Chapter 132: Willing to Be Your Vanguard, Through Boiling Water and Blazing Blades!

Pojun's eyes fixed on the silver-haired girl across the way; the curious Tiele child beside him was pressed down by the head and casually shoved out of the courtyard, and then a thin layer of breath circulated, veiling this place.

Pojun's expression was calm; he had the bearing of a scholar, yet he held not a folding fan but a sword.

His manner was composed, only his pupils glowed with an uncanny violet as he looked at the quiet silver-haired girl; both possessed looks beyond the mundane, and qualities beyond the common lot. Pojun said: "Silver Hair… I have long heard that this generation's Yaoguang is the offspring of *that person*."

"Your father is already…, yet he still sent you to the door of the Star-Gazing lineage of the Shiwaisan Sect; he truly places great hopes in you, wanting you to walk to the very extreme of the path of formations."

"I wonder to what extent you have cultivated your father's scroll of formation charts, and the star formations of the Star-Gazing lineage?"

Yaoguang looked quietly at Pojun.

The handsome youth before her radiated an eager, provocative air from head to toe.

The surrounding breath was gathering — this was the challenge issued when the Shiwaisan Sect discovered one another in the mortal world.

She considered how to handle this situation.

The girl's expression was calm; her eyes lowered to her book.

Her fingers were Bai Xi and slender; she casually turned a page, her voice quiet, rippleless:

"You arrived earlier than me."

Pojun's motion froze for a moment.

The sword-drawn, bow-string tension of a moment ago solidified on the spot.

Then the corner of his mouth twitched upward, pressed firmly down, then twitched up again — several times in succession — before his hand closed into a fist, pressed against his lips; with eyes closed he coughed once, lifted his chin, and said: "Ah, mm, cough, cough, this, after all, is me, so it is only right!"

The silver-haired girl was quiet; her pupils stirred no ripple.

In her eyes, the beautiful youth over there grinned smugly, almost bursting into bloom.

Mm.

The Pojun lineage is all proud and self-assured; this saves the most effort.

The girl quietly turned the pages of her book; her pupils stirred no ripple.

Very simple.

And Pojun, hands clasped behind his back, spoke at length; those words went in the girl's left ear and out her right, until at last Pojun's hand closed into a fist against his lips, he coughed once, and said: "So, you have also come to assist him?"

Yaoguang's finger pressed the spot her gaze had just passed, and in a quiet voice answered:

"I think his breadth of mind is enough for the two of us to assist him together."

"In a chaotic age, there must be the bearing of a hero and a benevolent lord."

"What is called the vessel of a hero."

And so a proud and approving smile rose on Pojun's face.

The smile could not be held back.

Yaoguang thought for a moment, felt it was rather like a certain big dog she had once seen down the mountain; she felt that if everyone were an animal, then the handsome military advisor before her would be wagging his tail fast enough to leave an afterimage.

It was a smug, self-satisfied posture.

That smugness lay in his own eye for talent, and in the person he acknowledged.

Pojun held his expression in place, and said with unhurried composure:

"Hmph, mere Yaoguang, to have such insight as well, but still—"

"You really understand!"

Light shone in the young strategist's eyes; he walked over, keeping himself within the safe range of Yaoguang's lineage, then lifted the sword in his hand and sketched characters and patterns on the ground, saying:

"Good, good — he has Wu Gong, he has bearing, and he has the great ambition to sweep clean the world; hmm, with you and me working together, in this age of opportunity on every side, his surpassing the great sect of eight hundred years ago and that lord of five hundred years ago is more than enough."

"Although my period of observation has not been long, I have already gathered some gains; the ills of the world, and his ten-out-of-ten advantages of victory — let me slowly explain to you…"

The silver-haired girl quietly read her book.

The speed at which she turned the pages did not change.

Pojun was in high spirits.

His nature was proud, but when facing others of the Shiwaisan Sect, especially once he confirmed he had truly won, he too would change somewhat.

At last he waited until Pojun had finished his last point.

It was yesterday, when he learned that Li Xingyi had charged the enemy formation, and spoke of the lad's youthful heart-fire, his blazing breath. Pojun said: "Even the Seventh Prince of the Turks has come to recognize it — this is the bearing of a hero; he said he felt that, if the Lord did not die, one day they would meet upon the battlefield."

"Eight hundred years ago, the Red Emperor in his youth was merely a wandering knight with a sword; the Hegemon once tidied up bandits for the common folk; even the powerful minister of five hundred years ago, in his youth, rode with sword at his side, doing the wild things of youth — able, at the post of guarding a city gate, to fiercely slay a powerful eunuch."

"Since ancient times, heroes in their youth have all possessed a youthful heart-fire."

"Strategy alone cannot gain a foothold in this chaotic age; although I have not yet encountered such a person, my teacher, and the Pojun who followed that generation's Hegemon eight hundred years ago, have both left behind similar words: strategy is important, but strategy is not the most important."

The youth suddenly sighed: "What on earth is it, then?"

"The so-called spirit of a hero, the so-called personal charisma, that decisiveness that can stake everything, and the heroic bearing that naturally draws people to gather around one — within the chaos of the world, the importance of these is no less than strategy; indeed, *decisiveness* surpasses *strategy*."

"I do not understand it."

"He said he does not understand either; perhaps once I have seen those so-called mighty heroes, I will understand."

Pojun wore a faint smile, tapped his own head, and said: "Read the records."

"When the founder spoke of these matters, he was smiling; he said that so-called heroes are, for the most part, fellows who are not bright — at least not in our eyes — and they will do many things that seem foolish to strategists."

"They'll pick up a sword and dare, alongside the local pig-slaughterer, the vegetable-seller, the funeral-parlor man, to rebel against the world — it's simply like seeking death."

"They will turn back into a great army for an abandoned pawn; they will stand at the very front; for their sworn brothers they will cast aside an emperor's grand enterprise and fight with all their might, unto death and without regret; for the sake of a decisive duel with some enemy they will abandon the entire grand situation."

"But it is precisely these fellows who, like flames, draw those who share great aspirations to appear at their side; the so-called heroic bearing, the charisma of a leader — that is the unreasonable nature of the thing."

"Strategists are cunning by nature; what we practice is the treacherous way of the military art."

"But my teacher said—"

"Without the treacherous way, victory in battle is hard to win; yet with the treacherous way alone, one cannot achieve a great victory. It can defeat a man, but not the world."

"Those who win the realm through scheming and dark treachery — their dynasty does not last long!"

"The four words: open, magnanimous, upright, great."

Sometimes its weight truly cannot be compared to any calculation of advantage and loss.

Po Jun sighed as he spoke of the boy's strengths and flaws, almost as if boasting—his words were too many, too scattered, too noisy for the silver-haired girl's reading. She paused, then spoke in a calm voice:

"His cooking is excellent—that's a strength."

"The pastries made with milk, butter, and honey differ greatly from those in Jiangnan."

The girl closed the scroll she had finished reading, her eyes fixed on the handsome young man before her, her voice quiet: "Have you eaten them?"

Po Jun's triumphant expression froze: "…………"

"Hm?"

"Hm?!!!"

He had said so much, yet one sentence shattered him. He twitched his lips, about to speak, when a commotion came from outside. Po Jun turned and saw the boy had arrived—he beamed and rushed forward. "Lord."

The boy halted, turned back—the branches of the trees swayed slightly.

The silver-haired girl was gone.

Is this the art of Yao Guang?

Li Guanyi entered, followed by the young Tian Kehan, Qi Bi Li. Li Guanyi pointed to Po Jun ahead, paused, then said plainly to Qi Bi Li behind him: "Po Jun, my strategist."

Po Jun smiled, but sensed something different from usual.

Then Li Guanyi pointed to Qi Bi Li and said: "Khan of one of the Nine Clans of Tiele, Qi Bi Li."

Po Jun smiled: "Long heard of your renown, Khan Qi Bi Li."

They walked into Li Guanyi's courtyard. As the boy entered, he instinctively glanced toward the corner, certain a girl should be there—he saw no one, so he lowered his gaze and sat down in the yard.

Po Jun stood to the boy's right.

Qi Bi Li stood to his left.

Li Guanyi sat below the main hall.

Li Guanyi told them to sit. The two fell silent and took their seats. The children nearby were already distracted by the food. Li Guanyi outlined the situation to Po Jun, who immediately replied: "The Xue family and the Turkic Seven Kings' trade caravans could sustain ten Tiele clans."

"But what products do you, Khan, have to offer?"

Qi Bi Li said: "Furs, dried meat, some grain and herbs, and cattle and sheep."

He fell silent, then added: "And men—men who can fight."

Po Jun burst into loud laughter. "Fool!"

He spoke bluntly: "You value human lives too cheaply. Yes, this is a chaotic age—but precisely because it is chaotic, you must raise the price of your own lives… Don't throw yourselves away at others' beckoning. Wait for others to come recruit you."

"Don't undervalue your own life."

Qi Bi Li fell silent. "What should I do?"

Po Jun smiled: "First, bring your trade goods. If you want us to help, exchange them—keep only enough cattle and sheep to sustain your people's livelihood. Turn the rest into…"

Qi Bi Li asked: "Into what?"

Po Jun did not hesitate: "Horses!"

"Warhorses! Capable of long-range raids, adaptable to nearly all terrains!"

Qi Bi Li fell silent. Li Guanyi sat below the hall—he did not understand such matters, so he left it to Po Jun. Qi Bi Li turned his head and saw the boy seated calmly below, a breeze stirring, willow branches brushing his shoulders—clear, youthful, the pond's surface rippling.

Qi Bi Li nodded. "Good."

Po Jun asked: "What is the structure of your tribe?"

Qi Bi Li explained. Po Jun thought, then said:

"How about this—organize it like an army. Don't get angry, listen: from you, the Khan, down to the humblest villager, assign everyone a military rank. The world isn't fully in chaos yet, but the Western Regions already are."

"The remnants of Tuyuhun, the rise of Tangut, the Western Regions—even the Protectorate of Ying State."

"It's no longer enough to labor and feed your people. Daily life should remain hunting and herding, but at the first sign of trouble, you must instantly become an army. I'll design new tents—you'll be able to set up camps immediately."

Qi Bi Li said: "We have only a few thousand households."

Po Jun burst into loud laughter, wild and unrestrained. "A few thousand households?!" He stood, gripping the young Khan's shoulders, speaking slowly, each word deliberate: "Wrong. You are five thousand elite light cavalry, a roaming force—and their families."

Qi Bi Li's pupils contracted sharply.

This was the power of a top strategist—just one sentence shattered old limits. He looked at the young man before him, arms spread, smiling, handsome, violet light glimmering in his eyes: "Stop trading. It's wrong—fundamentally wrong."

"Wearing furs, tending livestock—this suits your barbarian nature. But a true hero should roam the world. Why settle for silk and brocade?"

Qi Bi Li's heart surged for an instant. He realized: this young man was a demon born to stir the battle-lust and desire in others. Po Jun said: "The Nine Clans of Tiele—protect yourself first, then earn renown by fighting small bands of fleeing Tuyuhun."

"The Tiele are already weakening. When they see your fame, the other clans will flock to you. That's when your opportunity comes. This is the second phase of strategy. When you become the common Khan of the Nine Clans, you'll have at least fifty thousand households—that's over a hundred thousand people."

"Then you must stabilize."

"Keep fighting, and a true great army will come to crush you."

"I recall, Lord, you have ties to the Ying State's Duke's Mansion. The Longxi Duke's Mansion needs mercenary bands to balance the Western Regions against Changsun Wu'chou and others. I, your Lord, will vouch for you—you can approach the Duke's Mansion in his name."

"At that time, the Tiele will have fame and strength, a hundred thousand people, able to farm and fight, enough to defend themselves."

"Then strike at the vital points of the Western Regions—cut off Tangut's link to Chen State, block the Jianghe River below, connect with Ying State and the Turks—this is the path to great dominion."

Po Jun's smile was bright and sincere.

He had laid a massive trap: once the Nine Clans of Tiele earned renown and pledged allegiance to the Duke's Mansion under Li Guanyi's name, they would naturally become tied to him—his vassal generals.

As for the later ambition of hegemony, that would not belong to the Tiele.

Qi Bi Li said: "... Thank you."

Po Jun smiled: "Naturally, naturally. No need for thanks."

Qi Bi Li took a deep breath. He truly saw the potential for his tribe's growth. He had considered himself clever—but he had never seen this far. He bowed to Li Guanyi: "Thank you, Your Excellency…"

"I shall repay this debt one day."

Po Jun nodded. The young man rose to see him off. Qi Bi Li reached the gate.

His eyes regained their luster—he saw the possibility of the Nine Clans of Tiele. He looked at the emaciated children, clenched his lips, and resolved: I must do it, no matter how hard.

Li Guanyi suddenly remembered something; he stood there, and Po Jun suddenly heard the boy sigh, softly saying: "Of course, heroes of the world are all gamblers."

"Qibili."

He called out; the Tian Kehan on the other side halted his steps. Po Jun's composure vanished as he saw the boy pull something from his bosom and throw it without hesitation. Po Jun's smile froze instantly, his pupils contracting violently.

It was a golden seal shaped like a fierce tiger.

Qibili raised his hand and caught the seal. His body froze in an instant, and Po Jun whirled around, grabbing Li Guanyi: "My lord, are you mad!? This thing—you—you!" He wanted to tell his lord what he had just done—that this might allow Qibili to truly rise to power.

Another flaw in his plan was that the Nine Tribes of the Tiele would turn on each other.

Thus, the Tiele would remain under Li Guanyi's command—but if he gave this away…

Even if we assume the worst, this would be a catastrophic loss. He had countless examples to show his lord how irrational this was.

Boom!!

Po Jun froze, whirling his head around to see Qibili—the young Khan who had traveled ten thousand li—suddenly kneeling on the ground before him, his knees and arms prostrate, his forehead slamming hard into the earth, blood streaming from it.

Only the Tiele, who struggled to survive, knew what this meant.

Their children might live together; they would no longer have to kill each other.

The nine surnames reunited once more.

Their elders would no longer have to walk alone into the grasslands to save grain for the tribe. Blood streamed from the Khan's forehead; he gritted his teeth, yet tears still fell in heavy drops. This mighty man, so fierce and proud, could not hold back his sobs as they coursed through the blood on his face.

He reached out, tore off the wolf's fang from his neck, and a faint aura began to leak out. The wind suddenly stirred, quickening.

Like the roar of a celestial wolf.

The aura solidified, clouds gathered, forming a celestial wolf behind the young Khan. The wolf raised its head and let out a low, thunderous roar—the manifestation only possible for those with the bearing of a hero of the world appeared. Li Guanyi's bronze tripod roared violently.

Previously, the aura had been suppressed by the ancestral relic, and Qibili had never unleashed his power.

Li Guanyi's realm was not high enough.

The bronze tripod had not sensed that faint aura.

Not a heaven-born dharma manifestation, but a world-class prodigy who had forged his manifestation through unwavering conviction in youth. Li Guanyi looked at the young Khan and suddenly remembered the first enemy he had faced in the Mystical Realm—the Tiele's Third Prince.

【That was a star from heaven fallen to earth, the legend of the Celestial Wolf from the highest heavens】

Five hundred years ago, the Tiele's strongest warrior, recognized and recorded by the greatest general of the world, Xue Shen, preserved in memory for posterity—the destiny of the Tiele Third Prince reappeared upon the earth after five centuries of spring and autumn.

The claws and fangs of the slumbering Celestial Wolf remained sharp, roaring low in the chaos of the age.

Po Jun whispered: "Tian Lang Star Destiny?!! A lord of a fierce hero."

And so the Celestial Wolf bowed its head before Bai Hu.

The young Khan, destined to become a famed general of the world, raised his hand. Blood streamed from his forehead, tears flowed down his face, his voice hoarse: "My life is yours. My blade shall fight for you—even if I die, bury me in your tomb. While alive, I shall fight to the death for you."

"And when dead, let me stand before your chariot!"

"I vow to walk through fire and boiling water for your edge!"

He bowed his head deeply.

Po Jun stood frozen, utterly bewildered—he truly could not understand how this had happened. But then he remembered the records: sometimes, heroes of the world are not clever. Yet only such men can sweep away chaos.

He looked at the boy. He knew Li Guanyi's nature—he knew the boy would smile, reach out to help him up, say with a rogue's ease, "No need for this," and clap him on the shoulder. But this time, Po Jun saw the boy turn around—his eyes held clouds and wind.

The boy extended his hand.

He spoke only one word.

"Good!"

Li Guanyi replied: "In this chaotic age, I await your answer."

Po Jun's pupils contracted violently.

He, had changed.

?? Recommend a book to your friend: "From the Hunting Dog, the Seventy-Two Transformations" by Chen Ku. He awakens as a hardworking herb gatherer in Sheyu Town—no identity, no household registration, no money, and in this chaotic age, no safety.

? Fortunately, he has the Transformation Diagram in his mind.

? Whatever harms me is Sha; slaying it yields Sha Qi, which transforms into the Seventy-Two Transformations.

? Inherit the target's bone structure, talent, and integrate it into the Diagram, augmenting myself.

? Hunting Dog Transformation: 【Search Forests and Mountains】, 【Swift as the Wind】, 【Heavenly Dog Devours the Moon】…

? Eagle Transformation: 【Eagle's Gaze Across the Sky】, 【Golden Hook Iron Claws】, 【Silver Wings Soar Heavenward】…

? Spirit Ape Transformation: Climb Mountains and Leap Rocks, Ape Arms Back Penetration, Absorb Qi Feed on Dew…

? …

? Years later, when he ascends to the pinnacle of immortal divinity.

? He counts all his transformations.

? Unbound by form—plants, wood, stone, beasts, inanimate objects, large or small, long or short—all can be transformed.

? Immortal Golden Transformation, Undying Divine Herb Transformation, Primordial True Dragon Transformation…

? Nine Heavens Immortal Divinity Transformation, Ancient Hall Transformation, Great Sun and Star Transformation, Void River Transformation…