Chapter 32 — The Frenzied Wolf Pack

*Twang* — without warning, an arrow came flying from the distance, aimed at Teng Xuanyi's right hand. His senses were razor-sharp, and he pulled his hand back in an instant, stepping slightly aside; then he turned his head toward where the arrow had come from. Teng Ningyue and the others beside him flew into a rage. Teng Ningyue bellowed, "Where does this gutless bird think he's shooting from? Sneaking arrows like a coward!"

"The hell we did!" A furious shout answered, and dozens of men burst from the forest, all clad in hides. At their head stood a burly fellow nearly eight chi tall, hair hanging loose and wild.

"Ah, so it's Wang Tou from Wang Family Village up north. What's the matter, Wang, saw us catch the snow marten and figured you'd try your hand?" Teng Ningyue sneered. The men on Teng Rongjun's side burst out laughing, and Teng Xuanzheng laughed the loudest of all. "Uncle, these petty bastards only dare shoot from the shadows and then fight us. What do they amount to?"

"Shut your mouth." The shaggy-haired giant roared. Beside him, a lean, wiry man in hides shouted angrily as well: "That snow marten — we found it first! It took us over an hour to drive it out of its den. The thing panicked and bolted every which way. You just got lucky and picked up what we lost."

Teng Xuanyi watched it all in silence.

Perhaps the Wang Family men truly had found the snow marten first, and they had certainly risked everything to catch it. But the snow marten was agile beyond measure and swift as the wind; catching it was no easy thing. The Wang men had failed to keep up, and it had fallen right into the hands of Teng Rongjun's people, who had caught the thing.

"That just means you're no good at it." Teng Ningyue stepped forward, eyes sharp as blades. "The snow marten is fast and it can run. If not for us, it would have been long gone."

"We're the ones who drove it out of its den, after all." The shaggy-haired giant fixed his stare on Teng Ningyue. "Leizi, you can't just swallow it whole."

"Wang Tou — Wang Chongpeng — you listen good." Teng Ningyue's voice was hard as iron. "Maybe you drove the snow marten out of its den, maybe not; I can't be bothered to find out. I know one thing: we saw this snow marten in these mountains, and our men caught it. So this snow marten is ours. You won't get so much as a single hair of it. Soft words or hard steel, bring whatever you like — the men of Teng Rongjun will meet it."

The men of the Teng clan eyed the other side, every one of them poised to strike.

At a moment like this, they could not afford to back down.

That was the law of this world.

What's mine is mine. Reach out to snatch it, and I'll cut off your hand. Dare to stake your life against me, and I'll collect that life.

The shaggy-haired giant, Wang Chongpeng, swept his gaze across the men of Teng Rongjun, then flicked a glance at the snow marten in Teng Xuanyi's hands. Only its hind leg was wounded; the pelt was all but flawless. A snow marten pelt this perfect was exceedingly rare — three thousand taels of silver at the very least, and perhaps more if they found the right buyer.

Three thousand taels of silver.

That was already worth killing for.

"Bows ready," came Teng Ningyue's voice.

At once, every good man of Teng Rongjun carrying a bow raised it, arrows nocked on the strings, ready to loose at any moment.

*Whoosh.* Many of the Wang Family hunters drew their bows as well, ready to shoot.

"Damn it all." Wang Chongpeng stared at the other side for a few moments, licked his lips, and swept those beastlike eyes over Teng Ningyue and his men. Then he laughed coldly. "Teng Ningyue, you're a hard one, I'll give you that. The mountains don't turn, but the waters do. I'll remember this day. Let's go!" Unwilling as he was, if it truly came to killing, Wang Chongpeng had no confidence at all of winning. He could only choose to take his men and leave.

Teng Ningyue and the others all laughed.

They watched Wang Chongpeng and his band vanish into the forest ahead, and the men of Teng Rongjun roared with laughter. Teng Ningyue clapped Teng Xuanyi on the shoulder in high delight. "Qingshan! Boy, you've done us a mighty service this time. That throwing knife of yours was well flung — haha! A snow marten, not a scratch on it, just a little wound on the leg. A pelt this unspoiled — four, maybe five thousand taels, I'd say." So saying, Teng Ningyue took the snow marten from Teng Xuanyi's hands and carefully tucked it into the pack on his back.

"With this one snow marten, things will be a good deal easier for Teng Rongjun," someone else put in.

Teng Xuanzheng threw an arm around Teng Xuanyi and grinned. "You're really something, kid. Two years I've been a hunter, and everything I've ever killed put together doesn't match this one snow marten of yours."

"Just luck," Teng Xuanyi said, grinning too.

They were still laughing among themselves when suddenly a dense clatter of footsteps came from ahead — and with it, wave upon wave of wolf howls. "Awoo—" "Awoo—" That frenzied howling turned every face in Teng Rongjun pale. In these mountains, they did not fear the fierce tiger or the blind bear; joining forces as a band, they dared do battle with any beast in the wilds.

But wolves — wolves they feared.

The more numerous the frenzied pack, the more terrible the wolves became.

"Archers inside, everyone else to the outer ring — ready!" Teng Ningyue's face had gone grim.

"Teng Ningyue!" A great shout came from the distance. The Wang Family band was racing toward them in frantic flight, every man running flat out, many of them streaked with blood. And their number had clearly shrunk greatly. Behind that fleeing crowd came the running wolves.

"Bastards!" Teng Ningyue roared.

"Sons of bitches!" several men of Teng Rongjun cursed. It was plain enough: the Wang Family men had run into a wolf pack, could not hold it off, and had come running their way — dragging them into the mess as well. From the Wang men's point of view, it was hard to blame them; at a moment that meant life or death, tying down the men of Teng Rongjun gave them a hope of surviving.

"Teng Ningyue, don't blow your top. We'd barely left when we ran into the pack. Even without us, you'd have met these wolves yourselves," the shaggy-haired Wang Chongpeng said hastily.

"Cut the crap — get ready," Teng Ningyue snapped.

Wang Chongpeng turned at once and bellowed, "Everyone ready! One more fight with these wolves!"

Teng Xuanyi looked around. Wolves were gathering on every side, more and more of them. Plainly the beasts sensed the threat and had not attacked at once, but were drawing their ring tight. "These wolves — every one of them stands a meter and a half at the shoulder. Beasts this strong will be far harder to deal with than the wolves I met in my last life." Teng Xuanyi kept a constant watch on every direction.

"Uncle." Teng Xuanzheng's voice was low. "There are too many wolves."

"A hundred and more at a glance, and we can't even see how many farther off." Teng Ningyue lowered his voice as well. "Remember — find the leader wolf. Kill the leader and awe the rest with your ferocity, and the pack will back off."

These men who lived at the foot of the great mountains all understood: a wolf pack was not the sort of creature to hurl itself to death against an enemy it knew to be strong. Wolves were cunning and clever. Kill the leader wolf at the outset, leave them without a commander, and then overawe the frenzied pack — and the pack would withdraw.

Wolves prowled on every side, many of them with blood still on their muzzles — plainly they had just been tearing at men. More and more of them gathered.

"How can there be this many wolves?" Teng Ningyue swallowed, sweat beading on his forehead, then shot a glare at Wang Chongpeng nearby.

"We only met a hundred or so wolves before. Nothing like this," Wang Chongpeng said, and he too sensed that something was badly wrong.