The stairs led to a doorway above, wide enough for a Liberation truck to pass through. The sides of the door were adorned with felt and ancient yellow silk embroidered with red Tibetan characters. The faded color of the silk suggested it was at least several centuries old. He instinctively felt that this staircase was not meant for people, as no one could climb it; it was prepared for the girl. So where did this staircase lead? Strange felt and talismans surrounded him, and several Tibetans hurriedly left, indicating there must be something extraordinary inside. The young man pressed on the stairs to test their sturdiness; with just a little force, his body instantly leaped upward. He didn’t step on the crossbeams but instead climbed up the long rods on either side of the staircase. Before he could reach the yellow silk at the door, a loud gunshot rang out, hitting the wood at his feet and causing it to explode. The young man reacted quickly, jumping out and grabbing the felt hanging beside him, flipping himself down. Almost simultaneously, gunfire erupted from below, bullets striking the staircase. By the time the bullets shifted to the felt, the young man had already burrowed into it. He held his breath and looked in the direction of the gunfire, catching a glimpse of a blue-clad figure moving quickly among the felt.
With his hand on the ground, he listened carefully to discern the person’s movement while feeling around for anything he could use for defense. Just as his hand touched the floor, a bullet pierced through several layers of felt, narrowly missing his ear as he instinctively moved his head. He immediately realized that his opponent was no ordinary person and not someone easy to deal with. However, the young man had plenty of experience handling such individuals. Suddenly, he stood up and sprinted low to the ground, hearing bullets whizzing past him. In the blink of an eye, he reached a charcoal stove and stepped onto the burning coals. The coals flared up, and taking advantage of the moment, he jumped more than a person’s height, grabbing onto a piece of felt and hanging there silently like a bat. Almost simultaneously, several bullets struck the stove, knocking it over, and the blue-clad figure rushed in.
In this kind of close-quarters combat, although the shooter had powerful weapons, they lacked any information advantage. If they encountered someone nimble, they could easily be ambushed. The best strategy was to run towards the direction of the gunfire because the shooter would have to leave after firing, and the area they vacated would inevitably be safe. The shooter was most affected by the gunfire; after multiple shots without hitting anything, the chances of being ambushed increased significantly, as they had no idea how close someone might get while they were firing. In this seemingly concealed space, where the felt provided no real cover, this approach was the most practical.
So, the blue-clad person dashed to the side of the path, and just as the young man descended upon him, he landed heavily, pressing his knees down on the blue-clad figure’s shoulders. The combination of weight, gravity, and speed caused the blue-clad man to kneel instantly. The young man twisted his waist but did not tightly hold his head; instead, he clamped down on his arm and with a forceful twist, disarmed him of the long gun he held. The gun fell to the ground, and the young man kicked it away, standing still to see who he was dealing with. Before he could get a clear look, the opponent reacted quickly, drawing a concealed dagger, and a flash of cold light aimed directly at the young man’s face.
The young man had no chance to use his gun, but if someone tried to engage him in close combat, that would be a death wish. He slightly sidestepped to avoid the blade, and his fist struck the blue-clad man’s nose through the gap. At that moment, if anyone had been nearby, they wouldn’t have had time to see how he struck; all they would hear was the dull thud of a fist hitting flesh as the blue-clad man fell to the ground. The young man crouched down and seized the blue-clad man’s knife hand, applying pressure, effectively locking him in place while the knife slipped from his grasp.
Looking down, the young man saw a very young Tibetan, no more than eighteen or nineteen years old, writhing in pain and speaking something in Tibetan. The young man knew that the gunfire had alarmed many people, and he couldn’t stay here long. Just as he was about to knock him out and leave, he saw more blue-clad Tibetans emerging from behind the felt, dozens of them, all armed with long guns pointed at him. The young man sighed softly, but to his surprise, all the Tibetans squatted down and performed the most respectful gesture of reverence typical among Tibetans.
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