Chapter 3: Chapter Three: Misfortune Strikes

The arrow sliced through the sky.

Fast, precise, brutal.

Beneath his wide-brimmed hat, Dou Changsheng’s eyes were filled with intense focus, not daring to slacken for an instant.

His heart had risen to his throat.

Since his reincarnation, Dou Changsheng had faced many dangers, crawling and stumbling his way forward—he was no longer the pampered youth he had been before. But nothing had ever been as perilous as today.

Next, he must cut the arrow with his sword—if he missed, and Wang Xiong the Iron-Clad Lion realized and turned back for a counterattack, Dou Changsheng knew he would die without doubt.

His future self, at twenty, was a Heavenly Talent on the Human List, with profound primordial qi like a vast river—while he himself had only one month’s cultivation. Of course, if he understood sword techniques, footwork, and combat experience, he might still stand a chance.

After all, Wang Xiong the Iron-Clad Lion was formidable—skilled with bow and horse, with steel bones and iron flesh—but he was still only a post-heavenly martial artist.

Yet his future self was a Heavenly Talent on the Human List; even one month’s cultivation equaled ten times that of an ordinary person—several years’ worth—plus the purity and quality of primordial qi far surpassed post-heavenly qi, making him already extremely powerful.

But the problem was, Dou Changsheng himself was just a showy poseur.

That little bit of fighting skill he possessed could only be called street brawling—how could it possibly match Wang Xiong?

Focusing intently on the incoming arrow, Dou Changsheng slowly raised his rusted longsword, exhaling primordial qi, intending to sever the arrow outright—but when the primordial qi touched the arrow,

the arrow began to disintegrate inch by inch, vanishing instantly into the heavens and earth.

A single arrow had been completely shattered.

The power of primordial qi was now undeniably evident.

Seeing this, the knot in Dou Changsheng’s throat loosened, his heart sinking back into place.

His mind steadied.

He smiled lightly and said, “You say.”

“This primordial qi?”

“Is it real?”

“Or fake?”

Wang Xiong, who had already lunged forward, his hand nearly grasping the longbow, suddenly retracted his arm, stomped the ground again with force, kicking up a cloud of dust, then surged forward like a hunting leopard toward a distant corner.

Even picking up the longbow would only delay him slightly—but Wang Xiong dared not risk it.

Though the arrow was wooden, its tip was specially forged—not ordinary steel, but mixed with refined gold, granting it armor-piercing properties. For this mission to succeed without fail, Wang Xiong had sold everything to buy this special longbow and the armor-piercing arrows laced with refined gold.

To be shattered so easily by primordial qi—this was unquestionably primordial qi.

Wang Xiong moved with precision; after darting into the corner, he immediately lifted a stone slab on the ground, revealing a dark, deep tunnel before him—he plunged straight in.

Dou Changsheng watched as the dust slowly settled, Wang Xiong vanished without a trace. He scanned the surroundings, clearly seeing the street empty—no living soul remained.

Such martial conflicts were uncommon, yet not rare.

Given the local customs, no one would dare crowd around to watch, for some truly went blood-mad and slaughtered indiscriminately.

Though they dared not watch openly, they could hide in corners or peer through narrow cracks in windows—Dou Changsheng knew this well, for before today, he himself had watched martial artists clash in exactly this way.

Dou Changsheng did not pause for a moment, turning to walk toward the county magistrate’s office, slowly sheathing the three-foot-long sword in his hand.

Primordial qi was far stronger than he had imagined.

This proved it was no ordinary primordial qi—his future self’s main cultivation scripture must be of high rank.

What he now lacked most was a scripture—no, a reliable person to guide him into proper cultivation.

He couldn’t help but feel resentment: why had his first benefactor, the Black Eagle Elder, failed him? Why had Wang Xiong detected and exposed him, preventing him from arriving in time? This could have been a perfect opening—he could have emulated his future self.

Finally, Dou Changsheng sighed inwardly—he could only say his luck was terrible, that Wang Xiong had chosen him as a scapegoat, causing a butterfly effect where the same event unfolded differently.

In truth, this was just self-consolation; Dou Changsheng strongly suspected his own script was the hard mode, while the other’s was simple.

Look at Wang Xiong the Iron-Clad Lion—cunning, ruthless, powerful—how could he possibly be a background thug who’d just get killed off during a simple silver raid?

In his future self’s story, Wang Xiong was a character who appeared and immediately died.

Dou Changsheng took a deep breath, then exhaled heavily, calming his turbulent emotions.

Before Dou Changsheng reached the county magistrate’s office, he was surrounded by a squad of constables.

Along with the constables came the Golden Feather Guards, each bearing longswords—layer upon layer, inside and out, tightly encircling Dou Changsheng, the street now completely blocked.

Clearly, all government offices in Junxian had received word and immediately dispatched personnel.

Dou Changsheng immediately unslung his pack and raised it high with one hand, speaking in a deep voice: “This is border army pay.”

“Stolen by Wang Xiong the Iron-Clad Lion—now reclaimed by me.”

“I was on my way to the magistrate’s office to deliver it to the imperial court.”

“I have not opened the package—nothing has been touched. Now that I’ve met you, I return it intact.”

Dou Changsheng slowly lowered his arm and extended his hand in a gesture of offering. One constable and one Golden Feather Guard stepped forward, exchanged glances, then the constable stepped back, letting the Golden Feather Guard advance. The guard reached out, took the pack, but did not inspect it immediately—instead, he slowly retreated and handed it to a man clad in silver armor.

The silver-armored man’s slender hand seized the pack and tore it apart—inside, countless gemstones, each the size of a fingernail, spilled out instantly.

The gems glowed crimson, like human blood, radiating an eerie, unnatural luster.

With a flick of his wrist, the man exhaled qi, like mist and clouds, lifting the gems into the air.

Amid swirling vapor, each gem resembled a crimson star—beautiful, alluring, dazzling, utterly magnificent.

“Indeed, pure yang blood. It seems the governor’s office can no longer hold out—they’ve had a Pure Yang Master sever his own life force to supply border army pay.”

“This demon’s machinations are ruining the state!”

“Infuriating!”

The silver-armored man erupted in rage, openly cursing before the crowd. All around fell silent—no one dared to argue; instead, everyone’s faces darkened with anger.

“Hero, thank you for returning the border army pay.”

“But I must depart immediately for Jianmen Pass to personally deliver this pay—I cannot properly entertain you.”

“Please forgive me.”

The silver-armored man bowed his fists to Dou Changsheng in apology. Dou Changsheng quickly replied: “The border army’s plight affects the whole realm—my personal affairs are unimportant.”

“Just provide me with a swift horse.”

Wang Xiong may be formidable, but if I ride fast enough, gallop away, his threat will be over.

The silver-armored man waved his hand and declared: “As the hero wishes—here is a swift horse.”

No sooner had the silver-armored man finished speaking than a distant, ethereal voice called out: “Wait!”

Dou Changsheng turned toward the voice and saw an old man stepping through the air, each step bringing him closer—wearing a black robe that flapped in the wind, his eyes sharp as an eagle’s.

His nose was high and straight, his white beard long, his appearance striking—his piercing gaze locked onto the silver-armored man as he spoke sternly: “Ling Qianxu.”

“I do not trust you.”

“Though you hail from the north, you have served in the capital’s Golden Feather Guards. Wang Xiong the Iron-Clad Lion’s precise ambush on the pay convoy was made possible only by an inside traitor leaking information—someone intervened at the critical moment, causing the governor’s escorting swordsmen to die.”

“The commander of Jianmen Pass has been swayed by the Hu Ren—he is wavering. If this pay does not arrive on time to calm the border troops, he will open the gates and let the Hu Ren in.”

“The Hu Ren are brutal—if they enter, countless lives will be slaughtered.”

“Yet this demon minister, for his own selfish gain, disregards righteousness and now frames the Grand General.”

“Worst of all, some, for power and promotion, have abandoned all principles and allied themselves with this demon.”

Ling Qianxu roared in fury: “Black Eagle Elder, are you accusing me?”

“I, Ling Qianxu, was born in the north—my family and friends are all here. If the Hu Ren enter, my parents and kin will not survive.”

“Do you think I am the kind of madman who would sacrifice his entire clan for advancement?”

“Since the Grand General was entrusted by the late emperor to guard the north, the Hu Ren disturbances have gradually subsided—over a decade of peace. Who among the people of the north does not owe the Grand General gratitude?”

The Black Eagle Elder did not look at Ling Qianxu—he turned to Dou Changsheng and said: “I must trouble you, young hero. Please escort the pay to Jianmen Pass.”

“The Grand General is imprisoned; the governor’s office is leaderless—short on manpower.”

“I cannot trust these men—I can only trust someone like you, a scion of a distinguished family.”

“Most in the realm will collude with the demon minister—but the Wang clan of Xiangzhou will not.”

“The Wang clan of Xiangzhou is famed throughout the Nine Continents for loyalty and courage. Their ancestral scripture, the Three Yuan Return Qi Art, cultivates loyalty, courage, and love.”

“To be blunt—even if you harbor dark thoughts, for the sake of your family’s reputation, you would still honor your word.”

Dou Changsheng slowly shook his head and refused outright: “I am Dou Changsheng—I have no relation to the Xiangzhou Wang clan. You are mistaken, elder.”

This Xiangzhou Wang clan must be that great family—the Wangs.

Clearly, the other guy got the easy script: he fought a demon, showed courage, and was immediately recognized by the Wangs, even betrothed to their eldest daughter—how absurd.

Shouldn’t the eldest daughter already have been promised in marriage?

The Black Eagle Elder froze, surprised he had made a mistake. He had earned his name, “Black Eagle,” through his eagle-like vision—keen, precise, never wrong.

Yet that primordial qi—he had seen it multiple times during his travels in Xiangzhou—it was unmistakably the Three Yuan Return Qi Art.

At this age, to have reached primordial realm—unless from a great clan, how could he be a lone cultivator?

Some things don’t vanish just because you deny them.

In an instant, the Black Eagle Elder understood: this was a core disciple of the Xiangzhou Wang clan, sent secretly to support the Grand General.

The Grand General’s wrongful imprisonment had shaken not only Great Jin, but also Great Chen in the south, Great Qin in the west, and Great Qi in the east—all were talking.

The Wang clan dared not send their senior elders to openly defy the court, so they dispatched a core disciple under a false name to support the Grand General.

This warmed the Black Eagle Elder’s heart—after the Grand General’s imprisonment, too many had kicked him while he was down; those who stood by him were too few.

To reach primordial realm before twenty—this one could challenge the Human List, a true heavenly prodigy, the future pillar of the Xiangzhou Wang clan—and yet he had volunteered for such a dangerous mission. It proved the Wang clan’s deep commitment.

The Black Eagle Elder was moved—his eyes grew moist, tears welling, nearly spilling over. He restrained himself, his tone softening from its earlier harshness: “Yes, I was mistaken.”

“But what do you say, young hero?”

Dou Changsheng shook his head immediately: “I am unskilled—I know no sword techniques, no fist methods. My only advantage is this primordial qi. If I escort the pay, I’d only be a burden to you, elder.”

“Please choose someone more capable.”

What nonsense.

With these two swords of his, he was barely escaping the storm’s vortex—how could he possibly charge into it on purpose?

Here, the Hu Ren and Great Jin are locked in struggle; moreover, the General of the Northern Frontier has amassed such great merit that he threatens the throne, commanding no fewer than two hundred thousand elite troops from the northern lands—all seasoned veterans who have fought the Hu Ren for years.

Since the new emperor ascended the throne, he has not slept a single night in peace.

When the General of the Northern Frontier was imprisoned, Dou Changsheng heard the rumor more than once: the military headquarters was planning rebellion, seeking alliance with the Hu people, and raising an army of five hundred thousand to march south.

At this moment, it won’t be just Wang Xiong—people ten times, a hundred times more formidable than him will appear.

Dou Changsheng chose to refuse, and the Black Eagle Elder’s smile grew even brighter.

That’s the flavor—exactly this flavor.

The General’s imprisonment happened too quickly, leaving this Wang clan scion—no, Dou Changsheng—now only skilled in the Wang family’s ultimate techniques. The Three Yuan Return Qi Art is his main cultivation method, its signature too obvious to conceal; there’s no help for it, but his swordplay and unarmed combat must be hidden.

If you practice the Three Yuan Return Qi Art and wield the Wang family’s sword techniques, who would believe you’re not a Wang clan member?

The Black Eagle Elder volunteered: “I’ve cultivated for decades. Though my talent is dull and I’ve achieved little, I’ve traveled within the military headquarters and seen many cultivation arts.”

“Right now, I have a primordial sword art I’m willing to pass on to the young hero.”

“As payment for your recovery of the military payroll and your escort mission.”

The Black Eagle Elder knew full well Dou Changsheng would agree—he was merely pretending to be forced into it.

If things eventually came to light, he could shift blame and avoid implicating his family: “See? I was coerced—I never meant to do this.”

Seeing Dou Changsheng still shaking his head, the Black Eagle Elder stepped forward, seized his shoulder, grabbed the military payroll, and walked toward the city gate together.

Feeling Dou Changsheng’s feeble resistance, the Black Eagle Elder smiled.

Look at this strength.

It’s less than a rabbit’s.

Remember, this is a primordial cultivator—if he truly resisted, how could I possibly coerce him?

Poor thing, the Wang clan scion is truly a good person.

The Black Eagle Elder, moved to tears, patted Dou Changsheng’s shoulder and said: “Sir!”

“Truly, a peerless statesman!”