Too many female prisoners, a special forces soldier transmigrates and marries wildly.

Linglong Pavilion? Tang Clan? Lin Feng's heart sank.

If these two companies are truly involved, things will become even more complicated. Not only are they powerful, with roots both in and out of government, but they also act in unpredictable ways and will stop at nothing to achieve their goals.

"No matter who it is, we'll meet force with force and water with water," Lin Feng said.

At the top of a secluded corner tower in the rear garden of the garrison, a carrier pigeon with a thin bamboo tube tied to its leg shot off like a gray arrow, disappearing into the deep night sky and flying swiftly toward the direction of Shuofeng City.

"Commander," Han Tao pushed open the door and entered, "Old Chen's Tea Shop in the west of the city closed early tonight, but three carriages were seen going in and out of the back gate. The goods they were carrying were covered with tarpaulins, so we couldn't see what they were, but the wheel tracks were very deep. The carriages eventually entered the back gate of the official post station."

"Keep an eye on it and see where those goods end up, and whether they flowed out again from the official post station."

"Yes!" Han Tao replied, then added, "Around noon, a caravan of about twenty people entered the city through the south gate, carrying the banner of 'Jiangnan Su's Silk Shop.' The goods were inspected and found to be high-quality Jiangnan silk and tea, with complete travel permits. The leader was a middle-aged manager surnamed Su, who spoke with a Nanjing accent. Several of the shop assistants had calluses on their hands, indicating they were used to handling swords. They were at the South Market Inn, and our men are keeping an eye on them."

Su Ji Silk Shop in Jiangnan? Nanjing accent? Is it a coincidence, or... has that southern force finally surfaced?

Hurried footsteps sounded outside the study, and a guard urgently reported from outside the door: "Commander! Miss Bai from the West Courtyard urgently requests an audience!"

Bai Xiaohe? Lin Feng's heart tightened: "Let her in."

The door opened, and Bai Xiaohe slipped in: "Brother Lin, Miss Xie just received a letter with an arrow. It was shot into the courtyard from outside the wall with a crossbow and pinned to a pillar."

"An arrow-shaped letter?" Lin Feng suddenly stood up.

Bai Xiaohe took out a common military-issue crossbow from her bosom, with a small roll of plain silk tied to the shaft.

Lin Feng took it, untied the plain silk, and unfolded it. It contained only a few words, the handwriting neat yet delicate:

"A jade pendant, a key to the celestial palace. A dragon's eye holds its secrets; it is neither jade nor stone. A guest from the south, named 'Linglong,' seeks much more than just wealth. Three days later at midnight, behind the City God Temple, present a rubbing of the pendant in exchange for the safety of an old friend. No waiting after this time."

There was no signature.

Lin Feng stared at the words on the silk, his pupils slightly contracting. "A guest from the South, named 'Linglong'!" Indeed, it was the Linglong Pavilion of Jiangnan! They not only knew the jade pendant was related to the Xuanji Underground Palace and the Star Key Lock, but they even pointed out that "the dragon's eye holds the secret, neither jade nor stone!" This was more specific than Chen Laoshuan's speculation! They knew the key to the jade pendant lay in the dragon's eye!

Moreover, they claim that "what they seek is far more than just wealth," so what exactly do they want? More importantly, "to exchange for the safety of an old friend"—who are they holding hostage? Is it Yan Qing? Or someone else connected to the jade pendant and Xie Wanqing?

Lin Feng picked up his pen, quickly wrote a few lines on a piece of paper, then rolled it up and stuffed it into a small bamboo tube.

He walked to the window, pushed it open, and whistled several times, imitating the hooting of an owl, at varying lengths towards the night sky.

A moment later, a falcon swooped down from the night sky like a black lightning bolt, landing steadily on the windowsill, its sharp eyes fixed on Lin Feng. This was the gyrfalcon he and Yan Qing used together, named "Black Feather."

Lin Feng carefully tied the bamboo tube to Black Feather's leg and gently patted its head.

Black Feather let out a low, clear cry, flapped its wings, and instantly disappeared into the night sky to the northeast.

The darkness before dawn is as thick as ink.

A hundred miles northeast of Ironwall City lies Wild Fox Ridge. A scout team of about fifty Black Wolf Guards men traversed the forest. They were an outpost dispatched by Börte.

The leader of the small group was named Bayar, a seasoned veteran. His right hand was always resting on the hilt of his scimitar.

Last night, two smaller scout teams lost contact in this forest, neither alive nor dead, and they hadn't even managed to fire a warning arrow. This cast an ominous shadow over his heart.

"Pay attention! Watch your step and your head!"

Bayar lowered his voice and shouted to his men behind him in the Di Rong language, "There's something strange in this forest, it might be the Yan people's night scouts..."

Before he finished speaking, a very faint "crack" sound, like a pine cone falling, suddenly came from the top of a spruce tree to his side.

Bayar's expression changed drastically, and he shouted hoarsely, "Ambush! Scatter! Take cover..."

Before the word "body" could even be uttered, the sound of bowstrings twanging like thunder came from the treetops, snowdrifts, and behind rocks! Dozens of crossbow bolts, like a swarm of dead bees, rained down from different angles!

The arrows were cunning and ruthless, specifically targeting unarmored or weakly armored areas such as the face, throat, and heart! The distance was too close and the speed too fast; the Black Wolf Guards had no time to react!

"Puff puff puff puff—!"

The dull thud of an arrow piercing flesh and a short scream instantly shattered the silence of the forest!

At least twenty Black Wolf Guards were riddled with arrows in the first volley, their blood splattering onto the pristine snow in a horrifying sight.

The warhorses, startled, reared up with neighs, throwing their riders off their backs, or fled frantically with arrow wounds.

"Enemy attack! Form ranks! Form a circular formation!" Bayar roared, his eyes bloodshot, as he hid behind a large tree and parried a crossbow bolt aimed at his neck with his sword. The arrow grazed the blade, sending sparks flying.

The surviving thirty-odd Black Wolf Guards also hurriedly sought cover or held up makeshift leather shields, attempting to form a defensive formation.

However, the attackers gave them no chance to form ranks. The first volley of arrows had barely stopped when the second and third volleys followed in quick succession, with almost no pause in between!

The arrows seemed endless, shooting in from all directions, precisely reaping the lives exposed to the elements.

Even more terrifying, some arrows, upon striking the snow, burst into puffs of pungent, grayish-white smoke that quickly spread, obscuring vision and causing people to cough violently with tears streaming down their faces.

It's a poisoned smoke arrow! The scouts' specialty!

"Cough cough... It's Yan Gou's night scouts! Use poison smoke! Charge out! Head east!" Bayar covered his mouth and nose, his eyes red from the smoke, barely able to make out directions, and roared at his remaining men.

The remaining twenty or so Black Wolf Guards mustered their last courage, howling and brandishing their scimitars, and launched a desperate charge toward the eastern side where the smoke was relatively thin.

However, just as they broke out of the smoke, the snow beneath their feet suddenly collapsed! Seven or eight people screamed as they fell into a trap pit cleverly concealed by snow and filled with sharpened wooden stakes at the bottom! The screams were horrifying.

Traps! There are traps everywhere here!