"Woo woo!" "Bang bang!" "Huff, huff, huff..."

"Woo woo!" "Bang bang!" "Huff, huff, huff..."

"Woo woo..."

The cries of anguish grew weaker and weaker, gradually turning into pleas for mercy. The second vicious wolf gave up struggling, rolled over with its four paws in the air, and exposed its soft belly to him.

This was the standard gesture of surrender for canines, something Peter Bolton had seen before in documentaries. However, he didn't dare to slow down his swinging of the backpack in the slightest.

"Bang, bang, bang, bang bang..."

"Huff, huff, huff..."

"Woo..."

The sound of the backpack colliding with flesh and bone, accompanied by Peter Bolton's heavy breathing, continued without pause. The wolf's cries of pain disappeared completely. The second wolf's limbs curled up together, its head tilted to the side, its entire body a bloody mess.

Struggling to lift his right leg, Peter Bolton used all his strength to stomp down and crush the wolf's ribcage. Then he dropped the corpse of the second wolf and staggered toward the back of the rock.

Behind the half-weathered rock was a huge earthen hole leading straight underground. If he hadn't reacted in time just now, when the hole was broken through, the two wolves would have launched a pincer attack on him.

"No wonder I ran so far just now and still couldn't shake off the wolves!" With one hand on the rock, he bent over, gasping for breath.

It was obvious that from the very beginning, two wolves had set their sights on him. During the chase, the wolves took turns, wearing down his stamina. Meanwhile, he was all alone and didn't dare to look back to check behind him.

"Good thing I memorized classical Chinese in middle school!" With the crisis over, relief and exhaustion arrived together.

"Xia ren ##％&...(sha ren)!" Faintly, a human voice drifted over on the evening wind, but it wasn't familiar Chinese.

Just as in TV dramas, reinforcements always arrive "just in time" after the fight is over.

Turning his head, Peter Bolton looked toward the source of the voice.

There were seven or eight people approaching, all on horseback, each dressed in a very strange way, but they were unmistakably human!

His tension eased, and his vision went black. All the strength in his body vanished in an instant!

Chapter 3: Can't Even Speak Properly Anymore

"Dai si wu gang &￥#！（大师勿慌）" someone shouted from horseback. The language sounded very similar to Chinese, but Peter Bolton couldn't understand a single word.

The dizziness from exhaustion made it impossible for him to figure out what the other party was saying. Staggering a step, he used his left hand to grab onto an old elm tree.

The rough bark of the old elm scraped his palm, sending a burning pain through it. But at the same time, it effectively slowed his fall, at least preventing his face from hitting the ground directly.

"Dai si wu gang &￥#！, wo de te di &&￥@..." (大师勿慌，我等特地前来相救)

"Ren hu, ren lu, gan si Zhao Wei, yi fa ang #@#..." (任五，任六，检视周围，以防…) The rescuers continued shouting as they approached, their movements crisp and efficient. Midway, two of them broke off from the group, searching the grass and woods on either side of the mountain path.

"Hey!" Using the last bit of his strength, Peter Bolton pushed himself at the base of the tree, twisting his head and upper body forty-five degrees, changing from a face-down sprawl to a slouched, half-reclining position.

Still a mess, but at least now he could lift his head and give the rescuers a polite smile.

"I'm fi..." He only got two words out before they stuck in Peter Bolton's throat. His eyes instantly went wide and round, and his heart felt as if it were filled with mercury, sinking, sinking, sinking, plunging into a bottomless abyss!

"Heavens, are you blind?! All I did was glance at my phone while walking!" The wail echoed in his mind. At this moment, Peter Bolton knew for certain that he had truly transmigrated!

Although he had vaguely prepared himself for this, the instant he saw what the rescuers were wearing, he was still struck dumb with despair!

The belated rescuers numbered eight in total. All were on horseback, but the differences in their ranks were obvious at a glance.

Only two of them wore strange-looking round hats, one black, one blue. The other six all had a dusty gray cloth headscarf tied around their heads.

Beneath the headscarves, their hair was caked with dust and twisted into a bun like a steamed bun, with a greasy wooden stick stuck horizontally through the middle.

The two with round hats wore earth-yellow long robes, while the other six were all dressed in gray-blue long coats and pants.

The two with round hats each wore a pair of mid-calf boots, while the other six all wore cloth shoes. The style of the cloth shoes was extremely ugly—twice as ugly as the old cotton shoes Peter Bolton had seen during his volunteer teaching trip to rural Qinghai in his junior year!

...

"Dai si an pao!（大师安好）" Before he could see more, the man in the black round hat clasped his hands in front of his chest and greeted him again.

"Ah, ah, I'm fine, I'm fine!" Peter Bolton's soul was quickly pulled back by the other party's words and actions.

Bracing himself with both arms, he struggled to sit up straighter and loudly replied in Chinese, not caring what the other party had just asked or whether they could understand him.