The Wolf Tribe: A Night of Revelry

Wang Ben was about to explain himself when Meng Tian swiftly interjected, his sharp gaze fixed on the direction where the Xiongnu cavalry had disappeared. He spoke in a grave tone:

"General, on our way here, we encountered a group of Qin civilians. Realizing the Xiongnu cavalry's trajectory, we advised them to seek refuge in the opposite direction. However, it appears those riders are heading directly towards their hiding place."

Qin Yi's brows furrowed at this revelation, a glint of cold determination flashing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he mounted his horse and barked an order:

"Men, follow me!"

At the same time, he instructed Wang Wu to escort the Gongshu family safely back to Fan City with a detachment of a hundred cavalry. Before departing, Qin Yi leaned in to whisper something in Wang Wu's ear, leaving the latter with a cryptic smile that suggested he had grasped a profound strategy.

Riding at full speed, Qin Yi's troop reached the civilians' hiding spot as dusk fell. What greeted them was a scene of devastation: dozens of lifeless bodies lay strewn across the blood-soaked ground. The stench of death and iron filled the air.

Zhang Han stepped forward, his expression grave.

"General, the tracks suggest the Xiongnu cavalry has already moved on. Given their direction, they're likely heading back to the Wolf Tribe."

"The Wolf Tribe…" Qin Yi murmured, his gaze hardening. He knew the name well. The Wolf Tribe was a formidable force in the northern grasslands, boasting fifty thousand elite warriors and a reputation for unflinching savagery. Attacking with his mere two thousand riders would be nothing short of suicide.

He stood silent, his mind caught in a tangle of conflicting choices. Just then, Meng Tian approached and presented a token with both hands.

"General Qin, this token was entrusted to me by a veiled maiden among the civilians. She instructed me to hand it to you, saying that if you saw it, you would surely come to her aid."

Qin Yi accepted the token, his fingers brushing over its intricate carvings. His eyes narrowed as he studied it. On one side, the character "医" (Medicine) was etched in an ancient style, while the reverse bore an engraving of an unfamiliar herb. Zhang Han's face shifted upon seeing it, and he whispered,

"General, isn't this the symbol of… their clan?"

Qin Yi gave a slight nod, his expression deepening. After a moment's thought, he asked Meng Tian,

"Was the token bearer a veiled maiden accompanied by an older woman?"

Meng Tian shook his head.

"General, I only saw the maiden. There was no older woman with her."

A faint unease flickered across Qin Yi's face. If the elder healer were present, there would be hope for the group's escape. But a lone maiden? The odds of survival were grim.

"General!" Zhang Han began, as though to persuade him otherwise, but Qin Yi raised a hand to silence him.

He took a deep breath, his eyes steely with resolve.

"Order the troops! We march to the Wolf Tribe!"

Zhang Han was stunned.

"General, the Wolf Tribe boasts fifty thousand warriors! With just two thousand of us, this is madness!"

Qin Yi's tone remained steady.

"Do not worry. I have a plan."

Leaning close, he whispered a series of instructions into Zhang Han's ear. The captain's initial shock gave way to admiration as Qin Yi's strategy unfolded. Without another word, the general led his cavalry into the falling sun's light.

The Wolf Tribe: A Night of Revelry

Under the veil of night, the Wolf Tribe's massive settlement stood illuminated by bonfires. In the heart of the encampment, a grand tent blazed with light. The air inside thrummed with the melody of flutes and strings, blending seamlessly with boisterous laughter. Graceful dancers swayed, their every move eliciting cheers from the audience.

At the head of the gathering, Bào Yúxíng, the tribe's leader, sat sprawled on a throne. His unkempt beard framed a face full of rough vigor. With one arm draped around a scantily-clad dancer and a goblet of wine in the other, he roared with laughter.

"Brothers! Tonight, we honor the second prince of the Xiongnu Kingdom. Let us drink to his health!"

"To the Second Prince!" The crowd echoed his toast with enthusiasm.

Seated at the right-hand side, the Xiongnu Second Prince returned the gesture with a polite smile. Yet beneath his composed exterior lay a storm of resentment.

Bào Yúxíng set his goblet down and leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with mockery.

"So, tell me, Your Highness, what brings you to my humble tribe this time? Let me guess—another 'glorious campaign' against Qin?"

His words dripped with sarcasm, a deliberate jab at the Xiongnu army's humiliating defeat during their last campaign. The tent erupted in laughter, with various tribe members chiming in.

"Another failure in the making?"

"Perhaps the prince should let us lead his men instead!"

"Come now, Your Highness, we promise not to mock you too much this time!"

The Second Prince's face flushed, but he swallowed his pride, his voice steady yet strained.

"Chief Bào, I assure you, this time we are fully prepared. The Qin army will not stand a chance…"