Chapter Twenty-Three A Gift of Scorn

If life were given only once, those who truly wish to live well would never treat it so carelessly.

At this point, our previous tactics for confusing the enemy could no longer be used—those without guns had already been eliminated. If we showed ourselves again, unarmed and defenseless, we’d be taken out immediately, bringing the remaining number closer to a hundred, and increasing their chance of survival.

Everyone was on edge now; nobody wanted to be shot before even seeing the enemy.

“Stop, everyone,” I called out suddenly, as an important thought struck me: ghillie suits.

Yes, ghillie suits—if we pressed on as we were, no matter how cautious, we’d be spotted in no time. But if we crafted our own makeshift ghillie suits, our concealment would be vastly improved.

At my call, everyone snapped their bolts open and turned to me.

“Don’t worry,” I explained, “I just thought, if we march straight in like this, we’re bound to be seen. Why not make simple ghillie suits with branches to help us hide?”

At my suggestion, everyone’s eyes lit up. Even if we’d never worn them, we’d at least seen them on TV—everyone knew what a ghillie suit was. It was just that nerves had kept anyone from thinking of it.

“Girls, break off smaller branches and make simple hats. The two of us guys will get larger branches to cover your bodies. Xinru, you’ll be on lookout—you’re the best shot among the girls. We’ll be counting on you for our safety.” I quickly divided up the tasks, and we all set to work.

The hardest part fell on me and Mao Eighteen, but to be fair, despite his quietness, he was remarkably strong. I’d just managed to snap three large branches when he’d already finished off the remaining seven.

“You’re impressive!” I gave him a thumbs-up. My father always taught me to learn humbly from those who were better, to strive to emulate the virtuous.

Mao Eighteen accepted my admiration without hesitation. Still, I wasn’t offended—this was just his nature. From the slight smile in his eyes, I could sense his pleasure, though he wasn’t much for expressing it; his aloofness could easily be mistaken for coldness.

The girls worked quickly too, and in about ten minutes had crafted leafy green branch hats.

“Good thing I don’t have a girlfriend, or I’d be putting a green hat on myself,” I joked.

“Yan Ruyu, you don’t have a girlfriend?” one of the girls in the group asked in surprise.

“Isn’t that normal? My family kept a close eye on me in junior high, afraid I’d start dating too early. Now that I’m in high school, I’m still single,” I replied matter-of-factly.

“I’ve already had several boyfriends. You’re just not keeping up!” The girl’s tone left me momentarily speechless. Since when did having several relationships become something to brag about? Was I behind the times?

I shook my head—it was a personal matter, not my concern. I wasn’t one for prying.

“Everyone, put on your homemade ghillie suits. We need to move,” I urged, steering the conversation back to the matter at hand.

The girl, at first all gossip, sobered instantly at my reminder—this was not the time for such talk.

“Wait, I…I need to use the bathroom,” one of the girls admitted, her face flushed.

Only then did it occur to me—we hadn’t relieved ourselves since morning.

So, the girls guarded one another and took care of things. Soon, there’d be no chance for a break, nor any safe, hidden place to go with more people around.

Hearing the girls, I too felt the urge, so I found a tree and offered it some free nutrients.

Once, people said, “Give someone a rose, and the fragrance lingers on your hand.” Now, I thought, “Give a tree your water, and may it thrive for a hundred years.” Truly, my spirit of selfless sacrifice far surpassed the mere fragrance of a rose. Ah, my irresistible, inescapable charm.

After everyone returned, we checked our suits to ensure they didn’t drag on the ground and could provide good cover when lying low. Satisfied, we pressed on toward the helicopter.

For safety, we communicated with a few simple hand signals: fist for stop, four fingers forward for advance, palm down for get low.

Too many signals would be confusing, so we kept to the basics—if shooting became necessary, we’d improvise.

Along the way, I drilled these signals with my teammates. By the time we neared the helicopter, we were working together almost seamlessly.

“For the last hundred meters, crawl with me. Don’t worry about speed—just follow my movements,” I instructed.

With that, I led the team forward, weaving between the trees. As long as everyone followed my path, even if we were spotted, only one of us might be taken out; the rest could use the trees for cover and fight back.

But perhaps luck was on our side—within the helicopter’s perimeter, we still hadn’t encountered anyone.

“Mao Eighteen, you and Xinru watch our rear. I’ll keep an eye forward, the rest of you take left and right. Our goal is to make the top hundred without risking ourselves. Once you’re in position, stay put. Remember, we are nothing but fallen leaves and dead branches,” I whispered, settling into my spot.

“If the enemy doesn’t spot us, don’t fire. If we’re discovered, open fire immediately—everyone suppress them together.”

No single person can cover all directions alone—this was the glory of a team, and together, we would protect it.

Forty minutes passed before we heard a rustling. Someone was coming. The thought jumped into all our minds.

The sound came from behind, but thanks to my warning, everyone stayed perfectly still.

This group didn’t notice us; they crept just ahead and lay down, watching forward. One, two, three, four, five, six—six people, sprawled right in front of us.

It was careless, leaving their backs exposed to the enemy like that. Still, I didn’t rush to fire, and shook my head slightly, signaling the others to hold back.

Even if we could take out this group, it wasn’t worth revealing our position for such obviously clueless players.

They didn’t even check behind them—they might as well have rubbed my intelligence into the dirt.

To have survived this long with such carelessness, their luck must be extraordinary.

In this scenario, we were the sparrow behind the mantis, which was waiting for the cicada—if we waited for the right moment, we could be the last ones standing.

If I were alone, I might have taken a shot and moved, waging guerrilla warfare. But with teammates, that wasn’t an option. We were too large a target; guerrilla tactics would risk wiping us all out. That was not why I’d brought my team this far.