Chapter 297

Li Guanyi's voice fell.

Inside the thousands of Fire Qilin heavy cavalry, all rose in unison: left hands lifted to cover their armored faces, right hands withdrawn from their waist swords, uniformly grasping long spears, raising them—suddenly, a chilling aura erupted.

Before the eyes of the common folk, Li Guanyi reached out himself, seized the battle halberd, and slashed it forward with force; behind him, flames surged and coalesced into a ferocious tiger, its head raised as it roared.

The entire Mo Family mechanical ship was crushed downward, airwaves surging outward in violent rolls; Li Guanyi's halberd strike cleaved through every barrier ahead, and the Jianghe's current split apart.

Yan Baotai roared in fury: "Li Guanyi, are you declaring war on Great Ying?!"

Li Guanyi stepped upon the water waves, striding forward with the halberd, sleeves flaring; he gripped it with both hands and brought it down in a savage slash. Yan Baotai raised his iron-spiked wolf-tooth club to meet it—after only a few clashes, his club was split clean in two by Li Guanyi's blow.

Yan Baotai's internal Qi could not block it—he was kicked over and flung sprawling before the pass. With the atmosphere now at this pitch, the pass commander immediately rallied troops; thousands of soldiers charged toward Li Guanyi.

Generals Ling Pingyang led the Fire Qilin heavy cavalry into battle, clashing fiercely.

Yan Baotai spat blood heavily, sneering coldly: "You, Li Guanyi—you're but a lone army, leading a mob, trying to cut through Great Ying, even attempting to drag our subjects away with you."

"These people—even if they die under Great Ying's rule—shall not go to your lands to till soil and pay taxes for you."

"Do you have the guts to kill me?!"

Li Guanyi gripped the halberd, then released it.

"In chaotic times, warlords contend."

"But you are not worthy to threaten me."

Yan Baotai's expression shifted slightly.

Li Guanyi raised his halberd and brought it down—Yan Baotai's head was severed clean. Li Guanyi seized the head and hurled it toward the pass. The Fire Qilin soared, opened its mouth, and unleashed a torrent of flame that shattered the pass in an instant.

Generals Ling Pingyang moved to slaughter the remaining defenders.

But Li Guanyi raised his hand, halting Generals Ling Pingyang. The Fire Qilin cavalry, though mid-charge, stopped instantly—yet their chilling aura surged even fiercer.

Li Guanyi looked at the terrified commanders and soldiers of Cangxi City, then flipped his hand, driving the Howling Heaven Halberd into the ground. The weapon trembled, roaring like a tiger, forcing the crowd to recoil. Before five thousand troops, Li Guanyi said:

"I killed this man because he blocked me. I made a pact with Jiang Wanxiang—we agreed not to interfere with each other. You have no reason to fight us to the death. You may all withdraw."

"Our conflict will be settled on the battlefield one day—but not now."

"You may blame me entirely for Yan Baotai's death."

"I will write a letter in my own hand. Deliver it to Jiang Wanxiang."

"I, Li Guanyi, take full responsibility for this killing. You need not fight this traitorous general to the death, nor fear punishment afterward."

The people of Cangxi City trembled and brought forth brush, ink, paper, and inkstone.

The boy picked up the brush, intending to dip it in ink—but paused, then dipped it directly into the dead general's blood, writing the letter with blood as ink. Beside him, the Howling Heaven Halberd, for some reason, roared louder and wilder.

The soldiers and civilians of Cangxi City paled: they saw the boy standing amid the battlefield, writing with blood as ink, majestic as a divine figure.

Wen Lingjun closed his eyes.

What a mighty sovereign.

He bears the bearing of the Red Emperor, the boldness of a warlord.

Fang Ziqiao and Du Ke exchanged glances, their expressions complex. If before they had come only because of Wang Tong's request, now, for the first time, true loyalty stirred within them. The Fire Qilin army passed through Cangxi City once more.

The Cangxi City defenders dared not resist; they bowed and saw them off, chanting his title: Heavenly Strategy Supreme General.

Li Guanyi's Fire Qilin army wasted no time, pressing swiftly toward the Eighteen States of Jiangnan. Along the way, they encountered countless conflicts, yet also gathered refugees—though not as densely packed as in Zhongzhou, Great Ying's territory was vast, its population immense.

Struggles among Great Ying's civil and military officials were fierce; every powerful clan and noble house was gathering the people.

These people, though normally groveling, upon hearing rumors, some were willing to try escaping such a life—servants' sons would always be servants; maids' daughters would always remain maids.

Their own lives were already sealed.

But they could not bear the thought of their children still kneeling to bow and serve tea and water to others.

Most parents, for their children's sake, refused to let them endure the same suffering.

They had endured their own lives—fine. But their children must not suffer likewise.

Along this journey, the Fire Qilin army gathered many refugees.

By early September, the Fire Qilin had assembled one hundred thousand refugees; as they marched onward, towns and cities across Great Ying trembled.

At the end of September, the weather had turned cool; the Fire Qilin had prepared cloth in advance to give the people thicker garments. When they reached the city of Fuliang, its governor waited outside to greet them.

For Li Guanyi's group, they could not let them pass, yet could not stop them either—if they refused, would they really fight Li Guanyi's Fire Qilin army outside the walls?

But if they let them pass, the Fire Qilin's prestige would soar—and if they carried off more refugees, Jiang Wanxiang would hold them accountable. Governor Shao Junlie gritted his teeth: "Li Guanyi—we cannot fight him."

"That is the Heavenly Strategy Supreme General."

"A born killer. He's barely a teenager—yet at the autumn hunt, he rode down men, dared lead five hundred heavy cavalry into the imperial palace and draw blades against the nobles."

"His fearsome reputation is already known far and wide."

"Besides, Li Guanyi himself is immensely skilled. On the Divine General List, though he commands only a thousand men, they are the most devastating heavy cavalry—our garrison here is merely an internal waterway checkpoint. How could we possibly stand against such monsters?"

"But if we let them pass…"

Shao Junlie's face darkened.

As the Breaker said, Great Ying's internal problems run deep—but because Emperor Chen Wu's aura is vast and he leads Great Ying in constant territorial expansion, civil and military officials all see greater gains, so the issues are suppressed.

Yet these many benefits barely touch the common people.

Great Ying appears splendid on the surface, but beneath, problems pile layer upon layer: civil-military tensions are held down by Chen Wu and Jiang Su; the people's grievances are buried by the civil-military elite and noble clans.

In the past, there was no choice—only bow one's head, endure silently like an ox in the fields.

But Li Guanyi's relentless advance has grown his fame and prestige—offering those who once bowed their heads, who lived as beasts of burden, a second path. How could they possibly suppress them now?

Shao Junlie paced back and forth, saying:

"Letting them pass is impossible. Stopping them is impossible. What should we do?"

His strategist thought a moment, then replied: "I heard the Sword Madman Elder Murong has left the martial world, vanished without a trace—his last battle shattered his internal energy. Li Guanyi may be strong, but he is still only one man. Let us set a trap to lure him in."

"Then host him with a grand banquet. When he arrives, ambush him with elite troops."

"Midway through the feast, smash the cup as the signal—and seize him!"

Shao Junlie said:

"You mean emulating the banquet of the Red Emperor and the Overlord eight hundred years ago?"

The advisor answered confidently: "Li Guanyi has taken that Chi Xiao Sword."

"But he may not escape this situation as the Red Emperor did."

Shao Junlie said: "With Li Guanyi's Wu Gong, can we capture him? Even if we do, he still has a thousand heavy cavalry under him." The advisor, named Liang Yunxiu, came from a prominent family; upon hearing this, he replied:

"Among all famed generals, if they are not Cultivation Masters, they are merely flesh and blood. I have a connection—I know a supremely renowned Cultivation Master who is willing to act for me once. An eighth-layer cultivator taking down Li Guanyi is no problem."

"Besides, a thousand heavy cavalry excel in open-field combat. We're not fools like Yan Baotai, locking the gates and waiting for reinforcements—these thousand cavalry won't break through this city."

Shao Junlie still hesitated.

Liang Yunxiu urged: "If we let Li Guanyi go today, can we control the city's civilians? Can we stop the people in surrounding towns and villages from flocking to him?"

"When Your Majesty sends officials to inspect the population, and the numbers don't match, won't we be stripped of our offices, reduced to commoners, and possibly charged with dereliction of duty—ruining our reputations and dragging our families down?"

"One path leads to failure, but only one man dies, and the family can still support his wife and children. The other path drags the whole family down. Is there even a choice?"

They were local officials—they understood better.

When Li Guanyi's group arrived, the local populace had already begun to stir.

Especially those landless households—someone had spread tales of the Fire Qilin Army, and soon enough, the people learned of the Fire Qilin Army's treatment, and each one wanted to leave.

How had these spies done it?

Shao Junlie recalled.

They said the Fire Qilin Army fed its soldiers, gave them land, opened private schools for commoners' children to teach them reading, writing, and martial arts—and they even told the families of the city's garrison soldiers these things.

These spies had simply retold the Fire Qilin Army's deeds.

When the garrison soldiers returned to the city and ate dinner with their parents, their parents would say: "Son, the Fire Qilin Army seems to give land."

Some garrison soldiers had already begun requesting discharge.

Thinking of this, a fire burned in Shao Junlie's heart.

Jiang Wanxiang's policies were already modest, yet even so, Shao Junlie felt the people of the Eighteen Southern Provinces were treated better. But sitting in his position, he could only curse bitterly: "Damn it, cunning bastards!"

"What despicable villains."

"They lure these people with petty favors."

"Li Guanyi and those mud-stained peasants—Li Guanyi himself is Tai Ping Gong's son, he could have been one of us, a noble family—and yet he sides with these mud-stained peasants, and these commoners."

"We nobles feed them, clothe them, protect their land, and exempt them from corvée labor—they ought to work for us, not us for them. Without us, how could they survive?"

"Without us, they couldn't even pay their taxes."

"And every festival, we give them meat to eat; when they reach eighty, they need not work; every New Year, they drink wine and eat meat."

"Isn't that benevolence?"

"Yet they want to abandon us, to claim their own land—ridiculous, absurd."

"Now, intercepting him carries risk; letting him pass means Your Majesty will punish us for the missing population—it's a grave crime, unless…" Liang Yunxiu hesitated, then said: "Unless we mobilize the great families of the city—and your own family."

"Bring out all those not registered in the civil rolls but under noble control."

"Then fill the state's lost population numbers by registering them officially."

"Then perhaps Qin Wu Hou may pass unharmed, and Your Majesty will not punish us."

Shao Junlie's face darkened; he declared: "You want us nobles to do this?"

"It's impossible!"

The noble clans, relying on the court's 【Recommendation System】, monopolized official posts, seized vast lands, and gained privileges of tax exemption and corvée exemption—and used these seized lands and privileges to absorb massive extra populations.

These people were not recorded in the imperial registers; they were directly controlled by the noble clans.

This was the nobles' foundation, their core strength.

These people owed no corvée to the court, yet obeyed the nobles' orders, even to the point of killing without guilt.

This was the basis of the nobles' power and status!

It could never be shaken.

After this comparison, Shao Junlie immediately agreed to Liang Yunxiu's plan. When Li Guanyi's group approached, he led men out early, bowed respectfully, and invited them to a banquet.

He also provided abundant grain and goods, opened markets, and permitted the Fire Qilin Army to purchase supplies. Wen Lingjun and the others exchanged glances, pulled Li Guanyi aside, and whispered: "Lord, be careful."

"I fear this banquet holds no good."

Wen He narrowed his eyes. He had originally intended to step back—but turned to see the surging crowd, their momentum now gathered, and he had never imagined so many would come.

The tide of the world surges endlessly, but only the heroic can ride it—and dare to guide it.

Wen He fell silent, then said: "I'll accompany the Lord."

Feng Xiao spat out his wine in a violent cough:

"Huh?"

"What?!"

"Eh? You're going? Are you joking?!"

The advisors stared at Wen He as if he were a ghost.

Wen He smiled:

"With me there, there's no problem."

Wen Lingjun hesitated, then said: "You're not planning to run, are you?"

Wen He: "…………"

For some reason, he noticed Wen Lingjun seemed oddly eager—his hand had already settled on the rope beside him, as if ready to repay the debt from the day Wen He had knocked him out and tied him up.

Wen He fell silent.

This strategist, the foremost in self-preservation, seemed unable to maintain his composure—his smile finally carried a trace of mockery:

"If I wanted to run, would you even notice?"

The others thought it over, then nodded slightly, acknowledging Wen He's words.

That's true.

Li Guanyi instructed Wen Lingjun and the others to make purchases, while he rose to attend the banquet. Wen He wished to accompany him, but Li Guanyi stopped him, saying: "This may turn into a fierce battle. Stay here and wait."

"Oh?"

Mr. Wen He lifted his gaze slightly, watching Qin Wu Hou turn away, followed by a short figure in a hooded cloak—a stargazer. His thoughts paused; his gaze shifted to see the elderly man in blue robes casually picking up a green bamboo stalk as well.

Murong Longtu intended to go along, but Li Guanyi extended his hand to halt the elder.

Li Guanyi knew his great-grandfather had only the power of one sword left. If he didn't act, he might live about three more years; but if he wielded it recklessly, his lifespan would dwindle—and Li Guanyi could never permit that.

Murong Longtu looked at Li Guanyi and said gently: "I'll just go with you to take a look."

Li Guanyi said: "Great-grandfather, you've already accompanied me."

He reached out and patted the wooden sword at his waist.

"This journey—this is my story."

"Great-grandfather, you've already stepped into the Jianghu. Just sit here quietly and watch my story unfold."

As Li Guanyi turned to leave, a silver-haired girl nodded to Murong Longtu, then turned and walked behind Li Guanyi. After two steps, she found her feet hovering in midair.

The silver-haired girl looked up at Li Guanyi. He reached out, grabbed her collar, and lifted her up. His eyebrows rose as he intensified his tone: "It's dangerous."

The silver-haired girl glared at him, her voice calm: "It's not the first time."

They locked eyes.

Li Guanyi fell silent, then sighed helplessly: "Fine."

"You're right."

He set Yao Guang down. She reached out to smooth her robes, then followed Li Guanyi to the banquet in quiet silence. Murong Longtu watched Li Guanyi's back—his own sword rested at Li Guanyi's waist, giving him a sense of unreality.

His sword still roamed the Jianghu, but he himself was gone.

Truly marvelous.

Let us drink a great cup.

"Now that you've stepped into the Jianghu, don't try to manage everything."

"This boy Li Guanyi has faced plenty on his journey from Zhongzhou to here," came Master Siming's voice. The Grand Master of Yin-Yang sat beside Murong Longtu and handed him a cup of wine: "Drink."

Murong Longtu took the wine. Master Siming grinned and said: "Don't worry—the girl's with him. Li Guanyi's fine." He glanced at the silver-haired stargazer, sighing slightly. He had once joked with Yao Guang about Xue Shuangtao's existence.

At the time, the girl's gaze had been calm, undisturbed.

Master Siming swirled his wine flask, and for the first time, he felt utterly confused. He sighed:

"Young lovers' affairs are beyond our understanding. But with this Shanhe in chaos, they're not the kind to indulge in romance—I've no idea what to do. Your great-grandson is planning to marry before the world is settled."

"You old rascal, you won't see his children."

Master Siming teased.

Murong Longtu smiled calmly: "It doesn't matter."

"It's already too much."

Li Guanyi and Yao Guang attended the banquet, just as in the matter of Beicheng.

When the banquet began, Shao Junlie arranged music and dance.

Axe-wielding assassins had been hidden behind the screen, and he kept urging wine, waiting for the right moment to smash his cup as the signal. But just as he raised his cup, he saw Li Guanyi drinking, his gaze calm and steady.

The wooden sword at Li Guanyi's waist floated into the air.

Shao Junlie froze.

For some reason, his soul could not control his body—he felt certain that if he smashed the cup, his head would fly off first. After long stiffness, he slowly drank the wine, bowing with utmost respect:

"Is this wooden sword… the one spoken of in the Jianghu? The peerless sword of the Sword God, Elder Murong Longtu, from eight hundred years past?"

Li Guanyi did not answer, but said: "Your three hundred axe-wielders behind the screen, the Captain, and the city's Garrison General—why not bring them all out? Save us the trouble…"

He drank, tossed the cup aside, gripped the sword in his right hand, extended his left, and his sleeve swept down to shield the girl behind him. A whisper reached his ear—Yao Guang's telepathic message. His gaze swept calmly over the hidden ambush points and said softly:

"I am immune to all poisons."

"Also, Master of Motian Sect, it has been long since our parting at the Gongsun family."

Shao Junlie's face darkened abruptly.

A bitter laugh echoed suddenly. From behind the screen emerged an elderly warrior with white hair—the former Master of Motian Sect, who had vanished after the Gongsun affair, only to reappear in Ying State, revered by the noble clans.

He bowed deeply: "Greetings, Qin Wu Hou."

"Your grace remains as formidable as ever since our parting."

Li Guanyi looked at this once-mighty martial hero—now once bold, then broken, now worn-down—and said: "Master, you've grown old and weary."

The Master of Motian Sect let out a hollow laugh. His Jianghu fate had left Motian Sect shattered, his path lost. Now, facing the once-hunted Fire Qilin of this chaotic age, his rage was gone, his heart calm. He sighed:

"Had I known I was confronting you, my Lord, I would never have come."

Li Guanyi said: "If you have nowhere to go, come with me back to Jiangnan. If you wish, reopen Motian Sect there—teach the people some martial arts."

The Master of Motian Sect froze, glancing instinctively toward the nobles.

Shao Junlie was a powerful noble clan; he had received many favors. Now that he was entangled, he could not escape.

Li Guanyi held his teacup and said calmly:

"Lord Mayor, this elder is an old friend of mine. Today, I'm taking him with me."

Shao Junlie's face darkened, yet he forced a thin smile:

"If the Lord wishes it, it is our honor."

Li Guanyi's group gathered the displaced, purchased supplies, and departed. Shao Junlie could not stop them—he could only watch helplessly as Li Guanyi and his party left. In the Qilin Army, the Wrathful Dragon King Kou Yuelie, who had met the former guest of the Hunting Qilin Gathering, now joined Li Guanyi's ranks, and he sighed deeply, drinking for a long while without speaking.

Since the Master of Motian Sect had once founded such a large sect, opening martial schools across the entire northern region of Chen State, he naturally possessed skill in teaching. He began, from nothing, instructing the children of these common folk in cultivation.

Autumn faded, and the weather turned bitterly cold.

In the eleventh year of Tianqi, Li Guanyi led these commoners who chose to follow him across Zhongzhou and Ying State; many blocked their path, some cut down, others driven back, and after one season, they finally reached their destination.

Heroes across the land fought each other, blood flowing like rivers.

But Li Guanyi merely led the commoners forward, never abandoning them; the people had seen the young man wielding his battle halberd to kill, and had also seen him attend a banquet with a young girl, and without realizing it, the people's hearts turned to him.

Now, anyone who slipped in as a spy would be easily discovered and beaten nearly to death.

Amid the chaos of the land, the early claims that Li Guanyi was merely seeking fame were shattered by every trial of this long journey; now, when the world spoke of Qin Wu Hou, even the great clans had to say: a hero of the age.

In the hearts of the commoners, his prestige stood equal to that of the rulers of two states.

Their procession marched vast and grand, until they reached the frontier, where ahead lay the Jiangnan region.

Winter had arrived.

Li Guanyi's forces led over one hundred and twenty thousand households.

Farmers, artisans, scholars, craftsmen, merchants—all were present.

It was as if an entire city had been emptied.

Yan Daiqing finally realized how many people must reach the Eighteen States of Jiangnan; under the immense logistical pressure, the sound of fists striking walls echoed again from the State Secretary's office.

These past few days, Xiao Zhi had always stepped in with his left foot first.

Just before Li Guanyi and his group reached Jiangnan, at Ying State's final checkpoint—the very place they had circled for so long—

a general had already waited there.

He was handsome, with an air of distinction, holding two iron clubs, clad in Jin Jia armor; he was none other than Xue Dao Yong's eldest daughter's husband, the renowned general of Ying State, Qin Wu.

Now, leading a thousand cavalry, he let out a loud laugh:

"Qin Wu Hou, I have been waiting for you, by Your Majesty's command!"