"General Deng, what's got you so surprised?"
Chen Sanshi smiled faintly and teased, "Don't tell me you really think I'm some loyal hero of the Great Sheng Dynasty?"
"Isn't that what you are?"
Deng Feng's face was deadly serious. "Everything you have was bestowed upon you by the emperor of the Sheng Dynasty."
"He bestowed it on me?"
Chen Sanshi chuckled coldly. "Sure, he bestowed upon me a cup of poisoned wine."
He laughed, though his tone was edged with bitterness. "All I ever wanted in life was something simple—hunt a few animals, earn some silver, learn a bit of martial arts, and live comfortably as a well-off man. That was it. But what happened? Step by step, they forced me into this path. The bullies went unpunished, the martial schools killed without consequence, and even after I joined the army, every promotion was blocked."
He took a breath. "The ten days in Yunzhou, as you said, were full of rot. To create such a disaster—only someone at the very top could have done it. I don't need to spell it out, do I?"
"From Yunzhou to Youzhou, how many brothers died along the way? I remember every single one of their names. When I led the people across the river, do you think I wanted to? I had no choice but to do it."
He looked up, eyes cold and sharp. "And such a court… you tell me, is it worthy of my loyalty?"
Deng Feng was dumbstruck.
He couldn't have imagined that the young general who had risen to fame across the land in just two short years didn't even hold the court in his eyes.
"General Deng!"
Chen Sanshi took a step closer, lowering his voice, but each word struck like thunder. "What I'm about to say—if others heard it, I'd be executed along with nine generations of my clan. But I'll say it anyway."
He leaned in, his gaze fierce. "Whether it's the Kingdom of Qing, the Great Sheng, Southern Xu, or even the barbarians—they're all rotten to the core! Yes, I wear Sheng armor, but everything I've done has never been for that damned court."
"First, I do it for myself. Second, within the limits of my power, I deal with what I can't stand—sect brats, corrupt officials—but it's still not enough. There's too much filth I can't touch."
"Like you said, the ten days in Yunzhou. Even if I know something stinks, what can I do? Pretend not to know, that's all."
"What I can do now is keep getting stronger—until no one dares to humiliate me, no one dares to stop me. Only then can I truly say, 'With a three-foot blade in hand, I'll cut down all the filth of the world!'"
He looked straight into Deng Feng's eyes. "I told you all this because you've been blinded by the word 'loyalty.' You can't see that the real disease of this world lies in the very court you're loyal to!"
At that moment, Deng Feng—raised on the teachings of sages, trained since childhood to serve his ruler and his nation—felt his worldview collapse.
He forced his mind to clear and blurted out, "You… you plan to rebel? When?!"
This time, it was Chen Sanshi's turn to be stunned.
He hadn't really thought that far ahead.
But now that he said it aloud… it did sound like rebellion.
The emperor had poisoned him—of course that debt had to be repaid.
Still, that was a distant goal. For now, he needed something more realistic—to become a commander first.
After all, he wasn't even at the Profound Manifestation realm yet, much less a Martial Saint.
The emperor, however, was a cultivator—a true immortal path cultivator.
The gap between them was astronomical.
"General Deng," Chen Sanshi asked calmly, "do you understand what I'm saying?"
"I…" Deng Feng's face darkened, his mind in turmoil. "So what you mean is that this world suffers not because of corrupt officials, but because the court itself is rotten?"
"Exactly."
"So tell me, General Deng—your so-called loyalty, is it loyalty to the common people, or loyalty to one family's private throne?"
"That's wrong! You're wrong!"
Deng Feng's voice cracked. "The sages said, 'One who eats the ruler's grain must serve the ruler loyally'—that is the truth!"
"'Eats the ruler's grain?'"
Chen Sanshi asked coldly, "And where does that grain come from?"
A sudden thunderclap seemed to strike Deng Feng's mind.
"Those books of sages—they're written by men. Just like Martial Saints are called sages too. Do you take their words as divine truth?"
He stopped suddenly and said, "General Deng, think about it. If you keep your loyalty to the Qing royal line, what will you get besides an empty title of 'six generations of loyal martyrs'?"
"My words end here. I won't try to persuade you anymore."
"If after seven days you still call yourself a loyal servant of the Qing royal family, then I'll admit I misjudged you. You'll just be another man chasing fame. I'll have your head—and your family's—hung on the city wall for all to see."
"Or…"
"You can open your eyes, live, and wait for the day when we cleanse this filthy world."
"The choice is yours, General."
"Farewell."
With that, Chen Sanshi turned and walked out of the tent.
Behind him, Deng Feng hung from the wooden post, drenched in blood, staring blankly into the night—shaken, lost, broken.
'A man like that—you could never make him betray one court just to serve another,' Chen Sanshi thought. He had made his stance clear on purpose.
Cultivation.
That was all that mattered now.
He returned to the city and practiced his spear day and night.
Meanwhile, he sent Xia Cong and the others to subdue the remaining eight prefectures.
Once they heard that Zhaotong Prefecture had already surrendered, none dared resist. Every city opened its gates and welcomed the Sheng army in.
Now, only Yongle Prefecture remained defiant.
Its 50,000 elite soldiers were the private army that Prince Li Gong had gathered over the years. With ample supplies and strong morale, surrender was out of the question.
Now the situation stood thus—
"My lord, shall I bring the map?"
Xia Cong had already prepared it.
"Hmm."
Chen Sanshi nodded.
Xia Cong immediately spread the map open.
"Green Ridge Mountain—other than the Emperor of Qing, we don't know if there are any other Martial Saints there. That means we'll need a massive military deployment to block them and keep them out of Laizhou."
"Also, we must be ready to face the Southern Xu Kingdom's army at any time."
"It's either secession—or…"
"Hold Hulao Pass for three to five months, wait until Yongle Prefecture falls, and the enemy will retreat on its own."
"That's the best plan for now…"
"But judging from the current situation, we can't mobilize much manpower from within Laizhou in the short term. At most, just a few thousand men, and even then, they're…"
"Me!"
Chen Sanshi's mind raced as he analyzed.
He quickly reached a conclusion.
If someone was to defend Hulao Pass, that almost suicidal task would most likely fall to him.
Whether to hold the pass or to divide the territory—
That would depend entirely on how much the emperor desired Mount Ziwei.
[Skill: Dragon Spear of Nation-Suppression · Meridian-Connecting (Mastery)]
[Progress: 496/1000]
[Technique: Sword Qi Technique (Mastery)]
[Progress: 955/1000]
In the blink of an eye, two days passed.
Chen Sanshi's spear technique had already surpassed the halfway mark, and his Sword Qi Technique was close to a breakthrough.
On the morning of the third day, he had just stepped out of his quarters when You Jike rushed over to report.
"My lord!"
"20,000 Tiger Guards have arrived from Yongle Prefecture! General Fan Tianfa brings the Commander's command!"
"Qianxun!"
Chen Sanshi called his steed and mounted, galloping straight for the city gate.
"Chen Sanshi, hear your orders!"
Fan Tianfa held up the Commander's token. "The Southern Xu army is advancing directly toward Hulao Pass. The Commander orders you to lead 3,000 Black Armored Cavalry and reach Hulao Pass within ten days. Hold the pass for one hundred days, no matter the cost! If you fail—bring your head to me!"
As expected…
This thankless task was his again.
Chen Sanshi had already guessed it would come to this. "Subordinate Chen Sanshi, accepts the command!"
"Hmm."
Fan Tianfa looked at him carefully. "General Fang will follow soon to assist with strategy. Other than that… well, asking what you need is pointless right now. Even grain and rations take forever to move these days. We'll give you what we can—but don't expect much."
"Lacking a commander."
Chen Sanshi nodded. "General Fan, I'm only at the Meridian-Connecting realm. No matter how steep Hulao Pass is, if you don't assign a commander at least at the Profound Manifestation realm, it's unreasonable. If there's no one else available, give me Sha Wenlong."
"Alright, I'll agree to that."
Fan Tianfa didn't refuse. "Sha Wenlong's remaining troops will come with me to Green Ridge Mountain. He himself will go with you to Hulao Pass."
"General Fan!"
Off to the side, Sha Wenlong nearly spat blood.
He had just survived the siege of Zhaotong Prefecture, and now he was being sent to take orders from a Meridian-Connecting officer again.
"Thank you, General Fan!"
Chen Sanshi didn't particularly like Sha Wenlong either.
But he had no choice—there was simply no one else to use.
And right now, both the Crown Prince and the Emperor were desperate to reclaim Mount Ziwei. On the battlefield, Sha Wenlong would obey—since it was his master's interest at stake.
Fan Tianfa said sincerely, "I hope the two of you can accomplish this mission and earn one of the top merits in this campaign."
"General Fan!"
Once they were alone, Sha Wenlong followed behind, grumbling again. "Can't we switch someone out? Send Cui Congyi instead—anyone but me! I'd rather charge into the enemy formation than go to Hulao Pass!"
"General Sha!"
Fan Tianfa frowned. "This is not the time for childish pride. Taking back the three prefectures doesn't just concern the Great Sheng Dynasty's future—it's also vital for His Highness's plans. If you follow Chen Sanshi and hold that pass, you know how great the merit will be. So follow orders."
"I understand."
Sha Wenlong finally stopped arguing. "I'm just worried that if I go alone with him, he'll take revenge."
"Revenge?"
Fan Tianfa raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly do you two have between you?"
"I…"
Sha Wenlong couldn't answer.
"Enough."
Fan Tianfa clapped him on the shoulder. "If he really dares take personal revenge, report it after the war. Retaliation during duty is a major crime. Now go prepare."
"Hyah—!"
Once the army was assembled, Fan Tianfa led his men off toward Green Ridge Mountain.
"Senior Brother."
Chen Sanshi rode out five li from the city to meet Fang Qingyun, who still couldn't move easily.
Fang Qingyun held a flute in his hand and grinned. "Junior Brother, your momentum is truly impressive. I'm honestly amazed."
"Senior Brother overpraises me."
Chen Sanshi helped push his chair back toward the command tent. "We've got two days left. Help me analyze the coming situation at Hulao Pass. You should know the details better than I do."
They spread out the map and sat facing each other.
"This time, the Southern Xu Kingdom struck when we were weakest—100,000 troops marching in force," Fang Qingyun explained. "Of those, 50,000 are elites, many at the Meridian-Connecting realm. The remaining 50,000 are newly trained formation soldiers, but still competent. It's a strong, unstoppable advance."
"Their only weakness is that they lack a Martial Saint. But they have four at the Profound Manifestation realm."
"Among them, two are princes—their commander Fan Shuzhen and Fan Jiaxiao, the eighth and fourteenth princes of Southern Xu. Besides them, there's also one marquis and two generals."
"As for those generals, Ran Jingxuan deserves special mention."
"Junior Brother, do you know him?"
"Of course."
Chen Sanshi nodded. "He ranks among the top strategists of the world—after Wolong and Fengchu. They call him 'Ling Suan,' son of the Southern Xu's greatest tactician, 'Tomb Tiger.'"
In the 57th year of Longqing, the great southern rebellion had been his father's doing—it nearly crippled the Great Sheng's national strength.
The old Tomb Tiger had long since retired, but his son, personally trained by him, had gradually risen to prominence.
For the past ten-plus years, Ran Jingxuan's name had shaken every frontier.
"'Ling Suan' Ran Jingxuan has made countless achievements in Southern Xu. In the southernmost frontiers, he once captured two prefectures from a rival nation in a single campaign, earning instant fame. He's now regarded as one of Southern Xu's most formidable warriors—some even call him 'Ran Ling Suan, unmatched in strategy and wit.'"
"Zhonghu, my master's lifelong rival, personally trained him. That alone says enough. And Ran Jingxuan isn't young anymore—past forty, steady and sharp, not some impulsive youth easily swayed by emotion."
Fang Qingyun continued, "As for their commander, Fan Shuzhen, he's one of the four strongest contenders among Southern Xu's many princes. He's marching in such a hurry because he wants to earn immortal merit from this war, securing a greater claim in the future struggle for succession."
"All four Profound Manifestation realm generals under him are nobles of the highest rank in Southern Xu, with countless Meridian-Connecting experts serving beneath them."
"But on our side, we have only one—Sha Wenlong. On paper, the gap is enormous."
"Junior Brother, how's your Sword Qi Technique coming along?"
"Not bad," Chen Sanshi said calmly. "I might be able to challenge a Profound Manifestation cultivator, but achieving Major Achievement is still far off."
The Sword Qi Technique had been taught to him by both his master and Fang Qingyun. Even the Seeking Immortals Tower had given him Spirit Sand for it, knowing full well it was his life-saving trump card—no need to hide it.
Fang Qingyun nodded. "That's good. Even a little more strength increases our odds."
"But, Senior Brother," Chen Sanshi frowned, "even if I can kill a Profound Manifestation realm opponent, can I really use Sword Qi Technique on the battlefield? Even if no one sees it, the death of an enemy general still needs an explanation. I can't exactly say a Meridian-Connecting officer killed a Profound Manifestation one."
Fang Qingyun twirled the flute in his fingers and pointed at himself. "Isn't that what I'm here for?"
"You mean…" Chen Sanshi's eyes narrowed. "Say it was you?"
"Exactly." Fang Qingyun's voice was calm. "You're still young. As for Master and me, we've long since stopped fearing boiling water on our backs. His Majesty has had his eye on us for a long time anyway. Better he keeps watching us than noticing you."
"I understand now."
Chen Sanshi realized it instantly.
The emperor's decree to send the crippled Fang Qingyun to Hulao Pass wasn't meaningless—it was clear he was hoping the man would unleash some hidden method, create a miracle or two in battle.
'That old emperor really does use every last drop of worth in people.'
But still… this would be tough.
Sword Qi Technique was a true immortal art, and he hadn't reached Perfection yet. Its battle power was limited. Fortunately, he still had his Mystic Pearl—a hidden trump card he could use if things got desperate.
"General Deng!"
Chen Sanshi entered the tent. "Have you thought it through?"
Deng Feng's hair was matted with dirt and blood, his head hanging low, eyes bloodshot and unfocused. He didn't reply.
Outside, from the sky above the camp, came the sharp cries of gyrfalcons.
It was Li Gong's signal—urging him to die, to keep the dignity of the Great Qing, to preserve his so-called reputation as a loyal martyr.
"I said I wouldn't try to persuade you again. I'm only here to tell you—I'm leaving."
Chen Sanshi said plainly, "Tomorrow morning, I'll march to another front. You don't have seven days anymore to think about it."
Deng Feng stayed silent.
Chen Sanshi didn't press further. He turned and left the tent, heading straight to the training grounds to drill the Black Armored Cavalry.
Men like Deng Feng, steeped in books of loyalty and righteousness since childhood, couldn't be expected to change overnight. What Chen Sanshi said to him was heresy to his very soul—it would take time to digest.
The 3,000 Black Armored Cavalry formed the Ninefold Celestial Soldiers Formation, thundering across the plains with unstoppable momentum.
Meanwhile, the white glow of Chen Sanshi's Mystic Pearl had grown brighter and thicker.
There was an 80% chance that this energy was the manifestation of his growing strength. Once he fought a real battle, he could confirm it for sure.
Such abundant white mystic qi—if unleashed all at once—could turn into a devastating ambush force.
But then again…
Southern Xu had 100,000 troops.
No matter how elite his 3,000, they couldn't possibly win a frontal clash.
He would have to take things one step at a time.
Another night passed quietly.
At dawn, as the first light rose in the east, Chen Sanshi led his 3,000 Black Armored Cavalry toward Hulao Pass.
Meanwhile, in the detention tent—
Sha Wenlong entered, dragging his broad saber across the floor.
With the army departing soon, they didn't have spare officers to escort prisoners. By military rule, captured enemy generals were to be executed before withdrawal.
That Chen fellow wasn't omnipotent.
A few days ago, he'd wasted half the day talking in this tent, yet it changed nothing.
"Deng Feng!"
"Your time's up!"
Sha Wenlong gripped his saber tightly, the edge gleaming with gang qi. "I'll give you one last chance—surrender, or die!"
Deng Feng said nothing.
"Then die it is!"
"Buzz!"
The broad saber trembled, aura swirling, ready to strike down.
Just then, Deng Feng—who had been lifeless for days—finally spoke, his voice hoarse.
"Call Chen Sanshi."
"Hmm?"
Sha Wenlong hesitated, lowering his blade slightly. "If you want to surrender, just nod. Why call him? If you refuse, he can't save you either!"
"I said call Chen Sanshi."
Deng Feng slowly lifted his head, his gaze full of disdain. "Sha, are you blind and deaf?"
"You!"
Sha Wenlong sneered. "Fine then—let Chen come kill you himself."
When Chen Sanshi heard the news, he came immediately.
"General Deng, it's about time. Why suffer so long for nothing?"
He stepped forward and personally pulled out the thick iron nails from Deng Feng's limbs, one by one, leaving gaping bloody holes. He then undid the snake-like chains of black iron that bound him.
"You…"
Veins bulged on Deng Feng's forehead. Even in agony, he didn't scream. Weakly, he slid off the cross-shaped post, staggering before barely steadying himself. "You're just letting me go? Aren't you afraid I'll suddenly attack and kill you?"
"If you hadn't changed your mind, why bother calling me here?"
Chen Sanshi said evenly, "The war isn't over. With General Deng's help, our odds will increase more than a little."
"Let's make one thing clear first."
Deng Feng's voice was hoarse but firm. "I'm not surrendering to the Sheng Dynasty."
"Then what do you want?"
Chen Sanshi asked. "Name your condition."
"I'll help you."
Deng Feng spoke slowly, "Just like you said—walk your path, and I'll watch. Let's see how you 'cleanse the filth of the world.' But if one day, when you've gained fame and success, you forget what you said today—then I'll take your head myself."
"Good!"
Chen Sanshi agreed without hesitation.
With a sudden thud, Deng Feng dropped to one knee. "Deng Feng greets the Grand Commander!"
"General Deng."
Chen Sanshi quickly stepped forward to help him up. "No need for such ceremony. You're my senior and already at Major Achievement in the Profound Manifestation realm. How could I accept this salute?"
"Times change!"
Deng Feng's voice grew firm again. "Before agreeing to you, I could call your name as I wished. But once I nodded, I must stand in my proper place. That's discipline—it's not about flattery or submission."
"Alright."
Chen Sanshi didn't argue further.
"Can you tell me the current situation?"
Deng Feng paused before adding, "If you can't, forget I asked."
He knew his place. After all, he was still a newly surrendered enemy general. To truly earn a place among the ranks, he'd have to prove himself in battle—to atone through merit.
"Why not?"
Chen Sanshi told him the entire situation without hiding a word.
Never use someone you suspect, and never suspect someone you use.
"Hulao Pass," Deng Feng mused. "Three thousand against a hundred thousand, for three whole months… The Emperor of Sheng must really want Mount Ziwei. So be it. If you believe it can be held, then hold it. Lord, please have my personal armor and confiscated weapons brought here."
"General Deng, shouldn't you rest a few days first?"
Chen Sanshi frowned at the bloody holes all over his body. "Your injuries aren't light."
"It's fine."
Deng Feng replied, "I possess the Primordial Indestructible Body. None of the wounds are fatal. I'll recover my fighting strength soon enough."
The Primordial Indestructible Body—one of the innate Martial Saint constitutions.
Its hallmark was endurance. As long as the body didn't perish outright, it recovered faster than any ordinary physique.
"Alright!"
Chen Sanshi handed him a few healing elixirs from the imperial stores.
Deng Feng didn't bother with politeness. He swallowed them all in one gulp. "These are fine medicines. Once we reach Hulao Pass, I'll be seventy or eighty percent recovered."
Soon after, Zhao Kang and the others returned with Deng Feng's armor, weapons, and clean clothing.
Once dressed, Deng Feng's commanding aura returned instantly. He followed behind Chen Sanshi and stepped out of the tent.
Sha Wenlong nearly doubted his eyes.
"This…"
Even Fang Qingyun was astonished by the sight.
Before the war, he had memorized the dossiers of every notable general in Laizhou—including Deng Feng. By all accounts, a man like him would rather face execution of nine generations than ever surrender.
He truly had no idea what words—or what methods—his junior brother had used to bring such a man to his side. It was nearly unbelievable.
"General Deng, an honor."
Fang Qingyun cupped his hands. "To have your aid in the Battle of Hulao is indeed a blessing for us all."
"And you must be General Fang."
Deng Feng returned the salute. "I've heard much of your name."
"In that case, we should waste no more time here."
"Pass down the order!"
"March!"
"Hulao Pass!"
Tongnan Prefecture.
It was now early March—the season for spring plowing in the eastern region.
Farmers worked in the fields with their families, tilling the muddy soil.
"How was the harvest last year? Did you manage to save any silver?"
The Crown Prince, dressed in coarse linen and leaning on a wooden staff, stood by the field's edge, speaking with an old farmer.
"Last year was a good harvest for Tongnan Prefecture," the old farmer sighed, "but what's the use of that?"
Standing ankle-deep in mud, he shook his head. "First came the spring tax, then the autumn tax. Twice during the year they collected 'suppression taxes.' Then, during winter, when wars broke out, they took more grain for the army. And those are just the ones we know about. There's also the bridge toll, hunting tax, firewood tax, straw sandal tax—even raising chickens, ducks, or geese costs us another fee. Add all the corvée labor on top of that…"
"In a good harvest year, we barely survive. There's not a single copper coin left. And if a drought hits us like in Laizhou's northern region, we'd all starve to death that same year!"
In many areas, irrigation was underdeveloped.
A single prefecture might suffer drought or flood, while its neighbor remained unaffected.
"Wait a moment."
The Crown Prince's expression darkened. "Old man, what did you just say? A tax for raising chickens, ducks, and geese? The Great Sheng Dynasty has no such tax!"
"How can it not?"
The farmer grew angry. "For every chicken raised, we pay a fee! Even the eggs laid by hens—they nearly tax those too!"
"Absurd—absolutely absurd!"
Fury flashed across the Crown Prince's face.
He gripped his staff and hobbled toward his guards. "The firewood and hunting taxes in the southeast—weren't they abolished four years ago? And now a poultry tax? Where did that come from?! Not a single coin from such taxes reaches the national treasury! Which local official dares to pull this off?! Go investigate! Investigate—cough, cough, cough—"
By the end, his breath grew ragged.
"Your Highness…"
His personal guard, Han Yan, looked troubled. "Do we really need to investigate? Even the boldest local official wouldn't pocket all that silver openly. It must be the Yan faction's doing. And above them… well, Your Highness knows how vast His Majesty's yearly expenses are. Just the Seeking Immortals Tower and alchemy costs alone take up over one-third of annual revenue…"
"It must still be investigated!"
The Crown Prince's voice shook with anger. "Investigate!!"
"Yes, Your Highness! I'll look into it immediately!"
Han Yan bowed quickly. "Anyone we find, we execute! One by one, if we must! Please, Your Highness, calm yourself—your health is what matters most!"
"Go now!"
"Y-yes!"
Han Yan hurried off at once.
"Your Highness, why get so angry?"
A black-robed monk approached swiftly.
"It's nothing… nothing," the Crown Prince panted, struggling to catch his breath. "Speak."
"There's been… a problem with the incense offerings."
The black-robed monk spoke softly, "People below report that there's a wandering hero in the martial world calling himself Laizitou—the Scabby-Headed Knight. He's been destroying our incense altars everywhere he goes. And it seems his mastery over incense power is frighteningly high—no matter how strong the incense aura, he can grab it with one hand and refine it completely in an instant!"
"The worst part is, this Zhang Laizitou seems to know about our operation."
"Who leaked it?"
The Crown Prince didn't panic. After a brief thought, he said calmly, "Since this Master Zhang hasn't exposed us yet, that means he's not interested in these affairs. He's likely a man of great cultivation. As long as we don't offend him, there's nothing to worry about. In fact, we should try to recruit him—he could become a great help to us."
"Understood."
The monk bowed slightly. "This poor monk understands."
"Old Yao, wait a moment."
The Crown Prince raised a trembling hand, signaling him to stop.
"What else does Your Highness command?"
"Old Yao."
The Crown Prince leaned heavily on his staff, taking a few deep breaths before speaking in a low tone. "Tell me—what is the real cost of the Evil God Path?"
"Cost?"
The monk's eyes flickered with unease. "Just that it consumes a great deal more incense than usual. Your Highness already knows that, does he not?"
"Speak the truth."
The Crown Prince gazed into the distant horizon. "I'm not blind. The Tongtian Dragon King rites, the Nanshan Mountain God sacrifices, the river offerings… all of them were orchestrated by you, weren't they? The so-called 'price' of the Evil God Path—is it human lives?"
"This monk deceived Your Highness—an unforgivable sin."
The black-robed monk lowered his head. "But Your Highness must understand, this is a necessary step in cultivating the Evil God Path. Without periodic human sacrifice, the Evil God becomes wrathful, and those who serve him will suffer backlash."
"I knew it."
The Crown Prince gave a bitter, self-mocking laugh. "There's no such thing as a cheap path to power in this world."
He looked down at the farmers laboring in the fields, their figures small against the green plains, and fell into a long, heavy silence.
"Amitabha. Your Highness need not blame yourself," the monk said softly. "All of this was arranged by me alone. The sin rests solely on my shoulders. As they say, 'If I do not enter hell, who will?' Compared to the ten days of Yunzhou, these sacrifices are but a drop in the ocean."
"When Your Highness ascends the throne and sweeps away corruption, restoring clarity and justice to the Great Sheng Dynasty, these souls will have died for compassion. In their next lives, they will surely find good fortune."
The Crown Prince did not respond.
He walked forward slowly and helped an old woodcutter who nearly tripped on the uneven path. Only when no one was nearby did he sigh heavily and say, "Go and do it."
"Amitabha."
The black-robed monk bowed again. "Your Highness, now that Laizhou is secure, there are many other prefectures available. If you would allow more sacrifices, perhaps your lifespan could be extended. Your body…"
"Enough!"
The Crown Prince turned sharply, wind whipping at his sleeves. He slammed his staff against the ground twice. "How many times must I tell you? I don't care about ten thousand generations of longevity! I only wish to use what's left of my life to restore the glory of the Cao family's empire!"
"This monk will never mention it again," the black-robed monk said quickly.
"Thud…"
The Crown Prince's staff slipped from his grasp as he slowly sank to his knees. His forehead struck the muddy ground with a dull bang, leaving a deep imprint. His voice trembled as his eyes reddened. "My Cao family owes the people too much…"
"Starting next year, all regions in the east involved in temple offerings will be exempt from taxes for five years. Let them rest and recover."
"Amitabha, Your Highness is truly a Bodhisattva reborn."
The monk pressed his palms together, bowed, and then turned to leave.
Yongle Prefecture.
A brutal siege had erupted.
"Boom—!"
Martial Saint Meng Quji was the first to ascend the wall, spear in hand. With a single strike, his terrifying strength blasted apart five or six Qing soldiers into a rain of blood and bone, their limbs flying like shattered ice across the battlements.
"Meng Quji! Die!"
Prince Tang, Li Gong, appeared suddenly from the flank, swinging his Black Armored Kanglong Mace with a roar.
"Boom—!"
Two overwhelming forces collided like crashing mountains, sending shockwaves through the air. The stone beneath their feet shattered inch by inch, leaving a massive crater in the city wall.
Moments later, Meng Quji was forced to retreat. The Great Sheng army sounded the horn to withdraw, and both sides ceased fighting for the day.
"That bastard Meng deserves to die!"
Li Gong cursed furiously as he strode toward the central command tent. "In the middle of battle, he even scattered lime dust! A Martial Saint resorting to children's tricks—how shameless can one get!"
"Indeed," said Vice General Liu Huanrong, following close behind. "The powder he used was laced with poison. You may be fine, Your Highness, but the soldiers nearby suffered greatly."
"He came from the streets—a common thug turned general!"
Li Gong sneered. "Even with his current rank, he's still the same shameless scoundrel he always was."
"But after today's skirmish, he should realize that a full assault won't work," Liu Huanrong said, tucking his iron helmet under his arm. "Your Highness, perhaps we should—"
"Report!"
A messenger ran in, interrupting them. "News from the Southern Xu Kingdom! Their army has reached Lingzhou's Mount Ziwei. In three to five days, their vanguard will arrive outside Hulao Pass!"
"Hmm."
Li Gong kept walking, his face thoughtful. "And the Sheng forces? How are they deploying? Using Zhaotong Prefecture as the dividing line for a long stalemate?"
"No, Your Highness."
The soldier replied, "They've sent 3,000 men to defend Hulao Pass."
"3,000 men—to hold Hulao Pass?"
Li Gong stopped dead in his tracks. "Are you sure? Or did Fan Tianfa abandon Green Ridge Mountain to go there himself?"
"Absolutely certain!"
The messenger said firmly, "Their high-ranking generals are short-handed. For now, the one commanding Hulao Pass is Chen Sanshi, assisted by Fang Qingyun and Sha Wenlong. Judging by the timeline, they should be arriving at Hulao soon."
"Who? Chen Sanshi again?"
Li Gong's expression hardened. He could not afford to underestimate this name.
But no matter how hard he thought, Li Gong still couldn't figure out how a single Meridian-Connecting cultivator could lead 3,000 men to hold off an army of 100,000, not to mention four generals at the Profound Manifestation realm.
The more he thought about it, the clearer it became.
The Sheng Dynasty's deployment meant only one thing—they had reached the end of their rope. No more soldiers, no more choices.
They were determined to reclaim Mount Ziwei at any cost.
And when a side starts talking about "no matter the cost," it means they're gambling everything.
And gamblers, sooner or later, lose it all.
"The Sheng people have gone mad! Do they take everyone else for fools?"
Li Gong sneered, "Chen Sanshi is just a Meridian-Connecting cultivator, Sha Wenlong barely stepped into the Profound Manifestation realm, and Fang Qingyun—crippled for years—might have a bit of hidden strength, but still, those three defending Hulao Pass? What a joke!"
"Send word to Fan Shuzhen in Lingzhou. Tell him Hulao Pass is guarded by only 3,000 men. Order him to march immediately and launch a full assault!"
"The faster we take Hulao, the greater our gains. Reclaiming the three eastern prefectures is just the start. Once Meng Quji dies, we'll have a 90% chance of taking the Sheng Dynasty's five eastern prefectures as well. Those five are fertile lands along the Tongtian River—a treasure worth any cost!"
Lingzhou.
A massive army of 100,000 surged through Mount Ziwei into the open plains beyond. The ranks stretched endlessly, like a colossal dragon crawling from the depths of the earth, its head and tail both lost to the horizon.
This northern campaign was led by five top commanders.
1. Main Commander – Eighth Prince Fan Shuzhen.
2. Deputy Commander – Marquis of Qinghe, You Jingzhi.
3. General and Chief Strategist – "Ling Suan" Ran Jingxuan.
4. Field General – Peng Yunheng.
5. Fourteenth Prince – Fan Jiaxiao.
In the central camp, three of these leaders had gathered to discuss their next move.
"This northern expedition," Fan Shuzhen declared, "our main goal is to seize Lingzhou—this rich and vital land!"
"Of course, if we can take all five of the Sheng Dynasty's eastern prefectures, all the better. After more than 300 years of hoarding thirty-six fertile provinces, the Sheng must finally cough up a few!"
"Sheng or Qing—doesn't matter to us," Fan Shuzhen continued, his golden armor gleaming under the torchlight. "We serve whoever pays more. Just don't go thinking we're here to die for Qing's sake. For now, Qing offers the best deal—and with Sun Xiangzong missing, this is our golden opportunity!"
"Indeed, Eighth Highness," You Jingzhi said, looking down at the map spread before them. "Though I wonder… will the Sheng army even stay to fight? At this point, retreat would make far more sense for them."
"Even if they retreat," Fan Shuzhen said coldly, "Qing must still cede Lingzhou to us. 100,000 troops didn't march all this way for nothing!"
Ran Jingxuan, the famed strategist known as Ling Suan, spoke evenly, his tone calm but precise. "Eighth Highness, Marquis You, I've already made arrangements. Whatever happens next, we'll secure our advantage. Let me show you the two possible outcomes I've analyzed…"
Before he could continue, a sharp cry pierced the sky.
"Chirp—!"
A hawk dove through the clouds, dropping a sealed scroll into the camp.
Ran Jingxuan caught it, broke the seal, and read it quickly.
"What?"
"The Sheng have gone insane?"
"They're defending Hulao Pass? With only 3,000 troops?!"
"How little do they think of us?"
"Chen Sanshi as commander, Fang Qingyun as deputy—interesting!"
Fan Shuzhen lowered the report, his eyes narrowing. "What do you both think?"
Ran Jingxuan smiled faintly. "No need to explain Fang Qingyun—we know him well. As for this Chen Sanshi, in just two or three years, he's won battle after battle—remarkable feats. His river-crossing with refugees was already famous. But when he crossed the Hongze four times and made the enemy flee before his white banners, he became the talk of the world.
"For a hundred years, few in all under heaven have outshone him in a single year."
He paused. "But still… what is the Sheng Emperor thinking? No matter how gifted this Chen Sanshi is, he's still a Meridian-Connecting cultivator. 3,000 men at his command, defending Hulao Pass? That's suicide."
"I agree."
Fan Shuzhen tapped his fingers rhythmically against the map. "Could it be that the Sheng Emperor truly values Mount Ziwei that much?"
"It makes sense," You Jingzhi said thoughtfully. "Mount Ziwei was where the Sheng's founding Emperor performed the Heaven-Sealing Ceremony. The shame of Mingxuan's defeat still lingers. Every emperor since then has dreamed of reclaiming Ziwei to restore their dynasty's honor."
"Not quite."
Ran Jingxuan narrowed his eyes. "You've forgotten one thing. Emperor Longqing's obsession with immortality—and the many legends about Sheng's founder, Cao Xie. Could it be that some relic of the Cao family still lies hidden on Mount Ziwei?"
"Now that you mention it," You Jingzhi muttered, "it's possible. But Ziwei has been under Qing control for over a hundred years. Any treasure would've been taken long ago."
"Not necessarily."
Ran Jingxuan smiled faintly. "If the Sheng Emperor is this desperate, it suggests there's still something there. Or maybe I'm overthinking it, and he just wants the glory of a 'Restoration Emperor.'"
"Either way," Fan Shuzhen said, standing, "we'll make use of it. Send orders to Peng Yunheng—search Mount Ziwei. If he finds anything, good. If not, no matter."
"The situation is clear enough. Strategist Ran, begin your deployment."
"Understood."
Ran Jingxuan—the famed "Ling Suan"—swept his arm over the map.
"General Peng will hold Mount Ziwei and secure the rear while searching for any treasures.
"Marquis You will take a detachment to seize Lingzhou's key cities. No matter how this war ends, Lingzhou must not be returned to the Qing.
"Eighth Highness will remain at central command for coordination.
"And send word to Fourteenth Highness—set camp fifty li outside Hulao Pass.
"Once all forces are ready…
"The Great Xu's 100,000 troops will march straight to Hulao Pass!"