Chapter Twenty-Three: The Wolf Pack!

"Ah!—" With a heavy thud, Erhu, caught completely off guard, had his carotid artery severed. He collapsed to the ground, shrieking in agony, and soon breathed his last.

Immediately after, a figure leapt down from the tree—it was still Li Zhao.

By all logic, when facing a stronger enemy and after a successful ambush, one should flee at once. Yet Li Zhao did the opposite. He circled the woods, stealthily returned to the scene, and used the same method to carry out a second ambush… Such a tactic was beyond Erhu’s wildest imagination, and it cost him his life!

“Second Brother, what a cruel death! What a vicious little bastard, killing three of us in succession—I’ll never let you go… sob, sob!”

Seeing his brother’s throat slashed open, Sanhu was overwhelmed with grief, yet fear surged in his heart as well. Four brothers had entered the mountains together, and in less than an hour, the eldest, second, and youngest had all been killed in turn. Was he to be the next?

Had he known it would come to this, never mind two hundred taels of gold—even for two thousand, twenty thousand, they would not have taken this job, nor would they have ever provoked this lad before him.

So young, yet so ruthless—having killed three men in cold blood, not even blinking an eye. This boy wasn’t human; he was the reincarnation of a fiend, a god of death walking the earth!

Meanwhile, after his successful ambush, Li Zhao did not flee this time. Instead, he strode toward Sanhu, his whole being exuding murderous intent, even making a throat-slitting gesture.

“What… what do you want?” Sanhu stammered.

“Heh, what do I want? I’m here to send you on your way, to reunite you with your three brothers. They’re all waiting for you on the other side—if you leave now, you’ll surely catch up with them!”

“You’re not human… you little fiend… little demon!”

Truth be told, in a head-on fight, Sanhu would have outmatched Li Zhao in skill, strength, and weaponry. But the grisly deaths of his brothers had utterly broken his nerve. He didn’t even have the courage to look Li Zhao in the eye, let alone fight him.

Howling in terror, he turned to flee, even throwing away his short blade, desperate to get as far as possible from this little demon. All he could think of was escape.

“Stand still, you coward! If you’re a man, face me in a duel to the death!” Li Zhao’s intent was to shatter his enemy’s morale, but his psychological warfare worked too well—Sanhu bolted in terror, forcing Li Zhao to give chase.

Their enmity was now set in stone; to leave it unresolved would only lead to disaster. Yet no matter how hard Li Zhao ran, he couldn’t catch up.

There was no helping it—Sanhu’s terror had driven him to tap into every ounce of his potential, fleeing faster than a rabbit. In no time he burst out of the thicket, vanishing without a trace.

What now? If you don’t uproot the weeds, they’ll regrow in the spring breeze!

“Hm?”

Amid his frustration, Li Zhao was startled to see Sanhu tearing back toward him, running even faster than before. What was going on—had he returned to fight to the death?

Looking closer, Li Zhao saw something was chasing Sanhu—not human, but canine in form.

No, not dogs—wolves!

A chorus of howls rang out. One, two, three… a whole pack of over a dozen blue wolves came tearing into view, snapping at Sanhu and forming a tightening noose around him, making his escape impossible.

At the head of the pack was a massive blue wolf, twice as large as the others, its pelt lustrous, its fangs and claws razor-sharp, and its howl resounding with the unmistakable authority of a king. It was clear this was no ordinary beast.

Hunters from Qianlong Ridge had spoken of a giant blue wolf in Mount Zhongnan—the wolf king of several hundred miles, so fierce it could bite through wild boars, a terror no one dared provoke. Surely, this was the one they’d spoken of.

But why had the wolf pack left the depths of the mountains for the outskirts today? It must be the scent of blood from the corpses that had drawn them—wolves’ noses are renowned for their keenness, surpassing even hunting dogs!

“Help… help… ah!”

Though Sanhu had some martial skill, he was no match for a wolf pack. He was soon dragged to the ground, his throat torn out, and torn apart in a bloody scene too ghastly to witness.

Worse yet, after devouring Sanhu, the wolves showed no sign of leaving. Their eyes fixed on Li Zhao, they began to encircle him, eager for another taste of fresh meat.

What now? Even Li Zhao began to panic.

Run? Two legs can never outrun four; even if he ran himself to exhaustion, he’d never outpace the wolves and would collapse, unable to resist.

Climb a tree? He’d left the forest behind, and there wasn’t a single large tree in sight—only boulders and broken stones.

Cry for help? In these desolate mountains, there wasn’t a soul nearby; he could scream himself hoarse to no avail.

Left with no options, Li Zhao pressed his back to a boulder, gripping his hatchet tightly, steeling himself for a last stand. If it came to it, he resolved to end his own life swiftly—better a quick death than being torn apart alive.

Who would have thought that he, a man who had traversed time, would end up as wolf food before achieving glory or winning a beautiful wife? What a disgrace!

Just then, as the wolves closed in and battle seemed inevitable, a sharp bark rang out beside him. A flash of white darted to his side, rolling playfully on the ground in a show of affection.

It was the White Spirit Dog he’d released not long ago—come now, at the critical moment, to his rescue.

“Little White, why are you here… Thank you for coming to save me, but in this situation I’m afraid there’s no hope. You should run while you can—there’s no need for you to die with me. If there’s a next life, we’ll be friends again. Go, quickly!” Seeing the White Spirit Dog, Li Zhao was both overjoyed and helpless.

He was glad to have an ally at such a dire moment—it warmed his heart, proof that his earlier kindness had not been wasted.

But he also knew that no matter how formidable the White Spirit Dog was, it couldn’t overcome a hungry wolf pack. Not only would it fail to save him, it would likely lose its own life. Better he alone bear the consequences, so he urged his friend to run.

But what happened next completely defied Li Zhao’s expectations.

The White Spirit Dog barked a few times, and instantly, the wolves halted. After exchanging glances, they quickly retreated into the woods to feast on the corpses of Erhu and Sihu.

Only the wolf king remained, eyeing Li Zhao hungrily, its blood-red tongue flicking in and out, unwilling to relinquish its prize.

The White Spirit Dog charged forward, barking furiously at the wolf king. The wolf king howled in response but did not resist—instead, it tucked its tail and withdrew.

What was going on? The wolf king’s strength was at least equal to, if not greater than, the White Spirit Dog’s. Why did it retreat so easily?

No, it wasn’t frightened off—it was scolded off.

Yes, scolded.

Li Zhao didn’t understand the conversation between dog and wolf, but their expressions reminded him of arguments with his girlfriend before he’d crossed time…

Back then, he’d been six foot one, strong as an ox, able to split bricks with a single blow. His girlfriend, on the other hand, was petite and frail, unable to carry even a small bag of rice.

Yet every time they fought, she would always win, and he would admit defeat, head hung low. After all, a true man doesn’t quarrel with women—being henpecked is a badge of honor among Chinese men.

How similar the situations were—what was the relationship between this wolf and this dog?

After driving off the wolves, the White Spirit Dog barked again, leading Li Zhao away from danger, over a ridge, and into a field of tall grass.

There, hidden in the overgrowth, was a semi-circular cave, about three or four feet high. The White Spirit Dog glanced back, barked a few times, and darted inside. After a brief hesitation, Li Zhao followed.

The cave extended some seven or eight meters inside, dry and dimly lit. Scattered across the floor were animal bones and a nest of dry grass, where a litter of puppies was nestled—judging by their size, just over a month old. One, two, three, four… eight puppies in all.

The White Spirit Dog lay down beside the nest, and the puppies immediately crawled over, jostling for milk and yipping with delight.

He hadn’t expected that, after spending months in the mountains, the White Spirit Dog had made a den here and given birth to a litter of pups.

Gazing at the adorable puppies, Li Zhao’s eyes gleamed with excitement. He hurried over, stroking them one by one, utterly enchanted… But after a few moments, he sensed something was amiss—these weren’t ordinary puppies.

Anyone who’s raised dogs knows that puppies’ ears are rounded, their fur soft, their little tails wagging, and their eyes brimming with innocence.

But these little ones had upright, pointed ears, coarse, bristly fur, thick, stiff tails, and a fierce glint in their eyes. These were no puppies.

Could it be… a litter of wolf cubs?