Chapter 1252: Old Acquaintance, Outstanding Merits

Perhaps it was meant to be struck down by the gods.

Heavy snow filled the sky, a vast expanse of gray; the sun was nowhere to be seen.

Outside the city, the Yubei River and the Luo River had frozen over with ice a foot thick or more. In the past, Yang Xu standing on the city wall could often see herdsmen and fishermen unafraid of death moving like black dots across the boundless white expanse, smashing ice to catch fish. This year it was clean and empty — not a single black dot in sight — only continuous columns of horses transporting supplies, treading through the accumulated snow, delivering them into Shuofangtai City.

The great war had ended, yet relations between the two sides had not eased; North and South were at war, the city was under strict martial law, and all fishermen and herdsmen were forbidden from wandering out of the city at will.

A two-finger-thick layer of snow had accumulated in the small circle atop the great banner's flagpole.

He scanned his surroundings in a circle.

Yang Xu leaped down from the city wall and patrolled along the ramparts.

Gravel rolled down the steps. Inside Shuofangtai City, large-scale construction was underway everywhere — handcarts and crossbeams everywhere. The Great Wall, the giant dragon sprawling across the land, had been broken open in several massive gaps; bricks and stones were dismantled from the southern side facing the Great Shun and transferred to the northern side facing the Northern Court, to be reassembled and rebuilt.

The city walls were packed with "convicts" wearing shackles, working feverishly, sweat soaking their backs. Their long-unkept hair was matted and clumped, harboring fleas.

Fortunately it was winter; the stench curled up in the cold, and unless you leaned in close, you couldn't smell much of it.

He made way for a small handcart, passing soldiers distributing rations.

Yang Xu wove through the crowd, examining them one by one.

Most of these people were evildoers who had committed minor crimes, or had committed major crimes but redeemed themselves through merit; all the same they were sentenced as "convicts," using labor to atone for their sins. Apart from those from the Northern Court, those able to travel thousands of miles to a place like the Northern Court all had pasts that were anything but simple.

Speaking of which, there were two junior fellow disciples among them, acquaintances — wonder if he remembers them —

Yang Xu's gaze fixed on one person.

"Hah, hah!"

Lu Xinqing swung his iron chains, hauling bricks and stones, exhausted and drenched in sweat; a gust of cold wind blew, freezing the sweat into frost pasted on his face.

How many years since he left Huazhu County?

He couldn't remember.

He only remembered that at first it was building dikes; once the dikes were done they headed north to build city walls. All along the way they did nothing but life-threatening work, eating cornmeal steamed buns, not a drop of oil in the vegetables, transferred to a new location every two or three years.

By the eighth or ninth year they reached the River Source. Here winter truly wasn't fit for humans — couldn't understand the speech, food froze hard as bricks. To avoid freezing to death at night they'd go sleep in the sheep pens, huddled with the sheep. The sole benefit was not having to write hundreds of characters of reflective insights about ditches and trenches every day.

How carefree the days used to be as a water bandit on the Heishuihe.

Winters not cold, summers not hot, stripping naked and jumping in the water to bathe, brothers drinking in big gulps, eating meat in large chunks. When they wanted women they'd go to town and spend a bit, ordering two at once — five taels of silver for the time it takes a candle to burn.

He was exceptionally gifted, could last three candles, emerging with steady legs and a face flushed red, receiving the flattery and admiration of his underlings. If not a pool of wine and forest of meat, it was still a life of extravagant debauchery — the Emperor himself was no better.

Can the Emperor order two Empresses at once?

No!

He doesn't have that blessing!

Damn it, those godly days — how did I end up running into that living King of Hell surnamed Liang?

Should never have robbed that Dragon Blood Horse.

Originally Shuofangtai's winters didn't require any heavy labor — at most going out to shovel snow, clear roads. Word is, the reason they're made to do heavy work in the dead of winter this year is because of the Prince of Huai, who is also surnamed Liang.

Lu Xinqing suspected he was destined to clash with people surnamed Liang his whole life.

In his memory, this so-called Prince of Huai had previously proclaimed to the world that the Heyuan Prefecture had given prisoners an extra meal. Not long after — a year or two at most — it seemed not only the surname but the given name was the same too, only his memory was fuzzy.

Ten years.

Ten whole years.

The Heposuo's Du Shui Lang Liang Qu who had arrested him back then had achieved merit in water control — he'd probably been promoted too, rising steadily? Wife and children on a heated kang, maybe he'd become a Wolf Smoke or even a Hunt-Tiger Grand Martial Master, a local tyrant.

"Tonight I'll ask that fatty Zhao next door; he's well-informed, he'll definitely know what the Prince of Huai is called. If it's the same name, I'll stab one less straw doll."

Once a person becomes a "convict," they simultaneously become "deaf" and "blind."

Soldiers ignore them, commoners pay them no heed.

What happens outside, what they've been through — all unknown, muddled and confused.

However, there was one person who was different.

Before Lu Xinqing came to Heyuan Prefecture, among a large batch of "convicts" there was a fatty surnamed Zhao. Hey, how about that — he was also from Huaiyin Prefecture.

One was from Pingyang County, the other from Huazhu County — originally neighbors. They committed crimes together and came to the River Source — rare indeed, meeting an old acquaintance in a foreign land.

The most key thing — how so?

After a long time, chatting about the past — hey, both of them were fucking caught by Liang Qu!

Brothers in misfortune, fellow sufferers.

Back and forth, the two practically became old friends.

Unlike Lu Xinqing, this fellow townsman Zhao was capable; he hadn't been "transferred" bit by bit to the Northern Court — he was exiled directly here from the start. Others all called him "Master Zhao." In this territory, to have such a nickname — showed he was no ordinary man.

"Master Zhao" lived very well, comfortably. He often managed to get wine and meat, some "spiced" goods, even illustrated storybooks. Even the lice on him were fewer than on others.

As a "fellow townsman," relying on the same accent, Lu Xinqing could always mooch benefits, almost becoming the second-in-command in the little prisoner clique.

After "Master Zhao" finished a storybook it was his turn to read — former dynasty empresses, the girl next door, southern frontier saintesses, Jianghu dragon maidens — all there. Vulgar. He'd read them and lend them to others, scraping a bit of profit — one coin per read.

Just not durable. A spiced storybook passed around, and in less than two days it was tattered and unusable. Not only did every page get rubbed wax-yellow, but shameless bastards often secretly tore out the key content and illustrations.

Over this, how many fights had broken out among the group.

Lu Xinqing truly thanked himself for befriending Master Zhao; otherwise he might not have held on, would've frozen to death in the snow long ago.

Once while drinking, Lu Xinqing was really curious what crime "Master Zhao" had committed. The man wouldn't say. He guessed — someone as smart as "Master Zhao" committing a crime, it had to be far more serious than his own water banditry.

The smarter a person, the greedier, the less satisfied with their own life.

Others said it was treason; Lu Xinqing didn't believe it.

Can you survive treason?

Mind full of wild thoughts, Lu Xinqing tossed the cold hard stones into the handcart, rubbed his hands, looked up and saw the general looking down at him from above. His heart tightened; he hurriedly forced a grin, added half a stone more, pushed the cart and walked off quickly, signaling he hadn't been slacking.

The general behind him stood still. Lu Xinqing let out a breath of relief, looked up at the sky full of heavy snow, the sun buried behind, diffusing a hazy yellow light.

A faint sorrow stirred in his heart.

A rough, calloused hand doing the work.

Ten years.

I'm over forty now.

It's December now, and the New Year is coming up soon.

These terrible days—when will they ever end?

I regretted meeting Liang Qu in the first two years, but now I don't regret that anymore; I started regretting stealing the secret manual and not staying away from the Heishui River to become a bandit. With my fourfold abilities, I could have gone out and found any kind of work—anything would do. In another two years, before I freeze to death in this icy snowscape, perhaps I won't regret being a bandit, but stealing the secret manual instead.

Watching Lu Xinqing run off, Yang Xu shook his head and turned to leave.

He is the "Eagle Eye" of Heyuan Prefecture, personally overseeing the capture of spies and traitors, and there are often Northern Prefecture agents disguised as prisoners; whenever the imperial court sends exiled convicts, he naturally has to review them all.

Every prisoner coming to Heyuan has a file listing their crimes and native place.

Lu Xinqing's native place is Huaiyin Prefecture, now Pingyang Prefecture, and because they are "fellow townspeople," he inevitably paid a bit more attention, checking what crime he committed—if it wasn't serious, or even if he was slandered, perhaps he could be looked after in daily life; afterward, he discovered that Lu Xinqing was actually related to his junior martial brother, a bandit he encountered on the flood-control route, who surprisingly had principles, and after helping him a little, he avoided the death sentence and was changed to labor service instead.

Another more suspicious case, with deeper origins, belongs to the local gentry of Pingyang Town who played with the Guimu Sect and fled to Huangzhou—what a coincidence, or not—

It's just fate and timing.

"Should be waking up soon, right?"

In November, they captured Shuofang Terrace; the junior martial brother came back and fell asleep immediately, as did most of the martial sages, and now it's December, and word has it that a certain martial sage has awakened—

Night.

The curtain was lifted.

Lu Xinqing shook the chains, shaking off snow dust, carried a plate of steamed buns to find "Master Zhao," casually grabbed a piece of braised beef from a dish, stuffed it into his steamed bun, and asked about his daytime random thoughts.

"Old brother, you're well-traveled and sharp—when they first caught me and caught you, that water bandit was called Liang Qu, and that Huaiwang—wasn't he also called Liang Qu? I can't remember."

Zhao Hongyuan gave Lu Xinqing a sideways glance, his round face flushed, and took a small sip of white porcelain liquor.

He used to dislike drinking liquor—this stuff was what dock laborers drank, brewed in dirty steamers, harsh on the throat, damaging to one's status—but after coming to the Northern Prefecture, he learned the good of liquor: one sip, and that spicy kick presses down all worries; after a day's labor, even his aching joints at night don't hurt, and in a dazed haze, it's just a beautiful dream.

Lu Xinqing thought Zhao Hongyuan was too drunk to hear: "Old brother?"

Zhao Hongyuan lifted his eyes, exhaled liquor fumes, and mumbled: "Better not to know."

"Why? A name—what's there not to know?" Lu Xinqing again pinched a piece of beef, chewed it repeatedly, tasted the flavor, "I know what the Huaiwang's name is—can he fly over and hit me?"

"What his name is isn't important; who he is is what matters. Figure it out clearly, and tonight you'll just lie awake, muddled and confused, going on living."

"Impossible, absolutely impossible!" Lu Xinqing waved his hands vigorously, "Unless same name and surname, and even damn it the same person—one is a water bandit who became a king, what do I have to lose sleep over?

Back then, if it weren't for my master refusing to give up the secret manual no matter what, how could I have stolen it? How would I have fled to become a bandit? To tell you the truth, old brother, I, Lu Mou, in this life, just don't like living in confusion!"

Zhao Hongyuan lifted his eyes, picked up the white porcelain bottle, and poured Lu Xinqing a full bowl, draining the last drop.

Drip, drip, drip—a thin line, the liquor sliding along the rim of the ceramic bowl into it, white liquor flowers swirling at the bottom.

Midnight.

Yin wind howled, the cotton curtain fluttered.

The body twisted and turned, rubbing against straw, the bunched-up wool blanket couldn't take it, called out twice, kicked twice, then shifted to another spot to bunch up.

Lu Xinqing reeked of liquor, two sheep hoofprints stamped on his head, chewing on beef strands he'd licked out from between his teeth, staring at the ceiling, glaring with big eyes.

"How could that be?"

A familiar scent floated beneath the nostrils, faint and alluring, stirring the soul.

"Huuu————"

Took a deep breath, refreshed and alert.

Liang Qu sat up naked, shook his head, stretched his tendons and bones. Long Eying rolled over and got off the bed, brewed a cup of hot tea.

"Finally over————"

Consciousness clear, Liang Qu first sensed the extremely dense "river-mid stones"—ten inside the city, ten opposite. Behind them, both sides still had scattered "river-mid stones" distributed, forming a standoff, a feeling of wind and rain about to come.

The King of the Wolong River—no idea where he went.

A battle, with the "river-mid stones" disturbed and scattered, none in their original positions, impossible to judge; it seems they didn't return to their "old home," after all, their old home was flattened by him and the sick tiger, so they should be recuperating in the Golden Wang Ting.

Long Eying stepped on wooden clogs, handed over the hot tea: "How's the recovery?"

"No problem, bursting with strength! One punch could kill three oxen!"

"The primordial divine ox?"

"Ha, the consort learned to follow the joke!"

"Subtle influence."

"Sigh, the blue comes from indigo and surpasses it—my entire body of secret arts, I pour them all out, grant the empowerment fully, and now there's really nothing left to teach the consort—"

Liang Qu held the hot tea in his hands, sighed while looking inward, and couldn't help but grin.

Three hundred twenty-five times the root sea, thriving, with "cannot move" and Awei, plus self-healing, the injury has basically recovered.

The main injury isn't serious.

The key of this battle was that he broke the balance of superior horse versus superior horse, letting superior horses temporarily face inferior horses, exchanging pieces, and the result—Liang Qu withstood the Wolf Lord without dying, the Wolong River King couldn't withstand Zhang Longxiang.

Who to blame?

Only the Wolong River King himself.

Liang Qu's first and third divine abilities are all-around defense; the infant dragon's mist beast can transform into armor, the Wolf Lord and Zhang Longxiang's offensives partially cancel each other out, Fubo blocks another wave, and finally, the fat fish's gathering and dispersing invisibility made a great contribution.

The biggest injury was almost entirely the backlash from Fubo breaking.

Relying on the Ze State, Liang Qu has behind him an entire logistics team, over ten different divine abilities available for selection, plug-and-play, rapid response.

What does the Wolong River King rely on to compare endurance with him?

Are they all of the same "foundation"?

Behind, the Wolong River King's lower body was even taken by them—from the waist down, completely lost; this injury is very hard to recover from, and even if the body heals later, the other side will have psychological trauma, at least several years, even ten or more years, unable to go to the battlefield.

Wealth and honor poured down—Liang Qu is at least even with Zhang Longxiang, five-five!

One wave in the Southern Frontier, one wave in the Northern Court — however much "Peerless Merit" he might harvest, he didn't dare imagine.

One Wu Sheng fallen equals ten "Peerless Merits"; one "Peerless Merit" can be exchanged for two portions of inferior Creation Great Elixirs, or one portion of middling Creation Great Elixir!

"Repaying the Yaowang debt, four hundred or even five hundred on the Root Sea — just around the corner————"

Smug satisfaction.

Liang Qu sipped a mouthful of hot tea.

"What's the situation outside now?"

Long Eying sat cross-legged on the bed: "Shuofangtai has been taken down by us; the Northern Court has dispatched envoys to negotiate. The main content: the Northern Court demands to pay ransom to redeem Shuofangtai, otherwise they will employ Position Fruits and launch a state war. The Great Shun side refuses to redeem it, wanting to thoroughly occupy and digest Shuofangtai. General He is dismantling Shuofangtai's walls to move them north."

"What about Lady? Any injuries?"

"No injuries, earned a minor merit."

"Oh." Liang Qu's eyes brightened. "What minor merit?"

"Kicked to death the Third Wolf and Eighth Wolf of the Twelve Wolves; the Wolf King was also heavily injured."

"Kicked to death?"

"At that time it happened to be the sun's Yang Qi, reaching noon, plus the Startled Dragon Transformation — strength multiplied several times. The Third Wolf and Eighth Wolf were caught off guard; one kick and———— Husband, what are you doing?" Long Eying lowered her head.

"Feeling the legs that kicked the Twelve Wolves to death — so white, so long, so soft."

"How come you're kissing too?"

"Couldn't help myself. Huh? Sweet!"

Long Eying's eyes curved like crescent moons; she pressed down on Liang Qu's head: "Serious business. The Dao Heaven has awakened; Prince Huai not busy with proper affairs?"

Liang Qu looked up: "How long has the adjudication been going on?"

"Half a month."

"That long?" Liang Qu was instantly surprised. "How long have I slept?"

"Today is the sixteenth of the twelfth month."

"Another whole month? Almost slept into a Frog King."

Liang Qu let go of Eying's sleeping skirt.

During tiger hunting, doubted the Frog King; at Entering Zhen Xiang, understood the Frog King; at Fledgling Dragon, became the Frog King.

Southern Frontier Dao War, slept from ninth month to tenth month; Northern Court Dao War, from tenth month to twelfth month.

"Right, very soon — another month and it's the New Year festival."

"Since that's the case, this year's New Year festival we'll spend in the north." Liang Qu put on his trousers. "This adjudication will probably take a long time; I have to stay here directly to hold the fort. Won't stay at Shuofangtai — too close to the front line, too dangerous. To Heyuan Prefecture.

I'll have General Jian issue a pass; everyone travels the waterway special line. Master and Old Master Hao haven't met in a long time; can also let Master contact his old comrades from the founding army days. Everyone gathers together, sees the Snow Roar."

"Good, I'll arrange it."

"I'll go see General Jian and the Dragon Elephant King."

"Mm."

Draping the great cloak, lifting the cloth curtain, Liang Qu passed through the unique small warming antechamber of northern houses, walked out of the inner room, pushed open the main door.

Cold wind whooshed back into his trouser legs; piled snow reached no lower than the threshold.

Weather bad, people good.

Southern campaign, then northern war.

Off to claim merit!