Chapter 167: The Settlement

"Going further up leads to Zhaizi Peak." Zhang Ming pointed toward a towering mountain with an altitude of over one thousand meters.

Qin Yang walked up for a closer look and could vaguely make out numerous stilted wooden buildings clustered together, indeed resembling a mountain village. Zhang Ming took the lead, explaining as they walked, "There are five major Miao villages here, distinguished by the surnames Wu, Long, Ma, Shi, and Liao. These are prominent surnames in this region, and the village chiefs are mostly figures of great prestige. I used to live in the Wu village. Conflicts occasionally broke out among these villages, though no lives were ever lost—just trouble stirred up by hot-headed young men. The five villages also interacted frequently. Oh, look, there are sounds of a fight ahead."

The two men hurried forward.

They saw two groups of people fighting. It was easy to tell them apart by their attire—one group in black and the other in white. Every one of them was a sturdy, physically powerful man with considerable strength. Seeing a dead deer nearby, they assumed the conflict had arisen over it. They were fighting bare-handed, trading blows, without using any weapons, and they seemed to be exercising some restraint. Even so, the fight was bloody. The group in white was clearly outnumbered, with only three men against six, and they were losing. In particular, one of them was pinned to the ground, being pummeled with fists and kicks by three opponents.

"Hey, Wu Zifang, you punk!" Zhang Ming shouted the moment he recognized the person on the ground. "Stop fighting, stop fighting!"

At that, the six men in black desisted. Their leader spat on the ground and demanded, "Wu Zifang, do you yield?"

"Pah, I don't!" Wu Zifang shouted stubbornly, lying on the ground with a bruised and battered face.

Enraged, the man in black stepped forward, raising his fist to give him a severe beating. However, Qin Yang moved a step ahead, caught the man's fist, and said, "A fight is a fight. Just carry the deer away with you. Why go this far?"

"Who are you?" The man felt a jolt of alarm inside. His own punch carried significant force, yet it was effortlessly caught by a single hand of this stranger, unable to be pulled back as if it were gripped by an iron vise. Seeing this, his companions rushed forward. With a flick of his wrist, Qin Yang instantly hurled the man into the air, then struck his chest with a single palm, sending him flying a good five or six meters. The man rolled several times on the ground but sustained no injuries.

"Don't fight!" Terrified, the man ordered his companions to halt, glared fiercely at Qin Yang, and fled.

By this time, Zhang Ming had stepped forward to help Wu Zifang up. "How did you end up fighting the people from the Ma village?"

"Ah, it's Mr. Zhang." Wu Zifang scratched his head, wiped his bleeding nose, and said, "We originally hunted a deer, but Ma Er-gou tried to forcefully snatch it. Of course I wouldn't let him, so we started fighting. If they hadn't outnumbered us, I would have beaten him to a pulp! Who is this big brother? He's so awesome—he sent Ma Er-gou flying with a single palm strike! Incredible!"

"This is my friend. Alright, you three clean yourselves up. We need to see your father," Zhang Ming said.

Wu Zifang dusted himself off, instructed the other two men to carry the deer, and led the two visitors toward the village. Along the way, he remained somewhat cautious of Qin Yang, occasionally chiming in to express extreme admiration for Qin Yang's fighting prowess. Upon spotting the divine wolf following behind Qin Yang, his envy grew even stronger. That beast was far superior to any hunting dogs he kept at home, and Wu Zifang had enough discernment to realize at a glance that the creature possessed high intelligence.

"How is your father? Has he been well lately?" Zhang Ming asked. "When I left, your father's chronic illness didn't flare up, did it?"

"It only acts up about once a month. Nothing too serious," Wu Zifang replied.

As they spoke, they suddenly heard one of the two companions let out a cautious whisper. Looking over simultaneously, they spotted a forest musk deer foraging in a nearby thicket. The creature was quite large, easily twice the size of common ones. The sight of it nearly made Wu Zifang's eyes pop out of his head. He hurriedly motioned for everyone to be quiet, crept slowly onto a boulder, and observed it closely.

"That's a forest musk deer. The musk it produces is of the absolute highest quality. Judging by its size, the musk gland must be extremely valuable, and this thing will do his father's condition a lot of good," Zhang Ming explained in a low voice.

Qin Yang nodded.

He watched as Wu Zifang retrieved an iron-tendon bow from one of his companions. The bow was over a meter long, pitch-black, and clearly possessed immense draw weight. Zhang Ming couldn't help smiling at the sight: "That's his father's prized possession. I never expected this kid to dare take it out. This iron-tendon bow was crafted by his ancestors using a piece of divine timber found deep in the mountains, and the metal fittings are also of the finest selection, making it exceptionally sturdy. But very few people can actually wield it; it's said to require a strength of ten stones. Even at the peak of his physical strength, his father could barely draw it halfway. This kid is far from capable of that."

Sure enough, the bowstring Wu Zifang pulled formed only a half-moon shape, and even that was done with great difficulty. Yet, even so, its potential power was formidable. However, the forest musk deer seemed to possess spiritual awareness; the instant the arrow left the string, it darted away and vanished. Wu Zifang cursed angrily, and his two companions rushed out like the wind. Seeing this, Qin Yang leaped lightly onto the boulder, took the longbow from Wu Zifang, and drew an arrow from the quiver. Without needing any thumb ring to protect his fingers, he effortlessly pulled the bow into a full moon.

Wu Zifang stood off to the side, dumbfounded.

With a sharp *whoosh*, the feathered arrow shot forth with blinding speed. At the same time, the divine wolf, which had been lazing lazily on the ground, darted out like a gale. They clearly saw the arrow pierce through a section of withered timber, followed immediately by the shriek of the forest musk deer. Within moments, the divine wolf dragged a forest musk deer back out. Strangely, however, there were no arrow wounds on the deer's body—it had been killed entirely by the wolf's bite.

"Did he miss?" Wu Zifang and Zhang Ming looked at each other in dismay. With a stance that domineering, missing the shot would be terribly embarrassing, wouldn't it?

A short while later, though, his two companions emerged carrying another forest musk deer. A feathered arrow was driven straight through its ear canal, piercing it entirely.

"Incredible!" Wu Zifang swallowed hard.

Qin Yang flexed his fingers and handed the iron-tendon bow back to Wu Zifang.

Stepping forward, Wu Zifang sliced out the musk gland from the navels of the two deer, gave a thumbs up, and said, "Brother Qin, I yield to you! These forest musk deer are extremely clever and know to bite their own musk glands to ruin them the moment they die. I never expected your arrow to leave it with even a chance to dodge. And this hunting dog of yours—my goodness, the deer probably didn't even have time to react!"

"Consider it a welcome gift," Qin Yang smiled.

Wu Zifang and his companions grinned broadly, entirely unbothered by their bruised and terrifying-looking faces.

With a bountiful harvest, they made their way back to the village just as dusk was falling. Upon seeing the battered state of their sons, the family members hurriedly pulled them aside for treatment. Wu Zifang, carrying the deer and the musk deer, led the two men to a relatively large residence, placed the game aside, and called out, "Dad, Mr. Zhang is here."

At that moment, a man in his fifties walked out from the house. He was dressed in a loose white tunic, strongly built, though somewhat lean. Seeing his son injured after a fight, he gave him a swift kick and scolded, "Useless wretch."

Wu Zifang chuckled bitterly. "Three of us beat up six of theirs—I didn't disgrace you, Dad! These are two musk glands from forest musk deer, hunted by Mr. Zhang's friend. His friend is truly amazing; he pulled our iron-tendon bow to a full moon effortlessly, and his archery is like that of a divine being!"

The village chief of the Wu clan glared at his son before leading Qin Yang and Zhang Ming into the house. After taking a seat, he said, "Mr. Zhang, it's not very neighborly of you to stay away from my place for so long without dropping by for a visit."

"Not at all, not at all. I've been tied up with mundane affairs," Zhang Ming laughed apologetically. "I've come today because I have a favor to ask."

"What is it?" The village chief waved a hand and said, "Speak. If it's within my power to help, I will."

"To be frank with you, my younger brother here has a girlfriend who has been afflicted with a wicked sorcery poison. We've come this time to ask for your assistance."

"What?" Upon hearing this, the village chief's expression changed drastically, and he cursed angrily, "Those damned bastards!"