Chapter 112: The Langya Hall

Wang Changgeng's face grew solemn as he sank into deep thought. After a moment, he turned to Zhao Xiyan, who stood anxiously beside him, and asked, “Are there only traces of cavalry? Any news from Yanwu County?”

Feng Yewu shook his head. The men he had sent out so far had not returned with any word; he feared the worst.

Although Wei Nanqi was originally a civil official, his experience in the Court of Judicial Review had honed his skills in intelligence control to perfection. As soon as Feng Yewu left, Wei Nanqi ordered his subordinates to strictly monitor every movement around Yanwu County.

The agents from the Penglai Pavilion were either killed or captured. Following his strict orders to rather kill mistakenly than let anyone escape, Yanwu County had become a black hole for information regarding the Penglai Pavilion.

All secret agents went out but none returned.

After pondering, Wang Changgeng sighed helplessly, retrieving a dark green jade pendant from his chest pocket. Bathed in the slanting rays of dusk, the jade emitted a faint, seductive red glow. He touched the pendant gently and handed it to Zhao Xiyan.

Zhao Xiyan took it and examined the finely carved piece. Within its square frame was the vivid image of a wolf’s head.

“This is...” As the head of the Penglai Pavilion, Zhao Xiyan never forgot what the totem on the pendant symbolized.

Years ago, when King Pingyi was given imperial orders to pacify the Eastern Yi tribes and suppress the Penglai Pavilion, his elite troops carried this totem as their banner.

Wang Changgeng looked up, his eyes flickering with a cold light, and spoke in a low voice, “It’s time to let them out. The elite force I personally trained for the Langya Pavilion—I had thought to deploy them only when I ascended the throne, but now, I must use them for survival.”

The name of Langya City, the fiefdom of King Pingyi, was derived from the elite troops he had raised. Though pronounced the same, the original name was actually ‘Wolf Fang.’

If the Divine Strategy Battalion was the blazing blade cutting through the northern snow, then the Wolf Fang was the cold blade that pierced the darkness of the eastern night.

The reputation of Wolf Fang among the Eastern Yi was no less fearsome than that of the Divine Strategy Battalion among the Tidi tribe.

The Eastern Yi possessed a warrior spirit, and their shadow assassins were enduring beyond measure. Yet all of this seemed fragile in the face of Langya Pavilion’s troops.

Langya Pavilion’s assassins were the beheaders personally trained by Wang Changgeng, possessing extraordinary skills. While the Eastern Yi warriors were fearless of death, Langya’s assassins transcended death itself. The Eastern Yi’s assassination techniques were ruthless and patient, but Langya’s assassins struck with lives on the line, piercing the very soul.

Wolf Fang crushed their opponents by mastering nearly every skill the Eastern Yi excelled in.

Had the Eastern Yi Shadow Saint not intervened personally back then, the Eastern Yi might have long since become merely a county under the Ye dynasty, part of King Pingyi’s fiefdom.

Zhao Xiyan carefully secured the token Wang Changgeng had entrusted to her, bowed her head in respect, and hurried away.

As night gradually descended, the bustling crowds inside and outside Langya City flowed endlessly.

The city gate guards stifled yawns out of boredom.

“Boss, why are there so many people coming and going today?” A soldier carrying a basket filled to the brim with coins approached. These were toll fees paid by travelers passing through.

Though curious, the greed shining in the soldier’s eyes was hard to conceal.

After all, Langya City was at the heart of Wang Changgeng’s fiefdom. Since the Eastern Yi had sought peace, the soldiers here had lived comfortably, receiving regular allowances derived from tolls.

Today’s collection was equivalent to three or five days’ usual intake.

Leaning against the city wall, the gate captain, hat pulled low over his face, lazily lifted the brim to glance around, speaking with the air of one who had seen the world, “This is nothing. Now that the country is peaceful and prosperous, Eastern Yi merchants must pass through Langya City to trade with Ye. With winter approaching, they’re probably rushing to sell off items before they expire. Now get back to your post!”

The captain turned over on his deck chair, savoring memories of last night’s courtesan and muttering to himself as he drifted back to sleep.

With such a hefty toll today, he thought, tonight he could visit Xiao Lian again.

Though scolded, the soldier happily carried the basket to the gate.

Thud... thud... thud...

Just as the soldier reached the gate, he suddenly felt the ground tremble. The coins in his basket jumped lightly.

“What... what’s going on!” The soldier barely had time to ask his comrades before a cloud of dust rose outside Langya City, accompanied by the sound of galloping horses. Shocked, his jaw almost dropped.

“Boss... there’s... enemy activity!”

The soldier stammered, dropping the basket and scrambling back to the captain, his voice trembling with fear.

“What nonsense? This is the west gate. If there’s any enemy, they’d be at the east gate. Get—”

The captain impatiently pulled off his hat, grabbed the soldier by the collar, frowning as he hurried to the gate—and was stopped cold by the scene before him, swallowing his last insult.

Outside the gate stood a squadron of cavalry clad in red iron armor, solemnly mounted and impeccably arranged.

Though silent, a fierce aura of lethal intent radiated from them—far beyond anything the lazy guards of Langya City could muster.

The gate captain recognized the leader by the half of a tiger tally hanging from his waist—the imperial token of the capital—and his anxiety eased.

Relieved that such formidable cavalry were their own men, he listened as the commander spoke through his iron helmet.

“We are the Divine Strategy Battalion from the capital, on orders to patrol. We will not enter the city.”

Xiao Han, the commander of the Divine Strategy Battalion, spoke in a muffled tone.

Before arriving, Wei Nanqi had instructed Sun Changxi not to reveal Feng Yewu’s whereabouts, hence Xiao Han’s carefully crafted explanation.

Thankfully, Wei Nanqi was not present, or he would have rolled his eyes. Such a flimsy excuse was likely only conceivable to someone as dull as Sun Changxi.

...

Meanwhile, in a remote corner of Langya City near an ancient temple, Zhao Xiyan arrived at the location indicated on the back of the jade pendant.

“This place...” she murmured, staring at the somewhat dilapidated temple, momentarily speechless and filled with disbelief.

Though not small, the temple was clearly long abandoned. If the Penglai Pavilion members were truly here, life could hardly be comfortable.

Zhao Xiyan forced a wry smile, pushed open the temple’s worn main gate, and stepped inside.

Outside, the temple appeared shabby, but within the courtyard, three ancient trees stood tall, surrounding a moss-covered dry well.

“Is anyone here?” Zhao Xiyan whispered, the dagger in her hand slipping silently from her palm.

A chilling murderous aura had been encircling the courtyard since she entered.

Instinctively alert as a trained assassin, Zhao Xiyan tensed.

“Who are you?” a hoarse voice suddenly sounded from behind.

She spun around swiftly and saw a figure cloaked in monk’s robes, his face hidden in the shadow of a hood.