Monster Hunter, start with a wife!

Gao Wang suddenly stood up, his robe kicking up a shard of ice, and was about to plunge into the lake.

The moment my toes touched the ice on the lake, an invisible repulsive force suddenly surged up from beneath the ice, as if I had crashed into a clump of solidified swamp.

The source energy within his body suddenly stagnated, its circulation speed dropping by 70%, and even lifting a foot required considerable effort.

Gao Wang frowned, gritted his teeth, and took another half step forward.

The repulsive force beneath the ice intensified, and the surrounding gray fog seemed to come alive, drilling into his mouth and nose. His ears were ringing, and fragmented phantoms began to appear before his eyes.

He saw his old comrade-in-arms, who had long since died in battle, standing in the fog, covered in blood, calling his name.

Damn it.

Gao Wang cursed under his breath and quickly took two steps back to the safe area on the shore.

His chest rose and fell slightly, and a thin layer of sweat appeared on his forehead.

The rules of this shadowy area were even stronger than he had expected; with his cultivation level, he couldn't even take three steps inside.

Last month, he accompanied the head of the family to investigate once. Standing in this very spot, he witnessed a seventh-tier hunter who refused to believe in evil pick up the bamboo basket, go completely mad, and start gnawing on the ice until his mouth was full of blood. Finally, he plunged into the icy lake and disappeared without a trace.

Oh no! I promised the head of the family that I would ensure his safety no matter what!

Just as he was getting anxious, a gentle female voice came from beside him:

"Mr. Gao, there's no need to worry."

Ruan Qinghe took half a step forward, her tone very calm, "Brother Cheng must be confident to take it."

Gao Wang turned around and glanced at the few girls standing on the shore.

The seven girls each had their own unique demeanor, yet none of them showed any sign of panic.

Gao Wang was speechless, unsure whether this was ignorance or overconfidence.

Unable to get close, he was helpless.

Turning back to look at the center of the lake, Cheng Zhuo had already picked up the bamboo basket, pinching something between his fingertips and hooking it onto the fishing hook.

None of the expected scenes of madness and hallucinations occurred.

The young man stood tall and composed in the gray fog, his posture upright and his movements calm, not even his shoulder line swaying.

Gao Wang opened his mouth, but remained silent for a long time.

Strange.

This is really weird.

……

The moment Cheng Zhuo's fingertips touched the bamboo basket, he felt a slightly cool sensation creep up his fingertips.

The bamboo basket is made of ordinary bamboo strips, and the edges are worn shiny, indicating that it has been around for quite some time.

Inside, there was a layer of crushed ice, on which a dozen or so ice worms, each about half a finger long, were curled up. They were grayish-black with two scarlet spots on their heads, curled into small balls, and would wriggle slightly if touched.

He picked one up.

The ice worm's body is hard, like a small pebble, and its surface is covered with a very thin layer of frost.

Cheng Zhuo applied slight pressure with his fingertips, hooking the insect's body onto the bend of the fishing hook, adjusting it a couple of times to ensure it wouldn't fall off.

After the entire set of movements was completed, the surroundings became calm and peaceful.

There were no abnormalities.

The angler sat still, his cloudy yellow eyes darting around as his gaze fell on the baited hook, a low sound escaping his throat.

Thank you.

His voice was hoarse, like two stones rubbing together.

Cheng Zhuo didn't say anything, but gently handed the fishing rod back to him.

The angler's thin fingers gripped the fishing rod, and he slowly turned it around, lowering the fishing line back into the ice.

The moment the fishing line sank into the ice, it didn't even create a ripple; it just went straight through as if the ice didn't exist at all.

Cheng Zhuo stood beside him, not urging him, and just waited with him.

The gray mist flowed slowly around the two of them, and time seemed to be frozen, moving at an absurdly slow pace.

After an unknown amount of time, the angler suddenly sighed.

"I won't take the bait."

His voice carried a hint of weariness, and a touch of familiar disappointment.

"What...are you fishing for?" Cheng Zhuo asked.

The angler remained silent for a moment.

"A package of letters home," he said. "Letters home from my soldiers."

Cheng Zhuo raised an eyebrow, but didn't interrupt, waiting for him to continue.

The angler's gaze was fixed on the distant gray fog, his cloudy eyes seeming to reflect scenes from many years ago.

"I am a vanguard captain of the Northern Garrison."

His voice was slow, carrying the vicissitudes of time.

As he spoke, Cheng Zhuo's vision blurred, and the scene changed.

He did not act rashly, but observed quietly.

"Three hundred and seventy-two brothers." The fisherman's voice continued, now trembling with a hint of suppressed emotion, a change from its previous calm. "They all came from the North with me."

Gray mist settled on his white hair, gradually condensing into fine frost.

His name is Qi Yanshan, a deputy general of the northern border army of the Great Xia Dynasty.

That year, the snow disaster on the grassland came early. In September, there was a blizzard with snow up to knee-deep. The barbarians' pastures were all frozen solid, and most of the cattle and sheep died.

As winter approached, the barbarians, who had been gathering their strength for the better part of a year, suddenly marched south.

Qi Yanshan led his 372 men to guard the Jingshan Pass. Looking at the densely packed barbarian troops, Qi Yanshan knew that there was no way back.

After sending a messenger on horseback to deliver the message, they held their position at the pass.

The city was an old city; the walls were almost completely peeling off, and even the city gates were newly replaced with fresh wood.

They held the pass for three days, but their stockpile of arrows was exhausted, the pile of boulders was empty, and the soldiers standing on the city wall were all wounded, their cotton armor covered in blood and ice, making it difficult for them to even lift their arms.

Everyone knows there's no going back.

Someone suggested that it might be appropriate to leave a letter home.

You always have to leave a message for your family.

Looking at the barbarians resting under the cover of night, Qi Yanshan remained silent for a moment, then nodded.

He knew that even if he wrote it down, he probably couldn't take it back.

But it's just a thought.

Under the cover of night, the oil lamps inside Jingshan Pass crackled and popped as a dozen literate clerks gathered around the lamps, writing for their illiterate brothers.

The cook, Xiao Zhang, said his son was only six months old, and the baby couldn't even smile when he left.

He instructed the clerk to write a letter telling the child to study hard, not to follow in his footsteps as a cook or a soldier, and to live a peaceful and stable life.

The messenger, Xiao Fangzi, was only fourteen years old and shorter than his gun.

Clutching half a piece of dry rations, he said the letter was for his sister, and that he had saved up half a year's worth of military pay and given it to Qi Yanshan, begging him that if he could really take the letter out, he would give it to his sister as part of her dowry.

There was also a centurion surnamed Chen whose wife was pregnant and due in the spring.

After thinking for a long time, he only wrote "It's good that mother and child are safe." Finally, he asked Qi Yanshan to give him a name.

Qi Yanshan thought for a moment and decided to name the boy Chen Wangbei and the girl Chen Nian'an.

Three hundred and seventy-two letters were written over the course of a whole night.

Some of them were written on behalf of the deceased.

Of the 372 people, more than half had already perished.

At daybreak, Qi Yanshan neatly folded all the letters and stuffed them into a waterproof oilcloth bag, sealing the opening with sealing wax from the border army.

He tied the package to his armor, patted it, and promised that he would find a way to send it back to the interior.

Later, they held out for another two days.

Just when things seemed about to break down, the world changed.

The barbarian charge weakened, and they retreated thirty miles to set up camp. The remaining soldiers breathed a sigh of relief, slumped against the wall, panting, saying that at least they could rest for two days and perhaps hold out until reinforcements arrived.

However, the heavy rain continued for seven days and seven nights.

The barbarian invasion destroyed Jingguan and plunged it into a desperate situation.

On the eighth night, floodwaters rushed down the mountain through the valley, with waves higher than the city walls.

The old city was built in a low-lying area, and the western city wall was washed away on the spot.

The icy water instantly enveloped me.

Qi Yanshan clutched the package tightly to his chest. When the wave crashed over him, he choked on several mouthfuls of water, and his vision slowly blurred.

In his final moments, he was thinking of these letters home…