Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

“Nice horses! That’ll make me a good fortune.” As Jiang Pengji’s eyes moved from the men to the twenty horses, she could not help but calculate their worth.

They had been selected from the horse breeding fields of the Meng’s––the only one of the four greatest houses with a military background––and thus possessed the largest horse breeding farms in Dongqing.

The convenient location of Cang as a commercial hub allowed the family to raise rare horses in the kingdom, such as those from the northern and southern tribes. After generations of hybrid and nurture, the quality of the production was now controlled at a high standard. The best were given to the major branch of the house and its army, while the remaining were sold in the market.

The royalty in Dongqing had been purchasing horses from the tribes at exorbitant prices. There was a time when the King learned about the Meng’s business and hinted at the family for their best horses in order to curtail national expenditure.

In the end, however, the King only received a mediocre group and the blatant excuse that the top must belong to the Meng’s and its soldiers. It incensed the King, who could do nothing but swallow the burning anger and fake an open-minded attitude towards the powerful house.

Jiang Pengji had not thought of the horses before, but as she was reminded of them, and was aware of them losing their current owners soon, she decided that the animals were now hers. Well, she always made good use of her resources. Complaints from losers would not be entertained.

The Meng’s team had sent three experienced men to find food and water, while the others took rest in the area.

“I’ve heard about outlaws in the region. Will the three get into trouble?” One of them was worried.

“Ha! We are from the Meng’s! There’s no way they can’t fight some little robbers. Besides, who will come to us for trouble? They know they’re no match to us.”

The answer instilled the soldier’s confidence. Even those in the other four kingdoms had heard about the courage and strength of the Meng’s Army. They were the ones who had defended Dongqing for decades so that the King could indulge himself in beautiful women dancing and singing.

“But of course, Leader is the best among us. Not even Meng Hun can be compared to him,” a soldier praised. As if hearing a cue, others immediately followed.

The leader took his time in enjoying the wave of compliments before he furrowed, pretended dismay, and scolded them sternly. “I told you to rest, not to gossip like ignorant women! It seems as though you don’t need a break at all. As for Meng Hun… Humph! Don’t compare that traitor to me.”

“Sorry, Leader. It’s our fault. Meng Hun is just a hypocritic failure,” said a soldier quickly. He had a face of an honest man, except that his eyes often rolled about as if he was constantly plotting against others. He was very adept at brown-nosing.

In the next second, his companion added, “Only the Count of Zhenbei is worth mentioning alongside of you. Still, they’ve just lost another war in the north again. If the general had been you, I’m certain the result would have been completely different.”

His words were like ice cubes in the summer: tremendously pleasant to the leader.

The group had spent fifteen minutes in the conversation without noticing that the three that were sent out had been away for far too long.

In fact, two of them never returned.

Experienced as they were, they found the closest water source only after Jiang Pengji had reached it and hid for her prey.

When the three approached, one of them exclaimed, “There really is water here! How did you know?”

“Shh. Let’s fill the water bags.” They were holding a number of leather-made containers, which would add considerable weight to their arms if they were all full.

As they bowed at the stream, Jiang Pengji steadily held up her bow, drew two arrows from her back, and bent the bow into a full moon.

Woosh! Woosh!

The weapons dashed into the brains of two men, passed through them, and dropped to the ground. The remaining man had been attentively filling the water bags before he noticed the scarlet rushing into the flow.

He turned to his partners, only to see the friends with whom he had been chatting with a moment ago were falling into the water. His eyes filled with disbelief.

Enemies! The word flashed through his mind. The water bags plunged into the soil, adding moisture to the pebbles.

The man grasped his blade and looked around in alarm. He had traced the origin of the arrows but could spot no one.

How many people were there? Where were they? The harder he attempted to find an answer, the more cold sweat he could feel on his back.

Yet, even after a long while, nothing happened. It was as if the arrows came from nowhere.

The soldier looked at the corpses, nervously tightened his lips, and then stumbled to run away.

Yiye Chengzhou: “Oh my god! Host, why did you just let him go?”

Gumiemie: “Host, you can’t be merciful to your enemies. He’s going to alert everyone else, and you alone can’t handle this.”

Muyu Qingfeng: “Oh my god! I wish I could believe that the host could do this with her tiny figure.”

The twelve-year-old body appeared like a rabbit to the seven-feet-tall guys. The contrast concerned the audience.

Jiang Pengji was not as worried. For sure, her target was more than two men, but she needed one to tell the story.