Chapter 17: Dashi Camp

Had the timing been right, Xia Hong would have praised Xia Chuan a few words.

He had originally worried his younger brother was too young to keep his cool, but unexpectedly proved to be so clever.

Judging from the expressions on Wang Ming and the other three.

Tonight, only these four must have come.

Xia Hong narrowed his eyes, scanning the four of them, then fixed his gaze on the great knife in Wang Ming’s hand, considering whether to keep them here.

He dared show up tonight because he had some backing.

Unbeknownst to him, Xia Hong’s appraisal made Wang Ming think he was weighing whether to summon Xia Ding.

Three kids this young, he Wang Ming wasn’t afraid of fighting them.

But if he couldn’t take them down quickly, or let one slip away, and they called Xia Ding and his crew over, it would become a fight to the death.

No—if Xia Ding really brought over a dozen Woodcutting Realm men.

Even with that great knife, all four of them would be dead tonight.

Wang Ming weighed it in his mind for a moment, then made his decision swiftly.

“Young cousins, no need for this—we’ll put down the crystal fruits and leave. We’ll never trespass on Great Xia’s territory again. Farewell!”

Once he decided, Wang Ming hesitated no longer. He signaled his companions to drop the gathered crystal fruits on the ground, said farewell, and quickly led the three away toward the west, not looking back.

Xia Hong watched the four disappear into the distance, waited a while longer, then turned back and gave Xia Chuan a thumbs-up.

“Good kid, you’ve got guts!”

Xia Chuan grinned and said: “We couldn’t fight them, so we just put on a show to scare them off.”

Hearing this, Xia Hong raised an eyebrow slightly but said nothing.

A direct clash with Dashi Camp right now would be unwise.

Xia Ding and the logging team have been missing for over a month; they haven’t shown up near Redwood Ridge this long. Dashi Camp must have noticed.

Otherwise, they wouldn’t dare trespass so brazenly.

If this drags on longer, they might start suspecting other things.

The past three times Xia Hong encountered them, there were seven or more of them, so he had to yield.

But tonight, they came with only four men—and no archers.

Such a perfect opportunity? Xia Hong wouldn’t miss it.

After this, Dashi Camp’s men should tone down their arrogance for a while.

“Still, we need to find a way to get Yue Feng and the others to break through soon. This bluff won’t work more than once or twice—use it too often, and we’ll expose ourselves.”

Xia Chuan and Yuan Cheng had already slung the crystal fruits onto their backs; sensing their weight—over a thousand jin—they both broke into smiles.

To get this much on their first outing? Definitely worth celebrating.

“Alright, remember the location of the third Bingshuo tree. Now follow me to cut wood. Tonight, each of you cuts one tree and brings it back.”

Both quickly responded and hurried after Xia Hong.

………………

East of Redwood Ridge, north of the slope where Great Xia’s camp sits, stands a straight, hundred-meter-high small mountain.

The mountain resembles a vertical tower, about fifty to sixty meters wide, its peak entirely covered in snow, with only the protruding trees bent under the snow; the rest of its body is made of pitch-black stone.

The stones aren’t just black—they’re coated in thick crystalline layers, clearly formed by years of freezing cold.

On the mountain’s eastern side, a long vine hangs down.

Now, four figures are climbing it rapidly upward.

Though over a hundred meters high, the four moved fast, reaching the summit in just a few minutes.

The summit was a fifty-meter-wide platform, devoid of any trees.

Upon reaching the top, the four walked straight to the center, brushed aside a patch of snow, and revealed a five-meter-square wooden board.

The leader, familiar with the place, lifted the board—beneath it lay a three-meter-diameter hole, and a flicker of firelight immediately glowed from within.

One by one, the four jumped into the cave; the last one pulled the board back into place and covered the opening again.

Beneath the opening was a vast, over-thirty-meter-wide square chamber.

The chamber stretched thirty to forty meters from ceiling to floor, with a middle layer built of wood and stone.

On the stone floor, a two-meter-tall bonfire burned.

Around the fire sat three or four hundred people, laughing and chatting.

A few children played nearby.

These people clearly had far better vigor and spirit than those in Great Xia’s camp.

As soon as the four jumped down, someone in the crowd immediately stepped forward with a smile.

But when he drew closer and saw their empty hands, his face darkened with confusion.

“Old Wang, why come back empty-handed?”

“Bad luck—don’t mention it. Where’s the boss? I need to speak with him.”

“Downstairs, practicing archery.”

“Good, let’s go down.”

After a brief reply, Wang Ming hurried toward the eastern side of the cave.

The eastern stone wall sloped gently downward; Wang Ming followed the slope and soon reached the cave’s lower level.

The lower level was similar in size to the upper, also lit by a bonfire—but smaller.

Beside the fire, two men faced a wooden wall, drawing bows and shooting arrows.

“Boss, there’s news from Redwood Ridge.”

At Wang Ming’s words, both men lowered their bows and turned to look at him.

Both were middle-aged, similarly built—slim frames, hands covered in calluses from gripping bows.

Not just their builds—even their faces bore seven-tenths resemblance.

But the man on the left bore a one-inch scar across his face, his fierce expression and dark skin radiating menace.

The one on the right was slightly paler and had a gentler face.

Wang Ming walked straight toward the man on the right.

Clearly, the “boss” he meant was this one.

Seeing Wang Ming approach, the man narrowed his eyes and spoke calmly:

“What’s the situation?”

“Just went to gather crystal fruits on the outskirts—ran into three Great Xia people.”

“Old Ding?”

“No—his two sons.”

Hearing this, Shi Qing froze, then stared in disbelief. “Old Ding’s two sons? You’re sure?”

Wang Ming thought for a moment, then nodded firmly: “Certain. I saw both boys clearly—they look just like Old Ding, and their ages match. They’re definitely his sons.”

“How old are Old Ding’s sons? And with only thirteen people in Great Xia, where did they get extra cold-beast meat to feed their two sons?”

Shi Dong, who had been silent until now, blurted out in shock.

But as soon as he spoke, he turned and saw his brother Shi Qing’s face had turned grim.

Shi Dong was hot-headed, but not stupid—he instantly grasped the implication.

“Brother, you think… last time, that Snowmane beast was snatched by Old Ding’s crew?”

Wang Ming smacked his forehead in sudden realization: “Of course! That’s it! Great Xia’s thirteen are far weaker than us—they’ve spent years scavenging cold-beast corpses just to survive. How could they spare meat for two sons? It must’ve been that Snowmane.”

The three reached consensus; their faces darkened instantly.

Last time hunting the Snowmane, they lost three men—including Shi Qing’s third brother, Shi Kong.

And still, they fled in panic, empty-handed.

Now learning Great Xia’s camp stole the prize—how could they not seethe?

Not just stole it—they likely watched from the shadows the whole time we fought the Snowmane.

Waited until we ran, then came out to claim the reward.

“Daring to play such a treacherous trick behind our backs? In a few days, I’ll lead the team to Redwood Ridge myself. Let’s see what strength Great Xia really has now.”

Shi Qing’s voice turned icy; his once gentle face sank into cold fury.

Beside him, Shi Dong and Wang Ming’s faces burned with rage.

(End of Chapter)