Chapter 129: Crisis in the Northern Frontier

As Wolf-Head recounted his memories, the distant sky gradually shifted in hue.

"So, that means you had to eat human flesh?"

Zhao Xiyan still found the thought impossible to reconcile. She firmly believed that, even in the face of death, she would never resort to cannibalism.

Seeing the look of revulsion in her eyes, Wolf-Head smiled faintly. "I know what you are thinking. That you would rather die than eat it, right?"

Zhao Xiyan did not answer. She merely watched his peculiar pupils in silence, feeling that they were fundamentally different people. As the sky began to brighten, she decided that once Feng Yewu and his party left the city, she would depart as well and return to Penglai Pavilion to continue her duties as Pavilion Master.

Though she had previously considered that Wolf-Head’s formidable skills might be an asset to Penglai Pavilion—perhaps helping her build a force like the Wolf’s Teeth—his words had dispelled that notion. She had no desire for her pavilion to become a pack of man-eating, blood-drinking monsters.

"Senior, I cannot experience or understand what you went through. I will leave once the sun rises. Do not worry; after I return to Penglai Pavilion, I will send people to bring you some food. But... there will be no human flesh."

Wolf-Head merely smiled at her words, unbothered by the sarcasm. After all, the bone-chilling memories etched into one's soul were something those who had not lived through them could never grasp. Moreover, he had no intention of going to Penglai Pavilion; after the clash between Lu Jue and Yang Guang outside Langya Mountain the previous night, his heart had turned toward other objectives.

"There is no need to keep calling me Senior. My name is Feng Sicheng."

Zhao Xiyan had not expected him to share his name, and she suddenly felt that her previous words had been somewhat harsh.

"Feng Sicheng—is that a name from the Ye Dynasty?"

Wolf-Head smiled, a flash of desolation in his eyes, and explained softly, "Feng was my mother’s surname. She gave me the name before she died, though I did not understand its meaning at the time."

"Feng Sicheng..." Zhao Xiyan whispered the name several times, as if coming to a realization. "Actually, your mother must have loved you. It was not as you said. 'Sicheng' implies a hope that you would achieve great things in the future."

"Later, the few of us who survived met the King of Pingyi, who was at war with the Eastern Yi people in the eastern part of the Ye Dynasty. That was how we established the Langya Pavilion together. The others in the Langya Pavilion were all those of mixed blood who had followed me all the way south."

Wolf-Head did not want to continue the discussion about his name, so he steered the topic toward the Langya Pavilion. Seeing his reluctance, Zhao Xiyan did not press the matter.

"Has the Langya Pavilion never recruited anyone else since then?"

Through constant attrition, even the most elite units required fresh blood. How could a mere few dozen people make a difference in a battle involving tens of thousands?

Wolf-Head shook his head, his gaze calm. "No, and there is no need."

The confidence in his voice revealed the backbone of a true master. "After the journey south and surviving various battles, there were only fifty people left when the Langya Pavilion was founded. Yet, including myself, there were twenty masters among us, and the rest were all on the verge of becoming masters."

Zhao Xiyan was stunned. Twenty masters—what an incredible number! They were a force equal to an army of nearly a thousand soldiers. Even more unbelievable was that these twenty had been forged from only a few hundred men.

The ratio was unprecedented. In ordinary times, one would be lucky to see a single master emerge from thousands or tens of thousands of people. She could not even imagine such a figure within the Penglai Pavilion.

As Wolf-Head had said, there was no need for more. The hardships they had endured had tempered the elites of the Langya Pavilion. Zhao Xiyan looked at Feng Sicheng, and for a moment, she forgot about his mention of cannibalism, her prejudice against him gradually shifting.

Personally, she despised his methods, but from a leadership perspective, even without knowing everything they had endured, she could imagine that the Feng Sicheng of that time had been an exceptional leader. Every elite required a process of growth. The nineteen who had ultimately emerged proved that Feng Sicheng had always prioritized the team—not just their survival, but their advancement.

Yet, behind that number lay decisiveness, ruthlessness, and the weighing of life and death. Zhao Xiyan smiled bitterly to herself, thinking that if she had been the one leading the Penglai Pavilion through everything Feng Sicheng had faced, she would never have produced even one master—she likely would have died on the road herself.

...

Inside Langya City, at the residence of the King of Pingyi, the others were worried about the retaliation of the remnants of the Penglai Pavilion. After much persuasion, Feng Yewu finally agreed to take the evidence they had gathered and return to the capital for trial. As for the fight between Lu Jue and Yang Guang, Chen Pingwu brushed it aside, and nothing more was said of it.

The night Lu Jue encountered Yang Guang outside the inn, the sound of clashing blades had awakened Chen Pingwu. Initially, he had not wanted to intervene; Lu Jue’s life or death was no concern of his. However, he was currently in Langya City with only mediocre martial arts, and since the incident, there had been some friction between him and Yang Guang. Lu Jue was the only one truly capable of protecting Feng Yewu.

Fearing that Yang Guang—who had become a master—might kill Lu Jue, leaving Feng Yewu vulnerable to the Penglai Pavilion, Chen Pingwu had eventually rushed to the residence to warn the others. At first, no one took it seriously, believing Lu Jue and Yang Guang were well-matched. But upon hearing that Yang Guang had attained the level of a master, they grew anxious. That was why Feng Yewu had led them out of the city to interrupt the duel.

"Report! An urgent dispatch from the capital!"

Just as Feng Yewu was about to leave the residence, a travel-worn imperial courier galloped up, handing over a letter with an anxious expression. Feng Yewu took it and saw the name "Wu Muxue" on the seal. His heart skipped a beat. Had something major happened in the imperial court? Given her personality, she would not send such an urgent letter lightly.

Seeing the darkening of Feng Yewu's expression, Lu Jue asked softly, "Your Majesty, has there been a change in the capital?"

Wang Changgeng was dead, and the other vassal kings were away at the borders. The court should have been more stable than ever, as no one would dare stir up trouble and risk being branded a coconspirator of the King of Pingyi.

After reading the letter, Feng Yewu shook his head. He looked at Lu Jue with a grave expression and said, "The Tidi tribe has invaded the northern frontier. The situation is critical. Eleven cities have fallen in a single night. Muxue does not know what to do."