Chapter 293: Good Fortune and Misfortune Are Interwoven (Mother

"Hmph… where the hell did this bunch run off to?"

Zhang Su rubbed his chin in frustration, just as he was straining his ears to listen for sounds…

Puff-puff, huff.

A sound came from deep inside the warehouse!

Zhang Su squinted—he saw a wooden door being pried up from the ground, the tarp covering it shoved aside, revealing the entrance to the basement.

Immediately, a group of people emerged, filthy and covered in dust…

Of course, this was only Zhang Su's view.

To everyone else, the warehouse had simply made a noise—pitch black, nothing visible!

"What noise?"

"Yeah, I remember there was a guy called Fire Uncle—haven't seen him at all. Is he hiding in the warehouse?"

The people of Daqiao Fortress also grew alert, tense expressions on their faces as they scrambled behind their vehicles, gripping their guns, every rustle setting their nerves on edge.

After about two or three minutes, a middle-aged man's figure appeared in the sunlight; the glare was so intense he instinctively raised a hand to shield his eyes.

"Alert!"

As the first man emerged, more followed—huffing and puffing out one after another.

Their cotton coats were filthy, stained with large dark patches—no need to guess, they were dried blood, yet their posture suggested none of them were injured.

Meng Changwei sidled up to Zhang Su, his single eye wide with astonishment. "Zhang Boss, another acquaintance?"

"Old Village Chief, long time no see?"

Instantly, the Tianmayu group tensed, scrambling for cover and raising their weapons.

This triggered a chain reaction—men, women, and children near Ma Changshou collapsed to the ground; the calmer ones just bowed their heads in silence, while the emotionally shattered wept alongside Ma Changshou.

Everyone suddenly heard Zhang Su curse, then saw him step out from behind the vehicle.

Zhang Su could see clearly, but he didn't reveal the truth—he stayed alert with the others outside the door, as the survivors emerging from the basement slowly approached the warehouse entrance.

"Are you from Kuang Zhuang?"

"Zhang… Zhang Boss?"

Zhang Su stared at the thirty-odd people before him—their leader was none other than Ma Changshou from Xida Ying Village!

Ma Changshou, once the local bully of Xida Ying Village, now looked like a shriveled, filthy, broken old man, staggering as he walked.

When Ma Changshou recognized Zhang Su's face, he collapsed onto the ground with a thud, stunned for a moment, then burst into tears—his grimy face streaked with smudged dirt, looking utterly desolate.

If there really were remnants of Kuang Zhuang, who knew what kind of deadly weapon might still be hidden inside? One blast and they'd all be dead.

These people were utterly drained, ignoring the corpses lying by the warehouse door, like numb straw men.

"Holy shit!"

Zhang Su pinched the bridge of his nose and gave a wry smile. "It's a long story. Meng Boss, if you're in a hurry, go ahead and grab the grain—take any weapons you find, but don't touch those two tanks!"

Meng Changwei raised an eyebrow—suddenly, he wasn't in a rush to leave. He grinned. "No need to hurry. I'll watch a bit. If Zhang Boss needs help, I'm happy to lend a hand."

Zhang Su stared at Meng Changwei in disbelief—just say you want to watch the show, don't pretend it's noble.

He gave Lu Yubo and the others a glance to keep an eye on the Daqiao Fortress group, then walked over to Ma Changshou, helped him up, and looked at the tear-streaked old man with weary resignation.

"Old Village Chief, what happened? Are these all from Xida Ying Village?"

"Wah… sigh." Ma Changshou drew out a long sigh, stopping his tears. "Forty-six of us came from Xida Ying Village, Zhang Boss. Now only twenty-five are left. Half of us are dead. Half!"

Overcome with grief, he pounded his chest and stamped his feet—luckily, his body was still strong; if he'd been ten or twenty years older, or had any heart condition, this outburst would've killed him on the spot.

Zhang Su scanned the scene—twenty-seven people remained. "Where are the other two? Are they from the Qinglong Army?"

"These two young women are from logistics. Don't worry, Zhang Boss—we're not bad people."

Ma Changshou wiped his tears, walked into the crowd, and patted the shoulders of two women in their thirties or forties.

"Old Village Chief, why did so many from your village survive while everyone else died?"

Zhang Su had many questions and had no patience for small talk—he asked directly.

"Zhang Boss, got any water? I…"

"Here."

Zheng Xinyu handed Ma Changshou a thermos, then added, "It's yours. Keep it."

"Oh, oh, thank you, thank you, merciful goddess!"

Ma Changshou's tongue was suddenly sweet—he twisted open the thermos, felt the warm steam on his face, gulped down two mouthfuls, then passed it to the person behind him.

"Zhang Boss, I hate it…"

Ma Changshou slapped his thigh and began recounting what happened after Xida Ying Village joined the Qinglong Army.

As they say, ideals are full-bodied, but reality? Bone-thin.

Before coming, they'd planned to use their supplies to bribe their way into logistics—do low-risk work, endure some abuse, just to survive safely long-term.

But things weren't that simple. On their first day in camp, all their supplies were confiscated. The guy they'd bribed? Just a low-ranking soldier—couldn't even speak up, let alone help them.

"Damn it, the Qinglong Army's leaders are all beasts!"

Ma Changshou's face twisted with fury. "They took everything we had, locked all of us—over forty people—in one barracks. Zhang Boss, can you imagine how cramped it was?"

"Then why are only you left? What happened to the fighters?"

Zhang Su noticed everyone emerging with Ma Changshou were women, elderly, or disabled—no able-bodied men at all.

"They were all taken away. That night, they called them out—every single fighter was dragged off. I sensed something was wrong. The guards grew lax, all moved to the walls—I guessed a horde was coming, so I led everyone down into the warehouse basement. We only made it because these two women showed us the way. We barely escaped!"

Ma Changshou's lips trembled—he'd never dreamed of grand ambitions, just wanted his villagers to survive, even if it meant crawling. But he'd failed.

According to him, the two women were logistics staff assigned to deliver meals. When the Qinglong Army took the able-bodied men, they were just cleaning up dinner dishes—completely unaware of what was happening.

In fact, the two women had guided Ma Changshou—and in doing so, saved their own lives.

Many admired Ma Changshou—he'd sensed the danger immediately and saved over twenty people. He was a capable leader. The dead? Their fault for poor decisions—once you joined the Qinglong Army, you lost all control.

(End of Chapter)