The final deep ring of Lin Xiao’s voice faded into the autumn mist. Then, Xiao Hei lowered his broad head and exhaled a long, rumbling breath.
The choking gravity domain that had held Protectors Wu and Zhao pinned to the shattered limestone dissolved like morning fog under bright sunlight. The nearby air pressure snapped back to normal with a soft, bone-shaking whoosh. It scattered loose pine needles across the trail.
For two heartbeats, neither protector dared move. They lay in the dirt, their lungs wildly drinking in air, their eyes darting nervously toward the giant black wolf standing less than ten paces away. Only when they saw Xiao Hei take a casual step backward and sit peacefully on his haunches did the survival instincts of the two Core Formation elders reactivate.
Protector Wu scrambled up with wild, graceless haste, his muddy fingers slipping against the gravel. He didn’t even pause to wipe the dried spit from his beard or recover his fallen dao-saber. Beside him, Protector Zhao lunged forward on trembling legs, grabbed the still-gibbering Young Master Yan by the scruff of his shredded silk collar and the waistband of his stitched trousers. Then he hoisted him off the ground.
“Up! Into the carriage!” Zhao croaked, his voice cracking with panicked desperation.
Yan Zixuan kicked his legs in wild, spastic circles, his eyes rolled back until only the whites showed. “The blue mouth! It’s opening! Mother, the jelly has no teeth! Don’t let it salt my liver!”
With an unceremonious heave that would have horrified the etiquette masters of the Crimson Flame Pavilion, Protector Zhao tossed the sect’s bloodline heir straight through the silk curtains into the rear of the palanquin. Yan Zixuan landed with a heavy thud against a pile of silk cushions, right away curling into a tight, shivering ball and pulling a fur blanket over his ears.
Gu Long and the four scouts didn’t wait for orders. They threw themselves at the carriage door like drowning men clawing onto a driftwood plank, tumbling over one another in a tangle of boots, sword sheaths, and tangled robes until all five were packed onto the floorboards.
Envoy Lu Yunzhi vaulted onto the neck of the four-winged Cloud-Plume Crane. His spotless white robes were streaked with gray limestone dust, his topknot askew, and his face soaked in cold sweat. He pulled a spiritual riding crop from his belt and whipped the crane’s flank with wild force.
“Climb!” Envoy Lu shrieked, his voice climbing an entire octave. “Ignite the wind magic charms! Full speed! Fly! FLY!”
The great crane didn’t need to be told twice. Scared by the lingering scent of Xiao Hei’s apex hunting beast aura, the beast let out an ear-splitting screech, spread its four clean wings. Then he kicked off the limestone bluff with violent power.
A blast of churning wind flattened the surrounding ferns as the heavy sandalwood palanquin rocketed straight into the sky. The carriage banked sharply to the north, weaving erratically between the jagged mountain peaks as Envoy Lu pushed the beast far beyond its safe cruising speed. Behind them, a fluttering trail of white downy feathers and torn silk ribbons drifted lazily toward the forest floor, marking the wild path of their retreat.
Within ten seconds, the golden carriage was reduced to a tiny, trembling speck against the northern clouds, vanishing beyond the mountain horizon without a single backward glance.
Back in the boundary clearing, the mountain gorge fell into a deep, peaceful silence.
The gentle murmur of the nearby brook resumed its calm rhythm, washing over the smooth river stones. High above, the white mist of the Eight-Trigrams Bend Array slowly rolled back into the gap between the crescent peaks, sealing the entrance to the valley once more.
Perched atop Xiao Hei’s head, Lin Xiao leaned forward and hopped down onto the grass.
BOING.
He bounced twice, settling his azure jelly body into a neat, round dome beside the lightning-blasted stump. He looked around the clearing, taking stock of the debris left behind in the fighters’ wild escape.
They had fled in sheer. Because of that, pure existential panic, the Crimson Flame expedition had fully neglected their campsite on the outer ledge.
Resting beneath the shelter of a limestone overhang were two large travel pavilions built from heavyweight golden-threaded spirit silk, supported by collapsible polished rosewood poles. Near the fire pit sat three brass-bound wooden supply crates that had fallen from the carriage during the crane’s violent takeoff. And lying in the mud right beside the shattered celadon tea bowl were several discarded items that caught the afternoon sunlight.
Lin Xiao hopped over to the nearest crate, extending a fluid slime arm to pop the brass latch.
Inside, packed carefully in fragrant cedar shavings, were six-sided tins of hammered green copper. It was sealed with scarlet beeswax. Lin Xiao used a thin pseudo-claw to peel back the wax of the first canister.
An ghostly, grassy fragrance billowed out. It carried the crisp, clean chill of high-mountain morning mist and roasted chestnuts.
“Test complete,” the Omniscient Dao Spirit chimed smoothly in his mind. “Target asset: First-Pick Pre-Rain Dragon-Well Spirit Tea. Grade-2 High-Tier Herbal Leaf. Harvested only from nine-hundred-year-old tea bushes on the Cloud-Mist Peak of Heavenly Sword Manor. Total volume: Six canisters, about twelve pounds. Free of spiritual dirt. Rich in core-clearing polyphenols.”
Lin Xiao’s curved white eyes widened into joyful circles.
First-pick Dragon-Well tea! Lin Xiao thought, a delighted quiver passing through his mantle. And twelve whole pounds of it! That haughty envoy had exquisite taste in beverages, even if his manners were atrocious. Steeping this in our stone spring water tomorrow morning is going to be heavenly.
Beside the tea crates, Lin Xiao spotted a dark maroon spatial pouch dropped by Protector Wu. Just then, he scrambled into the carriage. Lin Xiao swept a fluid limb across the pouch’s drawstring, overturning its space-folding contents onto the moss.
A glittering cascade of four hundred and fifty cut spirit stones tumbled out, clinking cheerfully against one another. It was followed by twenty heavy metal bars of refined mountain pig-iron and three spools of enchanted silver binding cord.
Then, Lin Xiao turned toward the edge of the path.
There, half-sunk in the damp mud, rested the gold-plated Grade-2 Beast-Binding Slave Collar that Yan Zixuan had thrown across the stones.
Xiao Hei walked over, sniffed the cursed metal with a wrinkling nose of supreme disgust. Then he raised his heavy front paw.
CRUNCH.
With a single, easy press of his black glass claws, the wolf king crushed the gold-trimmed slave collar and its bloodline stone carving core into a handful of flattened, useless brass filings. He kicked the debris aside with a shrugging snort, trotting back to Lin Xiao’s side and lowering his snout so Lin Xiao could pat him.
“A fitting end for slave chains, Master,” Xiao Hei rumbled softly.
Agreed, Lin Xiao replied, stroking the wolf’s velvet cheek. We don’t keep chains in this valley, and we certainly don’t let anyone else bring them in. But look at everything else they left! Clean silk tents that Auntie Bai can repurpose into harvest granary tarps, twenty bars of iron for Tie Shan’s forge, and four hundred spirit stones for our treasury.
A crisp system box appeared before Lin Xiao’s eyes:
Zero casualties on both sides, Lin Xiao noted happily. Nobody died, the forest didn’t burn down, and we gained enough premium tea to last through the entire winter. If every invading young master left behind twelve pounds of Dragon-Well tea, I might have to invite them over more often.
“Host,” the Dao Spirit remarked with dry amusement. “Your culinary optimism continues to defy standard tactical doctrine. However, heat-powered tracking data indicates the Crimson Flame Sect carriage has crossed the northern mountain boundary at maximum speed. Local outer edge security is fully restored.”
Lin Xiao opened his Void Dantian storage pocket, the spatial vortex spinning like a tiny sapphire whirlpool at his center.
With several neat, fluid sweeps of his pseudopods, the six canisters of high-mountain Dragon-Well tea, the four hundred and fifty sparkling spirit stones, the twenty dense bars of pig-iron. The heavy bundles of golden-threaded silk were sucked smoothly into frozen stillness inventory. They joined the thirty-eight pounds of refined Scarlet Star-Iron and the leftover piece ruby crossguard of the devoured flying sword, arranged in neat, orderly rows within the spatial frozen stillness vault.
Su Ling’er is going to love these spirit stones for our town ledger, Lin Xiao reflected with a satisfied little wobble. She’s been keeping balance sheets on cedar bark, tallying every bushel of turnips and every bundle of firewood. Four hundred and fifty spirit stones gives us a real trading reserve if mortal caravans ever pass through the border passes.
Lin Xiao gave an energetic, bouncy hop, sailing through the cool mountain air before landing comfortably back between Xiao Hei’s broad, muscular ears. He flattened his jelly-like base against the wolf king’s crown. He anchored his water-flow surface so that neither sudden turns nor bounding strides could dislodge him.
“Come on, Xiao Hei,” Lin Xiao said cheerfully, giving the wolf’s furry brow an affectionate pat. “Let’s head back to the forge. Tie Shan is going to lose his mind. Just then, he sees what kind of metal we brought him for the kitchen. Tonight, we celebrate a successful harvest defense with roasted chestnuts and fresh tea!”
Xiao Hei let out a happy, deep-throated woof that echoed off the granite cliffs. With an easy flex of his powerful hind legs, the Starry Shadow Gale Hound surged across the limestone shelf. It leapt through the parting mist like a streak of pure midnight lightning. It carried his little blue master back toward the warm, fragrant heart of the safe hall.