Wanyan Chixiong declared loudly, "I'll count to ten. If you don't come out before then, don't blame this prince for showing no mercy! Men, ready your fire arrows!"
Fifty Black Hu Warriors drew their bows and nocked fire arrows in unison. Wanyan Chixiong bellowed, "One! Two! Three! Four..."
Hu Xiaotian was at his wits' end. Huo Shengnan drew her iron bow to its full extent and aimed at Wanyan Chixiong amid the crowd, only to lower the arrowhead again. To catch the bandits, first catch their king-that was sound reasoning. If she shot Wanyan Chixiong dead and threw his men into chaos, they might have a chance to escape. But that might also rekindle war between Black Hu and Great Yong. She could not ruin everything on an impulse.
"Eight!" Wanyan Chixiong called. The deadline of his ultimatum drew ever closer.
Just then, a piercing, mournful strain of Hujia Flute Music suddenly rose from the northwest corner of the prince's residence.
Wanyan Chixiong's counting broke off, and fear showed on his face.
Hu Xiaotian and the others were also taken aback. Dong Tianjiang had suffered at the hands of this music before, and the memory was still fresh. He warned the others quietly, "Whatever you do, don't listen to the Hu flute, or you might lose your minds." Perhaps because a man bitten by a snake fears a well rope for ten years, Dong Tianjiang went so far as to clamp both hands over his ears.
The other three hurriedly focused their minds and stilled their breathing, practicing Guarding the One as they tried their utmost not to listen to the Hujia Flute Music, lest its music seize control of their minds.
Hu Xiaotian's first thought was Xi Yan. He was almost certain the Hujia Flute Music had something to