Chapter 229: Marquis Qin Wu, Li Guanyi

The most secluded place in Changfeng Tower held every major and minor family of Jiangnan; such a gathering ought to have been held in the villa of some prominent clan, but if anyone leaked word of it, whoever hosted it would suffer great misfortune.

So it was held here, in Changfeng Tower.

All the families were furious and resentful: throughout history, mighty heroes rose by first winning over the great clans; countless rugged heroes owed their rise to the full support of these powerful lineages, and Li Guanyi should have been no different.

But his actions over this period had filled every great family with simmering rage.

Now all were furious, cursing:

"Li Guanyi, you've gone too far!"

"Such a brat, how arrogant—he's unfit to rule the realm!"

"Who could forget that the Holy Son of Heaven once allied with our clans to forge this vast empire? This child, still smelling of milk, dares to fraternize with those mud-stained peasants!"

An old man with white hair sighed: "He degrades himself."

"Truly pitiful."

He genuinely believed Li Guanyi's actions were 【self-degradation】 and 【pitiful】; after much discussion, the great families concluded: "Li Guanyi's deeds are perverse and contrary to the Dao—if he seizes control of Jiangnan, will we clans sink to the level of common peasants?"

"Why not hire an assassin? When he ventures out alone, unarmed and without an army, kill him—then even if he possesses the valor of a past overlord on the battlefield, he'll be helpless."

"He must die here."

"Once the forces of Chen and Ying leave this land, we clans will seize it."

"With our prestige, we can grant key positions to their generals, marry our clan daughters to them, and thus control them, while bolstering the Fire Qilin Army…"

"Each great surname's ancestors were men of great talent, with fine sons—brave and cunning—who can fill every official post in these cities and lead the Fire Qilin Army. Think of it: the Fire Qilin Army's might—even these mud-stained peasants and bandits—can rival the heroes of the realm."

"Your ancestors all once won glorious military exploits across the land."

"You inherit their bloodline—you will surely fare better than these rugged outlaws."

"Then we shall incite Chen and Ying to war among themselves, while we dominate Jiangnan and overlook the realm—our clan's power shall endure."

They truly believed this: in their minds, they bore the blood of ministerial and marquis families, inherently superior to common folk who tilled the soil; buying off military officers and dividing them was a perfectly normal strategy.

Assassinating that heroic young general who had conquered Jiangnan.

Only the great clans could do such a thing.

Even if he was the famed general who, young in years, had already stirred the entire realm.

Before our great clans, he may be slain.

Outside the door, Nangong Wumeng lowered her eyes slightly, her pale, slender hand resting on her waist; the divine weapon Yin-Yang Turning Ruler glowed with a faint shimmer, yet she bit her lip and released her grip, only a stifled anger lingering in her heart.

She comforted herself: thank goodness it's this girl in this position.

These families have no idea of Li Guanyi's prestige within the Fire Qilin Army.

If Fan Qing had come, he would have drawn his blade and charged straight in, chopping them all into minced meat; if the Seven Old Ghosts had come, these fools would find death itself impossible—Nangong Wumeng used the secret method of Yin-Yang Turning Ruler Sect to record these voices.

Among the clans, the old man asked doubtfully:

"It's strange—why hasn't the Murong clan come?"

Li Guanyi has not yet publicly revealed his origins; the Murong clan has also actively distanced itself—so in everyone's eyes, Li Guanyi remains merely a nephew of the Xue clan, a runaway. None of the clan youths know, yet one said:

"The Murong clan is powerful, but only because of the Sword Madman."

"Just a wandering rogue—utterly worthless."

"If we kill Li Guanyi, all will be well; if we fail, we'll withhold all taxes, refuse to obey his rule over cities and merchant guilds, and ignore his appointments—his edicts above, our laws below."

"How many self-proclaimed heroes have we seen? We have countless ways to make him wish for death."

"And if even that fails, then summon Chen and Ying."

"We shall pretend obedience to Li Guanyi's orders, wait until he lets his guard down, kill the Fire Qilin soldiers guarding the city, then surrender the city to Chen and Ying—shatter Li Guanyi's position."

"Even if Jiangnan descends into chaos, our noble, hereditary clans will remain secure."

The great clans have always loved doing such things.

Even the past overlord and the Red Emperor had the aid of clans when they rose.

The families discussed many more ideas, settled on three strategies—high, medium, and low—wrote binding oaths, formed a clan alliance, and departed. Only then did news arrive: some of their people outside had been intercepted by the Fire Qilin Army and now rushed back in panic and terror.

Returning home, they learned everyone had gathered at Changfeng Tower—and turned ashen-faced.

They sprinted here, and the venerable old man with a kind face asked, puzzled:

"Huh? Why the haste?"

"Zi Li?"

The middle-aged man named Zi Li seized the old man's arm, trembling violently, and said:

"What… what are you all discussing here?!"

A youth nearby laughed: "Of course—the mud-stained general, Li Guanyi."

Zi Li's face turned frantic; he swung his hand hard and slapped the youth across the face, the blow so forceful the boy's skin flinched, silencing him—then he turned to the assembled clans and spoke slowly, each word deliberate:

"Li Guanyi has been personally appointed as Hou Jue by the Emperor of Zhongzhou!"

"A Meritorious Marquis!"

"A rank even your ancestors could not reach! Your forebears here would kneel before him! He holds the right to command troops and govern all of Jiangnan!"

The faces of the great families changed.

The middle-aged man added:

"Chen and Ying have both sent tribute!"

"He has already assembled his troops and is nearly here!"

Only now did the old man, whose kind eyes had seen much, show a faint shift in expression: "... General Li's arrival in Jiangnan's capital is no great matter—we've discussed nothing."

"Besides, this news has only just arrived, so…"

His tone remained calm, as if he could still hold his composure.

The man interrupted: "It was announced long ago—I was suppressed by the Fire Qilin Army!"

The old man finally changed color: "What!?"

"Destroy it immediately—"

"Old bastard, destroy what?!"

The windows around them burst open; armored warriors stood outside Changfeng Tower's private booth, each holding crossbows, their barrels densely aimed at these men. Nangong Wumeng tossed something into the air—it slammed hard against the old man's face.

The old man had clearly never suffered much.

The blow swelled his face, knocking his teeth flying from his mouth.

Nangong Wumeng picked up the contract and said: "Ladies and gentlemen—"

Her brows lifted; her face wore a mask, but when she smiled, only her eyes showed—beautiful, yet brimming with martial vigor: "Under the command of the Great Commander of the Fire Qilin Army, Captain of the Reconnaissance Unit, Nangong Wumeng."

"Pleasure to meet you."

As the great clans' faces turned pale, each grabbed their weapons, preparing to force their way out.

Several clan masters with formidable Wu Gong smashed through the walls and leapt into the air—suddenly, several screams rang out, then those two clan masters were flung back, crashing to the ground, arms bent at unnatural angles.

Footsteps grew still.

Around them, the sound of surging water rose; blue light coalesced into the form of a dragon spirit, slowly circling and encasing the entire Changfeng Tower. The old man looked outside and saw hundreds of elite soldiers on the ground, crossbows leveled at this very spot.

A tall, weathered man in a long robe stood with his hands behind his back, white sideburns faintly stirring.

The aura of a Master-level Wu Gong practitioner was overwhelming—fierce, yet calm.

The old water pirate burst into laughter:

"Commander of the Water Army, Fire Qilin Army—Kou Yulie."

"Next time you come down, it won't be just a broken leg."

The old man on the upper floor turned deathly pale, then let out a bitter laugh and cried to those around him: "All of you—we've been tricked by that Qin Wu Hou! He means to wipe us all out at once! But these acts are ours alone—unrelated to my family!"

The old man bowed deeply to the ground and shouted:

"It was I who bore ill will toward the Marquis!"

"Qin Wu Hou's Wu Gong is peerless, his merits outstanding!"

"My entire Zhou clan reveres him—we would gladly spill our blood and brains for him, with no second thoughts—except for me, who refused to obey the Marquis!"

"That is why I gathered these men to rebel."

"Now that this has come to light, I have no face to show Qin Wu Hou, no face to show my family!"

"I can only die to atone!"

He suddenly drew a dagger from his sleeve and stabbed it straight into his throat.

But at that moment, a humming sound rang out.

A volley of arrows shot forth—but the arrows were razor-thin, like a swarm of cowhairs, piercing only the skin, yet instantly draining all strength from the body; they collapsed sideways, yet remained fully conscious. A man in his forties stepped in and said:

"Damn sneaky bastards."

"Only because Mr. Yuan Zhi said so—otherwise, this old bastard would've turned the tables, taking all the blame on himself, willing to die for his clan even from a high position, not even blinking. These clans are monsters—I'm scared just watching them."

"No wonder the Boss and Mr. Yuan are so wary."

Nangong Wumeng leapt forward through the gaps between fallen men and said:

"Shi Lao, what level of Ma Fei San did you use?"

The man grinned proudly: "Tested it on Yuwen Hua and Fan Qing—two brats: one a fierce fourth-tier clan general, the other a ruthless outlaw who dared kill officials. Both couldn't move after taking it."

"This old fool's internal energy is weaker than Yuwen Hua's, his grit weaker than Fan Qing's."

"I boosted the concentration of Ma Fei San to enough to knock out five giant bears from Lei Laomeng's stable—or an elephant. Even full True Qi won't resist it!"

"In our unit, it's codenamed 'Mun Dao Fo.' This year we tested thirty-seven variants of Ma Fei San—this one ranks sixth. Built on the formula used on Fan Qing and the other, we added a secret herb from the Yin-Yang Wheel Sect—slightly toxic."

"Side effect: severs yin and yang."

"You mean number one?"

"Number one was discovered while helping the Fire Qilin digest and sleep—we added a pinch to boiled pig's trotters. The Fire Qilin slept so well, I didn't dare use it on this old man, afraid he'd sleep forever."

The old man roared in fury, struggling—but felt his internal energy slowly numb and stagnate.

He was stunned and enraged—such poison didn't exist among them. Such targeted toxins could only be developed after testing on thousands, even tens of thousands of Qi-bearing cultivators, with abundant herbs.

These commoners—non-clan, non-noble—how could they possibly possess such talent…

Yet he saw the clan scions on the other side had already been captured.

That day, the great clans remained silent. News of Qin Wu Hou spread across Jiangnan; all clans fell mute, and, with their secrets in hand, they stayed subdued for the time being. The common folk, upon hearing it, rejoiced wildly.

Thus, popular support surged.

Only then did the Fire Qilin Army enter the capital cities of Jiangnan's eighteen prefectures.

The great clans burned with rage and fear—this was the first madman in centuries to draw a blade against them.

They broke their usual pattern: unlike every previous upheaval, they did not bet on the winning side, nor did they welcome the Fire Qilin Army into the prefectural capitals. They intended to show their stance—to make Li Guanyi know that even if you're famed across the land, without clan support, entering here means only an empty, cold city.

Then, they would force the Fire Qilin Army and Li Guanyi to come here themselves and beg for forgiveness.

The great clans remained arrogant, still believing: no clans, no world.

That day, every great clan except the Chen family stayed home, calm and composed, sitting in their courtyards, playing chess, convinced all things lay under their control—yet they heard no noise from outside, so they sent a household servant to investigate.

The servant returned faster than he left, face ashen, as if he'd seen a pack of tigers, crying: "Master, Master—it's wrong! Something's terribly wrong!"

The refined scholar said calmly: "What's wrong?"

"What's making all that noise?"

The servant tried to explain, but for some reason, he couldn't describe what he'd seen—not even respecting hierarchy—he grabbed the refined scholar by the arm: "You—you must go see for yourself!"

The refined scholar was dragged outside; his face slowly drained of color. He saw the common folk—once numb, cunning, like two-legged sheep—now their eyes gleamed, lining both sides of the road. Men carried children on their shoulders; women smiled.

The buildings on both sides were packed with people.

That day, the Fire Qilin Army entered the city.

The great clans remained largely unmoved.

The common people surged forward, greeting them fifteen li outside the city with baskets of food and jars of wine.

When the Fire Qilin Army entered the city, its formation was solemn and orderly—every soldier clad in armor, bearing weapons, moving with the discipline of a military array, not even glancing aside as they passed through the crowd. Yet when the refined scholar saw the commanding general, he suddenly grew dazed.

Crimson banners rolled across the heavens; on both sides of the blue-brick buildings and along the streets, the people thronged.

A young general, clad in ink-black armor and a battle cloak, rode forward on the Fire Qilin.

His face bore a dark-golden mask!

Memories revived like a sudden awakening—memories from over a decade ago, when a similar army had appeared here. Then, the scholar had seen that young general lift his gaze, and in the midst of the Fire Qilin Army, there appeared disciples of the Murong Clan, all clad in battle robes, wielding long-handled double-edged swords.

At this point, everything became clear.

The refined scholar's mind went blank; his teeth clenched, his palms tightened, his voice trembled: "... The Murong Clan, Li— the Fire Qilin wasn't won by luck... he, his father, is Li Wanli, Li Wanli's son...!"

"The Murong Clan never revealed this, waiting for us to stand against him?"

"He's digging a pit for us to jump into—cruel, cruel indeed!"

"What a ruthless and sinister man!"

"Qin Wu Hou, the foremost family of the Jiangnan region, the Fire Qilin Army."

"He's going to strike at us?!"

He staggered back half a step, suddenly realizing that the young general, so widely seen as fiery and sincere, was in fact cunning, hateful—deliberately intercepting intelligence and concealing the Murong Clan's true strength, forcing numerous clans into conflict with him.

And now, at this moment, he had thrown everything onto the table at once.

If Li Guanyi had been Qin Wu Hou, Li Wanli's son, and the Murong Clan's power base from the start, the clans, given their nature and experience, would never have openly broken with Li Guanyi—all conflict would have remained at the level of superficial compliance and covert resistance. But Li Guanyi and Yuan Zhi's choices dragged the conflict straight onto the table.

And then crushed it outright.

A tributary of the Dajiang flowed through the Jiangzhou city.

The entourage of the marquis, Pang Shuiyun, and Master Yan Daiqing waited here. They saw the people flocking, saw the crimson banners slowly unfurling beneath the blue sky, like a dream—the young general walking ahead. As he passed, someone suddenly shouted:

"Release!"

Laughter rose from the crowd, and people on both sides flung up bouquets of flowers.

Petals rained down from the pavilions; the young general, riding the Fire Qilin, reached out, his temple hairs fluttering slightly, then scattered the petals in his hand. The petals fell into the river, rippling the water.

In his daze, Pang Shuiyun could not tell whether this scene was now or a memory—the Tai Ping Gong who had come to Jiangnan to seek a bride.

It seemed past and present had fused in this moment.

The clans fell silent; the people flocked.

Carried by the imperial edict from Zhongzhou and the congratulations of the states of Chen and Yan.

The Fire Qilin Army took control of the Jiangzhou city.

This should have been an extremely difficult step.

Yet it met no resistance.

The Annals, Volume One:

【His Majesty】 became a Jin Yu Guard at fourteen; at fifteen, he rescued Duke Yue from within ten thousand troops—Jiangnan's Fire Qilin, unmatched in Huai Zuo, holding the terrain of Jiangnan with its mountains and rivers, and punishing rebellious clans, winning the people's favor.

He was enfeoffed as Qin Hou at sixteen; the world stared in awe, none could match him.

……………………

Li Guanyi paid no mind to the affairs of Qin Wu Hou; the tedious rituals and formalities were handled by Pang Shuiyun. Li Guanyi left Yuan Zhi there to brief the old man, while he slipped away before Pang Lao could discover how much he'd already stirred up.

After reuniting with Master Yan Daiqing and feasting together, it was natural to keep him on.

Then, dumping all civil affairs, Li Guanyi finally had some peace—though contrary to his expectations, Pang Shuiyun did not rage at his sweeping actions; instead, he sighed gently and sincerely said:

"Your actions benefit the people greatly, but they must proceed step by step."

"If progress is too swift, the world cannot keep up—it will recoil."

Li Guanyi listened earnestly and humbly.

But soon, the clans he had seized upon began their covert schemes. Fortunately, the old veteran Pang Shuiyun had returned, and for a time, the clans' plots failed—but they still disgusted Li Guanyi to the core.

Yet he knew he could not truly draw the Tiger Roar Halberd and pierce them with seventeen or eighteen holes. Yet while discussing with Yuan Zhi, he suddenly recalled something and asked offhandedly: "... Yuan Zhi, you mentioned that Wen He—is he from a clan?"

Yuan Zhi, mid-handover with Master Yan Daiqing, answered instinctively: "Technically, yes—but he's merely a humble scholar. Though his ancestors were literary luminaries of the Chi Di era, he is a distant descendant, long fallen from grace."

"When young, he was captured by western warlords and had to fabricate ties as the grandson of a border general to raise the ransom needed to return. But being from a distinguished lineage, he understands these clans' ways well."

Li Guanyi pondered, pinching a chess piece, and asked: "You say he's ruthless—if I told him to eliminate these clans here, could he accomplish it smoothly?"

"???!"

Yuan Zhi was startled, but after hesitation, replied:

"Wen He is calm, plans before acting, and possesses adaptability."

"Given the arrogance of Jiangnan's clans, your leverage, and Wen He's talent, he can make all the clans turn on each other—until they bleed and break—while you and he remain untouched. It may violate Heaven's harmony, but it won't harm your reputation."

"Moreover, he will feel pleased to be entrusted with this duty."

Li Guanyi smiled: "Good. Only a villain can subdue a villain. On this matter, neither you nor I can match Wen He. He's a true talent—I want to see if these clan foxes can outwit Wen He, the so-called 'Master of Poisonous Schemes' from the Imperial Academy."

"After I leave, military affairs go to Yuan Zhi; civil affairs to Daiqing; all other matters to Pang Lao. Zhongzhou has summoned me to join the Son of Heaven's tour—it's time to leave Jiangnan and go to the Imperial Academy."

"Handle the clans according to our earlier plan. When I go to the Academy to fetch Wen He—ahem, I mean, invite him—Yuan Zhi, you won't have to deal with these clan schemers anymore."

"Daiqing, should I reduce your duties?"

Master Yan Daiqing glanced at the pile of paperwork, his brow twitching.

Yet he answered instinctively, haughtily: "No need!"

He regretted it instantly—but too late. Li Guanyi praised: "Just as I expected of you!"

The young Qin Wu Hou shed his responsibilities—no longer needing to receive Zhongzhou envoys or manage troublesome civil affairs—and felt greatly relieved. Yet before departing for the martial world, a Changfeng Lady emissary arrived and said: "Lord, you have a letter."

"From Jiangzhou City."

The Changfeng Lady emissary handed Li Guanyi a box. The youth opened it—and froze. Inside were countless letters, spanning from summer to late autumn, from the first crimson leaf to snow-covered winter, crossing years and ten thousand li of territory.

One after another, they were stacked together.

All of them came from Xue Shuangtao.