Buzz—
Through the ancient teleportation array, Chen Sanshi returned to The Edge of the World.
After confirming that the Mirror God Fruit was intact, he finally exhaled softly. The process had been full of twists and turns, but at least the goal was achieved.
After leaving Red Ridge Mountain, he didn't immediately bring the Xi Bi Fish to Wei Xuan to exchange for the fruit.
After all, Wei Xuan's bounty was public. Once he turned in the fish, word would spread everywhere.
Under those circumstances, if Chen Sanshi went to the black market, it would be like walking into a crowd with a brick of gold in hand. Besides, the route wasn't convenient. So, he first went shopping for supplies, planning to complete the trade when leaving the market and escape at once.
In the end, he hadn't been the one tracked—Wei Xuan had. And the one tailing him turned out to be a Law Enforcement Hall officer.
These cultivators… were worse than bandits.
Chen Sanshi looked back at the ancient teleportation array, now dim and lifeless. From its state, he could tell that no one would be able to chase him for a while.
The seal of this world might be wavering, but it still existed. The cultivators from Heavenly Water Isle couldn't flood into the Eastern Divine Continent in large numbers. They could only cross through when the seal weakened at specific time intervals, or by using a jade token tied to the ancient teleportation formation.
In truth, that was exactly what the cultivators of the Immortal Realm had been doing all along.
The Immortal Realm was vast and boundless. Daze Market was just one of countless strongholds. From the way Old Li spoke, there were countless sects and clans beyond—each no doubt scheming to enter the Divine Continent in search of the so-called spiritual veins.
And judging from their enormous bounties, it seemed they might have already found something.
"You're covered in blood," a voice said.
Zhao Zhao, who had been waiting near the teleportation array, looked behind him nervously to check for pursuers. "Did you kill someone?"
"Yeah."
Chen Sanshi's expression didn't change.
That single trip had made him infamous in Daze Market. If he ever wanted to return there, he'd need to use Art of Disguise and alter his face.
Leaving The Edge of the World, he traveled back south to the small city of Southern Xu to regroup with Qin Changxu and the others.
"Grand Commander."
Qin Changxu stepped forward and saluted. "Something's happened!"
"Does it involve immortals?" Chen Sanshi asked immediately.
Qin Changxu blinked, surprised. "How did Grand Commander know?" He quickly continued, "Not long after you left for The Edge of the World, I received a message from Northern Liang. The Western Qi Kingdom, together with several immortal masters, has launched an invasion from the west through Mu Prefecture. They've already breached our Great Sheng borders and are advancing straight toward Luo Prefecture."
"Mu Prefecture's Great Wall is sturdy, and its garrison is strong. If I'm not mistaken, after the Mount Ziwei Rebellion, a newly advanced Martial Saint was even sent there to hold the line. How could it fall so quickly?"
"Because of the immortals?" Chen Sanshi asked.
"Exactly."
Qin Changxu's face was grim. "According to the reports, it's impossible to fight back. The Western Qi armies have immortals who can fly on swords. They sneak in during the dead of night, carrying out decapitation strikes—killing generals before vanishing into the sky. Our soldiers are helpless against them.
"On top of that, the Western Qi Kingdom has been rebuilding its strength for years. The damage from the Mingzhou Rebellion has been mostly recovered—seventy to eighty percent at least. This time, they've mobilized the entire nation, claiming to have an army of five hundred thousand marching in full force."
"Mu Prefecture and Luo Prefecture… what a strange warfront."
Chen Sanshi frowned. "The eight western prefectures together hold at least two hundred thousand of our Commander-in-Chief Army. Are they still being redeployed? What about the Liangzhou forces?"
"Most of the Northern Liang troops have been moved east!" Qin Changxu replied quickly. "The Eastern Qing Kingdom has also mobilized, throwing countless soldiers to the border. They too have immortal masters helping them. Southern Xu is the same—our troops have already clashed several times with forces under the Prince of Zhen'nan."
"Eastern Qing…" Chen Sanshi murmured. "Shen Guiyi, is it?"
He calculated silently.
Barely after driving back the northern barbarians, the east, west, and south had all launched simultaneous invasions.
There was only one possible explanation.
They had found the spiritual vein.
And most likely—it was within the Great Sheng Dynasty's borders.
According to the laws of the cultivation world, whichever power occupied the territory when a spiritual vein revived would claim it as their own. No wonder the world had erupted into chaos.
The immortals had shifted their war onto mortal soil.
Regardless of who won, all nations would bleed their strength dry—and it would be the common folk who paid the price.
"Northern Liang's troops are to the east," Chen Sanshi said. "What's my current assignment?"
"None, for now," Qin Changxu replied cautiously. "When the war first began, they did send someone to ask for your strategic advice. But upon learning that you were in seclusion, they decided not to disturb you further.
"Right now, Liangzhou City is held only by the Hongze Battalion.
"The rest of Northern Liang's forces, led by General Lü and Pei Tiannan, are confronting Eastern Qing."
"So," Chen Sanshi said dryly, "while I'm in seclusion, the court isn't urging me to return—they're actually encouraging me to stay out of it?"
"At the moment, yes," Qin Changxu admitted after a pause. "May I share my own view?"
"Go ahead." Chen Sanshi led his horse forward. "Say what you think."
"The court doesn't want you to keep earning more merits."
Qin Changxu's voice was low and serious. "Grand Commander, you're just over twenty, already titled Marquis of the Champion. With your current position, if you achieve another major victory, there'll be no higher rank left to grant you.
"The court isn't unwilling to use you…
"It's that they no longer dare to."
"Whether they use me or not doesn't matter," Chen Sanshi said evenly. "What I'm worried about is the western front. Who's commanding the Western Qi army? Tell me in detail."
"The nominal commander is Zhong Wuxin," Qin Changxu said. "Grand Commander, you must remember him from the Mingzhou campaign. But this time, the true strategist leading Western Qi's army is known as the War Immortal."
Qin Changxu paused for a moment before continuing. "Oh, not the 'War Immortal' Yu Shanggong from the history books—this one's an immortal. His surname is Han, given name Xiang. Rumor has it, he came from another world. Back in the mortal realm, he unified seven nations under his rule and earned the title of War Immortal there. Later, he stepped onto the Immortal Path and became an immortal master. This time, he's the one commanding the Western Qi army in full."
"These reports weren't even hard to find," Qin added. "Western Qi made sure everyone heard of it. After all, our Great Sheng Dynasty has you, Grand Commander. If they didn't find someone with an even louder name, their army's morale would never rise, let alone fight."
Unified seven kingdoms…
Chen Sanshi couldn't help but think that the people who came from the mortal world to the cultivation realm were truly diverse. But to reach the step of seeking immortality, they must have been extraordinary figures in their own worlds. Just like Wei Xuan—he had once been the top martial hero of his era.
"Go and gather more detailed intelligence," Chen Sanshi ordered. "I want a full map of the Commander-in-Chief Army's troop deployments and the enemy's marching routes. Don't make a single mistake. When you're done, bring it to me."
Qin Changxu bowed.
Time passed quietly.
A round trip like that—and before they knew it, half a year had gone by.
The weather had turned scorching. Especially here in Southern Xu, the air was damp and heavy. Sweat soaked their clothes, clinging uncomfortably to their skin.
For martial cultivators, such weather didn't hinder training, but no one liked it.
Southern Xu was already engaged in localized battles with the Prince of Zhen'nan's forces.
Thankfully, it hadn't yet reached the Liangshan Marsh region, allowing them to move unhindered. Meanwhile, the negotiations for pacification were proceeding smoothly. Before long, Liangshan Marsh would be officially absorbed under the Great Sheng Dynasty, permitted to keep twenty thousand troops stationed in Mang Mountain Prefecture.
Once Qin Changxu compiled all the details, he brought over the marked map.
"Grand Commander, please take a look."
He pointed at the chart. "After Mu Prefecture and Luo Prefecture fell, the court ordered the western Commander-in-Chief Army to advance at full speed.
"The commander-in-chief is Tong Xiaochu—a descendant of one of the Twelve Generals of the Qilin Pavilion, who were rewarded by the Founding Emperor himself.
"Previously, he served under the former Crown Prince's Tiger Guards. After the Mount Ziwei Rebellion, not only was he not punished, but His Majesty even rewarded him with an elixir. He later broke through to the Martial Saint realm. Together with another Martial Saint, Teng Le, one of the royal death guards, they now serve as the commander and deputy commander, leading the Commander-in-Chief Army.
"Also, our Great Sheng has immortal masters as well.
"One is Qu Yuanxiang—you've met him before in Liangzhou.
"The other came from the capital, named Wang Jun.
"Like Western Qi, our army's real leaders are these two immortal masters.
"After they arrived, the Western Qi immortals had to stop their decapitation raids. Both sides returned to normal battlefield operations.
"At present, our army has reached the Luo River. The Western Qi forces are entrenched and won't come out.
"The war has entered a stalemate.
"The Commander-in-Chief Army is advancing cautiously and has now set up camp in the Yiling region, waiting for the right opportunity…"
"Wait!"
Chen Sanshi suddenly interrupted. "Where did you say they set up camp?"
"Here—Yiling," Qin Changxu replied, placing his finger on a heavily forested area of the map. "It's the height of June's heat. The generals can handle it, but the soldiers are suffering. So they built their camp in Yiling to avoid direct sun exposure and stay close to a good water source."
"The Commander-in-Chief Army is doomed," Chen Sanshi said grimly.
Qin Changxu blinked. "What?"
Chen Sanshi sighed. "Send a letter immediately. Tell them to withdraw from Yiling at once—if they move fast, they might still make it. If they delay, the whole army will be wiped out."
Qin Changxu didn't understand, but he didn't question Chen Sanshi's judgment for a second. He immediately went to write the message.
—
The capital.
Within the Marquis of Martial Peace's estate, in a quiet courtyard, Fang Qingyun sat opposite the Twelfth Prince, Cao Zhi, playing chess.
When the match ended, Cao Zhi shook his head with a sigh. "Lost again. That's one hundred matches, and I haven't won a single one against you, General Fang."
"Your Highness improves quickly," Fang Qingyun said mildly as he sorted the chess pieces. "You're losing less each time. One day, you'll win. Cough, cough…"
"General Fang, you've been looking worse lately," Cao Zhi said, tossing a white piece in the air and catching it. "Shall I summon the Imperial Physicians from the Grand Medical Bureau to take a look at you?"
"It's useless."
Fang Qingyun shook his head, covering his mouth with his fist as he coughed a few more times before calming himself. "It's an old injury from years ago. It's long settled deep into my meridians and lungs. No cure. I won't live many more years."
"Truly, Heaven is jealous of talent," Cao Zhi said, his tone tinged with pity. "With the battle in Luo Prefecture breaking out so suddenly, I was considering asking you to take command there. But it seems better for you to remain here in the capital to rest."
"Immortal wars are beyond me," Fang Qingyun said calmly. "A cripple like me would be of no use. Best to leave it to those still capable."
He placed the last black stone into the basket. "Let those with strength handle it."
"You mean Grand Commander Chen?" Cao Zhi asked, chewing on a piece of candied fruit, sitting with casual disregard for decorum. "I thought the same. But it seems the Cabinet intends to promote new talent instead. They don't plan to deploy him—or the Hongze Battalion."
"The Cabinet…" Fang Qingyun gave a faint smile.
"They're afraid," Cao Zhi continued, shrugging. "Afraid that my elder brother's military merits will grow too great to control. But honestly? It's unnecessary."
"Oh?" Fang Qingyun teased. "If Your Highness were in charge of court affairs, you'd trust my little junior completely?"
"Trust?" Cao Zhi laughed. "I'd do more than that. If it were up to me, why hide away a man like him? Let him fight! First crush Western Qi, then strike Southern Xu! Give him command of half the empire's armies! Make my elder brother Duke of the Realm, then grant him the title of King with a different surname. Let him guard the northern frontier for life.
"As for you, General Fang, and your comrades in Liangzhou—serve if you wish, retire if you prefer. When it's all over, it'll be a legend for the ages."
"Your Highness," Fang Qingyun said softly, "bargaining with me won't help. The people of the Grand Commander's Office hold no power in court. We can't assist Your Highness with anything."
"Oh, come now," Cao Zhi grinned. "That's not how you should put it."
Cao Zhi leaned back in the rattan chair, one leg crossed over the other. He plucked a blade of grass, bit it lazily between his teeth, and said slowly, "What's the use of power alone? The most valuable thing in this world is great talent. With true talent, how could one ever lack a realm or a nation?"
"You certainly sound like a wise and humble prince, Your Highness," Fang Qingyun replied with a faint smile. Then he paused and added, "But if things truly went as you say—wouldn't it keep you awake at night, knowing there's an unparalleled Martial Saint commanding troops on the frontier?"
"Short-sighted, aren't we?"
Cao Zhi tilted his head toward the sky. "General Fang should know a saying—'One must have righteous cause when raising troops.' When the whole world knows that the court honors a minister, bestows countless favors upon him, and treats him with utmost respect—if he then rebels, it's the same as admitting to everyone that his past loyalty was a lie. Such a man could never gain the 'mandate of Heaven.' Especially when that man is famed throughout the land for his benevolence and righteousness.
"Those two words—'benevolence' and 'righteousness'—are powerful tools for winning hearts. But they are also the heaviest shackles a man can wear.
"A general who willingly puts such chains around his own neck—he's a loyal servant for the ages, incapable of betrayal.
"Oh, that's actually one of my elder brother's theories of warfare.
'War is the art of momentum.'
"So you see, I never quite understand why those Cabinet fools spend their days full of suspicion. Maybe they just offended the Grand Commander's Office too many times before, and now they're afraid of payback."
Fang Qingyun's gaze grew more serious as he looked at the prince. "Your Highness, for one so young, you see things quite clearly."
"That's why," Cao Zhi said, sitting up and picking up a chess piece, "I've never feared your Grand Commander's Office. Especially after my elder brother's name spread across the world—there's nothing left to fear. People from your office will always be loyal and righteous. For generations, you've been the pillars of Great Sheng."
"Of course," Fang Qingyun said, gesturing politely. "Please, Your Highness. Let's play another game—our one hundred and first match."
"Another day," Cao Zhi yawned, stretching his arms. "I'm heading to the palace. With three nations surrounding us and danger pressing from all sides, how could those idiots in the Cabinet possibly hold the line? I'll need to argue with them again—make sure they bring my elder brother back to lead."
—
Wanshou Palace.
"Your Majesty."
Chief Eunuch Huang Hong hurried in, bowing low. "Your Majesty, the Prince of Zhen'nan has finally succeeded. After consuming the 'Undying Grass' and the elixirs gifted by the Shengyun Sect, and training for half a year, he has achieved full success."
Behind the curtains, beneath the golden dais, spiritual stones and gathering arrays glimmered softly.
Emperor Longqing sat cross-legged within, regulating the lingering foul qi in his meridians. His eyes slowly opened. "So, the Dragon Scripture is real?"
"It should be," Huang Hong replied, kneeling. "But this servant could never master it. My meridians twisted and ruptured each time I tried, nearly crippling myself. I didn't dare continue, and wasted a treasure of heaven and earth—this servant deserves death.
"It seems… the Dragon Scripture can only be cultivated by those of utterly exceptional talent."
"How fares Luo Prefecture?" Emperor Longqing asked.
"Everything proceeds as Your Majesty commanded," Huang Hong said. "Two disciples from the Shengyun Sect have been sent to assist. Tong Xiaochu commands the army personally, leading the Western Expedition to reclaim the two lost prefectures from Western Qi."
"The Tong family," Longqing murmured, "have been loyal for ten generations. Those old founding families have been silent for a century—this is their chance. I hope they do not disappoint me."
He stood, his tone hardening. "After this war, I will no longer bow to those so-called immortal masters. If this campaign fails, Eastern Qing and Southern Xu will strike together. So no matter the cost, Luo Prefecture and Mount Mang must be taken back."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Huang Hong bowed low. "I will visit the Zhongjue Hall and fetch the Sixth Prince's military plans and the War Ministry's arrangements for Your Majesty's review."
—
Zhongjue Hall.
Inside, the Sixth Prince, Cao Huan, sat with Grand Secretary Yan Liang, Minister of War Ming Qingfeng, and every other senior Cabinet minister.
Before them stretched a massive war map and a sand table several zhang long.
"We'll gather more Tiger Guards and Black-Armored Troops from the capital," Ming Qingfeng said, issuing orders in a calm, steady tone. "Keep them ready to deploy for support at any moment. Also, order the commanders of the southwest and northwest regions to prepare. If necessary, abandon a few prefectures to reinforce Yiling."
Another officer rushed in, kneeling to report the latest news from the front.
"Good. Excellent."
Cao Huan read the report, smiling broadly. "Once the immortal masters Wang Jun and Qu Yuanxiang arrived, they stabilized the front at once. They've destroyed several Western Qi camps in succession.
"Now, the Western Qi army has been holed up for two months, too scared to come out.
"General Tong and his forces are advancing steadily. They've encamped at Yiling Mountain to rest and avoid the heat.
"Once autumn comes and the waters of the Luo River fall, Western Qi's waterborne grain routes will be crippled. When that happens, our army can strike with full force—not only reclaiming Luo and Mu Prefectures, but even pushing straight into Western Qi territory!"
"Excellent!"
Minister of Personnel Yin Mingchun clapped his hands. "Western Qi will never have expected that we, too, command immortal masters!"
"Indeed," Minister Yan Maoxing laughed. "They bragged about hiring some so-called 'War Immortal' from another world, one who unified seven nations! Turns out, all noise and no thunder. Tong Xiaochu's army crushed them so hard they haven't dared show their faces in two months!"
"War Immortal? More like Turtle Immortal!" Yin Mingchun jeered, earning laughter from the gathered officials.
"As long as the front remains steady," Ming Qingfeng said with a respectful bow toward Wanshou Palace, "this battle could secure Great Sheng's dominance for the next twenty years. It's also a perfect opportunity to train new generals."
"Well said," Yin Mingchun agreed. "That Chen Sanshi still refuses to come to the capital. Clearly, his heart lies elsewhere. Under such circumstances, he absolutely must not be allowed to achieve further merit."
"Mourning for his master? Hah!" Yan Maoxing snorted. "In my eyes, that's just an excuse to hoard power!"
"Hmm." Ming Qingfeng stroked his beard. "Once this war is won, he'll finally see that our Great Sheng Dynasty doesn't depend on a single general to fight. He'll learn his place soon enough.
"Now—what news from Liangzhou?"
"He's still in seclusion," the soldier reported.
"Let him stay there," someone scoffed. "We won't be needing him for this battle anyway."
"That's inappropriate!"
As the officials murmured among themselves, a loud, firm voice suddenly echoed through the hall.
The Twelfth Prince, Cao Zhi, strode in with quick, decisive steps. "My proposal," he declared, "is to immediately summon General Chen to the front. For this battle, it would be best if General Chen led his Hongze Battalion to Yiling at once."
"Twelfth Brother?"
Cao Huan, the Sixth Prince, looked surprised. "What do you mean by that?"
"This matter is grave," Cao Zhi replied, pointing his sheathed saber toward the sand table. "Eastern Qing and Southern Xu are both sitting on the sidelines, watching. The moment Great Sheng suffers a defeat in the west, they'll strike together. Then we'll be facing the combined forces of three nations! Even if we have one million troops in total, we'll still be weaker than their combined might."
"Your Highness, please wait," said Minister of War Ming Qingfeng, interrupting. "We all understand the stakes. But the frontlines are currently stable under General Tong and the two immortal masters. Once autumn comes, victory will be assured. Why rush to call Chen Sanshi?"
"It's simple," Cao Zhi said, spreading his hands. "In all Great Sheng, no one surpasses General Chen in the art of war. This battle is too important. Only by sending him can we guarantee absolute success."
"Your Highness seems to overestimate Chen Sanshi," Ming Qingfeng said, tapping the war map. "Look here. Even without him, our army is winning every engagement. We already have the upper hand. All we need now is to wait for the right moment to strike."
"And who is this Han Xiang of Western Qi?" Cao Zhi countered. "He's a man who once destroyed seven kingdoms! Do any of you truly think he'll sit quietly and wait to die?"
He looked around the hall. "Let our Great Sheng's War Saint meet their War Immortal. That's the match this world deserves."
"Your Highness," Ming Qingfeng said sternly, his face tense, "I must speak plainly. The War Ministry's arrangements for this campaign were not made to sideline Chen Sanshi, nor out of jealousy or fear of talent. He and I share no enmity. I gain nothing by opposing him.
"I chose not to deploy him for the sake of the empire.
"Think back through a thousand years of history—has any dynasty ever survived by depending on one single man?
"If we continue like this, what will the world think of us?
"To be blunt, Your Highness—are you implying that without Chen Sanshi, our Great Sheng Dynasty is doomed to fall?!"
Cao Zhi's expression didn't change. He simply replied with two calm words: "Hard to say."
Ming Qingfeng's face flushed red with anger. "Your Highness, such words—how could you…" But bound by court etiquette, he dared not argue further.
"Twelfth Brother, you go too far!"
Finally, Cao Huan spoke in a deep voice. "No one here denies General Chen's brilliance. His command skill is unmatched. But as Minister Ming said, no empire can rely on one man alone.
"If anyone must be relied upon—it should be His Majesty, our father."
"Twelfth Prince," said Minister Yan Maoxing, stepping in diplomatically, "we understand your concern for the realm, but there's no need to worry. Let us wait quietly for victory. The army will bring good news soon enough."
Cao Zhi clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Very well then, gentlemen. Do as you please."
—
Yiling. Commander-in-Chief Army. Central Command Tent.
Pffft—!
Qu Yuanxiang, sitting in the command seat, spat out his mouthful of wine and slammed the jug onto the floor. "What kind of trash wine is this? You dare insult your immortal master with this swill?!"
"Please, Immortal Master, calm your anger!" a trembling soldier stammered. "This is already the finest spirit wine made from alchemical herbs, reserved only for generals of the Profound Manifestation level and above! We mortals have nothing better!"
"I don't care—find me something decent!"
Qu Yuanxiang roared, hurling the wine jar straight into the man's chest. "If you can't find me wine worth drinking by tonight, I'll chop off your dog head myself!"
"Y-yes, yes!"
Blood streamed down the soldier's forehead, but he dared not utter a word. He bowed repeatedly and fled the tent.
"Damn it! I fight their battles, bleed for them, and they can't even offer a decent drink!" Qu Yuanxiang cursed, pacing irritably.
Beside him, Wang Jun—who had been sitting quietly with his eyes closed—finally opened them and shot him a cold glance. "Noisy."
"Am I wrong?" Qu Yuanxiang glared. "If not for the two of us, these so-called generals would've lost their heads long ago!"
"Once we seize Mount Mang's ancestral vein, we'll have our Foundation Establishment Pills," Wang Jun said coldly. "Focus. This battle matters to us as much as it does to them."
—
Outside the main tent stood another, smaller in size but deliberately raised higher—a subtle show of hierarchy.
"This is outrageous!" Deputy General Teng Le slammed his hand on the hilt of his saber, pacing back and forth furiously. "That drunkard immortal insults and beats our soldiers every day! Even you and I get treated like dirt!
"It's as if he doesn't even see us as human!"
"They're immortal masters," Tong Xiaochu said evenly, eating his meal while studying the map in front of him. "Future immortals with hopes of longevity. It's only natural they look down on us."
"That may be so," Teng Le muttered, still fuming, "but—"
Tong Xiaochu didn't let him finish. "How's the situation with Western Qi?"
"The same as before," Teng Le replied. "No matter how we provoke or challenge them, they refuse to come out. Looks like we won't be pushing forward anytime soon."
"No matter," Tong Xiaochu said calmly. "That's exactly what we planned for."
Tong Xiaochu set down his bowl and chopsticks. "In another two to three months, the enemy will retreat five hundred li due to grain shortages. When that happens, we'll seize the momentum and crush them in one stroke. Start preparing now—mobilize twenty thousand troops from this position—"
Before he could finish laying out his plan, a soldier burst into the command tent in a panic.
"What is it?"
Tong Xiaochu frowned. "How many times have I said it? Soldiers must remain calm no matter the situation. With that attitude, how do you expect to lead men someday? Speak. Is there a transfer order from the War Ministry?"
"No, sir."
The soldier raised an unopened letter with both hands. "A sealed message from the Grand Commander's Office of Liangzhou."
"The Grand Commander's Office?"
Tong Xiaochu paused, brows furrowing. "What's Chen Sanshi doing sending a letter now? This battle has nothing to do with him."
"It's marked with the golden seal, sir. Only the commander-in-chief is authorized to read it."
The soldier added, "A message of this level must concern the overall strategy of the war."
"I am the commander of this campaign!" Tong Xiaochu snapped, glaring at the golden insignia as if it were an insult. "Does he think he has the right to instruct me now?!"
"Commander," Teng Le interjected carefully, "why not at least take a look? General Chen is a master of strategy. His advice could be valuable for such an important battle."
"Oh? So you're implying I know nothing of war?"
Tong Xiaochu snorted. "Go look at the Qilin Pavilion beside the Founding Emperor Shrine at Ziwei Mountain! My Tong ancestors were ranked fourth among the Twelve Generals—renowned for their strategy even three hundred years ago!
"I'll admit, that Chen fellow is talented.
"But my sword is no dull blade either!"
With that, he held the letter over the candle flame, letting it catch fire from the bottom, and then casually tossed it to the ground.
"Teng Le, take five hundred light cavalry and follow me out of Yiling. We're scouting the terrain up front!"
"This…" Teng Le hesitated but eventually nodded. "Yes, I'll make the arrangements."
As soon as Teng Le and his men disappeared into the darkness, leaving the tent empty, Tong Xiaochu quickly stomped out the small flame, crouched down, and carefully retrieved the half-burned envelope.
He tore it open with delicate precision, sighing in relief when he saw that most of the contents were still intact.
Of course he was going to read Chen Sanshi's letter.
That performance earlier had been for show.
He was the commander of this campaign, and reputation mattered more than anything.
If he opened the letter publicly and had to change his plans because of it, everyone would know immediately—Chen Sanshi saved me.
Then all his hard-won prestige and authority as commander would vanish overnight.
But if he read it in secret…
And if it contained useful advice…
He could simply implement it and claim it as his own idea.
To the outside world, it would seem as though he were no less than the White-Robed Commander himself.
That was how you built momentum.
War was about momentum.
Not just on the battlefield—off it as well.
Ever since the campaign across the Hongze River, Tong Xiaochu had studied Chen Sanshi's every maneuver, obsessing over his "Way of Momentum." He'd merged those insights with his own family's doctrines until they became second nature.
The Tong family had been silent for too long.
Now that they finally had a chance to shine, he wasn't going to waste it.
Still, curiosity gnawed at him.
What did Chen Sanshi see that he didn't?
He was confident the Commander-in-Chief Army's deployment was flawless—steady, methodical, guaranteed to bring victory once the time was right.
If Chen Sanshi had written, it meant he believed something was wrong.
'No harm in reading,' Tong thought, and began carefully scanning the letter line by line.
Then his expression changed. His pupils shrank.
"Not good!" he muttered under his breath.
—
Western Qi Military Camp. Central Command Tent.
Inside sat a man in a flowing white robe, his refined bearing tinged with a faint air of immortality. He placed a black stone onto a chessboard with a soft click, his voice calm and unhurried.
"Worldly affairs are like a game of chess. War even more so. Every campaign I command feels like playing a grand match.
"The black and white generals are the players. The soldiers beneath them are merely the pieces.
"Each time I met a skilled opponent, I'd feel a thrill that robbed me of sleep.
"Unfortunately, since I unified seven kingdoms and stepped onto the Immortal Path thirty years ago, I've had no worthy opponent. My days have been nothing but meditation and cultivation.
"I thought I'd never encounter another real match. But here, in Dongsheng Shenzhou… it seems I've found the perfect board."
Clack.
He placed another stone.
Across from him, Martial Saint Zhong Wuxin gave a bitter smile. "Heh, I've lost again. I'm no match for you, Immortal Master."
"Of course you're not."
Han Xiang's tone was cool and distant. "But on this continent, there is one worthy player."
On the desk behind him lay two scrolls.
One bore the title The Way of Momentum.
The other—the life dossier of Chen Sanshi.
With a soft swish, Han Xiang dropped the remaining stones from his palm into the basket. His expression was indifferent. "Boring. Playing with mortals like you is meaningless. Leave."
"Yes, Immortal Master."
Zhong Wuxin bowed and backed out of the tent.
Once outside, he spat on the dirt, gritting his teeth. "Arrogant bastard! What does he take us for—just pawns on his board?!"
"Isn't that exactly what we are?" another soldier muttered nearby.
Deputy General Gong Yu followed up angrily, "That Han Xiang acts like a god. In his eyes, we're not even people. If he's so damn powerful, why doesn't he wipe out the Sheng army's two hundred thousand troops himself? Why does he need us to fight his battles?"
"I really don't know whether these so-called immortal masters descending into our kingdoms are a blessing or a curse."
Zhong Wuxin sighed. "If we keep dragging this out, our supply lines will collapse soon."
"If you ask me," Gong Yu clenched his fist, "we should send ten thousand light cavalry from each flank. While the Sheng army is still advancing, we'll ride through Jingxing Valley, strike from behind, and hit them in a pincer attack. Even if we can't crush them, we'll throw them into chaos.
"But no—our great Immortal Master insists we stay put like cowards. What the hell does he mean by that?"
"Commander, scouts report from the front!"
As they were speaking, a messenger rushed in.
Zhong Wuxin took the dispatch, glanced at it, and decided to deliver it personally.
He returned to the command tent. "Immortal Han, the Sheng army's Commander-in-Chief troops have made camp near Yiling. Their fortifications are solid. If we try to push forward now, it'll be difficult. I suggest we withdraw west of the Luo River. Dragging this out will only weaken us."
"Wait—what did you say?"
Han Xiang set down the Way of Momentum scroll and asked, "Where did you say the Sheng army is camped?"
"Yiling," Zhong Wuxin replied, then quickly added, "It's a strong, defensible position, perfect for avoiding the summer heat. Their supply routes are steady too. If we try to circle around now, it's probably too late to launch a surprise attack—"
Before he could finish, Han Xiang's cold laughter cut him off.
"Fools. Utter fools. Tell me, how is it that mediocrities like you dare to command tens of thousands—no, hundreds of thousands—of men?"
He sneered. "That saying 'the more, the better'? It doesn't apply to people like you. At best, you can handle ten thousand troops before you drown in confusion."
"Immortal Master…"
Zhong Wuxin forced a strained smile, suppressing his irritation. "I'm too dull to understand your meaning. Please, enlighten me."
"In the blazing heat of midsummer, when the lands of Luo are dry as tinder, how could that Tong brat be foolish enough to camp in the forests and hills?"
Han Xiang tossed the scroll aside and rose sharply to his feet. His eyes gleamed. "The Sheng army's two hundred thousand troops are already ash in the wind!"
"Zhong Wuxin, select twenty thousand men from the left and right wings. Divide them into six groups, follow the narrow paths I've marked in red on the war map, and climb into the mountains. Once there—set the Sheng army's camps ablaze.
"Deputy General Gong Yu, take thirty thousand soldiers and lie in ambush in the gorge two hundred li to the east.
"Leave fifty thousand behind to guard our base and cover the rear.
"As for the rest—every available man will march straight to Yiling!"
"Yes, Immortal Master!"
That night—
At the hour of the Rat (midnight)—
The air was suffocatingly hot. Cicadas screamed endlessly in the dark.
The Sheng soldiers stripped off their armor, bare-chested and sweating, tossing aside weapons and armor in an effort to cool themselves.
But the temperature only climbed higher. And higher.
Then came the sharp crackling of fire—and the screams of their comrades. They jolted awake, eyes wide. The forest around them was a sea of flames.
"Fire! Fire!"
"The camp's burning!"
"Get water, put it out!"
There was water, of course. Every camp was prepared for emergencies. But the land was dry, and the grass even drier. The tents and stockades were built from local timber—sun-baked, brittle, and ready to ignite at the slightest spark.
The flames spread faster than anyone could react, devouring everything in their path. Within moments, the night sky glowed red.
The fire blazed across hundreds of li, the land as bright as day. Billows of smoke rose into the heavens like a coiling black dragon.
Eight hundred linked camps—
Burned to the ground in one night.
"Enemy attack!"
"We're under attack!"
Through the smoke and chaos, the Sheng soldiers saw countless figures charging toward them—Western Qi troops, advancing in dense waves.
Panic swept through the ranks. Men stumbled, screamed, fled. Helmets and weapons littered the ground. The casualties were uncountable.
"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!"
Zhong Wuxin could hardly contain his excitement as he rejoined the main force. "Immortal Han, I see it now! You've been retreating on purpose, refusing open battle—all to lure the enemy in deeper!
"You predicted exactly where they'd make camp—Yiling, the perfect trap!
"Or rather, you made them camp there, didn't you? There was no other choice!
"And now—one spark, and their eight hundred li of encampments are ash!
"A masterpiece, truly the work of a War Immortal!"
Han Xiang's expression, however, remained cold and unreadable.
"No," he said quietly.
He rose into the air, riding his sword high above the burning mountains. From above, he saw it clearly—the fire consuming endless rows of tents, many of them eerily empty.
His eyes narrowed.
Moments later, a soldier rushed up from below to report.
"Immortal Master! The Sheng Commander's army—more than ninety percent of their forces—retreated beforehand, as if they knew!
"Only the forward vanguard of twenty thousand remained in camp!"