Chapter 103: Battle on the Grassland

"Although your scheme this time isn't bad, your actions have thoroughly offended the local landlord-bureaucrats. It's only a matter of time before they report your affairs to the court — at most a year before everything comes out." Qiu Chuji reminded them with a grave expression.

The current Great Song Chaoting is corrupt and incompetent, and other anti-Jin organizations are loosely structured. Only the Revolutionary Army has hope of overthrowing the Jin Kingdom, so he didn't want the Revolutionary Army to grow careless over this victory, even though they had already achieved considerable results.

"A year? Is one year enough?" Zhang Xiaofan said with full confidence.

"Whew, looks like you've set up a very large chess game — can you tell us about it?" Qiu Chuji asked with keen interest. Every move these people made seemed wildly imaginative, yet somehow each one succeeded. He felt that once this chess game was finished, the Jin Kingdom in its prime would be either dead or crippled.

"I'd better not say — after all, your mouths aren't very tight, and one slip and our whole plan is out." Zhang Xiaofan refused cleanly, then stepped into the moonlight and left.

Qiu Chuji and Hong Qigong exchanged glances. Were their mouths really that loose? But Hong Qigong soon stopped worrying about it, because he wanted to show off the new toy he had just obtained in front of Qiu Chuji.

"Chuji, see this? It's called a handgun. Short, but easy to carry. Next time at the Mount Hua Sword Tournament I'll bring this along — when the time comes, Old Poison, Prince Duan, and Huang the Heretic coming at me together still won't be my match." Hong Qigong declared proudly, a handgun in each hand.

Qiu Chuji was a little dumbfounded. Using that thing in a martial contest — are you sure it's not against the rules? If it isn't, then I'll ask Zhang Chu'an for one too. Huang the Heretic may be eccentric, but he has his pride — if I asked him, "Do you dare take one of my hidden weapons from me?", he'd surely stand still and take my shot.

But the fancy he had just indulged in was quickly suppressed, because Zhang Chu'an had said that if he had time, he also wanted to attend the Mount Hua Sword Tournament. Although Qiu Chuji had only known Zhang Chu'an for a year or two, he understood one thing: you can fight Zhang Chu'an, but if you try to set up a duel with him—

Qiu Chuji recalled how, back then, he had listened to the local tyrant-landlord and mistakenly thought Zhang Chu'an was a bandit who robbed homes. Without a second word he raised his precious sword and went looking for trouble with Zhang Chu'an.

And then he learned how harsh the world was. Clearly a master on par with his own master, yet not a shred of a strong man's bearing — ambush over face-to-face, gang-up over single combat, bring as many as you can.

Morals decline with every passing day, and people's hearts are no longer what they once were. Qiu Chuji suddenly thought of the Seven Freaks of Jiangnan — men of chivalry like them surely wouldn't use guns to fight an opponent.

"Big Brother, with this thing, what's the point of us still practicing martial arts? I've already decided — at the Mount Hua Sword Tournament we'll bring this along. When the time comes, the Eastern Heretic, Western Venom, Southern Emperor, Northern Beggar — all of them will go down before us." Zhu Cong, who had just captured Mei Chaofeng alive, was exceptionally excited at this moment.

After hearing second brother Zhu Cong's words, Ke Zhen'e flushed and hurriedly rebuked him: "Nonsense! A martial contest is about comparing skill and technique — bringing a gun, isn't that against the rules? Besides, this gun was lent to you by Nie the Standing Committee member — what right do you have to take it into a martial contest?"

Ke Zhen'e knew the power of the thing in his hand only too well. One must remember that Mei Chaofeng and Chen Xuanfeng's horizontal-training skill was quite formidable — their bodies were truly like cast bronze and forged iron, and taking two hits from blunt weapons on the back didn't even matter. But in the end, such powerful horizontal-training was pierced through with ease by the gun.

Having roamed the jianghu for years, Ke Zhen'e understood the principle that carrying a deadly weapon awakens the killer's heart. What would ordinary people do with such a weapon? At best, bully men and dominate women; at worst, rob homes and plague a whole region.

Based on their Wu Gong, even all seven of them together were no match for Mei Chaofeng — yet with the gun they could capture Mei Chaofeng and Chen Xuanfeng alive with ease.

"Alright, Big Brother — Second Brother is just happy that you've avenged our father, isn't he?" Seventh sister Han Xiaoying hurriedly soothed.

"Sigh, that's exactly why I'm sighing. Seven years ago, if we hadn't argued with Qiu Chuji, that mother and son wouldn't have been forced to flee into the desert. We came this time to save the descendants of loyal men, but ended up owing such a great debt of gratitude — for the moment I don't know how to repay it." Ke Zhen'e sighed deeply.

"Why must Big Brother be like this? At worst, the seven of us will stay here and lend them a hand. The seven of us are as one — we'll repay the kindness together." Second brother Zhu Cong said in a clear, ringing voice.

When the seven carried Chen Xuanfeng and Mei Chaofeng back to the tribe, the whole tribe fell into a jubilant atmosphere. Only after the seven questioned them in detail did they learn that Guo Jing had led his army to smash Temujin's Qiyan tribe.

Although Guo Jing's commanding talent was formidable, compared to the once-in-a-generation Genghis Khan he still fell far short. But unfortunately, warfare is not something where a brilliant commander alone guarantees victory.

Although Temujin had learned a great deal of knowledge in the Revolutionary Army, and if he applied those systems to his own tribe he could raise their overall strength by a level, the key was that Guo Jing gave Temujin no time. Once he had reorganized his forty-thousand troops, he came straight at Temujin.

In this regard, Guo Jing not only had the advantage in numbers, but his army's quality was ahead of the era, his organization and deployment were ahead of the era, and his weapons and equipment crushed Genghis Khan's forces.

If a commander is likened to a driver, then Temujin is the world's number-one driver, and Guo Jing is only an ordinary professional driver — but Temujin is driving a tractor, while Guo Jing is driving a top-of-the-line sports car.

No matter how good your skill, it's useless. Thirty thousand ill-equipped rabble fighting forty thousand Revolutionary troops with advanced equipment simply cannot win. Temujin's forces collapsed quickly, and the Qiyan tribe he had spent years building was swallowed up by Guo Jing.

After leaving five thousand men behind, Guo Jing had someone notify Nie Huaishang to take over the Qiyan tribe, then led the remaining twenty-five thousand in pursuit of Temujin. On the road chasing Temujin, Guo Jing's forces ran into Wang Han's troops — without a moment's hesitation.

Guo Jing launched a fierce assault directly on Wang Han's forces. In this battle, Guo Jing was like Mount Menghuxia, charging into the enemy formation at the very front. His figure darted across the battlefield like lightning, and wherever he went, the enemy was terrified — as if he had entered a realm no one could stop.

The Five Thunder Orthodoxy shone brilliantly in this battle, its power staggering. Every time Guo Jing activated this ultimate technique, thunder rolled across the sky and five bolts of Lei Ting came crashing down, striking the enemy directly. Those thunderbolts were like the wrath of the gods, instantly reducing enemies to dust. Under the Five Thunder Orthodoxy's relentless bombardment, the enemy retreated step by step, utterly unable to fight back.

Wang Han's troops, already a rabble in the first place, collapsed. After routing Wang Han's army, Guo Jing pressed on without pause, leading his men into the royal tent to capture Wang Han alive.