Chapter 291: Longyan Battle Record (14)

Chen Youshou laboriously sat himself up in bed. Reaching for his crutch, he dragged his injured leg, endured the bone-grinding pain, and limped out the door.

As a veteran of the Bandit Gang who was still fighting on the front lines of robbery in his forties and refused to leave the battlefield over minor wounds, Chen Youshou was entitled to a private room; most of the others slept in a communal bunkhouse at night.

Originally, Chen Youshou had not wanted to get out of bed — tormented by his leg wound, all he wanted now was to sleep. Yet reality forced him to get up and check the situation: as a seasoned old bandit, any unusual circumstance would set off his alarm, even when he was inside the safest of bandit lairs.

What was the unusual circumstance? It was too quiet.

Normally, outside Chen Youshou's window it was very rowdy. At noon today, the Yantou Stronghold Bandit Gang, having successfully held the grand superstition forum, had seized the moment to convene a combined appreciation and mobilization drinking party.

The pigs, sheep, and strong liquor sent up the mountain by Lin Chaofeng were immediately put to use; the trickling sound of pouring wine and the bandits' wild shouting and drinking contests resounded throughout the entire stronghold.

Even Chen Youshou, lying in bed, got no peace: several of his old subordinates not only carried over a jar of strong liquor the men had never tasted before, but also scrambled to tell him everything that had just happened.

And aside from not drinking because of his leg wound, Chen Youshou was quite pleased by the rest of what he heard: the stronghold had finally gained a capable advisor; surely, from now on, everyone would prosper and flourish.

After this, he remained in a half-dreaming, half-waking state — outside, people kept loudly talking from time to time. Unknowingly, he finally fell asleep. And when he woke up, judging by the color outside the window, Chen Youshou knew it was now mid-afternoon.

After lying in bed with his eyes open for a while, he suddenly sensed something was off: it was too quiet.

According to the Bandit Gang's usual party routine, this bout of drinking would not break up until at least after dark. As for the entire stronghold falling quiet, that normally happened only after midnight, because there were too many drunks making noise everywhere.

Yet today was damned strange; after lying in bed for a while, Chen Youshou simply could not hear a single sound. Feeling it was absurd, Old Chen pricked up his ears in bed and waited a while longer, only to find it was still utterly silent outside the window — a completely different environment from before he fell asleep.

The next moment, he strained his throat and bellowed a few times. But it was no use; outside the window there was still no response.

Realizing the situation was somewhat amiss, Chen Youshou no longer hesitated. He hurriedly endured the pain and sat up from the bed, grabbed his crutch, and went out the door.

Outside the door, all was silence.

And when he rounded the corner of the house and circled past a clump of scrub trees, he inadvertently breathed a sigh of relief — he spotted three bandits.

These were three drunks. They lay sprawled and staggering across a "dining table" formed by several large square stones, overturned wine pitchers discarded beside them, half-gnawed ducks strewn on the stone surface, and vomited filth beneath their feet.

Seeing this scene, Chen Youshou cursed them laughingly as he hobbled over on his crutch. Once he reached them, he shoved each one a few times and found that only one could still mumble a few nonsense words; the other two, reeking of alcohol, had already drunk themselves unconscious.

"Lin Chaofeng really sent some fine wine this time!" Finding he could not rouse the drunks, Chen Youshou shook his head and turned toward the Mountain Gate.

Chen Youshou's lighthearted cheer vanished without a trace the instant he reached the clearing behind the Mountain Gate. With a clang, the crutch in his hand fell to the ground.

What appeared before his eyes was a grand tableau of realist savagery: on the long banquet table pieced together from rows of desks, over a hundred bandits, without exception, had all drunk themselves completely unconscious. They sprawled and lay prostrate across the long table, posed in every conceivable posture, yet not a single one of them stirred.

Under the bright midday sun, the entire clearing was utterly silent; the human forms, rising and falling like sculptures, appeared both eerie and farcical.

From the very first glance, Chen Youshou felt as if a basin of ice water had been poured over his head. He absolutely did not believe that over a hundred men could all get this drunk, even if what they drank was so-called strong liquor.

Panic-stricken, he did not even have time to pick up his crutch; dragging his injured leg, he shuffled forward in great strides, utterly disregarding the wound that was now splitting open.

Once he reached the banquet table, Chen Youshou shouted as he pulled the bandits up one by one for close inspection. Upon looking, he did discover a clue: most of them were actually still alive, only they could no longer move.

Without exception, these men had blue-purple faces, were drenched in sweat, their hands and faces twitching, unable to form complete sentences; at first glance, they looked exactly like they were drunk.

In that moment, the hairs on Chen Youshou's body stood on end: he dared to conclude that everyone had eaten something they should not have, or had been poisoned by someone.

After casting a circle around him, though he stood amidst a crowd of people, Chen Youshou felt a bone-chilling terror. At once he threw down the drunk in his hands and hurried urgently toward the Hall of Assembly.

Along the path to the Hall of Assembly, bandits lay collapsed in twos and threes all along the way. Chen Youshou paid no heed to these figures still faintly twitching and went straight into the Hall of Assembly. After making a round inside and finding that among the several dozen drunks in the hall there was no sign of the Great Boss Ma Shixia or the Second-in-Command Lin Hu, he turned and headed toward the Great Boss's quarters.

Just as expected, Ma Shixia and Lin Hu, along with two other headmen, were all inside the room. When Chen Youshou, leaving a bloody footprint with every step and dragging his leg with its split-open wound, arrived in the room, he found Ma Shixia collapsed on the bed, the other three lying on the floor, and on the table a mess of cups, dishes, and two jars of strong liquor.

After a terrified shout, Chen Youshou rushed to the bedside, intending to help the Great Boss up.

Yet the tall and heavyset Ma Shixia was simply not someone he could lift — at this moment, Great Boss Ma's face was turning blue, and both his hands were twitching like chicken claws. One could see that the Great Boss was desperately trying to say something, but with white foam spilling from his mouth, he could only produce a few meaningless gurgling sounds from his throat.

Chen Youshou's heart was filled with despair: this condition matched none of the poisons he knew of. One had to understand that in ancient times, whether it was the most commonly used arsenic or plant-based poisons like heartbreak grass, the symptoms upon onset almost always included "agonizing abdominal cramps."

That is to say, a poisoned person actually retained the ability to move; before death, a person could roll on the ground and scream. Yet today's poison symptoms — total paralysis, inability to speak, the appearance of drunkenness — were beyond the scope of Chen Youshou's knowledge.

Chen Youshou had no recourse at this moment; he could only endure the pain and sit on the bed first, then laboriously prop Ma Shixia's head on his own thigh, reach for a water canteen nearby, and prepare to pour some water for the Great Boss.

Just then, the door creaked open as someone pushed it from outside.

Chen Youshou looked up in panic, but the next moment he was overjoyed: the person who entered was none other than the Blue Great Master, dressed in a plain-colored Daoist robe.

"Sir, Sir, where were you just now? Everyone's been plotted against! Surely you didn't eat any of that food and wine? Quickly, save the Great Boss!"

Chen Youshou was now completely incoherent. Having moved alone for half the day through a stronghold that felt like a ghost realm, now suddenly seeing a living person in Lan Da, he immediately hurled a string of questions at him.

"Just came down from the Watchtower; the men at the sentry posts are done for too." Hearing this string of questions, the Blue Great Master nodded with a grave expression and walked over quickly: "The wine was poisoned; everyone's fallen for it. Hmm, you're wounded, and I eat vegetarian — as of now, you and I are the only living souls left in the stronghold."

As Mr. Lan spoke, he shook a green gourd in his hand, then pulled out the stopper and poured several mouthfuls of an unknown liquid into Ma Shixia's mouth.

"Sir, you must have prepared an antidote? What kind of poisoned wine is this? So vicious!" Only then did Chen Youshou notice the gourd in Lan Da's hand. Seeing the Sir pour medicine into the Great Boss, he could not help but be wild with joy and pressed him with questions.

"Did you think the poison in this wine is so easily neutralized?" After finishing pouring the liquid for Ma Shixia, Lan Da turned and walked to the other side of the room, crouched down, and began pouring the liquid into the mouths of the three headmen on the floor, one by one.

At the same time, Mr. Lan said leisurely: "This wine was laced with barium chloride. To mask the gastrointestinal irritation and delay the onset of muscle paralysis, morphine was also added. Not even an immortal could save them!"

Chen Youshou could not understand those terms. Although a vague sense of unease was already growing in his heart, he still asked out of habit: "'Barium chloride?' Never heard of it. Then what medicine is that you're feeding them?"

By now, Mr. Lan had finished feeding the "antidote" to the last headman on the floor. He smoothly stood up, shook the gourd in his hand at Chen Youshou, and said with a smile: "This is well water mixed with barium chloride — a large 5-gram dose, specially prepared to give the headmen a free refill."

"Ah! You, you, you — it was you!" Chen Youshou understood everything in that instant. Sitting on the bed, one arm cradling the Great Boss's head, he pointed at Lan Da with the other, his face full of fury, a rasping sound coming from his throat: "You — who exactly are you?!"

"Imperial Intelligence Agency, Third Division, Special Agent Nan Wang. Codename: 'Chemist.'"

Mr. Lan smilingly announced his title.

"You're from the government?" Chen Youshou did not understand that string of strange words; relying on instinct, he guessed his opponent's identity.

"Indeed." Lan Da nodded.

"Ah!" With a great shout, Chen Youshou made to throw his whole body forward, intending to perish together with the government demon who had wiped out the entire stronghold's brothers.

But Ma Shixia's body hindered him. Just as he moved the Great Boss's body aside, a gunshot rang out with a bang, and a 9mm-caliber bullet hole appeared in the center of Chen Youshou's brow.

"I pointed out a path for you all earlier. Who told you to refuse to be the government's dogs?" After firing, Nan Wang sighed lightly as he slowly put away the compact P226 pistol in his hand. After this, he took a handkerchief from his bosom, bent down, wrapped the shell casing in the handkerchief, and carefully stowed it away.

Having done all this, Nan Wang walked to the bedside and glanced at Ma Shixia.

At this moment, Ma Shixia's pupils had already begun to dilate; he had less than two minutes to live.

Seeing this, Nan Wang turned and left the room. He walked to the banquet area, hoisted a chair onto his shoulder, and carried it to the Mountain Gate. After laboriously pushing open the Mountain Gate, he placed the chair before it and sat down with an imposing, confident air.

The next moment, he took a cigarette from his bosom, lit it, and exhaled blue smoke as he gazed at the distant mountains, sinking deep into recollection.