill by constantly stamping their feet and pressing together for warmth.

Li Ping'an sat in the front passenger seat of the lead vehicle; his qi and blood circulated like a gentle warm current, quietly keeping most of the cold at bay.

His divine perception spread like invisible antennae from himself, continuously covering a radius of nearly a hundred meters. The snow-covered roadbed, the distant bare branches, the occasional telegraph pole—every detail was etched in his mind as a clear image. This extraordinary sense was his greatest reliance in facing unknown dangers.

The vehicles traveled on the national highway, fairly smoothly. Apart from the slippery road making progress difficult, and the occasional need to get out and push, nothing unusual occurred.

At noon, the convoy turned onto a branch road leading into the mountains. The surface grew narrower and more rugged, the snow deeper, with rolling snow‑covered hills and barren woods on either side, and human habitation grew ever sparser.

Between heaven and earth, only the convoy's engine roar and the grating of wheels on snow remained, and a lonely, tense atmosphere permeated the group.

"Everyone, stay alert! This stretch isn't peaceful!" Li Ping'an warned the following vehicles over the intercom.

Indeed, as the convoy struggled up a hilltop and prepared to descend, Li Ping'an's divine perception suddenly picked up a faint metallic scrape and… a heartbeat! —more than one—coming from behind a snow‑covered berm a hundred meters ahead.

"Ambush! Slow down! Prepare for battle!" Li Ping'an barked, snatching up the rifle resting on his thigh.

Almost simultaneously!

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Several sharp gunshots shattered the silence of the snowy plain! Bullets struck the road ahead of the lead vehicle, kicking up slush and ice shards!

"Enemy fire! Take cover!" Li Ping'an growled; the driver reacted instantly, jerking the steering wheel to swing the front of the vehicle sideways as a makeshift shield. The following vehicles slammed on the brakes, crew members leapt out, and using the wheels and roadbed for cover, they returned fire.

For a moment, gunfire crackled like popping beans, echoing through the valley!

Li Ping'an used the car door for cover, his divine perception locked firmly on the area behind the berm. There lay about five or six people in white camouflage, nearly blending with the snow, wielding a motley assortment of weapons but employing tricky marksmanship—clearly trained bandits.

"Wang Dahu, take a group and flank from the right to suppress fire! Second team, hold the left!" Li Ping'an issued the orders swiftly, his voice as calm as an ice‑sealed lake.

The crew followed orders, and their crossfire temporarily suppressed the enemy's attack.

But Li Ping'an knew that a stalemate would work against them; the enemy held the terrain, and who knew if they had more tricks? A quick, decisive fight was needed.

He drew a deep breath and told the teammate beside him, "Cover me!"

Before his words finished, he flung open the car door and slipped out like a ghost, stepping with the Carefree Step; on the snow‑covered, uneven roadbed his form flickered, moving so fast he left only a faint shadow. The biting wind howled in his ears, yet it could not affect him in the slightest.

Bullets whizzed past him, striking the snow and leaving shocking holes. Li Ping'an, relying on his divine perception to anticipate trajectories and his master‑level body technique, always dodged lethal attacks by a hair's breadth, swiftly closing in on the berm.

Eighty meters, fifty meters, thirty meters…

The bandits behind the berm clearly hadn't expected anyone to dare such a fearless frontal charge, especially at an unimaginable speed! In a panic, they poured even denser fire upon him.

Li Ping'an's eyes turned icy; while moving at high speed he raised his rifle, needing no aim—relying solely on divine perception and muscle memory—and fired two precise shots: "Bang! Bang!"

"Ah!" a scream rang out as a bandit who had just peeked out had his brow burst with blood and fell backward.

Another shot struck the edge of the berm where a bandit hid, spraying frozen earth chunks that made him yelp in pain.

Seizing the moment when their fire faltered, Li Ping'an lunged forward like a leopard to the berm! He pressed his left hand on the edge, pushed off, and flipped over, his right hand now gripping a cold‑glinting dagger.

The instant he landed among the bandits, he was like a tiger among sheep! His dagger traced an icy arc, cleanly slicing the wrist of a bandit about to swing his gun; a reverse elbow smashed into another's chest, producing a clear crack of bone that set the teeth on edge.

His movements held no flourish—pure battlefield‑honed killing skill, blending Tai Chi's listening and releasing force with the fierce, violent power of Eight‑Level Fist; each strike went straight for a vital point, terrifyingly efficient.

The remaining three bandits were terrified by this sudden close‑quarters slaughter and tried to resist, but against Li Ping'an's ghost‑like footwork and absolute strength, their opposition was like a mantis trying to stop a chariot. Daggers flew, fists and feet flew, and in just a dozen seconds the area behind the berm held only groans and lifeless corpses.

Li Ping'an stood, breathing slightly hard, his gaze sweeping the scene to confirm no further threat. He bent down and, from the pocket of a still‑twitching bandit, pulled out a paper strip half‑soaked in blood, on which a crude pencil sketch of a simple terrain map and convoy details had been drawn.

"Clear the scene, check casualties!" Li Ping'an ordered Wang Dahu and the others rushing over.

In this skirmish, one of our crew members had his arm grazed by a stray bullet, with no fatalities. We killed four enemies, seriously wounded one (Li Ping'an broke his ribs, rendering him immobile), and lightly wounded another (a wrist cut).

Interrogating the lightly wounded bandit took little effort; having been terrified by Li Ping'an's inhuman skill, he spilled the beans like a bamboo tube emptied. They were a gang of fleeing outlaws, acting under the orders and benefits of "those above," who had placed this ambush specifically to destroy the convoy, seize or destroy this "important cargo."

"Those above?" Li Ping'an frowned, wondering whether this was linked to the enemy agents he had previously captured, or if another force was eyeing this "iron backbone."

With no further clues, he ordered the prisoners and corpses handed over to the arriving local public security forces; the convoy dared not linger, and after a brief rest it set off again immediately.

After this baptism by blood and fire, the convoy's atmosphere grew more solemn. The crew looked at Li Ping'an with awe and conviction. This young section chief was not only extraordinarily wise, his combat ability was terrifying.

Li Ping'an returned to the vehicle, gazing out at the still‑vast snowy plain, his eyes deep. He knew this would certainly not be the last attack; the closer they got to their destination, the more frenzied the hidden enemies might become.

He touched the bottle of Spirit Spring Water in his pocket, took a sip, and felt the warm current dispel his fatigue. The road remained long, danger lurked everywhere, yet he felt no fear, only a firmer resolve.

No matter how many hardships and perils, how many monsters and ghosts, nothing could stop his determination to deliver the "iron backbone" safely. This was not merely a mission; it was a responsibility—to the nation, and to the countless eyes behind him that hoped for success.

The wheels once again rolled over the snow, heading north toward the armaments factory that bore the nation's defense hopes, advancing without wavering.