CHAPTER 237: CHAPTER 237: REALLY THINKING HIGHLY OF ONESELF

"With you gone, I still have others I can support. Your Second Uncle and Master Feng Jingnian are all eagerly waiting for my favor! I’m sorry, Master Shiyan. Fire!"

As his voice faded, gunshots immediately erupted.

Mo Shiyan’s bodyguards used their own bodies to shield him from the bullets, protecting him as they retreated into the tomb chamber.

The stench of searing flesh and blood made Mo Shiyan’s face turn pale.

He had acted in many plays. He had smelled gunpowder before. But he never knew that the scent of gunpowder mixed with flesh and blood could be so unbearable. His throat felt as if it were blocked by a stone, hard and painful.

His voice hoarse, he pleaded, "Miss An Yan, I beg you, please, do all you can to save their lives."

An Yan took out some medicine, giving each injured bodyguard a pill to sustain them for the time being.

Above, the steward’s men guarded the entrance. They were discussing how to come down and capture them all at once.

Mo Shiyan subconsciously looked at An Yan.

On the variety show, he had witnessed An Yan’s abilities, and now, for some inexplicable reason, he considered her his pillar of support. When it came down to it, even if he had acted in many plays, he was still just an actor. With no script and no omniscient perspective, he didn’t know what to do next to prevent his people from getting hurt.

"We can’t let them come down!" Luolie stated. "Miss, we must break out!"

Break out? The enemy was above; they were below. And with such a small opening, not only could several guns fire at once, but even a single person with one gun could easily defend it.

"We don’t have many supplies, and there’s no ventilation in here," Luolie continued. "If we don’t act quickly, and they use poison gas, we’ll truly have no chance!"

Luolie, who had experienced war, was all too aware of the lengths to which an enemy would go on the battlefield. At that moment, he was just relieved that the steward seemed to be an ordinary man.

Just as he felt this sense of relief, the steward’s voice rang out from above, "Throw down a few tear gas grenades! I want to see how long they can endure!"

Luolie was speechless. "..."

"We can’t hesitate any longer, Miss." Luolie straightened his clothes and turned to his team. "I’ll go up first to draw their fire. You all follow, seize control, and then..."

"No!" An Yan interrupted him; she couldn’t let Luolie trade his life for theirs.

"Use them!" An Yan’s gaze shifted to the Living Dead.

"Miss!" Luolie called out in disagreement.

"I know they are our people, and I know that even in death, we should show them respect. But right now, aside from using them, I don’t want any of you to sacrifice your lives!"

Wen Ge, Wen Ya, and the others all bowed their heads. Those were their comrades, people who had once studied and trained with them at Yanwu Hall.

"I believe that if they could think, they wouldn’t want you to go up and throw your lives away!"

"Luolie." An Yan looked into his eyes and said, "Sima Qian wrote in his ’Letter to Ren An’ that everyone faces death; it will either be as weighty as Mount Tai or as light as a feather. Think about it: would your comrades want their deaths to be as weighty as Mount Tai, or as light as a feather?"

Luolie turned his face away.

A few seconds later, he approached one of the Living Dead, knelt on one knee, and touched his face. "He Peng, your brother is taking you into one last battle, alright?"

He Peng couldn’t understand his words, only making unconscious biting motions.

The sisters Wen Ya and Wen Ge bit their lips hard.

Luolie straightened He Peng’s clothes and said, "First, we’ll send He Peng up to draw their fire. I’ll use that chance to create an opening. You all follow quickly behind me to prevent them from destroying the entrance."

Luolie and several bodyguards quickly fashioned a catapult device using materials from the tomb chamber.

Luolie hugged He Peng. "Brother, I’m counting on you!"

Then, Miss An Yan stepped forward and restored He Peng’s ability to move. The instant He Peng regained mobility, Luolie activated the catapult.

The men above, seeing someone launched upwards, immediately opened fire with all their might, multiple guns riddling He Peng with bullets.

Against such firepower, even a Living Dead couldn’t last more than a few minutes.

But those few minutes bought Luolie and the others precious time.

Everyone seized the opportunity, using the catapult to launch themselves up one after another.

As soon as they were up, they immediately fought for weapons. With guns in hand and their superb skills, they quickly gained control over the opposition.

Luolie led his men against the steward’s forces. Meanwhile, the others hastily built a simple barricade with earth, ensuring those emerging from the hole wouldn’t be hit by bullets, before shouting back down, "Miss, you can come up now!"

Miss An Yan then stepped onto the catapult and launched herself out.

Her Combat Power was the strongest among everyone present. Unfortunately, Luolie forbade her from engaging, forcing her to remain temporarily behind the barricade with the injured companions and Mo Shiyan.

The sounds of gunfire, shouts, and footsteps merged into a cacophony. Dry grass, fallen leaves, and dirt were kicked up by running feet, swirling through the air with the smell of gunpowder.

The steward had hidden himself. Holding a megaphone, he shouted at Mo Shiyan, "Young Master Shiyan, this is ultimately a Mo Family affair; it has nothing to do with outsiders! Why should you sacrifice the lives of others to pave your own way?"

Although Mo Shiyan had always been interested in An Yan, the steward could see she had no feelings for him. He guessed that upon hearing this, An Yan would probably stop her people from risking their lives.

Unexpectedly, Miss An Yan had long seen through his attempt to sow discord and remained silent.

Mo Shiyan, however, was enraged. "Steward, have your men cease fire immediately, and I can let this go! But if you insist on fighting to the death, then I, Mo Shiyan, am prepared to see this through to the end!"

The steward laughed. "Are you going to ’see this through to the end’ with Miss An Yan’s people?"

Mo Shiyan subconsciously glanced at An Yan. "I absolutely didn’t mean that, Miss An Yan. You can have your people withdraw."

An Yan looked at him with disdain. "Do you really think the steward came here just to kill you?"

Mo Shiyan was taken aback. "Miss An Yan, you... you think the steward doesn’t want you to rescue my grandfather, so he intends to eliminate you as well?"

An Yan’s disdainful expression deepened. This Mo Shiyan really thought too highly of himself. This steward was clearly one of Gu Shifang’s people. Although Gu Shifang inherited the memories of the Great Witch Golden Crow and could control insects, his own Combat Power wasn’t high. With her Insect Repellent Medicine in effect, he was completely helpless against her.

There was no signal in the mountains. An Yan had Wen Ya constantly searching for a signal to send word of their situation, but to no avail. So, where did Mo Shiyan and the steward get their information, and how could they pinpoint their location so accurately? If Officer Xiaohe and the others had sent the message, how would they have known she was in danger? All signs indicated that news of her peril had been deliberately leaked. The enemy not only wanted to kill her, An Yan, here but also intended to use this incident to eliminate others they found inconvenient—like Mo Shiyan, for example.