On any other day, seeing a situation like this, Xiao Ke would've been a ghost. He would've turned and vanished without a second thought.
But today was different. He found himself staring at the woman on horseback, Qin Bing, and a cold dread washed over him. It wasn't just the effortless confidence in her eyes; it was the whole bizarre scene. Here she was, single-handedly escorting dozens of captured deserters, and not a single man dared to even think about making a run for it. The air around her hummed with danger.
This commander, this Qin Bing, hadn't even bothered to draw her weapon. Her pistol was holstered, her saber sheathed. She just sat tall in the saddle of a magnificent warhorse. Yet, a primal instinct in Xiao Ke screamed that she was a hundred times more lethal than the commander he'd seen yesterday with a sniper rifle cradled in his arms. He had a gut feeling, sharp and certain, that if he tried to bolt, he wouldn't make it a hundred meters before her blade found his neck.
So, he didn't run.
But he didn't shuffle over to the line of roped-up deserters, either. Instead, he squared his shoulders and walked directly toward Qin Bing.
That got a reaction. Eyebrows shot up all around, from Qin Bing herself to the pathetic line of prisoners. What the hell is this guy doing?
Qin Bing's eyes flicked down to the standard-issue saber at Xiao Ke's hip, and the barest hint of a smirk touched her lips. If he was stupid enough to try something, she had a hundred ways to take his head off his shoulders before his blade even cleared its sheath.
But Xiao Ke surprised her. He wasn't looking for a fight. He stopped before her horse and spoke, his voice laced with a desperate sincerity. "Ma'am, you've got this wrong. I'm not a deserter. I just found this uniform."
A lazy, knowing smile spread across her face. "Save it for the judge."
Damn it. This woman doesn't listen to reason.
Frustration, anger, and a wave of pure helplessness crashed over him. In their eyes—the commander's, the deserters'—the uniform made him one of them. He was caught in a lie that wasn't his, and the mud was already up to his neck.
Qin Bing nodded her head toward a saddlebag bulging with confiscated weapons. The message was unmistakable: Add yours to the pile, get in line, and tie yourself up.
As he stepped closer, Xiao Ke got a better look at her. She was, he realized, even more beautiful up close. But it was her right hand that held his attention. He could see the thick calluses on her palm, the kind that only came from years of gripping a sword. That was the hand of a killer.
Defeated by her unyielding presence, he unbuckled his saber and reluctantly placed it in the bag. He trudged to the back of the line and bound his own hands, the rough rope chafing his wrists.
The other deserters, who had been watching with anticipation, let out a collective sigh of disappointment, followed by a chorus of jeers and snickers.
"Thought he had some spine," one of them muttered. "Turns out he's just like us."
"Spine? Against the Valkyrie?" another scoffed. "He wouldn't have made it fifty feet."
"Fifty? You're generous. He'd have been a corpse in ten seconds flat."
"Look at his uniform, he's Black Shark Legion. Everyone in the Legion knows the stories about Qin Bing. They say she once took down a Zombie Lord on her own. You think you're tougher than a level-10 Zombie Lord? Go ahead, try your luck."
Listening to their whispers, the grim reality settled in for Xiao Ke. This commander wasn't just tough; she was a legend. A woman who could, and probably would, slaughter them all without breaking a sweat. No wonder no one ran. It wasn't discipline; it was terror.
The grim procession started moving again, a slow, shuffling march to their doom, with the warrior-woman on horseback pacing them like a wolf herding sheep. Xiao Ke learned they were being taken to a Black Shark base over a hundred kilometers away to be sentenced. In these desperate times, desertion was met with brutal punishment. Best case scenario: a life sentence in the mines, working until you dropped dead. Worst case: you were thrown into a "cannon fodder" squad and sent to the front lines to be torn apart by zombies.
Xiao Ke's stomach churned. All this, for borrowing a uniform.
After a few hours, they had covered twenty kilometers. Qin Bing called a halt. "Thirty minutes," she announced. "Eat, drink. Then we move."
They were allowed to untie their hands, but she added a chilling condition. "If one of you runs, the rest of you die. I'll execute every last one of you myself."
Instantly, the dynamic shifted. The deserters were now each other's guards, eyeing one another with suspicion. Anyone who made a break for it would be torn down by his own comrades before Qin Bing even had to draw her sword. Xiao Ke's last flicker of hope died. The woman was as smart as she was deadly.
The men sat on the grass, chewing on stale crackers or sipping from canteens. Xiao Ke had nothing. He wasn't going to be marched to a mining camp or a suicide squad. He had to do something.
His eyes found Qin Bing. She had dismounted and laid out a small cloth, setting down a water pouch and a few slices of dry bread. She picked one up, frowned, and muttered to herself, "God, if only I had some butter. Something to make this edible."
Xiao Ke heard her. An idea, crazy and desperate, sparked in his mind. He shot to his feet. Ignoring the startled looks from the other men, he walked toward her a second time.
"Ma'am!"
She looked up, annoyed. "What now?"
"That bread looks a little dry," he said, trying to sound helpful. "I think I can help."
"Help me eat it?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"No, ma'am. I saw bees by the stream over there. They only gather water within five hundred meters of their hive, which means there has to be one close by. If you'll let me, I can get you some fresh honey for your bread."
She studied him, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. "That's a nice offer. But what's in it for you?"
"Well, ma'am, like I said, I'm not really a deserter. And you've got so many... you probably wouldn't even miss one..."
"I see," she cut him off. "You want me to look the other way while you disappear."
He scratched his head. "Something like that, yeah."
A dangerous smile played on her lips. "Alright. You're so confident, it shouldn't take you long. How do you plan on getting the honey?"
Why does she care? He wondered, but he answered honestly. "I'll build a small fire, use the smoke to calm them, and then I can get the honeycomb."
"Fire?" she said, her voice turning sharp. "That's cruel. No fire. Use your hands."
Xiao Ke stared at her, dumbfounded. "But... they'll sting me to death!"
The look she gave him was pure, cold satisfaction. He got it then. This was payback for his attempt at a bribe. She was going to make him suffer for it. Seeing the challenge in her eyes, he felt his shoulders slump in defeat. "You're right, ma'am. Fire is cruel. I'll just... use my hands."
"Good. Get going."
She watched him trudge off, a smug smirk on her face. 'Beautiful officer,' and a bribe? Doesn't he know I can't stand smooth-talking opportunists? Let's see how clever he is after this.
A few minutes later, a yelp of pain echoed from the woods, followed by the sight of Xiao Ke crashing through the brush, a huge chunk of dripping honeycomb in one hand and a furious swarm of bees hot on his heels.
The deserters, who had watched the whole exchange, exploded with laughter. "Hah! The idiot tried to kiss up to the Valkyrie and got stung for it!"
He stumbled back to her, his right hand already swelling to twice its normal size and new stings dotting his face and neck. He slapped the honeycomb down on her dinner cloth, the rich amber liquid pooling around it.
"Here's your honey, ma'am," he grumbled, trying to keep the anger out of his voice.
Qin Bing looked from his swollen face to the honeycomb, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. She'd expected him to come back empty-handed with some lame excuse. She hadn't expected him to actually be foolish enough to do it. She couldn't decide if he was the dumbest man she'd ever met or the most stubborn.
"If that's all, I'll be going," he mumbled, already backing away. He was done with this woman. He'd take his chances with the mines.
"Wait," she said, stopping him. He froze. "I saw you didn't have any food. You earned this." She gestured to the meal. "Take some bread and honey for yourself."
On the cloth were six slices of bread—including the two she'd already taken a bite from—the water, and the fresh honey.
Without a word, Xiao Ke leaned down. He ignored the four untouched slices and deliberately picked up the two pieces she had bitten. Under her stunned gaze, he smeared a thick layer of honey on one, took a huge, defiant bite, and walked away, chewing loudly.
It took her a second to process what he'd just done.
He ate my bread. My half-eaten bread.
He took the pieces I was eating!
A deep, unfamiliar blush crept up her neck, and her eyes flashed with fury. Her hand instinctively went to the hilt of her saber, her knuckles white. But as she watched his retreating, she didn't draw.
She was the one who offered, after all. She hadn't said which pieces he could take. She was technically in the wrong.
But as she sat there, fuming, she made a silent vow. You clever little bastard. You just watch yourself. The next time you give me an excuse, you are dead.