Chapter 202

Hexi.

Kunshan!

This mountain is not far from Taikang City, the most bustling hub of Hexi.

Kunshan towers, majestic and towering!

As a natural barrier, it blocks all cold air coming from the north; north of the mountain, one must wear cotton garments to withstand the chill.

South of Kunshan, spring warms and flowers bloom.

This mountain also serves as a military stronghold; any northern force wishing to advance southward into Daqing's Hexi must pass through this pass.

Yet its paths are perilously steep, like a heavenly ladder hanging upside down—only a single winding plank trail clings to sheer cliffs thousands of ren high; marching here, both men and horses struggle, and supply losses are even greater, making it truly a losing endeavor.

Along the way, before even reaching Hexi's borders, the military pay has already reached astronomical numbers.

Losing more than gaining!

For years, the northern wind has chosen other routes—either through Hulao Pass or crossing Fengling Ferry.

Avoiding the hardship of Kunshan.

An ancient saying goes: "The path of Kunshan is harder than ascending to heaven."

It perfectly captures the mountain's peril.

Yet in recent years, a single figure emerged, forcing the northern wind to reconsider crossing Kunshan's dangers!

Faced with the Lu family army and Lu Chen, they would rather face Kunshan.

At the southern foot of Kunshan lies the vast expanse of Hexi.

Beyond a few low hills scattered at the mountain's base, the mountains fade, giving way to an open plain.

These so-called hills are merely small mounds.

Three riders sat atop one such hill.

Far off, a cavalry unit of several hundred men gathered in a cluster, seemingly searching for something.

The three riders.

One was an old man holding a tobacco pipe.

One was an elderly man in brocade robes.

And one wore a terrifying yin-yang ghost mask.

The old man with the tobacco pipe was slight of build, shorter than the others on horseback, dressed in patched coarse hemp clothing, ordinary in appearance, and smiled to reveal a mouth of blackened, smoke-stained teeth.

On horseback, the old man smoked his pipe, exhaling clouds of smoke, looking utterly at ease!

The man in brocade robes stood taller than the old man, his face clean-shaven and gaunt, long-faced, with snow-white eyebrows, his eyes tense as he watched the three hundred cavalrymen in the distance.

The most striking of the three was the man in front!

He was tall and slender!

Dressed in light armor, his long hair fell over his shoulders, his face covered by a horrifying yin-yang ghost mask, gender indistinguishable, terrifying to behold.

Only a pair of clear, elegant eyes were visible.

The three gazed at the cavalry unit, barely a hundred zhang away.

Composed of over three hundred horsemen.

The man in brocade robes frowned deeply, his worry plain to see.

He could no longer suppress his anxiety and blurted out:

"Master, have we advanced too recklessly into enemy territory? Those Hexi mountain bandits are no trivial force—if disaster strikes…"

The one wearing the ghost mask merely turned his horse slightly, saying nothing.

The snort of his steed rang out sharply in the tense air.

The old man with the tobacco pipe remained calm and composed.

He slowly exhaled his last puff of smoke and smiled easily:

"Grand Supervisor, do not worry. We are only two hundred li from Taikang Camp; should trouble arise, reinforcements will arrive instantly. As for those Hexi 'bandits,' they're merely a rabble—how could they compare to the glorious reputation of our Qianyuan Iron Cavalry?"

"'Merely'? Two hundred li…" the man in brocade robes chuckled bitterly, his tone heavy with helplessness.

If it were anyone else!

The man in brocade robes would have already cursed them to hell—but this old man with the pipe was no ordinary man.

"Your Excellency, you don't understand: these Hexi 'bandits' are secretly backed by Zhou Xuan, the Heavenly King of Taikang City."

"They are not only well-equipped and mounted on sturdy horses, but also rigorously trained—their combat strength far exceeds that of ordinary bandits."

Hexi has long been under Zhou Xuan's control.

Zhou Xuan was once the Sixth Prince of Daqing, ambitious and self-proclaimed Heavenly King, commanding a force of one hundred thousand elite troops.

Even as a prince, he had overseen Hexi's military affairs, winning deep loyalty and immense prestige among the soldiers.

After the Battle of Mount Zhongnan, he decisively declared himself king, leveraging Hexi's natural defenses to become a regional sovereign.

In Hexi, Zhou Xuan established the Heavenly King's Mansion.

He also personally built a full imperial bureaucracy, its scale identical to that of the official court—clear evidence of his ambition.

This land!

Besides being famed for its abundant aquatic produce—where rice costs more than fish—it also benefits from Kunshan's natural defenses and the fertile plains carved by rivers, its fields blanketed in paddy.

A true treasure, drawing the greed of countless others.

Not only because of its rich resources!

But also because of the "infamous" mountain bandits and river pirates.

Every year, the Heavenly King's Mansion in Taikang sends heavy forces to suppress them, unaware that the largest of these factions are in fact the Mansion's own "blades," using the bandit guise to intimidate Hexi's noble families.

Should any noble family dare defy the Heavenly King's Mansion, the bandits and pirates descend like wolves and tigers, showing no mercy.

"Master, we are only three men—if we are exposed, what then?"

The man in brocade robes fretted.

"Moreover, Taikang Camp is two hundred li away; the enemy is numerous—we may be dead before even crossing into Taikang's territory, pierced by a storm of arrows." His voice dripped with dread.

The old man smoking his pipe merely smiled, calm and assured:

"Ah, Grand Supervisor, you worry too much. We have heaven's aid on this journey—how could we fare so poorly?"

"My luck has always been excellent."

The man in brocade robes felt even more helpless upon hearing this.

The Master's noble status, his priceless body—how could he risk himself so lightly!

The old man continued smoking, utterly unconcerned.

Had any Qianyuan soldier been here,

they would have recognized this old man with the tobacco pipe.

He was none other than the famed "Ragged Chancellor" of Qianyuan—Gong Sun Pingxi.

Gong Sun Pingxi, a descendant of great Confucian scholars, displayed extraordinary talent and wisdom from childhood.

He once served as the head of the Jixia Academy in Chu, the sacred heart of Confucian learning, holding the highest scholarly honor.

His profound knowledge earned him the reverence and devotion of countless students.

He won the reverence and devotion of countless students through his profound scholarship.

Just as his fame reached its zenith, he proposed a shocking doctrine:

"At birth, human nature is evil."

This view directly contradicted Confucianism's centuries-old teaching: "At birth, human nature is good."

"What separates humans from beasts is not innate nature, but human action."

"Humans are not moral because they cannot avoid virtue—they are moral because they know they ought to be virtuous, and thus strive for goodness."

His words sent shockwaves through the empire.

Countless Confucian scholars branded him a heretic, condemning him with words and ink, accusing him of betraying Confucian orthodoxy.

In the Great Chu Dynasty, where Confucian thought dominated governance,

such views were a direct challenge to imperial authority and orthodoxy.

Such remarks were undoubtedly a tremendous challenge to imperial authority and orthodoxy.

Gong Sun Pingxi was stripped of all titles and honors by the Chu Emperor for this "grave disrespect," exiled to the frontier, and reduced to slavery.

He spent twenty years as a slave.

As he grew older, deemed useless, he was sold by Chu to Qianyuan.

A merchant once traded three sheepskins for Gong Sun Pingxi.

At the time, a merchant exchanged three sheepskins for Gongsun Pingxi.

Gong Sun Pingxi rose swiftly through the ranks, becoming Chancellor of Qianyuan, the highest civil official.

And that merchant? He was none other than Qianyuan's Sixth Princess—

now the Empress of Qianyuan.

Twenty years of slavery transformed the once refined Gong Sun Pingxi into a man who smoked a tobacco pipe.

Even now, holding high office and wealth,

he still wore the tattered hemp garments of his slave days.

In Qianyuan's court, he was known as the "Ragged Chancellor."

On the court of Qian Yuan, he was also called the "Ragged Chancellor."

He said:

"If I do not help His Majesty pacify the realm, I shall not remove this robe for a single day."

This robed elder was also a major figure of Qianyuan—the Grand Eunuch, the Empress's lifelong personal attendant since childhood.

"Bad!"

The robed elder sensed that the bandits in the distance had discovered their trail.

Amidst swirling dust, the three hundred iron cavalry surged forward like a whirlwind.

At this critical moment!

The robed elder urgently urged his master to flee immediately.

"Master, hurry and go!"

Yet the masked figure remained eerily calm, merely guiding his horse gently, his gaze fixed silently upon the approaching army.

Gong Sun Pingxi tucked away his smoke pipe, slipped it into his belt, and spread his hands:

"At this distance, if we run back, won't we just leave our backs exposed to them? And we're still within range of their bows and crossbows—isn't that suicide?"

The robed elder was already frantic.

He wanted to spur his horse and flee.

But his master was still here—he could not move!

In an instant.

The three hundred cavalry surged forward like a tidal wave, surrounding the group completely.

Though unarmored in heavy plate, their tightly gripped blades and bows slung across their backs clearly marked them as formidable warriors—far beyond ordinary bandits.

The leader's equipment was especially refined; his helmet and chainmail gleamed with a chilling luster in the sunlight.

His gaze locked fixedly onto Gong Sun Pingxi and the other two.

The surrounding bandits wore mismatched garb, each wielding swords, whistling, eyes fierce.

"Where do you think you're running now?"

The leader's voice was cold and hostile as he stared at Gong Sun Pingxi.

"Was it you three who just killed my brother?"

The robed elder, seeing the gleaming blades in the bandits' hands, felt a surge of fear.

He gripped the reins tightly, sweat soaking his palms.

Recalling how his master had slain five or six bandits in one breath to rescue a village under attack, only to draw this three-hundred-man pursuit, his anxiety deepened.

At this moment, he nearly blurted out his master's true identity to intimidate these bandits.

Gong Sun Pingxi, mounted on his horse, chuckled at the bandit leader:

"Chief, I had nothing to do with the killings."

Yet.

The bandit leader clearly did not believe him; his gaze shifted between Gong Sun Pingxi and the other two, finally settling on the masked figure.

"Playing ghostly tricks? Pay for my brother's life!"

"Kill them, hang their corpses in the village—see who dares refuse to pay grain!"

The bandit leader gave another order.

"Don't harm the horses—they're fine steeds!"

Facing the hostile stares of the surrounding bandits, though terrified, the robed elder still trembled as he stepped forward to shield his master.

"Enough, Old Li. Step back."

From behind the mask came a voice, stern and commanding.

Yet the surrounding bandits fell silent—then burst into roaring laughter.

The leader laughed heartily:

"So she's a woman! Brothers, don't kill her—line up nicely, take turns!"

"Hope she's not a hideous hag under that mask."

The robed elder, hearing this, burned with rage and roared:

"Insolent!"

The bandits paid no heed.

"Attack!"

The bandits surged forward with swords and blades, surrounding them front and back, danger everywhere.

The leader had been watching coldly from the sidelines.

But soon!

His smile froze, replaced by utter terror.

The masked figure, riding alone, slashed back and forth—over a dozen men cut cleanly in half.

"This!"

In moments.

The grassland was littered with corpses.

"This… how is this possible!"

The masked figure spun a sword flourish—everyone present, save himself, lay slashed open in pools of blood.

As the masked figure rode closer,

the leader remained stunned, staring at the crimson demon mask, his voice trembling:

"Are you… man or ghost?" But no answer came.

For in the next instant, the masked figure charged—cutting the leader clean in two, man and horse alike.

Blood gushed like a waterfall!

The robed elder, witnessing it all, wore a face of utter disbelief.

He rarely accompanied his master onto the battlefield; most of his life was spent serving in the palace—he had never seen such a bloody, magnificent spectacle.

Gong Sun Pingxi cried out loudly: "Your Majesty—magnificent!"

The masked figure lightly flicked the blood from her blade, sheathed it, and slid it into her saddle.

Slowly, she removed her mask.

Revealing a face!

Of breathtaking beauty, yet with arched brows and phoenix eyes radiating martial grandeur.

The woman was Qianyuan's Empress—Wu Ying.

Wu Ying spread her arms, feeling the rising breeze, and smiled softly:

"I've entered the Heavenly-Person realm!"

She gazed up at the distant sky, where an eagle soared over the majestic Kunshan.

"Who says a woman cannot be emperor?"

"Wu Ying shall inherit my ancestors' legacy, command the empire's armies, forge unparalleled glory, and shatter the void with martial power!"

Behind Wu Ying, Gong Sun Pingxi smiled faintly, took out his smoke pipe again, and began puffing clouds.

Wu Ying replaced her mask, restoring her mysterious, inscrutable guise.

She spoke gravely:

"Let's go—back to the camp by Hexi. With Zhou Xuan's forces, we shall seize Jiangnan."

"To Jiangnan—to meet that Young Protector of Mount Zhongnan!"

(End of Chapter)