Traveling back in time to Liu Feng, starting with rescuing soldier Guan Yu.

On the evening of the third day, in the dense forest of the valley.

The setting sun cast its last rays upon the mountain ridge, plunging the dense forest into darkness.

Liu Feng sat on a dead tree, whittling an arrow shaft with a dagger. His movements were unhurried, but his knuckles were clenched tighter than usual.

Ma Liang has been gone for three whole days.

Three days is enough time for a eloquent debater to persuade five chieftains, and enough time for an enraged barbarian leader to win. Several scouts sent out beforehand have not returned, like stones thrown into a deep pool, not even causing a ripple.

Kou Wei squatted down beside Liu Feng and whispered, "Brother, is Mr. Ji Chang... in danger?"

"Won't."

Liu Feng inserted the sharpened arrow shaft into the quiver, put away his dagger, and stood up. "Mr. Ji Chang's words are as sharp as knives and axes. Even if he can't persuade the Wuxi barbarians, with our troops here, they won't dare to touch him! He hasn't returned yet, there must be someone who doesn't want him to come back."

Liu Feng patted the sawdust off his hands.

"Pass down the order: Ziwu, you will temporarily take command of the troops and strengthen vigilance. Each garrison will take turns on night watch, and the sentry posts, both visible and hidden, will remain in place. No fires are to be lit without my order. I will personally lead a patrol."

Kou Wei hesitated, then simply clasped his hands in agreement. Having followed Liu Feng for so long, he had learned not to offer advice when Liu Feng said "personally."

Before long, Liu Feng, accompanied by more than ten personal guards, changed out of his conspicuous armor and wore only dark brown shorts, his face smeared with mud and ash, and short knives at his waist. He then sneaked into the dense forest of the Wuxi barbarian territory.

Guan Yinping, one of the personal guards, stood in front of Liu Feng, about to say, "Deputy Commander, I'll go with you..."

Liu Feng waved his hand and said gently, "The future is uncertain. If you come with me, it will distract us. Besides, I want you to stay here and wait for Tanzhi to come with the grain supplies. He has been gone for two days and should be back soon."

Guan Yinping bit her lip, about to say something more. Liu Feng's face darkened, and he said, "Yinping, this is a military order!"

After saying that, Liu Feng reached out and patted Guan Yinping on the head, then led more than ten guards into the dense forest.

The forests of Wuxi Man are different from those of Jing Mountain—the ancient trees here are taller and denser, with layer upon layer of canopies that block out the sun, vines hanging down like curtains, and a thick layer of fallen leaves on the ground that makes no sound when stepped on.

Occasionally, mountain springs seep from the cracks in the rocks, flowing over the moss with a barely audible gurgling sound. The air is filled with a damp and intense scent, a mixture of decaying leaves, wild honey, and some unknown wildflower.

Liu Feng moved stealthily through the dense forest, his movements as agile as a cheetah, with more than ten guards following closely behind, even deliberately keeping their breathing extremely low.

As they were walking forward, a shout and a few scattered footsteps suddenly came from ahead.

Liu Feng made a gesture, and his guards silently dispersed, hiding behind tree trunks. Liu Feng climbed onto the branch of an ancient tree and looked into the distance. He saw dozens of people surrounding a burly young man running towards the depths of the dense forest in the direction of the stockade.

The young man was extremely tall, with broad shoulders and a thick back. A huge ox-horn bow hung at his waist. The bow was nearly a foot longer than an ordinary war bow, and the bowstring was as thick as a thumb. It gleamed with a faint amber light in the twilight.

The dozens of men behind him were all strong and fierce, each with prey and hunting spears hanging from their waists, and their shouts rose and fell, clearly indicating that they were out hunting.

Liu Feng's gaze fell on the ox-horn bow, and a thought struck him. Ordinary bows and crossbows have an effective range of only about a hundred paces; if this bow were fully drawn, its range would likely be more than twice that of an ordinary bow and crossbow. Anyone who could wield such a powerful bow was no ordinary person.

He silently slid down the tree trunk and gestured to his guards—follow him. Under the cover of the twilight forest, a dozen or so men followed the group of barbarian hunters at a distance, as silently as a pack of wolves chasing a herd of deer.

The group of young people ran swiftly through the dense forest—they knew this forest so well that they knew every ditch and ridge and every animal trail by heart, and their footsteps barely paused on the fallen leaves.

Suddenly, a deep roar came from the bushes ahead, shaking the trees and startling a flock of crows that fluttered into the deepening twilight. The bushes parted abruptly, and a striped tiger slowly emerged from them.

The tiger was enormous, its shoulders almost reaching a person's chest. Its stripes gleamed with a dark golden luster in the twilight, and its pair of emerald green eyes coldly stared at the crowd, emitting a low growl from its throat.

Several of the guards had never seen such a magnificent tiger before and were terrified. Liu Feng frowned; it was also the first time he had ever seen such a large tiger!

The barbarian hunters, however, showed no fear. Instead, they erupted in a near-frenzied cheer. Some shouted excitedly in their barbarian language, while others banged their hunting spears against their shields—to them, this was not danger, but prey.

The young man grinned, revealing a set of teeth as white as if he had drunk from a mountain spring. He stretched out his right hand and pounded his chest a few times, then took the ox-horn bow from behind his back and picked out an iron-backed arrow from his quiver that was nearly twice as thick and long as an ordinary arrow.

The arrow shaft was carved from hardwood, the arrowhead was forged from black iron, and the fletching was made from the wings of a mountain eagle. When it was nocked on the bowstring, it was almost half his height.

He made a gesture, and dozens of hunters understood immediately, automatically spreading out in a semi-circle to surround the tiger. Someone blew a horn, its deep sound echoing through the dense forest; someone waved torches, forcing the tiger to struggle left and right within the circle, but it remained trapped.

The tiger's roar shook the leaves, causing them to fall in a rustling sound. The young man didn't even flinch. Just as the tiger arched its back, gathering its strength to pounce, he suddenly drew his bow and nocked an arrow. The ox-horn bow in his hand was bent like a full moon, its back creaking as if it would snap at any moment.

The Ironback Arrow flew from the bowstring with a sharp, tearing sound, cutting a straight black line through the twilight.

One arrow. It struck the tiger squarely between the eyebrows.

The arrow pierced through the tiger's brow, penetrating its skull, and exiting from the back of its head, drawing out a cloud of blood. The tiger let out a muffled roar, its massive body crashing to the ground. Its limbs twitched twice before it lay still. Tiger blood gushed from the arrow wound in its brow, pooling into a small, dark red puddle on the fallen leaves.

The dense forest was first deathly silent, then erupted into a deafening cheer. Barbarian hunters swarmed forward; some drew their knives and began skinning the tiger, while others raised the young man's arm and shouted something, as if singing an impromptu hymn.

Standing in the shadow of the tree trunk, Liu Feng couldn't help but exclaim, "What excellent archery!" He didn't deliberately lower his voice, so it didn't seem out of place amidst the cheers. But the young man suddenly turned around, his gaze like lightning, shooting straight at the shadow where Liu Feng was hiding.

The hunters behind him also drew their swords and bows at the same time, instantly switching from a state of revelry to a state of combat readiness. Their movements were as fast as those of a regular army.

Liu Feng slowly emerged from the shadows.

He gestured for his guards to remain where they were, then walked to a spot about ten paces away from the young man. Since no one else recognized him, he simply faced the young man directly, cupping his hands in greeting, and said, "Your archery skills are truly admirable, killing a tiger with a single arrow!"

The young man frowned slightly.

He looked Liu Feng up and down—his gaze swept from the long sword at Liu Feng's waist to the muscle lines of his shoulders and back, then to the calm yet sharp eyes on his face, and finally to the thick calluses on the back of his hand that could only be formed from years of holding a sword.

The young man suddenly asked in heavily accented Mandarin, "Who are you, and what brings you here?"

Liu Feng breathed a sigh of relief. He was really afraid that the young man in the lead wouldn't understand Mandarin, and even if he captured him and took him back, he wouldn't be able to get any information out of him.

"I am Liu Feng. I have come here only to find a friend!"

Upon hearing the name "Liu Feng," the young man's eyes lit up. Was this the Liu Feng that Ma Liang had mentioned during the day, the one who had killed Cao Ren and seized Xiangfan? He suddenly threw the ox-horn bow behind him, which was caught steadily by a clansman. Then he strode towards Liu Feng.

"Liu Feng".

He uttered those two words in heavily accented Mandarin, and then suddenly made his move.

His right hand, with its five fingers like an eagle's claw, grabbed at Liu Feng's right shoulder. This move is the most commonly used starting stance in the barbarian wrestling techniques. Once the Jianjing acupoint is pinched, the tendons and bones will be dislocated. However, he did not launch a sneak attack. He deliberately paused before making his move, clearly intending to have a head-on confrontation.

Instead of retreating, Liu Feng advanced.

He slightly lowered his right shoulder to dodge the grab, and at the same time, his left hand reached out, grabbed the young man's wrist, and pushed him away. The young man used the momentum to spin around, and his left elbow swept across Liu Feng's temple, but Liu Feng blocked it with his arm.

The two began to fight in the dense forest at dusk—not a mounted battle on the battlefield, but a close-quarters wrestling match with fists and feet.

The barbarian's wrestling skills and the Han army's grappling techniques each had their own merits.

The young man's every move was powerful and heavy, his punches and kicks swift and powerful; Liu Feng, on the other hand, used skill to break through force and borrowed the opponent's strength to strike back.

When the two had fought for fifty rounds, the young man suddenly changed his move, crouched down and grabbed Liu Feng's waist, intending to lift Liu Feng into the air and throw him to the ground.

He had used this move to defeat thirteen people in a row at the Wuxi Wrestling Tournament, rarely encountering an opponent.

Before he could exert his strength, Liu Feng took advantage of his forward momentum to trip him by the calf with his toes, turned to the side to dissipate the force, and pressed down with both arms. The two fell over at the same time, their backs hitting the grass together.

A cheer erupted from the dense forest. The barbarian hunters stared wide-eyed, while the Han army guards held their breath.

The two of them flipped and leaped up, both slightly out of breath, their robes covered with fallen leaves and dirt. They looked at each other, their eyes simultaneously filled with admiration.

"Impressive skills." Liu Feng patted the dirt off his clothes.

The young man suddenly threw his head back and burst into laughter.

The hearty laughter startled the birds roosting in the forest, causing them to take flight once more. "Liu Feng, who could kill Cao Ren in battle, is indeed a man of honor." He stopped his stance, clenched his right fist, and pounded his left chest, solemnly declaring, "My name is Sha Moke, and I am the chieftain of the Chenxi tribe."