Flip the table and divide the family property! Take his wife and daughter into the mountains and eat

After the Azure Dragon entered the ditch, its speed noticeably increased.

The white cloth that had just been wrapped around its legs was quickly soaked through by the mud and water, and dark blood seeped from the cracked wounds. But it seemed oblivious to the pain, its nose pressed tightly against the frozen mud as it burrowed deeper into the ditch.

Old Sun followed behind, carrying a lantern. The further he went in, the heavier his steps became.

This ravine was no ordinary path trodden by hunters. The bushes on both sides grew as densely as barbed wire, and the ground beneath was covered with slippery blue stones; a slight misstep could break your ankle. Further ahead lay the desolate, dead-end cliff.

Veins bulged on the back of Old Sun's hand as he gripped the gun barrel.

Zhao Shanhe was by no means a reckless fool who couldn't figure out the dangers of the mountain path. If you really wanted to avoid a tiger, why would you deliberately walk into a dead end?

Old Sun suddenly stopped in his tracks.

The Azure Dragon in front also suddenly stopped, standing beside a crooked black pine tree, a low growl escaping its throat as if facing a formidable enemy.

Li Baotian quickly came over and asked in a low voice, "What's wrong?"

Old Sun didn't answer, but simply flipped his wrist and pressed the lantern down half a foot.

The dim yellow light swept across the muddy ground.

Li Baotian's breathing instantly became erratic.

In the mud pit, several gleaming bronze shells were scattered about. Two were deeply embedded in the frozen soil, with only the embers showing, while a few others had rolled to the edge of a crevice in the rocks, partially covered by the remaining snow.

Li Baotian subconsciously reached out to pry open the copper shell on the ground.

Old Sun's sharp gaze swept over them, and he hissed, "Don't touch it."

Li Baotian's fingers suddenly froze in mid-air.

Old Sun bent down, squinted his cloudy eyes and stared intently for a moment before stretching out two fingers, as thin as withered tree bark, to pick up a bullet casing and bring it close to the lamp wick, turning it around.

The shell casings were already cold, and the edges were covered in blood and mud.

Old Sun's voice was deep: "Type 56."

Li Baotian's throat tightened, and his peripheral vision involuntarily glanced at the same semi-automatic rifle he was holding. This was the very gun Zhao Shanhe had taken into the mountains.

Old Sun ignored him and took two more steps forward, carrying the lantern.

The lights suddenly illuminated the horribly mangled bushes to the side. Several pine trunks, as thick as a calf, had been gnawed open by bullets, leaving white, shards of wood scattered everywhere. The mud beneath their feet looked as if it had been brutally plowed by an iron plow, leaving several dark craters.

Li Baotian felt a bitter taste in his mouth, and his voice trembled so much he could barely speak: "Uncle Sun... Brother Shanhe fired here?"

Old Sun tossed the spent cartridge back into its place and slowly straightened his back: "Fired."

Looking at the chaos, Li Baotian felt a chill run down his spine: "Did they hit them?"

Old Sun shook his head and pointed to the scattered bullet holes: "These shots weren't aimed at killing anyone. Look at these bullet holes, the high ones hit tree branches, the low ones plowed up the ground. No matter how steady Zhao Shanhe's aim is, he can't possibly aim accurately at a critical moment like this."

A cold sweat broke out on Li Baotian's back: "Then what's wrong with him...?"

Old Sun's voice was deep and icy: "Fire quickly. There's no time to wait, not even a moment to catch your breath. You can only rely on instinct to fire a burst, using the gunfire and the noise to force the thing rushing at you to stop half a step."

Li Baotian's five fingers dug so hard into the wooden gunstock that his knuckles turned bluish-white.

Who was forced to stop?

There was no need to ask those two words. It was that bloodthirsty mountain king, weighing four or five hundred pounds.

He could almost picture that suffocating scene in his mind.

A man and a dog were caught in the back by a massive creature that had silently crept up on them. With nowhere to retreat in the dark ditch, they could only hastily turn and fire, hoping for a meager chance of survival.

Li Baotian's voice trembled: "Since they forced him to stop by firing shots, why did Brother Shanhe still crawl into the cliff? Isn't that just sending him to his death?"

Old Sun still didn't respond.

He strode over to the swirling mud and held the lantern close to the ground.

Those were the footprints left by Zhao Shanhe. At first, the footprints were messy and disorderly, some deep and some shallow, revealing the panic and desperateness of being chased by a wild beast.

But after taking another seven or eight steps forward, the force of the footprints suddenly changed.

Each step was firm and solid, the mud and water around the edges of the footprints swirling outwards, pointing directly to the narrower, more dead-end path deep within the ditch.

Old Sun forced out a sentence through gritted teeth: "You, Zhao Shanhe."

Li Baotian swallowed hard: "What's wrong, Uncle Sun?"

Old Sun lifted his pipe and pointed at the string of shoe prints in the distance: "He wasn't scared out of his wits. A person who's truly terrified can't walk with such steady steps. Look at these steps, heavy with force, and he knows exactly where he's going, without a single moment of hesitation."

Old Sun suddenly turned around, the lantern in his hand swaying violently in the wind: "He's deliberately stepping on things to show that tiger. It looks like he's panicking and running blindly, but he's actually leading the way."

Li Baotian felt as if he had been struck by lightning, his face turning deathly pale: "Has Brother Shanhe gone mad? Leading Shan Wang to the abyss?"

Old Sun took a deep breath of the icy wind.

"The cliff face is sheer, with sheer cliffs on both sides and a narrow crevice between them. If a person retreats inside, a tiger will never be able to get around to attack from behind. But if you have a gun in your hand, that dead end becomes a natural gun barrel."

Zhao Shanhe steeled his resolve and willingly stepped into the living coffin, hoping to gain a chance to exchange blows with the Mountain King and face him head-on.

Li Baotian's teeth chattered: "This is gambling with your life!"

Old Sun's face twitched violently twice, and he cursed in a low voice, "This little bastard really doesn't value his own life."

The voice just fell.

The crouching azure dragon suddenly straightened up and let out a chilling low howl.

The wind blew out from the depths of the ditch, suddenly bringing with it a strong, fishy smell.

The stiff hairs on the dragon's neck stood up like steel needles, limping forward and pressing down.

Old Sun shoved the lantern he was holding into Li Baotian's arms and then flicked the hammer off the old man's rifle.

His cloudy eyes were fixed on the pitch-black darkness ahead, and his voice was barely audible: "Hold your gun steady. Ahead lies the precipice of death."