Chapter 76: Wilderness Pursuit

Outside Changchun, in the ruined temple, Li Ping'an flashed out of the space, holding a steaming mantou. This Spiritual Spring Space is really a good place—it can not only hide him, but also let him eat a hot meal.

He had just taken a bite when his ear twitched—faint engine sounds came from afar. What are the Japanese Soldiers doing out in this wilderness?

He furtively peered through the broken window—damn! Three trucks were hauling Japanese Soldiers this way, with a few wolf‑dogs trailing behind. These bastards really never quit, even this god‑forsaken place isn't spared.

Li Ping'an smirked inwardly, not rushing, slowly finishing his mantou. Seeing the Japanese Soldiers draw nearer, he calmly slipped back into the space. Good, a little rest—let those stupid dogs wander outside.

Inside the space it was warm as spring; he took a comfortable bath, then practiced some fist and foot moves. Judging that outside should have quieted down, he reemerged.

Sure enough, the Japanese Soldiers had vanished, leaving only messy tire tracks and footprints in the snow. Following the footprints, he laughed—those idiots had gone the opposite direction, having come for nothing.

He tidied up and prepared to head toward Fushun.

He hailed a rickshaw straight for the train station. Along the way he noticed many wanted posters posted on the streets, bearing his likeness—though only about seventy‑percent similar, the bounty had already risen to fifteen thousand silver dollars.

Talk about going all out.

The train station was heavily guarded; all passengers had to undergo strict inspection. Li Ping'an was pondering how to board when he overheard two railway workers chatting.

Have you heard? That old bastard Zhao Tingxi scared the shit out of himself, insisting on being transferred to the Fushun Coal Mine as some security section chief… No kidding! I heard Cheng Bin and Zhang Xiufeng died a miserable death… shh… keep it down…

Li Ping'an's heart stirred. Zhao Tingxi going to Fushun? Talk about hitting the nail on the head!

Three days later, outskirts of the Fushun Coal Mine. Li Ping'an crouched on a small hill looking down—wow, this deployment is no small thing. Watchtowers, barbed wire, patrol squads—tighter than a prison guard.

He wasn't in a hurry; he found an abandoned coal kiln nearby to squat in, daily observing the mine's movements. Though the kiln leaked wind, its concealment was a plus, plus it was close enough to see who came and went.

Sure enough, on the third day afternoon he saw a big‑eared, fat‑headed lackey emerge from the mine surrounded by a retinue of bodyguards—none other than Zhao Tingxi. This old guy wore a wool overcoat, sported a beer belly, and was gesturing at his subordinates.

Li Ping'an narrowed his eyes, having figured it out. Judging by this routine, Zhao Tingxi must come out to patrol at this time every day.

The next day at the same time, Li Ping'an had already lain in wait at a corner on Zhao Tingxi's obligatory route. This spot was a visual blind spot, and being near the slag heap, nobody usually came by.

Sure enough, not long after came Zhao Tingxi's cursing voice drawing near: "…All of you, stay sharp! If anything goes wrong, the His Majesty will blame us…"

Before he finished speaking, Li Ping'an flashed out like a ghost, one hand clapping over his mouth, the other a dagger already at his throat: "Don't move, or you die."

Those few bodyguards hadn't even reacted before Li Ping'an kicked them to the ground. One reaching for his gun instantly got a bloody hole in his wrist.

Zhao Tingxi was so scared his pants were wet, his whole body trembling like chaff: "Spare me, hero! Money can be talked about…"

Li Ping'an dragged him behind the coal pile and said coldly: "Did Commander Yang treat you well?"

Zhao Tingxi's face turned ashen: "You… you are… the brothers you sold out are waiting for you down below."

"I… I was forced too…" Zhao Tingxi, nose running and tears streaming, blubbered: "Cheng Bin defected first; if I hadn't followed…"

"So you led the Japanese Soldiers to harm the civilians?" Li Ping'an pushed the dagger forward, "Those soldiers who froze to death in the snow—did you ever think of giving them a way to live?"

Zhao Tingxi wanted to quibble, but Li Ping'an had no patience. He slit the dagger, ending the traitor's life. As usual he left a note marking the fate of a traitor, then pocketed the man's gold watch and cash wallet.

Just as he was about to leave, footsteps sounded in the distance. Li Ping'an darted behind the coal pile, only to see two miners‑dressed men whispering.

Have you heard? That bastard Li Zhengxin fled to Tonghua! Really? Absolutely true! My fellow townsman saw him in Tonghua, renamed Li Fugui, working as a foreman in a logging camp run by the Japanese! Damn! Such a traitor who forgets his roots!

Li Ping'an's heart moved. Tonghua? That saves me the trouble of gathering intel.

He quietly left the coal mine and headed toward Tonghua, taking extra care—choosing mountain paths, and at night hiding in the space to rest.

That night, in the space he tallied his recent gains. Quite a haul—those traitors really raked in a lot: boxes of gold bars and silver dollars, plus plenty of jewelry. This ill‑gotten wealth will someday fund the anti‑Japanese cause.

As he neared Tonghua the next day, he found a secluded spot, dressed himself as a poor lumberjack, smeared his face with coal dust, and tore his clothes in a few places. That way he could slip into the logging camp without raising suspicion.

Sure enough, at the logging camp the Japanese guards saw his penniless look, couldn't be bothered to question him, and let him pass. Li Ping'an pretended to look for work while secretly observing.

He soon spotted Li Zhengxin—this guy was sitting in the office warming himself by the fire and sipping tea, dressed in a silk‑cotton robe, wearing a gold ring on his hand, the very picture of a local tyrant.

Li Ping'an wasn't in a rush; he first worked at the logging camp for two days to get the lay of the land. During that time he also heard that Li Zhengxin especially feared death, so at night he kept two bodyguards outside his door.

On the third night, dark and windy. Li Ping'an silently crept to the rear window of Li Zhengxin's wooden hut. Sure enough, two bodyguards were dozing at the door.

He gently pried open the window and slipped inside. Li Zhengxin was snoring away, sound asleep. Li Ping'an showed no courtesy, directly pouring a basin of cold water over him.

Li Zhengxin jolted awake with a shiver, about to shout, but was met with an icy dagger at his throat.

"Spare me, hero! Money's in the drawer… Do you know Zhao Tingxi?" Li Ping'an asked coldly.

Li Zhengxin's face went white: "You… you are… Commander Yang sent me to tell you: the brothers are waiting for you down below."

Li Zhengxin dropped to his knees: "Spare me, hero! I was forced too… Every traitor says that." Li Ping'an kicked him over, "Did the villagers you harmed ever get any mercy?"

A flash of cold light— the dagger finished him. Li Ping'an left his usual note, took the money and valuables.

As he walked out of the logging camp, dawn was breaking. Li Ping'an glanced back and exhaled a long plume of white vapor.

Four traitors, finally cleaned up. Next, it's time to settle accounts with the real mastermind.

Miyamoto Musashi, and those Unit 731 beasts—heard you've been looking for me all along.

He tipped his cap, his silhouette vanishing into the morning mist. Next step, return to Harbin. Some old scores also need to be settled.