Chapter 73: Gun and Shield

Some beautiful women would go to great lengths to get close to him.

“Brother, why is Little White crying again? Let me hold him, all right?” Quan Zhenzhu called out loudly. She had just changed her clothes and seized the excuse to see Lu Hu.

Without waiting for Lu Hu’s response, she dove right in.

Lu Hu’s eyes lit up: the young girl, fresh from her bath, was radiant and dewy, as lovely as a lotus emerging from water.

Quan Zhenzhu climbed onto the bed, clinging to Lu Hu’s side as she teased Little White, her body exuding the enchanting fragrance of youth.

Lu Hu nearly lost control.

No, a man and a woman alone in one room—things could easily get out of hand. “Meiyu, I think Huahua is looking for you!” he called out.

“Coming!” In the next room, Quan Meiyu, anxious and restless, darted in like an arrow at the sound.

She was too shy to cling to Lu Hu as her sister did, so she sat at the edge of the bed, stroking Huahua, her almond-shaped eyes stealing glances at Lu Hu full of unspoken feeling.

Little White and Huahua soon tired of playing and began to doze.

Huahua knelt, curling up as she drifted into sweet slumber.

Little White lay on his back, legs splayed, eyes closed, and actually started snoring softly.

The sound lulled Quan Zhenzhu to sleep as well.

Lu Hu carefully lifted her, gently carrying her back to her own bed.

Quan Meiyu pressed close to Lu Hu, her left hand helping to support her sister, her right arm cradling the slumbering Huahua.

Just as Lu Hu was about to leave, Quan Zhenzhu suddenly reached out and wrapped her arms around his waist, her face pressed tightly against his broad back, refusing to let go.

Lu Hu could hear Quan Meiyu’s heart thudding wildly.

A wave of heat rushed to his head and spread through his body. He felt on the verge of losing control, his restraint nearly spent.

A true man must endure, even when all patience is exhausted…

No one knew how long they held each other, until Quan Zhenzhu, lost in dreams, murmured, “Brother, hold me…”

Immersed in bliss, Quan Meiyu was startled and released her grip.

The sleeping beauty, Quan Zhenzhu, turned over, snuggling up to Little Hua and continuing to sleep.

Lu Hu pressed a kiss to Quan Meiyu’s forehead and turned to leave.

But Quan Meiyu threw herself into his arms, holding him tight, refusing to let go.

Her soft cherry lips brushed his ear as she murmured:

“I wish to know you, and our love to endure without end.
Until mountains crumble, rivers run dry,
Thunder roars in winter, snow falls in summer,
Heaven and earth unite—
Only then would I part from you.”

When she finished, her eyes filled with tears as she gazed at Lu Hu with longing.

Lu Hu nodded deeply and held her in his arms once more…

I know your heart, and mine is the same. Yet a man born under heaven and earth must stand tall, sword in hand, riding forth to roam the land and bring peace to the world.

He must not lose himself in the land of tenderness…

“Little White will be waking soon. He’ll crawl about and might fall off the bed.” Lu Hu found an excuse, lifting Quan Meiyu and setting her gently onto the bed. He kissed her lips softly, then turned away with resolve.

If he didn’t retreat now, he feared he would surrender for good.

Lingding Xiaowu was nursing a child. Lu Hu went over to retrieve his electric baton and shield.

With a flick, the baton extended into a spear.

A click, and the battery pack unfolded into a shield.

Left hand gripping the shield for defense, right hand wielding the long spear, he practiced various combat maneuvers, thinking through different scenarios.

If you don’t train regularly, you’ll be unprepared in battle.

Only at times like this could he hone his skills without distraction.

This shield-and-spear fighting style was one Lu Hu had seen before in films and read about in books—mostly used by ancient Greek and Roman infantry.

It required great strength; single-handed spear use lacked the power of a two-handed grip and was easily countered or disarmed.

Such equipment was most effective in infantry formations, where soldiers worked together.

Alone, the weakness of single-handed spear use was obvious—far less destructive than with two hands.

But this divine weapon overcame that flaw, for it could release electricity.

As long as he was fast enough, touching the enemy was enough.

A surge of electricity would take care of the rest.

As long as the shield blocked incoming arrows or projectiles, keeping himself safe, if his spear could reach the enemy, victory was within easy grasp.

Lu Hu practiced shield maneuvers with his left hand, stabbing and thrusting with his right, training the speed of his thumb on the electric trigger—though naturally, he didn’t actually press it. Practice was one thing; he couldn’t waste the stored charge.

His movements grew more fluid, and only when he was drenched in sweat did he stop.

He stowed the spear and shield under his pillow, wiped off with a dry towel, and was about to crawl into bed.

Suddenly, Lu Hu sensed something amiss. He held his breath and listened intently.

He thought he’d just heard the sound of a twig snapping.

It was a faint, crisp “crack.”

His hearing was now far beyond that of ordinary people. Since using the electric baton, his skills had advanced dramatically, and his senses—sight and hearing—had grown almost unbelievably keen.

His sense of smell hadn’t improved much, though. Otherwise, his nose might have become like a bloodhound’s.

That wouldn’t be divine at all—just a barking dog.

Lu Hu sat cross-legged on the bed, focusing his energy and listening.

He could hear Lingding Xiaowu holding her breath, also listening intently.

On the bed, Little White’s soft, gurgling sleep sounds.

Next, he heard the steady breathing of the Quan sisters.

Then the faint snores of Ma Lihong and Zhu Xiaoying.

Listening more closely, he detected Bai Dabai outside the tent, also holding his breath, head swiveling as he watched the surroundings.

The guards outside shuffled their feet and rubbed their hands.

The patrol’s footsteps were uneven, weapons occasionally clinking.

Inside the eagle tent, only the servant Sun Zi’s muttering could be heard.

Listening further, he picked up the chorus of snores from soldiers in the nearby tents, mixed with the odd tooth-grinding and the occasional fart.

Everything seemed normal.

Perhaps someone in another tent just snapped a branch for the fire…

Suddenly, Lu Hu caught something unusual.

After the patrol passed, someone quickly moved from one tent to another.

They paused for a few breaths, then hurried to the next tent.

Lu Hu judged: someone was sneaking past the sentries, drawing steadily closer to his own tent.

This person was sharp and highly skilled—not an ordinary intruder…

“Xiaowu,” Lu Hu whispered, using a secret voice transmission, unsure if Lingding Xiaowu was also listening.

“I’m here, God. I hear it too—someone’s sneaking closer,” came her low reply.

“God, don’t worry! I’ve been watching him for a while.”

Bai Dabai growled softly outside the main entrance.

“My lord, we’ve noticed him too and are ready for battle,” came the low, guttural call of the White-headed Eagle King, his sharp ears catching Lu Hu’s quiet command in tiger tongue from inside the eagle tent.

Ha, my guards are so alert—the intruder won’t have expected this!

Sure enough, there was a long silence—no more footsteps.

The intruder’s hearing must be excellent as well; he must have sensed the tiger and eagle and was now hiding, watching.

Lu Hu had finished gathering his energy. He reached out gently…