Chapter 824: Homemade Weapon Offends the Beast, Solo Infiltrates the Camp to Face a Pack of Wolves

The black horse ran along the official road for almost an hour; Chen Yan, on the horse's back, tore off the moon‑white brocade robe and tossed it by the roadside, revealing the close‑fitting dark‑colored narrow‑sleeved combat outfit underneath.

He shoved the jade pendant and jade bracelet at his waist straight into the saddle bag, drew the Horizontal Blade from the scabbard at the saddle side, and hung it back on his waist.

Hongye followed at a distance of about half a horse's length behind him, his gaze constantly scanning the terrain on both sides of the official road, his right hand always resting on the hilt of the short sword tucked in his sleeve.

On the distant horizon, the outline of a military camp gradually became clear against the backlight of the setting sun.

The camp spanned a vast area; its outer perimeter was a fence made of sharpened round logs, behind which lay three ditches filled with iron thistles, and the Camp Gate bore a faded military flag embroidered with a crooked "He" character.

Chen Yan, three hundred steps from the Camp Gate, tightened the reins and scanned the camp twice with his eyes.

"Hongye."

Hongye's horse stood side by side with his, bridled together.

Chen Yan lifted his chin toward the direction of the camp.

"Do you think He Lanhu now knows that the Iron Wolf Gang has been exposed?"

Hongye's voice was cool and brief.

"A Carrier Pigeon takes only a Half Hour Rest to fly from the valley here, if it has been raised in the valley."

Chen Yan's mouth twitched.

"That means he already knows."

He wrapped the reins once around his wrist and kicked the horse's belly with his boot heel.

"Move."

The black horse charged toward the Camp Gate.

At the sentry post before the Camp Gate, four soldiers wielding Long Spears stood; when they saw two fast horses charging, they immediately crossed their spears to block the road.

"Who comes? State your name!"

Chen Yan held the horse, looking down from his height at the four soldiers.

"Xiazhou General Command."

The leading soldier was a team leader in his thirties, his face bearing the swagger typical of a veteran, and he thrust the tip of his Long Spear forward another two inches.

"General Command? Do you have a military order document?"

Chen Yan pulled a Waist Badge from his chest and flashed it before the team leader.

The team leader lowered his head to glance at the characters on the Waist Badge; the arrogance on his face shattered in an instant, replaced by a terror that rose from his soles to the top of his head.

Six characters were engraved on the Waist Badge.

Senior Grand Preceptor Chen Yan.

The team leader's Long Spear slipped from his hand, clanged on the ground twice, his knee bent halfway, his mouth opened, but the words in his throat never left.

Chen Yan had already thrust his grip on the horse's belly and surged through the Camp Gate.

"Wait, wait! Grand Preceptor, please stay! Without a Dushui's military order, no one may enter the camp!"

The team leader shouted from behind, his voice a mix of terror and embarrassment.

Chen Yan didn't even turn his head.

When Hongye passed the team leader, the short sword's scabbard lightly clanged against his Shoulder Armor; the force was light, but the crisp metallic sound made the team leader swallow the latter half of his sentence.

The camp's reaction was faster than Chen Yan had expected.

Just fifty steps after his hooves entered the Camp Gate, dozens of fully armed personal guards burst from the Yingzhang on both sides, their Horizontal Blades and Long Spears flashing cold light in the sunset, forming a fan that blocked his horse's head.

A Brigade Commander clad in iron armor rushed to the front, his Horizontal Blade pointing at Chen Yan, his voice raised to a shrill pitch.

"Audacious! Trespassing the Dushui's main camp—do you think you have a long life!"

Chen Yan lowered his head on the horse and squinted at him.

"Step aside."

The Brigade Commander's Horizontal Blade thrust forward another two inches.

"I don't care who you are; without a Dushui's Token, even if you came as a Grand Preceptor today, you still have to wait here!"

Chen Yan's right hand drew the Horse Whip from his waist.

The tip of the whip cut a crisp whoosh through the air, striking precisely on the back of the Brigade Commander's hand that held the Horizontal Blade.

Skin split, flesh exposed.

The Horizontal Blade flew from his hand, the Brigade Commander staggered two steps from the whip's force, his left hand covering the rolled bloodstain on his hand's back, his mouth hanging open wide.

Chen Yan twirled the Horse Whip in his hand, his voice even.

"I told you to step aside, didn't you hear?"

At the same instant, Hongye's short sword sprang from its scabbard, its blade tracing an arc before the personal guards, cleaving the tips off the two foremost Long Spears at the roots; the iron spearheads clanged to the ground and bounced twice in the Mudi.

The guards' formation broke; some stepped back half a pace, others' hands began to tremble.

Chen Yan squeezed his grip on the horse's belly, and the black horse surged straight through the gap between the guards; its hooves produced a rapid muffled thud on the camp's muddy road as it charged toward the largest command tent at the camp's center.

He ripped the command tent's curtain down from the horse's back in one pull.

When he flipped off the horse, his boot sole left a deep imprint in the Mudi.

Inside the command tent, the lights shone brightly.

A towering veteran sat on a tiger‑skin chair, his left arm around a scantily clad concubine, his right hand holding a gilt wine cup, the amber liquid inside swaying.

In front of him lay a low table strewn with cold leftovers and charred food, scattered across it were several hastily opened letters, the Huojian fragments scattered over the surface.

He Lanhu.

In his sixties, his hair fully silvered and meticulously tied, his square face layered with horizontal flesh, high cheekbones, eyes not large but each radiating a cold ruthlessness forged by decades of battlefield combat.

When he saw Chen Yan burst in, the wine cup in his hand paused for a beat, but he did not set it down.

"Chen Zhuguo."

His voice was deep as if squeezed from a stone crevice at the bottom of his throat, unhurried.

"I thought you would send someone to convey a message, but I didn't expect you to come in person."

Chen Yan strode to the opposite side of the low table, stopped, and glanced at the few letters that had been hastily opened on its surface.

"It seems you already know."

He Lanhu released the left hand that had been holding his concubine, waved it aside, and the concubine lowered her head and slipped out through the side door of the command tent.

He lifted his wine cup to his lips, took a sip, and felt his Adam's apple roll as he swallowed.

"What do you know?"

Chen Yan's mouth twitched.

"The Iron Wolf Gang's lair was seized by the Duke, standard weapons of the Qi State were shipped out from your defense zone, and Xuelang's Confession bears your name, from the first stroke to the last, each stroke documented."

He lowered his voice to a whisper, as if chatting casually with an old friend.

"Dushui Helan, do you still intend to feign ignorance before the Duke?"

He Lanhu twirled his wine cup in his hand, his expression unchanged, his composure causing Chen Yan to glance at him twice more.

"Chen Zhuguo, I was following the Grand Preceptor on campaigns north and south when you were not yet born."

He set the wine cup onto the table, and its base produced a crisp clink.

"Do you think a bandit leader's Confession could topple me? You are making me far too simple."

His right hand slipped beneath the armrest of the tiger‑skin chair, and his finger pressed a hidden latch.

Outside the command tent, a rapid succession of footsteps and clanking armor rang out.

The tent curtain was drawn back, and a dozen or so armored trusted commanders streamed in, each brandishing a drawn Horizontal Blade, sealing the tent's entrance completely.

Immediately, more footsteps came from outside, and the tight creak of crossbow strings converged from all directions.

Chen Yan's peripheral glance caught the slit in the curtain; outside, at least a hundred Suicide Warriors wielding heavy crossbows had encircled the command tent in three inner and three outer layers.

He Lanhu rose, his height a full head taller than when seated, his massive frame clad in armor resembling a walking iron wall.

He pointed a finger at Chen Yan's nose and raised his voice.

"Chen Yan, you have trespassed into the Duke's main camp without orders, without documents, without notification; this is an act of rebellion!"

His gaze swept over the dozen knife‑wielding commanders inside, and his voice rose another three notches.

"Everyone can see it: this brat relies on the empty title of a Chen Zhuguo, disregards military law, tramples the rules; today I, on behalf of the Grand Preceptor, will teach him what the iron law of the army is!"

He swept his hand downward.

"Take him down!"

The dozen commanders shouted in unison, raising their Horizontal Blades overhead and pressing toward Chen Yan.

Chen Yan stood rooted, not moving a hair.

He didn't even reach for the Horizontal Blade at his waist.

Hongye stood half a step behind him, a short sword held horizontally before her, its blade reflecting the orange glow of the tent lights; her breathing quickened slightly, yet she did not move.

Chen Yan spoke.

His voice was low, but everyone inside the tent heard it clearly.

"He Lanhu, do you know why the Duke dared to come alone today?"

He Lanhu's hand remained raised, and the advancing commanders' steps faltered half a beat after the words landed.

Chen Yan drew a palm‑sized black‑iron Great Seal from his chest.

The tent's lights fell on the seal's surface, rendering every scale of the coiled dragon relief in sharp detail.

The front of the Great Seal bore nine seal characters.

"Senior Pillar of State, Imperial Administrator, holds the same rank as the Three Ministers."