Chapter 474: Reunion and Regret: Gathering at the Magistrate

“Take off your masks!”

Jiang Xinfan turned to look at the thirteen newcomers and was the first to remove his own mask, then gestured for everyone else to do the same.

Below, the crowd froze at the sound, but soon, as Xia Hong beside Jiang Xinfan unfastened his mask, most of their expressions erupted in excitement.

“Lord!”

“It really is the Lord—I sensed it back in Hekou Village, that intense Sacred Pattern bloodline resonance—only the Lord could possess it.”

“It’s the Lord—we’ve found the Lord!”

…………

Seeing Xia Hong’s true face, the thirteen below, overcome with emotion, cried out in unison, then swiftly removed their masks and bowed deeply before Xia Hong with utmost reverence:

“We pay homage to the Lord.”

“We pay homage to our Master!”

“We pay homage to my Lord!”

The thirteen shouted three different titles, and everyone instantly fell silent.

“Hahaha…”

Xia Hong smiled, first turning his gaze to the eight men ahead, and said: “Chen Hua, Kong Xiu, Luo Ming, Hong Yu, Meng Ao, Zhu Kang, Chen Yingba, Wu Ningyuan—I haven’t forgotten your names, have I?”

The eight Xia Army operatives hidden in Chen Cang—Xia Hong remembered them all, even recalling each of their names with perfect precision.

It wasn’t surprising—he knew these eight well.

Chen Hua and Kong Xiu were veteran Xia Army spies who had once infiltrated Muyin Town years ago, playing a crucial role in relieving its crisis; if Xia Hong remembered correctly, both had risen to lead the Hongmen Eight Bureaus, yet still chose to return to Chen Cang for covert duty—now both stood at 42 Zong.

As for Luo Ming—no need to explain; the old man who once surrendered Shuanglong Valley, Luo Ge, now wielded 49 Zong power; Chen Yingba was the younger brother of Chen Yingyuan, former leader of the Beehive, whom Xia Hong had personally disciplined—now he stood at 52 Zong; Wu Ningyuan was the former third-in-command of the Longyou Bai Yuan camp, who defected to Xia during the Longyou War, and now held 51 Zong.

These five were all men over forty, and in both age and strength, they clearly formed the core backbone of Xia Army today.

The remaining three—Hong Yu, Meng Ao, Zhu Kang—looked much younger, no more than thirty; Xia Hong remembered clearly that their fathers were Hong Guang, Meng Yi, and Zhu Ling, who died defending the Beehive.

By lineage, these three were second-generation disciples—but their ages were too great; Xia Army’s consensus defined second-generation disciples as those born after Yuan Year, and these three clearly didn’t qualify.

But they weren’t the only ones who didn’t qualify—Luo An, Lu Dong, Zou Ping, Luo Cheng, Liu Peng, Hong Ye, Zhao Yuanwu, Zhao Yuanshan, Zhao Yuankang, and many others—all born before Yuan Year, now aged between twenty and thirty.

This age group was called the New Generation by Xia Army.

The New Generation was currently the most active and steadily emerging force; the Jiuzhen Tournament a few years ago proved it, and Ji Hong, now in Chen Cang, was also one of them.

Although Hong Yu’s three couldn’t match Ji Hong’s strength, they were still impressive: Zhu Kang at 35 Zong, Hong Yu at 33 Zong, Meng Ao the weakest at 32 Zong.

Xia Army’s New Generation wasn’t just growing stronger—they were now undertaking perilous covert missions, proving their growing influence within the camps.

“Zhu Kang, you’ve inherited Zhu Ling’s title, haven’t you?”

The Lord remembered him!

The eight named, their hearts racing, were stunned when the Lord recalled their father Zhu Ling—Zhu Kang’s face trembled with emotion; he bowed, voice choked: “Thank you, Lord, for remembering—I successfully inherited my father’s Ninth-Rank Xuanling Viscount title three years ago.”

“Good.”

Zhu Ling was among the first Yuhan-level martyrs of Xia Army; Zhu Kang’s uncle, Zhu Yuan, was Director of the Civil Affairs Bureau—this family was deeply etched in Xia Hong’s memory.

Having finished with the eight from Xia, he turned his gaze to the five behind.

The five were four men and one woman; three were Zhang Yuchuan and Liu Wang, the two Protectors who led the Qingwu Village uprising; the remaining two young people were none other than Su Jing and Su Xinger.

While Zhang Yuchuan’s trio wore expressions of confusion, Su Xinger and Su Jing stared at Xia Hong, tears streaming down their faces; when Xia Hong looked their way, they couldn’t hold back—they rushed forward and knelt with a thud.

“Master, Xinger knew you wouldn’t perish.”

The reason Xia Hong had marveled at the coincidence upon seeing the thirteen was precisely this—Su Xinger and her brother had somehow ended up with Ji Hong.

He suddenly remembered: Jiang Xinfan had spoken at length, yet Xia Hong had never asked how Ji Hong learned of his disappearance in the Blood Miasma Plain.

Ji Hong might have deduced his identity from the Heavenly List name Hong Yu, and inferred he’d come to Mao’ao River—but his disappearance in the Blood Miasma Plain was known only to Cai Qiu’s high command; he was no one important to them, so they wouldn’t broadcast it.

Thus, most in Chen Cang were unaware—and Ji Hong had even less chance of knowing.

Now, seeing Su Xinger and her brother, it all clicked.

“When you were training in the Blood Miasma Plain, you met Ji Hong, didn’t you?”

“Yes—thanks to Brother Ji’s rescue, the four of us would’ve died in the Blood Miasma Plain.”

Su Xinger wept with joy, voice still trembling—reuniting with Xia Hong meant everything to her.

Among the nine Xia members present, including Jiang Xinfan at the front, hearing Su Xinger call out “Master” for the second time, and seeing Xia Hong offer no correction, their hearts stirred; Hong Yu and the two other youths couldn’t help turning to stare at Su Xinger and her brother, their eyes brimming with envy.

Fate truly was wondrous…

Xia Hong noticed their expressions but paid no mind—he couldn’t help sighing inwardly.

According to Jiang Xinfan’s earlier account, the Xuanbing Dao Gui had nearly destroyed both vassal territories’ training zones; under normal circumstances, Su Xinger’s group, at their strength then, would’ve perished—even with the Yellow Candle he’d given them.

Yet they met Ji Hong.

No need to guess—the reason Ji Hong crossed paths with them must’ve been the Yellow Candle or Congealed Fire Oil, Xia Army’s exclusive items.

From the November training two years ago until now, exactly two years had passed; Su Xinger’s 42 Zong strength already surprised Xia Hong—then he saw Su Jing: 38 Zong—this was even more astonishing.

But soon, Xia Hong noticed their anomalies.

Their skin membranes showed almost no defects—clear signs of consuming vast quantities of Blood Jade Pearls!

“Rise. Meeting Ji Hong was your fate…”

Xia Hong called Su Xinger and her brother to their feet, then turned to the last three, smiling: “Zhang Yuchuan—I know you. What are the names of these two?”

Though Su Xinger and her brother were puzzled by the others’ “Lord” title, they’d long suspected Xia Hong’s origins, so they quickly calmed down;

But Zhang Yuchuan’s trio was different.

They were Ji Hong’s trusted men in Chen Cang, completely ignorant of Xia Army; yet from Xia Hong’s display of power in Hekou Village and Jiang Xinfan’s deference to him, they’d already guessed much.

“Your servant, Liu Biao, pays homage to my Lord!”

“Your servant, Wang Feng, pays homage to my Lord!”

To recruit two Yuhan-levels at 38 Zong as personal retainers required more than strength alone—power, wealth, status, and skill—all were indispensable.

Clearly, Ji Hong had thrived in Chen Cang over these past three years!

Xia Hong couldn’t help sighing, his curiosity deepening; he waved his hand: “Once this matter is settled, don’t linger here—the fire’s growing stronger, and several Xianyang-levels are already approaching. Gather your things and head for Yanling County City!”

Yanling County City was a must-visit.

Meet Ji Hong, assess Yanling’s situation, probe the Frost Ash Society’s strength, and learn how the Luhe Valley uprising will unfold—will Chen Cang push forward with reform, or retreat entirely, silencing the reformists forever?

These two paths would lead Chen Cang to utterly different futures.

Of course, there was one more critical matter: next month’s 25th, the invitation to Yang City would activate; not only out of curiosity about this mysterious Yang City, but Xia Hong himself needed to acquire a large quantity of cultivation resources—he must enter Yang City.

Even if nothing else, buy as much as possible and bring it back to Xia Cheng for study!

“Lord, will you enter the city as the Qin Heir, or…”

Hearing Jiang Xinfan’s question, Xia Hong frowned slightly, thought a moment, then waved his hand: “No need—I won’t stay long in Chen Cang. If I draw attention, Ji Hong might be exposed. Arrange me a false identity.”

“Understood!”

Jiang Xinfan had been in Chen Cang for half a year, Ji Hong for three years—both had ways to handle identities; Xia Hong didn’t worry, watching Jiang Xinfan leave to make arrangements, he gazed across the distance toward the west.

In the two hours since he’d reunited with the group in Wufeng Valley, the flames across the Lu Su fields had fully taken hold, stretching over twenty kilometers north to south; thick smoke blanketed the sky and earth; the air within dozens of li was choked with ash from burning straw.

“Hekou Village is near water—but the fire has spread too far; even if we opened the sluices now, it’d be too late. Chen Cang has suffered a massive loss—reform… it’s over, isn’t it?”

As Xia Hong pondered alone, Zhang Yuchuan, after speaking with Su Xinger, walked with a grim face to the valley’s inner side and called down the two girls from the carriage.

“Yuzhu, the Lord who stayed at our home—was his name Hong Yu?”

Seeing Zhang Yuzhu nod in confirmation, Zhang Yuchuan’s already dark face darkened further with regret and bitterness.

Though he hadn’t been at Hekou Village tonight, he’d heard everything from others—the moment Xia Hong spoke, he recognized him: the elder who’d lived in his home.

He’d learned the name Hong Yu from Su Xinger and her brother.

Su Xinger’s group joined the Frost Ash Society’s Yanling Headquarters last year, like him, under the Young Dragon Chief; their ages were close, so they got along well.

Qin Heir Hong Yu, ranked first on the Heavenly List, his strength rivaling the Jie Shen-level masters of the four vassal territories—the most prominent Xianyang-level in Mao’ao River today.

Most crucially, Zhang Yuchuan knew well that Ji Hong had long been searching for Hong Yu’s whereabouts; from Ji Hong’s occasional remarks, Hong Yu held immense weight in his heart.

Combined with Jiang’s humble demeanor toward Hong Yu, and the Young Dragon Chief’s recent recruitment of Yuhan-levels who called Hong Yu “Lord,” Zhang Yuchuan now sensed clearly: this Lord wasn’t just powerful—his identity was far from ordinary.

And yet, on the 18th of last month, he’d forcibly taken his two sisters away from him.

Now, recalling his own actions, Zhang Yuchuan wanted to slap himself hard—his behavior as an elder brother had, in effect, severed his sisters’ path to heaven…

“Grandfather only mentioned Hong Lord in his letter—if I’d known he was Hong Yu Lord, I’d never have done such a foolish thing!”