Chapter 161: Xidaying Village

"This gun we have has two firing modes: semi-automatic and fully automatic, but we'd better not use fully automatic—it has massive recoil. Its effective range reaches four hundred meters, but shooting that far is just wasting bullets. Let me first go over the most basic safety points..."

After eating, everyone except the sentries gathered inside the convenience store. Zhang Su and Zhao Dezhao, the only two with some familiarity with firearms, explained the general use of the Type 95 assault rifle, focusing primarily on firearm safety.

None of them had ever encountered this knowledge before, but firearms would accompany them for a long time to come—it was vital. Everyone listened with intense focus.

"I'll now demonstrate high and low ready positions. Watch closely, practice often. Whether high or low, the goal is to enter combat faster—push, grip, pull, while simultaneously disengaging the safety, then fire..."

"Ah!"

Suddenly, Wu Lue let out a startled cry, making everyone jump.

"Luezi, what the hell are you yelling for?"

Zhang Su was teaching based on his limited experience from playing CS when he was rudely interrupted—he was furious.

"Boss Zhang, I just remembered something!"

Wu Lue pointed excitedly at the RV: "I remember downloading a series of videos about rifle use!"

"Bozi, what's going on between you and Pei Lan?"

Zhang Su quickly scrubbed through the video timeline—it was all instructional, no flashy nonsense. In today's world, it was a treasure!

"Just now we were covering ready positions. Come on, let's practice along with the video. After we finish, we'll go back and review the theory!"

"Huh?" Zhang Su lowered his rifle, puzzled. "You've got a thing for this? Not like you at all!"

As he spoke, he pulled out a cigarette and handed it to Lu Yubo.

The lone four-horned beast rolled its eyes at the group, occasionally flicking its tail, utterly bored.

Zhang Su had long since given up trying to get angry at his former employee.

"What's nothing?" Zhang Su let out a loud, satisfied sigh. "Back when we were practicing shooting, you two were ten thousand miles apart—what's nothing? Spill it. What happened?"

Wu Lue dashed to the vehicle, fetched the laptop, and frantically typed away. Soon he dug the video titled "Teaching Real Men to Shoot" out from a corner of the hard drive.

"Damn, you're good—then get on with it!"

After adjusting the video's playback position, a small lamp lit up as over ten people practiced rifle handling in front of the screen inside the drafty, crumbling room—click-click-click, click-click-click—the scene was bizarre.

He opened it—sure enough, it was a foreign firearms training video covering everything from carrying, adjusting, shouldering, stance, to firing, even basic troubleshooting. The entire video ran over an hour, meticulously detailed, packed with pure practical knowledge, not a single wasted word!

"Damn, this is seriously good stuff! Luezi, you've earned your keep—this video is the textbook of textbooks. Awesome!"

In the corner, Zhang Su, who was urinating beside Lu Yubo, asked softly. He'd heard rumors these past few days—he hadn't planned to interfere, but the situation was starting to fester.

Zhang Su knew about this, because he'd overheard Pei Lan speaking ambiguously to Chen Hanzhou. He'd assumed Lu Yubo wouldn't care about a woman, but tonight, Lu Yubo's gaze toward Pei Lan had been off—filled with resentment. That was a problem.

"Heh, it was an accident. The video's title was 'Teaching Real Men to Shoot.' I thought, I'm a real man, so I downloaded it—and then..."

Real firearms held a mysterious allure for everyone—perhaps because they offered an unprecedented sense of security. Regardless of gender, enthusiasm for learning was high—even Mo Qianlan was training!

Lu Yubo was startled. "Nothing, Boss Zhang. Why are you asking about this?"

"How did you know?"

Time flew. At 9: 0 p. ., training ended and rest was prepared. Considering everyone's low familiarity with firearms, Zhang Su collected all weapons back into the transport crates. In case of emergency, the sentries would alert them in advance—there'd be no delay retrieving them.

"She told me herself..."

The result, needless to say, was that rifle training video.

Lighting a cigarette, Lu Yubo exhaled a thick plume of smoke, bitterly muttering: "Pei Lan likes Xiao Chen. Fuck."

Lu Yubo took a deep drag; the red tip of the cigarette hissed.

Zhang Su gave a strange expression, patted Lu Yubo's shoulder. "You don't really like Pei Lan—you just happened to run into her at the right time. Think hard: aren't you just after her body?"

"You... Boss Zhang, you've got a point..."

Lu Yubo stammered and squirmed for a long while, realizing he couldn't refute it.

"Once we settle down, more survivors will come knocking. What's the rush? I'll find you a star then."

Zhang Su didn't want internal discord to poison the team.

"Star?" At the word "star," Lu Yubo perked up instantly, eyes gleaming. "Boss Zhang, you said it—I like someone like Dilireba!"

A row of black lines appeared on Zhang Su's forehead. The kid's brain was simple—but that was fine...

"Exotic charm, huh? No problem. In this region, we might even run into Ah Mao or Ah Bang. Let me tell you, when women start piling up, it gets annoying—you won't be able to handle it!"

He spread out a pancake, sprinkled sesame seeds on it—the scent made Lu Yubo dream of buying cola with beautiful women.

The quiet North Second Ring Road—after a whole night, not a single person or vehicle had passed. Only distant, intermittent flashes of light flickered somewhere down unknown roads, like lanterns held by lost travelers, struggling to illuminate the path ahead.

The next morning, mist curled through the hills and fields; the sun cast a hazy glow on every face.

All equipment at the gas station was destroyed—even with a generator, it couldn't be restarted. But this didn't stop them. They siphoned fuel directly from the tanks, wasting plenty, but it didn't matter.

All three vehicles were filled to the brim with fuel, plus several extra barrels. The cars were fed, the people were fed, and the three vehicles hit the road again.

Besides the drivers and the Corgi, everyone held an assault rifle in their arms. But upon closer look, none had magazines inserted—they were training only the motions.

Many zombies wandered the countryside beside the road, but since the vehicles kept their distance and didn't floor the accelerator, the zombies barely reacted.

Soon, the vehicle turned from the east-west North Second Ring Road onto the north-south Beishan Road.

Far ahead, Zhang Su saw the bridge spanning the Haihe River. It wasn't large—just over a hundred meters long—but the real issue was the dense barricades on the bridge!

This discovery made him furrow his brow. He picked up the radio: "Prepare to stop. Prepare to stop!"

"What is this..."

Zheng Xinyu, in the passenger seat, stared blankly ahead, rifle in hand.

"Oh my god, this... this is incredible..."

Rows of roadblocks blocked the center of the bridge, each impaled with zombie corpses. A rough count suggested at least a hundred or more—deeply chilling.

"What kind of dark ritual is this?" Zhao Dezhao asked.

"Maybe zombie corpses block other zombies from advancing?"

Zhang Su's fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel. Suddenly, his eyebrows lifted—two figures appeared from nowhere on the other side of the bridge, wielding pitchforks and shovels.

At the same time, he heard distant clanging from a village—the sound of pots being struck, likely alerting households to danger.

Moments later, shadows surged through the village across the river—suddenly alive with activity.

"The toll collectors have arrived."

The people in the vehicle weren't surprised—they'd encountered similar situations before at Phoenix International.

Right now, everyone felt relaxed. What did they have in their arms? Assault rifles!

"What should we do?"

Zheng Xinyu asked.

"Talk first."

Saying this, Zhang Su picked up his rifle and stepped out of the vehicle.

One by one, about twenty people disembarked.

"Boss Zhang, these villagers have some skills!"

Lu Yubo walked up beside Zhang Su and whispered.

Zhang Su nodded. Anyone who survived must have some skills—nothing unusual.

He turned to look at the others—all had adopted ready positions with their rifles, as if facing hundreds of zombies.

"Hey, calm down! We're just passing through, not here to rob you. What's with all this tension..."

They could force their way through, but Zhang Su had no intention of doing so. A village that could set up barricades already had the seed of a safe base. With farmland around, it might develop further—industrial capacity might be lacking, but agriculture? No problem. If no conflict arose, they could become allies for food exchange.

Hearing Zhang Su's words, everyone was struck with sudden clarity. Almost all of them had misunderstood something.

They assumed meeting people meant suspicion, meant possible conflict—but perhaps no one here truly wanted to fight.

One by one, they slung their rifles back onto their shoulders.

But the earlier display had already been seen by the two men on the other side.

Zhang Su led the group to the center of the bridge and waved. "Uncles, we're coming from the city, heading north. Could you let us pass?"

"You're too many. I can't decide. Wait for our village chief to come!"

The middle-aged man with the pitchfork shouted back, eyes brimming with suspicion.

They didn't wait long. A man in his fifties, accompanied by over a dozen villagers armed with farming tools, arrived on the bridge.

"I'm Ma Changshou, village chief of Xidaying. You're heading north?"

Ma Changshou, wearing a Lenin hat, leaned on a sharpened hoe, watching Zhang Su's group with caution. He'd already been told by villagers that the newcomers likely had firearms.

"Correct. We're heading north, no intention of disturbing you."

Zhang Su politely opened a pack of cigarettes and held it up, then tossed it across.

One of Ma Changshou's men picked up the pack and showed it to him. He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and said: "Kid, we killed every zombie in this area one by one. We lost many villagers doing it. If you want to pass, hand over some supplies—we'll move the barricades immediately."

Zhang Su had expected this. He didn't hesitate. "Chief Ma, name your price."

He could tell these people had done this before—familiar, practiced, and well-informed about the outside world. They'd prepared for a long struggle.

Ma Changshou's face, etched with deep wrinkles, was weary. He scanned the three vehicles behind Zhang Su, then pointed at the Fokner Mobil. "I don't want your vehicle—it's your transport. Give us everything inside that truck, and you can pass."

(End of Chapter)