22: Chapter 22 The Shadow of Black Mountain

In the side room of the ancestral hall, the oil lamp flickered like a bean.

The flame swayed slightly in the lamp, casting the shadows of the four men onto the mud wall, stretching them long and short.

The night outside the window was thick and impenetrable, with the occasional chirp of insects making the room feel even quieter.

Han Meng sat on the straw mat with his back against the mud wall, his face flickering in the light of the fire.

He clasped his hands together until his knuckles turned white. His throat felt constricted, and it was a long moment before he could squeeze the words through his teeth:

"Thirty percent of Boss Wu's annual plunder must be handed over to the Black Mountain Liu Family."

Lu Zhao sat opposite him with a calm expression, though a cold glint flashed deep in his eyes.

He Shan stood by the door, his hunting knife leaning against the corner of the wall. Yan Meng stood by the window with his arms crossed, his gaze like a torch, staring fixedly at Han Meng.

"Thirty percent?" He Shan's voice was low. "The Funiu Gang has entrenched itself on the outskirts of Black Mountain for years, looting countless caravans, Loose Cultivators, and villages. Thirty percent... how much would that be?"

Han Meng smiled bitterly. "I don't know the exact amount. Boss Wu only lets his confidants handle this matter. At the end of every autumn, the Liu Family sends a steward into the mountains to 'collect accounts.' I've seen it twice; both times it was a steward from the Liu Family's outer courtyard, surnamed Liu, third in rank, known as Liu Three-Knives."

Liu Three-Knives.

Lu Zhao had heard that name—the arrogant and domineering Liu Family steward at the village entrance a few days ago was indeed that man.

"Continue," Lu Zhao said.

Han Meng took a deep breath. "Half a month ago, Liu Three-Knives entered the mountains privately and had a secret discussion with Boss Wu for half an hour. I happened to be on duty guarding outside the cave and vaguely heard a few sentences..."

He paused, lowering his voice even further.

"Liu Three-Knives said that Yangjiao Ravine had been 'unsettled' lately and told Boss Wu to 'test the waters.' When Boss Wu asked how to do that, Liu Three-Knives sneered: 'There are many wild beasts in the mountains; it's not strange for a person or two to die. If you actually find something, I'll credit you with a great achievement and cut next year's tribute in half.'"

"Bullshit!" Yan Meng slammed his fist into the mud wall, shaking loose a shower of dust. "Those animals!"

He Shan pressed down on his shoulder, but his gaze shifted to Lu Zhao. "Sir, it seems that the Funiu Gang's attack on the village was directed by the Liu Family all along. They weren't trying to plunder; they were using a borrowed knife to kill!"

Lu Zhao remained silent.

He stood up and walked to the window, pushing open one of the wooden shutters. The night wind rushed in, carrying the damp, chilly air unique to the mountains.

In the distance, toward Black Mountain City, sporadic lights were vaguely visible, like the eyes of a dormant giant beast.

"Why is the Liu Family targeting Yangjiao Ravine?" He stood with his back to the others, his voice so calm it betrayed no emotion.

Han Meng shook his head. "I don't know the specific reason. But after Liu Three-Knives left that day, Boss Wu sat alone for a long time, muttering to himself..."

He imitated Boss Wu's hoarse, raspy voice:

"Is a broken village really worth such plotting? Could it be that, just as the rumors say, underneath it all..."

He stopped abruptly there.

Lu Zhao turned around abruptly. "Underneath what?"

"Boss Wu didn't finish," Han Meng said. "But there was both greed and fear in his eyes at that moment."

The ancestral hall fell into a dead silence.

The oil lamp crackled, popping as the flame suddenly jumped.

Lu Zhao slowly walked back to the straw mat and sat cross-legged. He reached out and adjusted the lamp wick, stabilizing the flame, which illuminated the sharp contours of his profile.

"How many days are left in the deadline given by Liu Three-Knives?" he asked.

Han Meng thought for a moment. "He said 'within half a month.' Counting from today... there are three days left."

Three days.

He Shan and Yan Meng exchanged a glance, both seeing the gravity in the other's eyes.

"Sir," He Shan said in a deep voice, "although the Funiu Gang has been destroyed, the Liu Family doesn't know the details. If Liu Three-Knives doesn't see Boss Wu return with a report in three days, he will surely grow suspicious. When he comes in person with the Liu Family's private soldiers to investigate..."

"We can't stop them," Yan Meng interjected, his voice bitter. "The Liu Family has fifty private soldiers, all armored and armed, and they have Liu Zhenxiong, a fourth-level Qi Refining Cultivator, leading them. Although we have over twenty young men in the village, we lack weapons and training. In a head-on fight, we have no chance of winning."

Han Meng suddenly said, "Perhaps... we could temporarily hide."

The three men looked at him.

"Deep in the mountains, there is a hidden valley I discovered when I was on the run," Han Meng said. "The entrance is concealed, and inside there are streams and wild fruits. It can accommodate a hundred people for over a month. If we withdraw under the cover of night, the Liu Family might not be able to find us."

"No," Lu Zhao shook his head.

His voice was not loud, but it was firm and decisive.

"If we leave, this village will be gone." He looked up at the three men. "Since the Liu Family is already suspicious, they won't let this go. If we flee, they will surely burn our houses and destroy our fields, severing our Foundation. Even if we manage to hide for a while, how would we survive?"

He paused.

"Moreover, since the Liu Family dominates Black Mountain, searching the mountains for us won't be difficult. We are dragging our families along, with many elderly, weak, women, and children. How could we hide in the mountains? How would we deal with venomous insects and wild beasts? How would we provide for our basic needs?"

These three questions left Han Meng speechless.

He Shan frowned. "Then what do you propose, Sir?"

"Fortify," Lu Zhao said.

He stood up and walked to the wall, where a crude sheepskin map hung. It was a map of Yangjiao Ravine and the surrounding terrain, drawn by Master Wen based on the descriptions of the village elders.

Lu Zhao pointed to the location of the village in the center of the map.

"We cannot flee, nor can we sit here and wait for death," he said in a calm, steady voice. "Before the Liu Family arrives, we must turn Yangjiao Ravine into an iron hedgehog they cannot chew through."

Yan Meng's eyes lit up. "How do we build that?"

Lu Zhao didn't answer, but asked instead, "Han Meng, you mentioned earlier that when Liu Three-Knives and Boss Wu were talking in secret, they mentioned 'underneath.' Do you know if there is anything special about Yangjiao Ravine?"

Han Meng shook his head blankly.

He Shan, however, suddenly spoke up. "I have heard some rumors."

The three men looked at him.

He Shan rubbed his chin and pondered. "My ancestors were hunters in Black Mountain for three generations. I once heard my grandfather mention that a hundred years ago, this place wasn't called Yangjiao Ravine; it was called 'Crouching Dragon Hollow.' They said this place had earth-vein Dragon Qi and had even produced Cultivators. Later, for some reason, the Dragon Qi dissipated, and the village fell into decline."

Earth-vein Dragon Qi?

Lu Zhao's heart stirred.

He thought of the Yin Fiend Crystal in the cave, the Martial Stele fragments sealed within it, and the massive amount of earth-vein Yin Qi he had encountered when sealing the Fiend Spirit...

"Anything else?" he pressed.

He Shan shook his head. "It was all just idle chatter from the elders after they'd had a drink; it can't be taken as truth. However, my grandfather did say that the water level in the old well behind the village hasn't dropped in a hundred years, and it doesn't dry up even in the dry season. Perhaps there's something to it."

Lu Zhao was lost in thought.

A moment later, he looked up. "Yan Meng, what weapons do we currently have in the village? How many bows and crossbows? How many arrows?"

Yan Meng reeled off the list. "Seven spears, twelve hunting knives, and over twenty wood-chopping knives and axes. We only have two hunting bows—mine and He Shan's—and fewer than a hundred arrows. Besides that, we have some sharpened wooden spears that we can use for the time being."

"Not enough," Lu Zhao shook his head. "Far from enough."

He looked at Zhong Tiegu. "Uncle Zhong, can the forge still be used?"

"It can," He Shan said. "But we lack iron. The village only has some old, discarded farm tools; even if we melt them down, we won't be able to make many weapons."

Lu Zhao pondered.

Just then, the depths of his spiritual platform suddenly shook.

It wasn't the Martial Seal stone, but the [heart of the martial ancestor]—that pulsation, which had been silent since it was bound, like a resonance of the Bloodline, was now quietly awakening.

In a moment of sudden inspiration, a message flooded into his mind:

[Detected weak aggregation of the fire of civilization; survival crisis approaching. Granting "heart of the martial ancestor" Elementary permission: Can consume 'Civilization Points' to deduce and optimize martial arts and assist in survival and construction.]

[Current Civilization Points: 27 (Source: Initial allegiance of ten households, defeat of the Funiu Gang)]

[Optional deduction directions:]

[1. Basic Battle Formation Chart (Requires 15 points) — Fuses military formation principles with martial arts coordination; can significantly increase group combat power.]

[2. Simple Fortification Construction Method (Requires 10 points) — Utilizes terrain and existing Materials to quickly construct effective defenses.]

[3. Crude Iron Tempering Essentials (Requires 8 points) — Improves the quality of ordinary iron and enhances weapon durability.]

Lu Zhao's pupils constricted slightly.

The response came abruptly, yet it was perfectly timed. His thoughts raced, and he made a decision in an instant.

"He Shan, go invite Uncle Zhong, Old Mo, and Master Wen to the ancestral hall. Yan Meng, go gather all the young men in the village. Bring your tools and assemble in front of the ancestral hall."

The two men agreed in unison and turned to leave.

Han Meng struggled to rise. "Sir, I..."

"Your injuries haven't healed; rest for now," Lu Zhao said, pressing him back down. "But there is one thing I need your help with."

"Please, Sir, tell me."

Lu Zhao stared into his eyes. "Do you know the Liu Family private soldiers' formation habits, common tactics, and their strengths and weaknesses?"

Han Meng was stunned for a moment, then nodded. "I know a bit. The Liu Family private soldiers are divided into three units: the first unit of sword-and-shield soldiers in the front, the second unit of spearmen in the middle, and the third unit of crossbowmen in the rear. They like to use a wedge formation when charging and a circular formation when defending. The sword-and-shield soldiers are the most valiant, the spearmen's coordination is lacking, and the crossbowmen's accuracy is average, but they have plenty of arrows."

"Good," Lu Zhao nodded. "Later, when we discuss this, you will explain it to everyone in detail."

Han Meng nodded heavily.

Before long, people had gathered inside and outside the ancestral hall.

Zhong Tiegu carried his blacksmith's hammer, his hands still stained with coal dust. Old Mo leaned on a crooked wooden staff, his eyes clouded, yet a faint glint of sharpness flashed within them. Master Wen held paper and pen, his expression solemn.

On the open ground in front of the ancestral hall, over twenty young men stood in formation. These men were mostly farmers and hunters, their skin dark and their palms rough. Although they looked worried, not a single one retreated.

Lu Zhao walked out of the ancestral hall and stood on the steps.

The morning light was just appearing, and the eastern sky was turning a pale, fish-belly white. A thin mist shrouded the village, and the outlines of the distant mountains were faintly visible.

His gaze swept over the crowd, and he spoke slowly:

"Fellow villagers, our Yangjiao Ravine is facing a disaster."

This single sentence made everyone's expression tighten.

Lu Zhao continued: "Although the Funiu Gang has been destroyed, the Black Mountain Liu Family, who directed them, will come to hold us accountable in three days. The Liu Family has fifty private soldiers, armored and armed, and they have a Cultivator leading them. With our current strength, a head-on confrontation would mean certain death."

A commotion rippled through the crowd.

Some young men clenched their fists, their eyes bloodshot. Some elders shook their heads and sighed, their faces filled with despair.

"But—" Lu Zhao's voice suddenly rose, "we are not without a way to survive!"

He walked down the steps to the center of the open ground, picked up a branch, and began to draw on the ground.

"The Liu Family wants to come, so let them come." The branch traced through the dirt, outlining the contours of the village. "But along the way, we must set tripwires, dig pits, and set up arrays of bamboo spikes."

He pointed heavily at the village entrance.

"The wooden wall at the village entrance is too low; it must be heightened, and we must build watchtowers. We must prepare rolling logs and boulders on the walls, and set up stoves to boil water and oil."

The branch moved into the village.

"We must open hidden passages between the houses and set up ambush points. The alleys must be narrow so that the Liu Family's troops cannot deploy their formation."

He dropped the branch and looked up at the crowd.

"In these three days, what we must do is not wait for death, nor flee for our lives," his voice was steady and powerful. "We must build this Yangjiao Ravine into an iron hedgehog that will break the Liu Family's teeth!"

In the crowd, someone shouted, "Fuck them!"

The crowd was instantly incensed.

"Right! Let's fight them!"

"We've lived here for generations! Why should we let them wipe us out just because they say so?"

"Mr. Lu, tell us what to do, and we'll listen to you!"

Lu Zhao raised his hand, gesturing for calm, and the crowd gradually quieted down.

He turned to look at Zhong Tiegu. "Uncle Zhong, if the forge runs day and night, how many spearheads can you forge?"

Zhong Tiegu made a quick calculation. "If we melt down all the scrap iron and work day and night, in three days... we can forge thirty spearheads."

"Not enough," Lu Zhao said. "Sharpen wooden poles and fit them with iron heads to make spears. Also, forge some hook-sickles and iron caltrops."

He looked at Old Mo again. "Old Mo, you are skilled in clever craftsmanship. Can you design some simple mechanisms? Like trigger-based crossbows or tripwire alarms?"

Old Mo's cloudy eyes rolled, and he nodded slowly. "I can try. But the Materials..."

"Use whatever we have in the village," Lu Zhao said. "Bamboo, animal tendons, hemp rope, wooden springs—anything will do."

Finally, he looked at Master Wen. "Master Wen, please organize a list of the elderly, weak, women, and children in the village and arrange for them to be moved to the Mountain God Temple at Wild Wolf Slope behind the mountain. Make sure to prepare enough food, drinking water, and bedding."

Master Wen nodded solemnly. "I understand."

Lu Zhao took a deep breath, his gaze returning to the map.

The branch drew one last mark on the ground—a secret path winding from the village entrance to the back mountain.

"We must also clear this retreat route," he said softly. "In case things go wrong... we'll still have a way out."

Despite saying that, there was not a hint of retreat in his eyes.

He Shan suddenly stepped forward. "Sir, we have never done any of the things you just mentioned. I'm afraid we won't be able to do them well."

Lu Zhao smiled.

He reached into his robes—not to retrieve anything, but to use the motion to conceal the response in his spiritual platform.

With a thought, 15 Civilization Points were quietly consumed.

[Exchange successful: Basic Battle Formation Chart (Incomplete) infused.]

In an instant, a vast amount of knowledge regarding military formation coordination, terrain utilization, and simple fortification construction flooded into his mind. Though incomplete, it was sufficient to handle the current situation.

"No matter," Lu Zhao said calmly. "I will teach you."

He squatted down, using the branch as a pen and the soil as paper, and began to explain in detail:

"How deep and wide the pits should be, how to arrange the bamboo spikes at the bottom, and how to camouflage the surface..."

"Where to set the tripwires, what Materials to use, and how to trigger them..."

"Where to source rolling logs and boulders, how to secure them, and when to release them..."

Every word and every detail was clear and concise, as if he had known it by heart for a long time.

Everyone listened, stunned.

He Shan muttered, "Sir, how... how do you know all this?"

The branch in Lu Zhao's hand paused.

He looked up at the brightening eastern sky, remained silent for a moment, and said softly,

"Some things are carried in the Bloodline."

The morning light finally pierced through the clouds and spilled over the village.

In front of the ancestral hall, over twenty men straightened their backs, flames of resolve rekindled in their eyes.

Lu Zhao stood up and brushed the dust from his hands.

"Everyone," his voice was not loud, but every word rang out with strength. "Three days from now, the Liu Family's iron hooves will arrive. When that time comes, we will let everyone within three hundred miles of Black Mountain know—"

He paused.

"The people of Yangjiao Ravine stand with their knees straight."

The men acknowledged the order and dispersed to begin their tasks. Lu Zhao sat alone in the ancestral hall, spreading out the sheepskin map and using a charcoal pencil to sketch out the defensive arrangements.

Halfway through, he suddenly felt a slight heat in his palm. He looked down and saw that, at some point, a pale golden, ancient mark had appeared on his palm, shaped like a miniature stone tablet.

The mark flickered slightly, and the message from the [heart of the martial ancestor] echoed in his mind: [The fire of civilization has been tempered by crisis; Elementary permission stabilized. Real-time viewing of 'Civilization Points' unlocked. First deduction opportunity granted: Please select an urgent ability to deduce and optimize.]