"Young man, fish aren't caught like that. You'll scare them all away. They won't come back this year," an old fisherman couldn't help but say to Zhou Fugui, as a group of soldiers from the White Tiger Camp were fishing below Xianmiao Mountain, busy as they were, yet catching very little.
Below Xianmiao Mountain lived a small population of about twenty to thirty households, primarily of the Sushen tribe. They lived in near isolation, surviving on fishing and hunting, a life akin to a paradise. The sudden arrival of nearly a thousand soldiers had caused them considerable alarm. However, these soldiers proved to be rather friendly, not disturbing them excessively, nor engaging in any acts of arson, looting, or plunder. When they ran out of food, they found their own solutions, which eased the fears of these twenty to thirty households.
"Oh? Please, elder, how does one fish here?" Zhou Fugui, who was personally leading the fishing efforts, had been busy for half a day without catching many fish and was quite exhausted himself. He waved off Xu Mancang and the others from their fruitless endeavors and approached the old fisherman.
"Heh heh, so many people need to eat, you'll have to catch a lot of fish..." Zhou Fugui was amiable and approachable, which made the elder fisherman of the Sushen tribe, stroking his sparse, white beard, chuckle. "First, you need a fishing ground, and then you need to drive the fish."
"A small token, it's not much..." Zhou Fugui pulled out a silver corner and slipped it into the old fisherman's hand with a smile. "We are newcomers here, and we've bothered you. We hope you can offer us some guidance."
In this world, gold and silver are hard currency everywhere. The old fisherman happily accepted the silver corner and asked, "Young man, where do you people come from? And how did you end up here?"
"This..." The old fisherman's question caught Zhou Fugui off guard, and he didn't know how to answer.
If he said they were Yan soldiers, they currently bore no resemblance to any Yan soldiers. Clad in deerskin and iron armor, they looked more like barbarians. If he said they were Xiongnu soldiers, that would be even more inappropriate, as Zhou Fugui and his troops had recently fought fiercely with the Xiongnu.
"Alas, to be honest, elder..." Zhou Fugui sighed after some thought. "We are people of Yan. As for why we are here, I'm not entirely sure myself..."
"People of Yan? Yan is a great nation," the old fisherman said with a smile. "Driving fish, or rather, herding fish, involves using sound to drive them. You strike the boat or a plank to make noise and herd the fish together, then surround and hunt them."
Seeing Zhou Fugui's bewildered look, the old fisherman explained, "The 'striking' refers to hitting the boat or a plank. The sound drives the fish. Once they gather, you surround and hunt them."
"Are you a Han person, elder?" Zhou Fugui asked in surprise. "Aren't the people here... Sushen?"
Such refined language was beyond the capabilities of most barbarians.
"Are you also a Han person, young man?" the old fisherman replied with a smile. "My family and I came to this place a long time ago. It's been several generations. Not all the people here are Sushen; there are people from various tribes. We gather here simply to withstand the harsh cold, to ward off wild beasts, and to rely on each other for survival. Thus, we no longer distinguish ourselves by tribe."
"Oh, I see," Zhou Fugui nodded. "Then please, elder, instruct us on how to fish. I, Zhou, am deeply grateful."
"You're a general, aren't you, young man?" the old fisherman said, picking up the silver corner with a smile. "Since you're a Han general, surely you understand that money makes the world go 'round? Do you still need to catch fish yourself?"
Zhou Fugui nodded, but inwardly he felt ashamed.
Zhou Fugui was indeed a general, but to this day, his official title in the Great Yan was still a "piddling general."
"With the help of elders like you, we won't have to worry about food and drink," Zhou Fugui continued. "However, there is a difficult matter at present that I hope you, elder, can resolve for me."
"Please speak, General," the old fisherman nodded.
"Where does the salt you eat come from?" Zhou Fugui asked.
Other daily necessities could be managed somehow, but the lack of salt was extremely serious. Symptoms could include dizziness, blurred vision, weakness, and even death. Zhou Fugui was well aware of these basic facts.
"Heh heh, we live off the mountains and the waters..." the old fisherman chuckled and pointed to Xianmiao Mountain. "Beyond this mountain lies the sea, and there are salt fields by the sea. However, we elders always take a detour, trading wild game for salt and other necessities at the seaside. This journey takes over half a year, and that's if everything goes smoothly. If there are complications, it takes even longer."
"Why is that?" Zhou Fugui asked, greatly puzzled. He glanced at the snow-capped peaks of Xianmiao Mountain. "Why don't you cross the mountains instead of taking a detour? Is this mountain impassable?"
Half a year or more without salt – wouldn't Zhou Fugui and his men have died of salt deficiency long ago? Or at least fallen ill. In this foreign land, a serious illness was almost equivalent to death.
Having been driven into the deep mountains and forests by the Xiongnu, Zhou Fugui had prepared for a prolonged standoff with the Xiongnu in Xianmiao Mountain. To engage in such a protracted engagement, essential supplies would be needed.
When the Xiongnu grew tired and relaxed their vigilance, Zhou Fugui planned to lead his troops south to escape back to Yan.
"General..." the old fisherman replied. "However steep this mountain may be, it's not difficult for us who have lived here for a long time. The reason we cannot cross it is that there is a sacred place in the mountains called the Dragon's Roar Sacred Ground. Ordinary mortals cannot approach it."
"Dragon's Roar Sacred Ground?" Zhou Fugui mused.
Could it be like the Netherworld Valley? Zhou Fugui thought to himself.
Whatever it was, sacred ground or a dragon's den, for the sake of survival, he would have to venture in. Zhou Fugui then looked into the distance at the knife-sharp ice peaks, tightened his belt, and thought to himself.
Since arriving in this world, Zhou Fugui had been in constant danger. He had long grown accustomed to it.
...
"Hoo... hoo... hoo..."
The weather in the northern country could change in an instant. One moment it was a bright, sunny day, and the next, a piercing north wind howled. Amidst the howling wind, five tall figures and one slender figure, riding on horseback, were struggling through Xianmiao Mountain. All six were exhausted, their breath and that of their horses forming clouds of snowy mist.
Heavy snow fell, landing on the fur hat of the tall man leading the group, and on his deerskin clothing. Due to the extreme cold, the snowflakes couldn't melt, making the man appear as if he were wrapped in a thick layer of pure white cotton. Snowflakes caked his eyebrows and beard, making him look like an old man with gray hair. However, his exposed cheeks and bright eyes revealed that he was only in his early twenties.
"Dingdang, how much further?" the tall man, who was none other than Zhou Fugui, the Deputy General of the Great Yan and commander of the White Tiger Camp, asked the slender figure.
The slender figure was the granddaughter of the old fisherman, named Dingdang, only fifteen years old. Despite her young age, she was exceptionally familiar with the paths of Xianmiao Mountain. This was because her father was a hunter, and she had hunted in the mountains with him since childhood. Her grandfather and father had agreed to let her accompany them only after Zhou Fugui had paid them handsomely.
The old fisherman and the twenty to thirty households had some food and salt and other daily necessities, but this was far from enough for the nearly one thousand soldiers of the White Tiger Camp. Therefore, for the sake of survival, Zhou Fugui planned to traverse Xianmiao Mountain to find food, salt, and other necessities.
Another reason for Zhou Fugui's plan to cross Xianmiao Mountain was to scout for an alternative exit route, enabling him to lead his troops to escape the Xiongnu blockade and flee.
Zhou Fugui personally led this expedition because, much like his solo venture into Xiongling, his wilderness survival skills were unmatched within the White Tiger Camp.
Such an expedition into the mountains could not involve too many people, so Zhou Fugui had only brought Xue Wentai, Yelihu, and two others.
Five strong men would be enough to go to the seaside on the other side of the mountain to buy or seize salt.
"We're almost there, but General, we had an agreement beforehand..." Dingdang replied, "When we reach the Dragon's Roar Sacred Ground, you go in yourselves. I won't go in."
After speaking, Dingdang covered her chest with her hand, looking terrified.
Dingdang's voice was clear and melodious, like the larks in the mountains.
"Do I look like a general, Dingdang? I'm a few years older than you, so you can call me brother," Zhou Fugui chuckled. "What exactly is in the Dragon's Roar Sacred Ground that scares you so much? Are there deities or monsters inside?"
Zhou Fugui certainly hoped Dingdang would go with them. Without their skilled guide, Dingdang, he and his men would wander aimlessly. However, since Dingdang refused to enter the Dragon's Roar Sacred Ground, Zhou Fugui and his men could only brace themselves and press onward.
"Big Brother, Dingdang doesn't know either. Grandfather and Father always warned me not to go near the Dragon's Roar Sacred Ground..." Dingdang replied after thinking for a moment. "But Dingdang heard from Grandmother that there is an immortal living in the Dragon's Roar Sacred Ground. This immortal has a bad temper, and whoever enters never comes out."
"An immortal? Which immortal? So powerful? Humph, it's just a charade," Zhou Fugui scoffed upon hearing this.
"Oh, Big Brother, please don't speak such nonsense. Be careful not to blaspheme the immortal and anger the mountain spirit; that would be bad for us," Dingdang said hastily, although she didn't understand the meaning of "powerful." "Dingdang also heard that there is a great dragon in the sacred ground..."
"A great dragon?" Zhou Fugui looked around and laughed heartily. "What great dragon? Where would there be a great dragon? Do you believe it?"
"General, I believe it!" Yelihu spoke up. "I seem to have heard of this matter as well."
"Haha!" Zhou Fugui shook his head and laughed. "There are no dragons in this world. Ordinary people just trouble themselves."
"Roar..."
"Neigh... Neigh..."
At this very moment, a series of dragon roars suddenly echoed through Xianmiao Mountain, startling the horses into rearing, neighing to the heavens, and turning Zhou Fugui and the others deathly pale.