Chapter 313: Thunderclap in the Gobi

Li Ping'an-led convoy, like a few lone leaves, drove away from the city's clamor and plunged into the vast, boundless northwestern Gobi.

Wheels rolled over sand and stone, kicking up clouds of yellow dust; heaven and earth seemed to hold only a bleak, mighty hue. The closer they got to the destination, the tighter Li Ping'an's heartstrings grew, for he knew this seemingly lifeless desert concealed power capable of reshaping the world order—and would inevitably draw the gaze of all sides.

Sure enough, as they entered the final, most remote stretch of the planned route, an accident occurred.

It was a dusk with rising winds and sand, visibility beginning to drop. The guard on outpost duty suddenly sounded the alarm—behind the flank dunes, an unidentified vehicle was spotted tailing them, suspicious!

"All personnel, be on alert! Follow Plan Three, alternate covering fire, accelerate through the dangerous sector!" Li Ping'an's voice rang through the convoy via simple comms, calm without a ripple. He had long anticipated every scenario, drilled the contingency plan countless times.

The convoy surged forward, but the tailing "ghost" like a jackal scenting blood lunged from behind the dunes—two modified, powerful Jeeps! Their windows rolled down, revealing yawning black muzzles.

"Bang! bang!"

The sharp gunfire shattered the Gobi's silence, bullets striking the truck's thick armor and tarp, emitting a piercing impact sound.

"Secret agents! Suppressing fire! Aim for the tires and drivers!" Li Ping'an's eyes sharp as an eagle, he personally grabbed an issued Type 56 submachine gun, braced on the window, and a precise point-blank shot shattered the lead Jeep's windshield into a spiderweb of cracks; the driver jerked the wheel in panic, sending the vehicle skidding across the sand in a twisted track.

The convoy's personnel were all hand-picked experts, unflappable in crisis, using the vehicles to form a makeshift defensive position, laying down crossing fire, precise and fierce. For a moment, gunfire roared across the Gobi plain, bullets whistling, shockwaves lofting yellow sand several meters high.

Li Ping'an commanded while keenly observing the battlefield. He saw that these secret agents were well-trained and well-equipped, clearly prepared in advance, their target straight at the convoy's cargo. They must not succeed!

He seized the moment, using the lull in our suppressing fire, leapt out from behind the vehicle like a leopard, using the terrain's undulations to swiftly close on the other Jeep attempting to flank. His Carefree Step unfolded to perfection—poised like a drawn bow, released like thunder! As he neared the vehicle, he sprang up, one hand grabbing the frame, the other holding his Type 54 pistol already pressed against the temple of the passenger-side secret agent.

"Stop! Or die!" he said in a low voice, yet it carried icy killing intent.

The secret agent inside the vehicle was terrified by this sudden close-quarters move, his soul fleeing; the driver instinctively stomped the brake. Li Ping'an flicked his wrist, the gun butt slammed hard into the agent's neck; the man didn't even grunt before passing out. Seeing this, the driver lost all will to resist and surrendered with hands up.

With their leader subdued, the secret agents on the other Jeep saw the situation, morale collapsed, and under the convoy's fierce counterfire they quickly had their tires blown out, left stranded in the sand. Seeing the hopelessness, the remaining foes abandoned their vehicles, using the wind and sand for cover, and fled deep into the desert.

"Don't pursue a desperate foe! Inspect the vehicles, tally the supplies, treat the wounded, withdraw from the contact zone quickly!" Li Ping'an ordered decisively.

The battle was brief but fierce; our side suffered only two light injuries, supplies intact—a total victory. He ordered the captives and seized vehicles taken along, and quickly left that troubled place.

After enduring hardships, the convoy finally reached the secret base that bore no mark on any map yet was guarded by countless loyal and fervent hearts.

The handover was strict and efficient, silence speaking louder than words. When that heavy responsibility was finally lifted, seeing the base personnel receive the supplies with solemn, excited eyes, Li Ping'an and all the team felt a surge of indescribable pride and calm. They knew their hardship and danger were of extraordinary significance.

Mission accomplished, higher command specially approved the unit to rest and recuperate for several days at the nearby garrison.

Free from high tension, the members finally had a chance to experience the land's difference. Li Ping'an gave everyone time off, allowing them to take turns visiting the nearby market, specifically cautioning: "You may buy Xinjiang specialties—red dates, baked flatbread, fruits are fine—but you must go in company, stay safe, and never act alone."

The members cheered and went. Li Ping'an himself strolled into the market. Here brimmed with rich exotic flair, the air floated with the charred aroma of grilled mutton skewers, the sweet scent of fruit, and a distinctive spice fragrance. Uyghur elders in vivid ethnic dress called out with rising and falling cadence.

He carefully selected, buying some superb Hetian large dates, each plump, color like agate; he bought several basin-sized, baked golden‑crisp flatbreads; and picked a few Hami melons and apples with ruddy hue.

As he paid, he already had a plan: these seeds or seedlings could later be tried for planting in the Spiritual Spring Space; if successful, his home would have an endless supply of fresh fruit.

What further moved him was a corner of the market where herds of cattle and sheep gathered. The Gobi's limited water and grass meant these livestock weren't especially fat, but they were numerous.

A thought flashed: the Steel Rolling Mill employed tens of thousands of workers, whose meals rarely saw meat; if he could purchase a batch of cattle and sheep here to bring back, even if each person got only a little, it would be a great improvement. This would both benefit the factory and serve as a return to the land and the garrison that had helped them along the way.

He immediately went to the garrison's communications office, placed a long‑distance call to the Steel Rolling Mill, and dialed Li Huaide directly.

"Factory Director Li, the mission has been completed successfully. I am now resting at the Xinjiang garrison. Here livestock resources are abundant and prices are much lower than inland. I wonder whether the factory could fund the purchase of a batch to bring back, to improve the workers' meals? This would also demonstrate the factory leadership's concern for workers' lives." Li Ping'an laid out his idea fully, and emphasized its political significance and its role in boosting worker morale.

On the other end, Li Huaide, who had been worrying about finding a chance to win hearts and consolidate power, heard the idea and instantly saw great potential! This was a genuine political achievement and a fine opportunity to buy loyalty! He hardly hesitated, snapping: "Good! Comrade Ping'an, your proposal is excellent! It fully reflects our factory leadership's constant concern for workers' lives! I'll have finance remit the funds right away! You're fully in charge, within budget, buy as much as possible! Be sure to get this done!"

With the factory's backing and Li Huaide's "imperial sword", Li Ping'an sprang into action. Relying on solid credentials and meticulous arrangements, he negotiated with the local garrison and herders, at a fair price, ordering a considerable number of live sheep and cattle.

While waiting for the vehicles to be loaded, he took advantage of nobody's notice and quietly slipped a few pairs of the healthiest, most vigorous calves and lambs into the Spiritual Spring Space, unbeknownst to anyone. The space abounded with lush watergrass and pleasant climate, an ideal place to breed livestock. Given time, not only would his household have no shortage of meat, but perhaps...

Thinking of this, even with Li Ping'an's steadiness, the corner of his mouth twitched into a smile. This northwestern journey, though fraught with danger, ultimately resulted in mission accomplished, rich personal gains, and a merit for the factory. It was a case of risk and opportunity coexisting, effort and reward balanced.

When the massive convoy, laden with Xinjiang specialties and herds of cattle and sheep, set off in mighty array back to Four Nine City, Li Ping'an stood in the passenger seat of the lead vehicle, gazing back at the receding Gobi and Tian Shan, his heart filled with myriad emotions.

This land bore witness to his loyalty and courage, and rewarded him with unexpected gains. Ahead awaited him, as before, that bustling courtyard house rife with open and covert strife, and the Steel Rolling Mill roiling anew. Yet now his heart was full, his steps firm.