Rebirth in 1972: Redemption in Changbai Mountain

Gu Dayong's boots rolled over half a frozen birch bark on the snow, and he pointed to the black pine forest shrouded in mist deep in the mountain valley.

"That opening was made by hunters to avoid blizzards back then; it's so narrow that only one person can pass sideways."

The squad leader nodded, and then, as if to encourage everyone, said, "The platoon leader just said that during the interrogation, those people said that the crime boss, who was called Brother Hao, was just a weak scholar."

"At his pace, he can't walk very fast. We'll definitely catch up with him before noon."

By then, the sun had already peeked out from behind the clouds, and the two clear sets of footprints were so visible that even without the hounds, anyone could see them.

The twelve men walked very fast, with no one lagging behind. Even the young man carrying a mortar on his back didn't fall behind by even a single step.

This cannon might not be needed, but in some complex terrains, shelling is more convenient than risking human lives.

Compared to the ease on this side, Hao Ge and Da Jun's side is having a tough time.

Hao Ge's cotton-padded trousers and shoes were covered in snow, which had long since frozen into hard ice shells after the long journey.

With each step he took into the snow, the extra weight required him to expend a lot of energy.

When he was a sent-down youth in the countryside, he found even carrying half a basket of grain too heavy; he had never suffered like this before.

The entire journey was only saved from collapsing in the snow thanks to the army's half-carrying and half-dragging support.

"Brother Hao, hang in there a little longer. Eagle Beak Cliff is just ahead. Once we cross it, we'll be in the territory of the neighboring county. We have acquaintances there who can help us."

Dajun's voice trembled. Although the gunshot wound to his ear from Zhou Rui had stopped bleeding, the excruciating pain had not disappeared.

He was panting heavily, not from exhaustion, but from the overwhelming fear of being caught closer and closer.

Hao Ge let out a long breath, leaned against a pine tree and looked back. In the morning light at the valley entrance, he could vaguely see figures moving.

He gritted his teeth, pulled out the last half of the frozen cornbread from his pocket, gave half to Dajun, and ate the rest himself, his knuckles turning white from gripping it so tightly.

"We can't go this way, they'll follow the tracks. We need to sweep the footprints away with branches."

They had used this trick before, and last night they did the same thing to the people stealing grain from Jiaolongxia Village, showing that they had a trick that worked for them everywhere.

"It's no use. They have hunting dogs. At this close range, even if we clear the footprints, we won't be able to get rid of our scent."

Dajun shook his head and explained, reminding Hao Ge that this was wishful thinking.

"All we can do now is keep running and hope that the Bodhisattva will bless us so that we can get through this crisis."

Hao Ge abruptly stopped eating his cornbread. The frozen cornmeal stuck in his throat, causing him to bend over and cough violently. He scraped a large chunk of pine bark off with his knuckles.

He used to be arrogant and clever; even if he ran away from the village, he could still gather a group of outlaws together with just his words.

Over the course of several years, they committed dozens of crimes, and each time they managed to escape unscathed.

Who would have thought that this time, just for a batch of autumn grain from the production brigade, he would be defeated by a group of peasants he looked down upon.

"Bodhisattva? Which Bodhisattva would bless people like us?" He straightened up, stuffed the last bit of cornbread crumbs into his mouth, and then grabbed a handful of snow water and swallowed it.

"We can't rely on so-called gods. Dajun, go ahead and run two hundred meters, then walk back backwards."

Hao pointed to a fork in the road ahead, then found a tree branch and began cleaning up the surrounding traces.

"You want to pull off another escape? But you failed last night?" Dajun hesitated, no longer trusting Hao Ge as before.

"You don't believe me? Then what other methods do you have?" Hao grabbed Dajun's shoulders suddenly, his eyes red as if they were about to bleed.

These people weren't so long-winded before; whatever they said was law.

Now that his men have run into trouble, even his most trusted henchmen no longer believe him, which has driven Brother Hao to the brink of madness.

"Okay, I'll go."

Old habits still led Dajun to comply, and he took off walking forward without looking back.

To leave clear footprints, they deliberately stepped deeper into the ground with each step.

The footprints stretched straight along the fork in the road towards Eagle's Beak Cliff, without even a slight turn.

He had just finished running 200 meters when he turned around as Hao Ge instructed, and walked backwards in the same footprints he had just left. The pattern on the soles of his shoes matched the previous marks perfectly, making it look as if only one person had gone towards the cliff entrance, and there was no clue as to why he had turned back.

Hao Ge squatted in place, his hand still holding the branch, sweeping the spot where the two of them had just stood flat and neat, even burying the half-eaten cornbread crumb that had fallen on the snow.

When Dajun retreated to his side, he raised his hand and ripped off his cotton-padded coat, which startled Dajun.

Before they could react, Hao Ge pulled out half a bottle of kerosene from his pocket, unscrewed the cap, and poured it onto his and Da Jun's sleeves, trouser legs, and shoes.

Then Dajun was made to go through it again. The pungent smell of kerosene instantly overpowered the sweat on people's bodies, and the biting cold seeped into their skin.

"This can't be hidden for long."

"We can't worry about that now, we'll keep it a secret for as long as we can."

After Hao finished speaking, he dragged the person into the icy ditch on the side.

It was a thin layer of ice formed by the freezing of spring water from the mountains. It was so slippery that no footprints could be left, and only two shallow ice marks could be seen, winding along the gully into the dense forest behind the mountain.

"The cicadas shed their shells last night because there was too much food; the tracks left by the sleds before and after were different." Hao Ge's voice was very low, and his boots made a slight crunching sound on the ice.

"This time, when they saw the footprints heading towards Eagle's Beak Cliff, the whole team will definitely chase after them. By the time they realize something is wrong and turn back, we will have already circled around along the icy gully to the rendezvous point in the neighboring county."

Dajun gritted his teeth and followed him across the ice. The gunshot wound on his ear was so numb from the wind that he could no longer feel any pain.

The two walked on the ice for a full half mile before daring to venture into the bushes beside them.

The legs of my cotton trousers were covered in thorny branches, leaving several small cuts. Snowflakes got inside, making my skin numb from the cold.

Gu Dayong led his team along the footprints to the fork in the road, and Tianfeng was about to rush towards Eagle Beak Cliff.

Gu Dayong suddenly grabbed the dog leash.

He crouched down and ran his fingertips along the edges of the footprints in the snow.

As the army walked backwards, the snow kicked up by their heels created a very shallow ridge in the front half of their footprints, almost invisible unless you looked closely.

"That's not right." Gu Dayong looked up and glanced in the direction of Binggou: "These footprints were deliberately made to lure us to the edge of the cliff. They didn't go that way at all."

The young soldier carrying the mortar was stunned: "No way, the footprints are so clear, they couldn't have just vanished into thin air, could they?"

Zhou Rui took two steps forward.

His nose was different from others; although his sense of smell was not as good as a hunting dog's, it was far superior to that of ordinary people.

Although the pungent smell of kerosene was dispersed by the wind, a trace of it remained.

He crouched down, found a trace of liquid dripping on the snow, and carefully scooped it up and brought it to Big Yellow's face.

Now that there is a more distinct scent, the hunting dogs can easily memorize it again.