The soldiers in the army were all rough and rugged men, completely useless when it came to dealing with children.
The surviving children in the city were all very young, having just lost their close family and been frightened out of their wits. Huddled in the courtyard where they’d been quartered, all they could do was cry.
The two soldiers assigned to watch over them scratched their heads in frustration, completely at a loss. With a major battle imminent, their minds were set on charging into the fray—how could they possibly muster the patience to soothe a bunch of wailing little brats?
Just as they were at their wit’s end, they looked up to see a young woman approaching.
They recognized her. She was the one who’d fallen off a roof before, and it seemed she was familiar with the Commander.
The Commander had specially instructed them to look out for her if danger arose. The two soldiers grumbled inwardly: Watching over this pack of kids was already a headache; now they had to keep an eye on her too? This duty was worse than facing the enemy head-on.
But to their surprise, no sooner had the young woman arrived than she managed to calm the bawling children down completely.
Not a single cry came from the courtyard anymore.
That miraculous?
The two soldiers pricked up their ears suspiciously, curious about just what trick she was using.
Chai Xiaomi crouched down and waved at the smallest child.
“Why are you crying?” she asked, wiping the grubby little face with her sleeve. “Come on, sister will tell you a story.”
The little girl sniffled, watching her with wide eyes.
Chai Xiaomi cleared her throat and mimicked an old woman’s voice: “Once upon a time, deep in the mountains, there lived a big tiger—”
The children’s eyes all lit up. They perked up their ears and crowded closer to her.
“Sit up straight, sit up straight,” Chai Xiaomi said, putting on a stern face. “The tiger will eat whoever doesn’t sit properly.”
The children’s faces paled.
She gave an awkward laugh and quickly waved her hands. “Uh, I mean no! The tiger won’t eat them!”
The courtyard fell dead silent.
A bunch of little tots sat ramrod straight, hardly daring to breathe, terrified that even a single movement might get them snatched away by the tiger.
The two soldiers: “......”
As the story went on, even the two soldiers gradually got drawn in.
One of them couldn’t help but ask, “That guy who fought the tiger… he was so skilled? He killed it with just one wooden club?”
Chai Xiaomi shot him a glare. “Don’t interrupt.”
The other soldier shut his mouth sheepishly, but he didn’t have the heart to leave. Instead, he crept a few steps closer.
“Tigers don’t actually eat good people,” Chai Xiaomi said, softening her voice. “They only eat villains who bully children. So if you behave, the tiger won’t eat you—in fact, it’ll protect you.”
The smallest girl asked timidly, “Really?”
“Of course it’s true,” Chai Xiaomi said, stroking her head. “I’ve seen that tiger before. It’s really majestic, but it never eats well-behaved kids.”
The children exchanged glances, and the fear on their faces slowly began to fade.
Suddenly, a boy asked, “Sister, will that tiger eat the bad guys outside?”
Chai Xiaomi paused for a moment, then looked up toward the city gate.
“Yes,” she said softly. “There are people here, tougher than any tiger, who are protecting us.”
As her words faded, a streak of white light slowly streaked across the sky.
On the highest tower in the city, a youth stood against the wind.
He wore a dark blue Miao costume, with silver stitching on the collar and sleeves. The silver neck ring around his neck tinkled with every movement—an unmistakable mark of the Miao people, wild and untamed.
His ink-black hair was tied high, with stray strands hanging over his forehead, tousled by the wind.
His hands moved swiftly, forming seals. Golden talismans fluttered around him like butterflies, and his heterochromatic pupils reflected the glow of the charms.
A barrier rose up around them, rippling like water, and slowly covered the entire city of Deer City.
“Wow—”
The children gasped in unison, their little heads tipping backward, eyes wide open.
A little girl tugged at Chai Xiaomi’s sleeve. “Sister, that big brother is so handsome! He’s glowing!”
Chai Xiaomi gazed at the figure atop the tower, a small smile curling at the corner of her lips.
“Yeah,” she murmured, a hint of quiet pride in her voice. “He’s very handsome.”
But his face was as cold as ice.
Even as spiritual energy swirled around him and talismans danced, there was a midwinter chill about him.
Clearly, he was still nursing a bellyful of anger—and there was no telling when it would thaw.
In the distance, a horn suddenly blasted from the city wall.
It wasn’t the usual warning. It was a throat-tearing howl, urgent as death’s drumbeat, hammering against everyone’s heart.
The ground seemed to tremble.
At first, it was faint—like the sound of hooves pounding the horizon. Then, it grew closer and heavier, until even the stone beneath their feet was shaking, and tiny pebbles danced in the cracks.
The air seemed to freeze. The children, who had just been marveling, instinctively went silent, barely daring to breathe.
They’re coming...
Song Yueyao stood atop the city wall, gazing down at the horde of barbarian troops pressing against the city.
At the vanguard were massive, grotesque beasts. Some were covered in scales, others bore fleshy wings. Their jagged fangs glinted coldly in the firelight, and their blood-red eyes stared fixedly at the battlements.
A reeking wind rushed up, thick with blood and rot.
She took a deep breath.
“Soldiers, hear my command!”
Her voice cut through the horns, the roars of the beasts, and the thunder of thousands of men.
“Today, the barbarians press against Deer City once more. Should this city fall, behind us lies the entire Liangya Province—tens of thousands of civilians, your families, your wives, and your children!”
“There is no retreat.”
“There is no reinforcement.”
“There is only this wall beneath your feet, and the weapons in your hands!”
She swept her war flag down sharply, the tip pointing at the tide of beasts surging below, and screamed:
“Fight to the death to hold the city! While the city stands, we stand! If the city falls, we fall!”
On the wall, a thousand bowstrings pulled taut in unison. The sound of arrows being nocked was perfectly synchronized.
“Loose arrows!”
The next moment, a rain of arrows rained down, splitting the air with sharp whistles before burying themselves in the surging wave of beasts.
The barrier that Wu Li had set up was like a one-way shield. The beasts outside couldn’t get in, but the arrows from within flew out unimpeded, temporarily holding back the creatures’ attacks. Of course, Wu Li had only just learned this technique from White Cat. In his own words, he didn’t know how long it would hold.
Flying beasts swooped down from above, their massive wings pounding against the barrier and sending rings of ripples through it.
The archers on the wall immediately switched their aim. With a few twangs, several beasts caught the scent and shrank back.
But there were far too many. No sooner had they beaten back a wave in the east than another pressing wave surged in from the west. The archers moved more slowly now; their arms trembled as they drew their bows, and their range grew shorter.
Just as one of the giant winged beasts gathered its strength to ram the barrier again—
Countless bats poured in from every direction, forming a pitch-black cloud that wrapped around the beast like a cocoon.
Wu Li frowned, watching arrow after arrow fall short and land weakly before reaching their targets.
The city’s remaining soldiers were already too few in number; some had only been pressed into service as archers.
“Draw your bows fully!” he snapped at a few of them, his voice seething with frustration. “What, have you not eaten enough? Your arrows fly like limp noodles—forget killing mosquitoes!”
He grabbed a bow from a nearby soldier and nocked an arrow in one swift motion.
"Watch closely. The bow isn't drawn with your arms—it's opened with your back. Your hands just transmit the force; the real power comes from here." He tilted his head, indicating his latissimus dorsi muscles. "If your hands are shaking, it's because you're just using your arms. How much strength do your arms have? You'll go weak after three arrows."
As he spoke, he slowly drew the bowstring back, bending the bow into a perfect crescent.
He aimed, then released the string.
The arrow shot through the air with a sharp whistle, piercing straight through the wing of a diving beast.
The soldiers who had been receiving the field demonstration were stunned.
Judging by his stance, he was clearly a master—so why was his aim so poor?
Wu Li tossed the bow back into a soldier's arms and shot him a glance.
"Just shoot like that."
"Just... shoot the wing?" the soldier ventured to ask.
"..." Wu Li took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to snatch the bow back and smack him in the head with it. "Suit yourself."
He couldn't be bothered with idiots.
The surrounding beasts were momentarily suppressed and stopped advancing.
Song Yueyao finally caught her breath and kindly reminded the soldier, "He was teaching you how to exert force."
Wu Li didn't say another word and turned to leave.
Song Yueyao glanced at his retreating back, her brow slightly furrowed. She felt his temper was unusually high.
Could it be that he'd had another fight with Xiaomi?
But she had no time to dwell on it. Gazing out at the barbarian forces retreating several dozen li from the city—apparently not expecting that even with over a thousand beasts they couldn't breach the walls—they were now setting up camp as if to plan a new strategy.
She withdrew her gaze and issued a solemn order: "Everyone, take shifts standing guard. Report any unusual movement promptly."
If they could just hold out for five days, there would be hope.
