Chapter 86: Was This All Your Doing?

The courtyard was utterly silent, save for the occasional chirping of insects and birds.

Yu Dazhang stood in the center of the courtyard, swiftly scanning the bodies on the ground.

He then tossed the weapons from the corpses to one side.

The officers at the gate also approached, gathering the weapons and carrying them into the self-built house.

Yu Dazhang pulled out a magazine, reloading as he said to the officer:

“Stay here. Don’t go anywhere.”

The officer nodded:

“You be careful.”

Seeing no further danger, Yu Dazhang hurried out of the courtyard.

On the blue stone path outside, he oriented himself and headed swiftly toward the location where the gunshots had been fired.

Along the way, as he passed each household’s gate, he slowed down to observe carefully.

He paid extra attention to the tops of walls, fearing ambushes.

Speed was urgent, but he couldn’t afford to let his guard down.

If someone was crouching on a wall and fired a shotgun, he’d die for nothing.

Fortunately, the gunfire had been close by—he walked only five minutes before seeing people again.

Outside one house, several farmers—men and women, at least fifty years old—stood staring.

They were fixed on something inside the house, seemingly transfixed.

Yu Dazhang immediately raised his gun and aimed at them.

“Hands on your heads, squat against the door!”

After shouting, he moved to the opposite side of the gate, quickly adjusted his angle, and kept his gun aimed inside, ready to fire.

To Yu Dazhang’s surprise, they complied without resistance—every one of them obeyed without protest.

They pressed their bodies against the doorframe, squatted with hands clasped high above their heads, and stared at Yu Dazhang.

As if silently asking: Is this the right posture?

This left Yu Dazhang bewildered.

Aren’t they from this village?

Just minutes ago, he had fought a bloody battle with villagers—its memory still vivid.

Almost all of them were ruthless, fearless killers.

How could things change so drastically just by switching households?

Had age drained their ferocity?

As he pondered, he moved toward the center of the gate, gripping his pistol tightly.

If he sensed anything suspicious, Yu Dazhang would shoot without hesitation.

When he was about three meters from the front door, a voice came from inside:

“Who’s there?”

Zhang Sen!

Yu Dazhang immediately recognized his voice.

“It’s me, Yu Dazhang.”

He replied, then rushed to the front door—what he saw stunned him.

Zhang Sen sat on the steps of the main house, one leg drenched in blood.

His face was as pale as paper, his brow tightly furrowed, his body trembling slightly from pain.

Yet he still held firm, pointing his gun at two men across from him.

The two men were six or seven meters away.

Between them lay another man, face-up, his chest soaked in blood—alive or dead, unclear.

Yu Dazhang first ordered the men squatting by the door to enter the courtyard and re-squat against the wall.

He also commanded the two men to raise their hands and squat to one side.

Seeing no immediate threat, Yu Dazhang hurried to Zhang Sen’s side.

He glanced at his wounded thigh—no vital organs struck—and exhaled in relief.

If the major artery had been hit, Zhang Sen wouldn’t have lasted this long; even the best-case scenario would’ve been hypovolemic shock.

He then picked up a crude shotgun from the ground and placed it on the step beside Zhang Sen.

After finishing, he took out his phone, turned off silent mode, and saw over twenty missed calls—two from Captain Wei Qian, the rest from his Master Lu Zhongxin.

He called Lu Zhongxin back—it rang twice before being answered.

“How are you? Are you injured?!”

No scolding, no blame—only rapid breathing, revealing the caller’s deep anxiety.

Hearing this concerned tone, Yu Dazhang felt warmth spread through his chest.

The malevolent energy from the killings began to dissipate slightly.

He replied in a low, hoarse voice:

“I’m unharmed, but three officers here are wounded—one light, two severe, one critically so.”

His throat felt like it was on fire—dry, parched, his breathing heavy.

His body had been in high alert; now the side effects hit.

He was thirsty, weak, utterly drained—as if hollowed out.

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“Ambulances are on their way,” Lu Zhongxin said quickly:

“We’ve reached the foot of the mountain. Hold on a little longer.”

After ending the call, Yu Dazhang checked Zhang Sen’s wound again.

Blood still seeped steadily—though not heavily, continuous loss would tax his body severely.

He had planned to rejoin the two other officers, but now that was impossible.

He stared at the men squatting in the corner—better to stay cautious.

He ordered them to step forward one by one, then paired them up to search each other under his command.

He had them pat down every possible hiding spot—lifting shirts, rolling up pant legs, leaving nothing unchecked.

After the full search, Yu Dazhang relaxed slightly—but kept his gun drawn.

A while later, he received another call from Lu Zhongxin.

“We’ve arrived. Where are you?”

Yu Dazhang gave the exact locations of the two households.

In rural villages, houses were built side by side, forming continuous rows—easy to find.

Ten minutes later, he saw Lu Zhongxin at the courtyard gate.

Behind him followed several officers—all familiar faces.

Seeing the scene, the officers rushed in and cuffed the men squatting by the wall.

With the scene secured, Yu Dazhang felt as if all strength had been drained—he collapsed onto the steps.

It felt like a nightmare… he couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

He dared not even recall the earlier scenes.

Just surviving felt like divine mercy.

Lu Zhongxin came to their side, first examining Zhang Sen’s wound.

After confirming no immediate danger to life, he turned to his disciple.

“The people in that house at the village head…”

Lu Zhongxin’s face was grim, his eyes filled with deep worry—as if fearing something.

After a pause, he continued:

“The rescued officers said… you did all this?”

He fixed his gaze on Yu Dazhang, waiting for his answer.

“You went to that house too?” Yu Dazhang teased lightly, then said with resignation:

“It was urgent—I had no choice…”

He started to explain, but Lu Zhongxin slapped his thigh, cutting him off:

“Good job.”

His voice was quiet, but carried absolute certainty.

Yu Dazhang forced a faint smile:

“Well, not all of it was me—one was shot by a colleague from the branch, and…”

He glanced at his Master, lowering his voice further:

“There’s one more in the cellar.”

(End of Chapter)