Volume 1, Chapter 33: Today! Blood for Blood!

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“Husband, I’ll come keep you company tonight.”

“I will!”

“But I got here first...”

Yang Wenxiu’s voice was tinged with shyness. Han Li and Yang Wenjuan immediately began competing for his attention, but Su Ying suddenly drew her swallow-feather saber from beneath the covers. A cold flash swept past his groin...

“Ah!”

Zhang Muyang let out a howl of pain and jerked awake.

He was not at home. He was lying inside a cramped snow cave.

The campfire crackled, sparks scattering against the rock walls and casting the surroundings in a warm golden glow.

Zhang Muyang stared blankly for two seconds, then instinctively reached down to check himself... Fortunately, everything was still there. It had only been a nightmare.

“You... you’re awake?”

Bai Zhi’s voice came from beside him, hesitant and awkward. Her cheeks were flushed crimson.

When Zhang Muyang had awakened, his frantic movements had left her at a loss. She kept her head bowed low.

Only then did Zhang Muyang notice that all his wounds had been wrapped in hemp cloth. The coolness of medicinal herbs seeped through the fabric, easing much of the pain.

“Bai Zhi, where are we? Did you bandage my wounds?”

“Yes.”

Bai Zhi nodded and said softly, “The snow was too heavy and blocked the mountain passes. Brother Wang said we should wait until it stopped before going down the mountain.”

As she spoke, footsteps sounded outside the snow cave.

Several hunters entered, snow still clinging to their clothes.

Wang Yi carried a roasted wild rabbit, its skin browned to a crisp. He held it out to Zhang Muyang.

“You’re awake? Eat something while it’s hot.”

Zhang Muyang did not stand on ceremony. He tore off a hearty bite and asked, “Bai Zhi, how did you and Old Bai end up in the mountains?”

“It was like this...”

Old Bai was a famous physician throughout the surrounding villages. With the weather turning cold and many villagers coming down with colds and fevers, he had taken Bai Zhi into the mountains to gather medicinal herbs. But as soon as they entered the forest, they were spotted by that white wolf. Her father had ordered her to climb a tree and hide while he was surrounded by the pack. If Zhang Muyang had not happened to arrive, she would likely have died as well.

By the end of her story, her voice had choked with emotion, and tears pattered onto her knees.

Without her father, she was all alone in the world.

Zhang Muyang fell silent for a moment, then gently patted her shoulder.

“How far is Wangjia Village from Tiger Beacon Pass?”

Tiger Beacon Pass?

Wang Yi was taken aback. Only then did he answer, “It’s a long way. If we head south, we’ll reach North-Guard Pass. As for this place... it has long been part of Northern Yan.”

“Northern Yan?”

“That’s right! Three years ago, Emperor Liang Wen fought a great war against Northern Yan. Two hundred thousand soldiers were lost almost to the last man. The court had no choice but to cede all the land north of North-Guard Pass. Our villages became subjects of Northern Yan.”

Wang Yi glanced at the scaled armor Zhang Muyang wore.

“Judging by your armor, you’re a squad leader in the Border Pacification Army, aren’t you? Rest here and recover. Once your wounds have healed, we’ll find a way to get you back.”

“Thank you.”

Zhang Muyang clasped his hands in gratitude.

“What are you thanking him for?” A tall, thin hunter leaned over with a broad grin. “My name’s Wang Dadong. Let me tell you, Brother Wang used to be a divine archer in the Great Liang army. He was even a battalion commander!”

“Dadong, enough,” Wang Yi snapped, though there was no real anger on his face.

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“Fine, fine.” Wang Dadong chuckled. “We still don’t know your name.”

“Zhang Muyang.”

“Muyang?”

Wang Dadong’s eyes lit up.

“Does your family raise livestock? When we get back to the village, Sister-in-law Wang can stew some mutton for you. She makes it wonderfully fragrant!”

At the mention of his wife and child, a gentle smile appeared on Wang Yi’s face as well.

The atmosphere in the snow cave gradually relaxed. Wang Dadong began telling amusing stories about Wangjia Village, while Wang Yi occasionally added a few words. Bai Zhi’s emotions slowly settled, too.

By noon, the blizzard outside finally ceased.

The group emerged from the snow cave. All around them stretched a boundless expanse of white. Sunlight spilled across the snow, dazzling enough to make their eyes ache.

Wang Dadong muttered, “At this rate, we’ll be walking until the end of time...”

“Wait.”

Zhang Muyang picked up two thick branches, shaved them into several planks, and quickly assembled a sled.

What a useful idea!

The hunters were nimble with their hands. Soon, every one of them had a sled, and they had also fashioned a simple drag sled on which to place Old Bai’s body.

Though Bai Zhi was a young woman, she had spent years climbing the mountains to gather herbs. She was quick and capable, and she followed behind on her sled without slowing anyone down.

“Once we cross that ridge ahead, we’ll be able to see Wangjia Village.” Wang Yi pointed toward the distant hills, a rare smile appearing on his face.

“Let’s see who gets there first!”

Wang Dadong shouted and shot forward.

But when they reached the ridge, everyone came to an abrupt halt.

Wangjia Village lay at the foot of the mountain, frighteningly silent. At this hour, smoke should have been rising from every chimney, while children played in the snow. Now the village seemed to have been stripped of all life. Only the charred remains of several houses remained, blackened timbers jutting from the ruins. Even the heavy snow could not conceal the marks left by the flames.

Wang Dadong’s voice trembled.

“What happened?”

Wang Yi’s face went deathly pale. He charged down the ridge.

“Quick! Get down there and see!”

The sleds carved deep tracks through the snow as everyone hurried desperately toward the village.

The closer they drew, the stronger the smell of blood became.

At the village entrance, several tattered garments hung from a crooked tree. The snow on the ground had been stained dark red, and drag marks were still visible.

“Father! Mother!”

A young hunter rushed into the village, shouting and weeping. Moments later, a heart-rending scream rang out.

Wang Yi stormed toward his own courtyard like a madman. The gate stood half open. His wife lay on the ground in disordered clothing, an arrow broken off in her chest, her body covered in blood.

Not far away, half buried in a drift, was the small body of his five-year-old son. The child still clutched a broken peachwood bow in his hand. His little face had frozen purple, and he was long dead.

“Ah...”

Wang Yi released a beastlike roar and slammed his fist into a nearby stone. Blood streamed between his fingers.

The snow exploded outward. The bluestone buried beneath it actually shattered into pieces.

Wang Dadong stared at the broken arrows and scattered millet, then roared, “Northern Yan bandits! Look at these hoofprints—and the broken arrows. They’re all marks of the Northern Yan iron cavalry!”

Zhang Muyang surveyed the devastation and tightened his grip on the Cold-Feather Saber at his waist.

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These villagers were Liang subjects at heart, yet they had also become subjects of Northern Yan. And still they had been slaughtered so brutally—not even the children spared. It was the work of utter monsters.

“You two stay behind and help Bai Zhi bury Old Bai and the villagers.” Wang Yi pointed at two of the hunters, his eyes terrifyingly red. “We’re going after them!”

“I’m coming with you.”

The Cold-Feather Saber hung at Zhang Muyang’s waist, while fury burned in his eyes.

Bai Zhi bit her lip and nodded.

“Be careful.”

They traveled more than ten miles deeper into the mountains. Ahead, they finally spotted a detachment of Northern Yan cavalry: around twenty riders on warhorses, pulling three wagons piled with grain and livestock. They were moving north at an unhurried pace, apparently intending to return to Northern Yan.

“There’s a slope ahead. It’s a good place for an ambush.”

Wang Yi studied the surroundings and spoke in a low voice.

“We’ll circle around and deal with them using our bows.”

Zhang Muyang looked at his calm profile and nodded inwardly. As befitted a former battalion commander, Wang Yi could still calmly find the perfect ambush site even beneath the weight of such grief.

The group rode their sleds in silence, circling around to the top of the slope.

The snow rose above their knees. They lay prone in the snow and drew their bows.

Half an incense stick later, the Northern Yan cavalry slowly entered the kill zone.

One squad leader was humming a Northern Yan tune, a stolen silver bracelet turning idly between his fingers.

Wang Yi suddenly raised his hand, then brought it sharply down.

“Kill!”

More than a dozen arrows flew at once, descending upon the enemy like a shower of rain.

The squad leader’s humming abruptly ceased. An arrow pierced his throat, and he toppled backward from the saddle. The other Northern Yan soldiers were also thrown into chaos by the volley, tumbling from their horses as screams rose one after another.

“Excellent archery!”

Zhang Muyang secretly applauded. The hunters’ arrows were astonishingly accurate, striking almost without fail. Their skill was even greater than that of the Border Pacification Army’s archers.

The remaining Northern Yan soldiers quickly reacted. They leaped from their horses and took cover behind the wagons and mounts, firing back with their bows.

The arrows hissed through the air, but the snow and slope shielded the hunters. None of them could be harmed.

“Let’s finish them!”

Wang Yi gave a low growl and slid down the slope on his sled. When he neared the enemy, he used his momentum to launch himself into the air, bringing the curved saber in his hand down upon a Northern Yan soldier hiding behind a horse.

“Kill!”

Zhang Muyang followed close behind, the Cold-Feather Saber flashing coldly in the sunlight.

Wang Dadong and the other hunters charged down as well, their battle cries exploding across the snowy plain...

Blood debts must be paid in blood!

The sounds of combat, clashing weapons, and screams intertwined. Blood spread farther and farther across the snow, soon covered by fresh snowfall—but even the snow could not conceal the hatred that had sunk into their very bones.