It was late at night when Ling Chengyan suddenly awoke, eyes wide open. The wind had started, sweeping over the grasslands with a mix of grassy fragrance and, more dominantly, the sll of earth and dust.
Around the soldier station, many trees had been planted: birch, apricot, and crabapple. The wind howled through the branches, bringing with it a sharp whistling sound, partially veiling the dust.
The small huts of the soldier station stood firm in the strong wind, anchored to the ground like stones. Because of their low height, they were less likely to be blown away.
The wind was brief; after it passed, there was silence for a few minutes, maybe just seconds, but with a sense of impending pressure. Then, the rain ca.
The sound of rain approached from afar, finally drumming on the tile roof of the soldier station, creating a dense pattering. The raindrops were large, the rain was astounding.
Ling Chengyan got up, went to the window, and drew the curtains to look out into the silent night. The rain and wind were invisible, but their sound made Ling Chengyan silently vigilant. With such mixed noise, discerning targets in the darkness beca more challenging.
But then a thought crossed Ling Chengyan’s mind, bringing a glimr of hope: with the rain washing away slls, perhaps the wolf pack wouldn’t find their way to the soldier station.
Unfortunately, hope is beautiful, but often defeated by reality.
Before the storm approached, countless natural hunters had already hidden in the protective woods behind the soldier station. Though lacking human intelligence, they excelled in team cooperation and strategic formation. They refrained from charging in rashly when the station had lights on, choosing instead to lurk quietly, waiting for the right mont.
The rain washed away scents, but more importantly, it masked sounds, including the already light footsteps and breaths.
By the ti Ling Chengyan sensed sothing, the leading three wolves had already reached the station’s stables—Daquan was holding ’Little Dog’ in the guard room by the stables, and Little Dog’s animal instincts were more sensitive than humans’, whining and squirming to break free from Daquan’s embrace.
When Ling Chengyan realized, two of the wolves had already slipped through the wooden fence of the stables, opening their mouths to bite a horse.
Chaos erupted in the stables, with the horses’ pained wails and the panic-stricken screams of others...
Daquan put down Little Dog, opened the door to check the stables, but soone rushed in ahead and pushed him back inside, slamming the door shut.
People hid inside, behind sturdy doors and windows, leaving the wolf pack helpless. But if humans ca out to investigate the attack on the horses, they would fall right into the wolves’ trap.
Ling Chengyan smiled at the corner of her mouth: What a ploy to lure the snake out of its hole.
She darted into the stables. Despite her sharp eyesight, she couldn’t see clearly in the dark but was t with a thick stench of blood and the low, dying wails of struggling horses.
Judging from the sound, it seed to be Daquan’s horse, the one with Little Dog’s scent.
Ling Chengyan stood still in front of the stable for two breaths—one, two!
Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, revealing the silhouettes of the horses in the stable and the three wolves on the horses. One was trying to leap up to bite a horse’s neck but only reaching the shoulders due to height. Another was at the horse’s belly, and one had circled to the horse’s hindquarters...
The intense stench of blood revealed the horse’s dire condition, heavily wounded, unable to escape due to its tether.
Ling Chengyan, a horse lover, was unable to suppress the rising anger at the sight, unconsciously using more force than planned.
With a kick, she sent the wolf biting the horse’s neck flying. She turned, grabbed the wolf at the horse’s belly by the scruff, punching its head a few tis until even the toughest wolf was knocked out. Ling Chengyan flung it far away. Though not missing pieces, the wolf was beaten badly and would be unable to hunt for a month.
The last wolf, before Ling Chengyan could shift targets, launched its attack with a sll of blood, pouncing towards her—the one that had hard the horse the most.
Ling Chengyan dodged its pounce, spun her hand to grip its throat fur, pinning the wolf’s head to the ground, then kicked it down, pumling with her fist.
In just minutes, the third wolf was half dead from Ling Chengyan’s blows, motionless on the ground.
With a foot on the wolf, Ling Chengyan called out to Daquan, who had co out of the guard room: "Bring your Little Dog over."
The rain continued, the wind showed no sign of abating, and everyone in the room got up, wanting to rush over but were stopped by Squad Leader Liu, including Zhang Wanxiang, ard with a weapon.
Ling Chengyan grasped Little Dog’s neck under the eaves of the stables, holding the plump little thing with one hand, her other hand appearing casually attentive to the hidden movents in the rainy night.
The two wolves she flung away had retreated, or perhaps been dragged off, leaving only the wolf pinned beneath her foot and the squealing little furball in her hand.
With Ling Chengyan’s permission, Daquan entered the stable to tend to the bitten horse’s wounds.
Coincidentally, the storm perhaps disrupted the power lines again, causing another outage, forcing Daquan to light a gas lamp, hanging it in the stable, emitting a sizzle and a faint stench.
Ling Chengyan paid no heed to this, focusing only on the dark night’s movents.
It felt like a long ti passed, or maybe just a mont, before three wolves erged slowly from the night rain. The middle one was tall and mighty. Despite being drenched, its strong fra was notably larger than the others.
Ling Chengyan raised an eyebrow: Had the Wolf King co in person?
Her hand paused in ruffling the furball, her eyes revealing traces of contemplation.
The three wolves, though visible, remained cautious, revealing only half their forms, halting their steps. They stared silently across the wind and rain toward Ling Chengyan, or perhaps at the furball in her hand?!
Ling Chengyan, however, moved.
Swiftly and decisively, she kicked the wolf underfoot, sending it flying to land in front of the lead wolf.
She silently extended her hand, palm up, showing the small furball. It squeaked, oblivious to the tense stand-off, driven by its animal instincts to fear wind and rain, and feel insecurity. Ignoring the fuss for its sake, it crawled slowly up Ling Chengyan’s arm, seeking the safety it yearned for.
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