Chapter 469: The Red Lotus Sect Has Arrived

Cheng Feng did not take the rumors outside to heart.

Having obtained Martial Dao cultivation resources, he only wanted to focus on cultivation.

The bloodline inheritance of the Flood Dragon Body contained some information regarding cultivators.

After communicating with the two sisters, Hua Kai and Hua Xie,

he received a piece of news: if one lacks the natural talent to sense Spirit Qi, one can only rely on Mortal Martial Dao to cultivate to the Innate realm.

Only then would there be a chance to perceive Spirit Qi.

It is said that Mortal Martial Dao was also a path created by big shots among cultivators for their family members who could not become cultivators.

Although it is a difficult path to walk, at least it provides a direction.

Cheng Feng was naturally happy that the attitude of the two sisters, Hua Kai and Hua Xie, had softened.

If they were to bear a few children for Cheng Feng as well~~

That would be even more wonderful.

Cheng Feng said nothing, only blindly striving to accumulate Fortune Points.

……

Wofeng Prefecture is neither large nor small, yet it is wedged in the gaps of the Great Zhou border, like a chess piece set aside at random.

If one were to liken the map of the Great Zhou Dynasty to a circle, Wofeng Prefecture would fall in the gap between the edge of the southeast corner and the center—neither close nor far.

It neither touches the prosperity of the Capital nor counts as a strategic location on the frontier.

Precisely because of this, when the smoke of war from the Red Lotus Sect swept across the southeastern half of the territory, everyone's gaze turned toward Huangyun Dao.

The profitable large prefectural cities on the eastern Huangyun Dao are the Red Lotus Sect's true main course.

Those cities have crisscrossing trade routes and well-stocked Granaries; taking any one of them would be enough to support tens of thousands of troops for half a year.

More importantly, Huangyun Dao is a Sharp Blade thrust straight into the heart of the Great Zhou—the official roads along the way are wide and flat, allowing for a direct advance toward the Capital, with almost no natural barriers to block the way.

The black hand behind the Red Lotus Sect clearly knows the Great Zhou's military deployment like the back of their hand, stepping on the Imperial Court's most painful spots at every turn, with a goal so clear it is chilling.

Aiming straight for the Capital.

However, even a mosquito is meat no matter how small; families forced to cooperate with the Red Lotus Sect must contribute something to show their sincerity.

And at this moment, Lianshan Prefecture is about to fall.

The news splashed into the Zhennan Prince Mansion like a basin of ice water.

The Zhennan Prince Mansion is located in Pingluan City in the heart of the southern frontier, occupying a vast area; the scent of a mixture of rust and pine resin permeates the green tiles and vermilion eaves year-round.

That is the scent of weaponry and warhorses, which has not dissipated for decades.

The main hall of the Wangfu is brightly lit at this moment; the officers standing on both sides are in armor, their swords not yet unbuckled, and an invisible string is taut in the air.

The Zhennan Prince sits on the grandmaster chair in the center, saying nothing.

He is one of the only two remaining princes of a different surname in the Great Zhou; at sixteen, he followed his father to campaign against the southern barbarians, at twenty-two he led an army alone to pacify the Southwest Eighteen Dong, and at thirty-five he was enfeoffed as the Zhennan Prince, in command of military affairs for the five southern prefectures.

For twenty years, the chieftains, cave masters, roving bandits, and sea pirates of the southern frontier have trembled at the mere mention of the name "Zhennan Prince."

Some say he is the southern pillar of the Great Zhou, while others say he is a fierce tiger raised in the southern frontier—easy to release, but difficult to call back.

At this moment, this fierce tiger is unnervingly quiet.

His fingers slowly stroke the deep sword mark on the chair's armrest—that was left by an assassin who snuck into the Wangfu during the southern frontier rebellion ten years ago.

At the time, the Zhennan Prince snapped the assassin's neck with his bare hands, but the sword mark has remained, as if a reminder.

"Eight thousand garrison troops in Lianshan Prefecture, six days." The Zhennan Prince spoke, his voice not loud, yet it made the spines of everyone in the hall tense up simultaneously.

"It took only six days to beat Lianshan Prefecture into a sieve. I would like to ask those lords in the Ministry of War, when they swore to me that Lianshan Prefecture was as solid as a golden cauldron, which 'golden cauldron' were they talking about? A paper one?"

No one in the hall dared to respond.

The Zhennan Prince's eldest son, the Heir Apparent Zhou Jinghuan, stood at the head of the generals, slightly lowering his eyes.

He understands his father—the angrier the Zhennan Prince is, the calmer he appears on the surface,

like a volcano pressing magma deep within its body; once it erupts, it will inevitably cause the mountains to collapse and the earth to crack.

"Father," Zhou Jinghuan stepped forward and bowed, "Although Lianshan Prefecture is in danger, it has not yet completely fallen. The latest news from the scouts says that although the city defenses are broken, the garrison commander Zhao Hengbo is still leading the remnants to hold the Inner City, and the Red Lotus Sect cannot take him for the time being.

If this son leads five thousand heavy cavalry north first, traveling day and night, I can reach Lianshan Prefecture within five days."

The Zhennan Prince looked up at him, his gaze filled with scrutiny: "Five thousand heavy cavalry? Do you know how many people the Red Lotus Sect has on Huangyun Dao? How many hidden cards they still have behind them?"

Zhou Jinghuan pursed his lips and was about to speak, but the Zhennan Prince raised his hand to stop him.

"Do you know why the Red Lotus Sect chose to act at this time?" The Zhennan Prince's voice suddenly deepened, carrying a seasoned insight.

"The Imperial Court's main force is suppressing rebellions in the southwest, the Forbidden Army is confronting the Tatars on the northern border, the Capital's defenses are empty, and Lianshan Prefecture has internal traitors providing support—this chain of events is definitely not a trap that a mere Red Lotus Sect could set.

The people behind them know the ins and outs of the Great Zhou court clearly, and they even know my mobilization habits clearly.

If you lead five thousand heavy cavalry north, how could they not have calculated it? What is waiting for you on Huangyun Dao is likely a trap already dug."

The generals in the hall looked at each other, their faces changing.

The Zhennan Prince slowly stood up, and the grandmaster chair made a dull sound.

His stature is not tall, even half a head shorter than the guards beside him, but that sense of oppression is like a physical force, making the air in the entire main hall stagnate.

"Pass the order." His voice sounded like metal scraping against bluestone. "Two things."

All the officers straightened their backs at once.

"First, order the Cangwu Pass garrison commander Zhou Polu to lead his eight thousand troops to march east immediately, detour along the north side of Huangyun Dao, and cut off the Red Lotus Sect's retreat.

It is not to reinforce Lianshan Prefecture, but to cut off their grain supply line. Lianshan Prefecture can be lost, but not a single person from the Red Lotus Sect must walk out of Huangyun Dao alive."

"Second," the Zhennan Prince's gaze swept across the generals in the hall and finally landed on Zhou Jinghuan.

He paused for a moment, then moved his gaze away, landing on a young man standing in the corner. "Lao Er."

Everyone turned their heads in unison.

A youth stood in the corner, looking no more than seventeen or eighteen years old, with delicate features and a thin frame, appearing somewhat out of place among the group of armored generals.

He is Zhou Jingzhao, the second son of the Zhennan Prince; frail since childhood and unversed in sword or horse, he had almost no presence in this place that prizes martial strength, the Southern Frontier.

The Zhennan Prince looked at him, remained silent for a moment, and spoke words that no one had expected.

"Take the Wangfu's personal guard battalion and go to Wofeng Prefecture."

Zhou Jingzhao was stunned for a moment: "Wofeng Prefecture?"

"Yes, Wofeng Prefecture." The Zhennan Prince's gaze was as deep as an ancient well, "That place is wedged on the southeastern edge and looks unremarkable, but if the Red Lotus Sect is blocked on the Huangyun Dao, they will sooner or later turn south to seek a breakthrough."

"Although Wofeng Prefecture lacks heavy troops, it is adjacent to the Southern Frontier's grain supply route; once it is seized by others, my iron cavalry on the front lines will become like duckweed without roots."

"After you go, I do not ask you to kill the enemy, but to do only one thing—keep Wofeng Prefecture stable."

Zhou Jingzhao opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to ask why he, a second son who had never been on a battlefield, was being sent to shoulder such a heavy responsibility, but when he met his father's gaze, he suddenly could not ask anything at all.

In those eyes were too many things he could not understand.

"Jingzhao accepts the order." He lowered his head and cupped his hands, his voice not loud, yet unusually calm.

The Zhennan Prince nodded, turned around, and with his back to the hall full of generals and officers, looked at the massive map of the territory hanging on the wall.

The territory of the Great Zhou dynasty appeared incomparably vast under the lamplight, and those small flags marking the movements of the Red Lotus Sect were like clusters of blood-red flames, spreading from the southeast toward the northwest.

His gaze crossed the Huangyun Dao, crossed Lianshan Prefecture, crossed the Capital, and finally landed on that land of the Southern Frontier he had guarded for twenty years.

"Twenty years," the Zhennan Prince said in a low voice, as if talking to himself, or as if speaking to someone not present, "have you finally been unable to restrain yourselves?"

The hall was so quiet that the dropping of a needle could be heard. No one knew to whom the Prince was speaking, but everyone felt a chill as if a storm were about to break.

And in that unremarkable gap in the southeastern corner of the Great Zhou dynasty's territory, Wofeng Prefecture, like a silent Shitou, was quietly waiting for the wind that belonged to it.