Chapter 199

Bai Lang has no interest in what those who escaped from his hand and survived think; can't blame them—who let there still be a former Ao Shaobao in the world shaped by the same person? And the Ao Shaobao most deeply ingrained in people's hearts is none other than Bai Lang's current guise. In this world there are always seven people who look very much like oneself; Bai Lang and Xu Mou, for instance, are an example.

Junior Protector Bai is just as domineering and mighty; now, riding his horse, he wanders about, thinking where to spend the night. 'Tomorrow I'll continue killing; this time I'll first kill those of the Hezhuo department. The leaders among them will surely die! As for the Tartars of Jianzhou here, I'll just kill their leaders too. Anyway, sooner or later the world will fall into great chaos, and my household will start from here to slaughter every garrison.' As for where the main slaughter should be, Bai Lang leans toward the southeast, for example Liangguang.

The southeast region has always been the 'main base' of the anti-Qing, pro-Ming movement; Bai Lang also thinks it would be best to start killing there, then go north all the way and finally storm the Forbidden City to take the dog's life of the Qianlong Emperor. He just doesn't know what the Qianlong Emperor looks like: 'Hopefully it's just the bandit leader Dao Shuai Liu Xiang... but if it's the bandit leader, then the incidents of those caught by the Zhan Guard in Hangzhou shouldn't have happened? It's just the Zhan Guard after all...'

Bai Lang thinks about these random things, his mood also quite pleasant—today he'll just find a sheltered spot outdoors to sleep for a night. Unfortunately his clothes are torn; under sword cuts and arrow strikes his flesh is unharmed, his hair and beard also unharmed—under the Golden Bell Shield's qi, his hair and beard are no different from steel wire; even without infusing qi, this hair and beard are already much tougher than an ordinary person's. Bai Lang usually relies on his family's Southern Dipper Holy Fist martial art to shave his head and trim his beard...

So he can't master the hair‑gel hand, but he can practice the electric clipper hand.

His flesh is impervious to blades and spears, but his clothing is not; Bai Lang's protective qi oddly fails to guard his own clothes. His brocade robe at this moment is ragged, full of tears and holes everywhere. This appearance is truly, 'wild to the extreme, though at least he hasn't exposed himself.' Bai Lang touches his clothes, but he doesn't really mind. Anyway, he is actually impervious to cold and heat; clothing for him is merely decoration and modesty—unless the temperature is a hundred degrees above or below zero, Bai Lang doesn't need such things to ward off external temperature changes.

'Tomorrow my household could fight bare‑chested and it would be fine; indeed, it would rather have the aura of an ancient fierce general.' This person lay on a small slope, arm pillowing his head, gazing at the sky's myriad stars. The sound of horse hooves—someone approached on horseback. Bai Lang had long recognized from the breathing who it was—besides his female slave, who else would be looking for him now? The female slave dismounted, walked over to Bai Lang, and knelt beside him.

Bai Lang slightly turned his head, looking at the kneeling Huo Qingtong beside him, 'Come to think of it, that's the Xinjiang attire I imagined.' Before this, the female slave had never dressed up so strikingly. Seeing Junior Protector Bai look at her like that, the yellow‑jacket‑with‑plumes Huo Qingtong probably had many things she wanted to say, but upon seeing Bai Lang's eyes she couldn't utter a word. 'Looking at your attire, you seem to have run out from some bonfire gathering? I didn't even know such a custom existed—clearly it violates doctrine, doesn't it?'

Bai Lang looks at the female slave shedding tears; she seems quite sharp, perhaps she has heard somewhere and understood the true meaning of what he said on the battlefield. 'Tomorrow I will launch a surprise attack on the Hezhuo tribe; not a single male elder of your family will survive. So hold back your tears until then and let them flow then. If you want to split the nation, you must prepare for heads to fall.' Bai Lang's tone was calm, but the content was unequivocal and not to be altered.

She's just a female slave; there's no need to give her false hope—if she can figure things out, good; if not and she wants to die, then that's all we can do, let her die. Bai Lang also doesn't know when the yellow‑jacket‑with‑plumes kneeling beside him left—because he was asleep. If the other party intended to kill him, what we probably see now is likely shredded corpses, a reflexive counter‑attack triggered by killing intent; this is something the newly Innate Expert Huo Qingtong could not withstand.

At daybreak, Bai Lang casually ate a few mouthfuls of dry rations and drank some water, had his war horse eat its fill of beans, mounted it, and rode at a slow pace toward the Hezhuo army's camp. He of course knows where they are; human scent rides the wind, and as an Innate Expert Bai Lang's six senses are sharp, so he can naturally smell it on the wind, and the closer he gets the more he hears people's speech, not to mention his Innate intuition.

'Not getting lost in the Gobi this time isn't bad, huh.' Bai Lang muttered to himself while gently urging his horse to approach the enemy camp. When he was still more than ten li from the camp, he already encountered the scouts that had been sent out. Upon seeing him, they went mad, spurring their horses to flee, not daring to make contact. Bai Lang also chuckled; when was the last time he encountered this situation? Probably during the Chongzhen era? The place seemed to still be Liaodong.

He arrived at a point about two li from the main camp; the Hezhuo troops had already formed ranks, under the leadership of their respective battalion and regiment commanders, encouraged by some people chanting sutras, facing Bai Lang in formation. Bai Lang saw among them the yellow‑jacket‑with‑plumes, her eyes still swollen; he also saw the chief of the Zhan Guard—it seems this fellow finally had white essence enter his brain. At this moment Bai Lang had already swapped in two new iron spears, and looking at the formation unfolding before him he laughed loudly.

Amid his laughter, Bai Lang perceived the military spirit—wavering on the verge of collapse, who let him be considered as having the legend of the White Tiger Star Lord descending to earth...... Junior Protector Bai plunged his right‑hand iron spear into the ground, adjusted his pheasant‑feather cap on his head, pulled out a long spear with his left hand, exerted force with his legs, let out a roar, and brought the two spears forward together, urging his horse to begin the charge. As he drew nearer, the cavalry formation directly opposite him began to stir, and it grew ever more chaotic.

Head‑on collision? Or make way? Or let the infantry bear the brunt? Well, now it's utter chaos; just as Bai Lang was about to arrive, the cavalry scattered in a burst, and some even collided and fell from their horses. Thus the infantry behind were suddenly exposed; they hadn't even had time to lower their spears—though in fact it wouldn't have helped. Bai Lang clamped his legs, making the horse run a diagonal, and extending his left‑hand iron spear, using the horse's momentum while swinging it himself, he directly cleaved six or seven infantrymen. That was heads and severed limbs flying, blood and wails dancing together.

Basically just one strike, and the enemy's morale is about to drop to zero. Afterward Bai Lang turned his horse's head and charged straight into the gap that had opened in the enemy formation. This veteran of many years' charges, he's completely at home with this routine. Upon this charge, immediately there were rolling heads and rivers of blood, and the entire line began to collapse—his performance yesterday was too horrifying. Now if Bai Lang still had even a hundred cavalry behind him, he could freely pursue the routed troops—that's what is called routing them.