Chapter 300: Jiangnan Unites, the Spearhead Rises Again, Debate the World!

The Fire Qilin Army, riding the tide of momentum, captured three cities in one swift sweep.

The common people took nothing; the great families either fled or surrendered.

A young lady from a prominent family concealed her face and returned to Jingcheng, relying on her family's lingering influence, she still married someone of equal status and became a Lady—yet she often wept, speaking of her fate, claiming she had been betrayed.

She said she had been harmed by someone she once saved.

Everyone pitied her; when asked about that day, the noble Lady, her eyes red from crying, replied: "It was my maid, whom I treated like a younger sister, who betrayed my family."

"I was still young then; my family had adopted sons whose land we leased. My father, seeing how poor they were, took them into our home—but that year, her father tried to steal back their land deeds."

"Saying he'd rather starve tilling the soil than remain a servant."

"In great families, that was a capital offense. Her father, her mother, and her brother were all beaten to death by my father under family law. Next, they were about to beat her—I saw she was only five years old, starving, and so adorable that I begged my father to give her to me as a birthday gift."

"For all these years, I treated this maid extremely well."

"But when the Fire Qilin Army came, she defected to them in the village, showed them the back alley leading to the city gate, led them in under cover of night, and claimed she was one of my servants…"

"I saved her life, yet she brought wolves into the house and destroyed my entire family."

"How could this not be the act of a vile, ungrateful beast?"

The noble Lady trembled as she wept.

Clearly, she was truly heartbroken, truly unable to comprehend it.

Such things happened in many places; Wen Lingjun's grasp of momentum was too subtle, and he himself came from a great family, so he knew how the great families would react—those commoners who depended on, or were forced to depend on, the great families were used by them to fill population gaps in different villages.

But were these people born willing to kneel and serve the great families like dogs?

As soon as the Fire Qilin Army arrived, they all defected.

Some even wished they could take swords and carve up these great families themselves.

Yet after capturing three cities in succession, the other dozen or so cities grew cautious, recalled all their troops, and relied on city walls and Mo Family mechanisms to hold their ground, refusing outright to open their gates for battle.

In this stalemate, Pang Shuiyun's disciples of the School of Vertical and Horizontal Alliances had already infiltrated the cities to persuade them; Pan Chonggui, as city governor, possessed some leadership ability, rallied the garrison troops, and deployed Yamen Runners onto the walls.

They barely held off the Fire Qilin Army's assault.

Or rather, the Fire Qilin Army had hardly launched any real attack—merely setting up camp outside the city walls had already created an unbearable pressure, leaving Pan Chonggui unable to sleep for days.

At this moment, Wen Lingjun said to Li Guanyi:

"Hold steady with the orthodox, strike victory with the unexpected. Lord, the moment has come."

He dispatched spies.

The School of Vertical and Horizontal Alliances disciple who had come to visit Pan Chonggui bowed, then sighed repeatedly. Pan Chonggui, already in low spirits, saw this disciple—who claimed he could lift the siege—look so gloomy, and his temper flared; he barely suppressed his irritation and said:

"Mr. says he has a way to lift the siege. Now that you've come, why not speak?"

"No need to put on such a show."

The disciple's name was Xiao Chengbo, a student of the School of Vertical and Horizontal Alliances, one of the thousand-plus scholars willing to join the Tiance Prefecture. He smiled and said: "I am merely worried for you, Governor, seeing the current situation."

"The Fire Qilin Army rides the tide of momentum. Governor, do you believe your few thousand defenders can defeat those tens of thousands of Fire Qilin Army's heavy-armored troops?"

"Moreover, the commoners in the villages outside the city have all joined the Fire Qilin Army."

"The Emperor's reprimand will arrive soon."

"You can't fight and win. Even if you somehow win by sheer sacrifice, what awaits you won't be reward, but punishment. Do you think you can do this?"

Pan Chonggui's face darkened; he drew his sword and nearly cut down the disciple.

But once the blade was raised, he couldn't bring himself to strike—he had been terrified of this very thing. The Fire Qilin Army's momentum was unstoppable; they were already widely regarded as a frontline combat force.

How could his garrison troops possibly stand against them?

And the Emperor of Chen would surely punish him severely.

He had thought long and hard these past days—and found no solution.

Xiao Chengbo smiled: "But I have a plan that can save you from peril and bring you great fortune. The Fire Qilin Army's Qin Wu Hou is at the height of his fame—Governor, why not simply surrender your seal and the entire city, as the first to do so?"

"Qin Wu Hou will surely treat you with special favor."

The Governor said: "But if the Great Chen later holds me accountable…"

Xiao Chengbo replied: "Now, in the villages, nine out of ten households are empty."

"If you don't surrender, will the Emperor of Chen not hold you accountable?"

Pan Chonggui nearly laughed.

When had "nine out of ten households empty" become a justification like this?

Yet now he thought about it—it was, in fact, precisely apt.

Purely factual.

Pan Chonggui clenched his teeth and said: "I am a minister of the Great Chen, blessed by its grace—how could I do such a thing? Moreover, moreover…"

Xiao Chengbo understood: "You want more money?"

Pan Chonggui felt deeply insulted; his body shook violently, his face flushed red, then purple, as if consumed by rage—finally, he glared at the envoy and said: "... Yes!"

Xiao Chengbo burst into laughter.

"A man of dignity and substance."

After returning, he reported the matter to Pang Shuiyun and Wen Lingjun. Both knew the moment had arrived; the next day, Governor Pan Chonggui surrendered the entire city to Qin Wu Hou, who received him with honor and bestowed upon him a jade pendant from the imperial bloodline of the Red Emperor of Zhongzhou.

It was an imperial relic!

Pan Chonggui was deeply moved and showed utmost reverence.

Yet the news spread across the realm that very day; Pang Shuiyun and the Changfeng Lady's networks had long prepared, spreading it widely. Emperor Ji Zichang read the report, especially the part about the 【jade pendant from the Red Emperor's bloodline】, and his expression grew strange and complex.

'You gave a dead man's burial artifact to a surrendering governor?'

'Clever.'

Emperor Ji Zichang sighed helplessly—he already knew where that jade pendant had come from.

Strange, indeed.

Before Pan Chonggui surrendered, all other cities fiercely defended themselves.

But it seemed Pan Chonggui's surrender had shattered the morale of the other cities from within—a crack opened by internal clan infighting and the overwhelming force of the Fire Qilin Army, followed soon after by Chen's demands for accountability.

Within half a month, the governors of these remaining cities surrendered one after another.

Some resolute governors and generals who vowed to resist the Fire Qilin Army were assassinated at night, their heads severed, placed in boxes, and delivered with solemn reverence by the clans' own descendants.

The Fire Qilin Army entered the cities, with Qin Wu Hou leading the way.

The great clans crawled forward on their knees; none dared raise their eyes before the advancing blades.

Thus, within half a month, the entire Jiangnan region was pacified; the Fire Qilin Army absorbed and reorganized the regional troops, disbanded them, and retrained them—Jiangnan's standing forces swelled to one hundred thousand, yet these soldiers were not integrated into the Fire Qilin Army but classified as reserve forces.

There was a certain disparity in treatment between the reserve forces and the Fire Qilin Army's core troops.

Yet they were never harshly punished.

They merely stoked the resentment and longing within these men's hearts.

The other prefectures and cities of Jiangnan were not occupied; instead, they were transformed into warfronts, forming Jiangnan's borderlands. The people resided in the core region of the Eighteen Prefectures of Jiangnan, and fearing Chen's military advance, each great clan willingly relocated to the Eighteen Prefectures of Jiangnan.

Under Wen He's manipulation, tensions and conflicts began to emerge between incoming clans and native clans.

The New Year of Tianqi Year Twelve passed amid this chaos; across the states, warfare was frequent, with massacres and skull towers common—yet only the Fire Qilin Army remained silent, riding the tide of momentum and achieving its strategic goals with barely any bloodshed.

The entire Jiangnan region, over two thousand li in circumference, was pacified.

Nearly a million households.

Each household ranged from fifteen people down to five.

The population numbered in the millions, with artisans especially numerous—drawing together vast numbers of Zhongzhou artisans; this proportion of artisans in Jiangnan, a region that had endured over a decade of stalemate and warfare, was simply inconceivable.

One hundred thousand armored soldiers.

From each city and clan, they seized enough grain to sustain the people for three years; yet they did not distribute it for relief. Instead, they re-examined the prisons, overturned wrongful convictions, and from the treasuries, granaries, and armories of the seventeen prefectural capitals, seized countless suits of armor, weapons, and arrows.

Wei Xuancheng and Wen He personally oversaw the inventory.

Somehow, they had managed to uncover an additional thirty percent.

All were seized under the Fire Qilin Army's control.

Thus, they held Jiangnan like a tiger crouching.

If before this, the Central Plains had been a battleground between Chen and Ying, and Jiangnan's Eighteenth Prefecture had merely been a single point standing there, now a full region had finally been torn free.

And immediately after unifying the entire region, they turned the former Chen cities into border outposts, extending their influence once more toward surrounding towns.

This was a slow, swallowing expansion.

News of these changes had spread everywhere.

"The Fire Qilin Army, majestic and terrifying, bears the aura of a royal host—wherever its blades point, the cities of Chen flee in terror."

The cart creaked forward as the snowstorm grew heavier; Shi Yisong, wrapped in thick cotton quilts, listened to passersby discussing the world's transformations. Their small caravan had returned from Zhongzhou, originally intending to go home for the New Year.

But the war delayed them.

They dared not linger longer; after confirming a safe route, they immediately set off for home. Shi Yisong wore the wooden sword at his waist, listening to storytellers recount tales.

"The Master Jiankuang raised one sword in tribute to the Jianghu, fulfilling eight hundred years of elegance."

"Young hero Qin Wu Hou led the Fire Qilin Army southward, conquering seventeen Chen prefectures, seizing cities and lands like rolling up a mat—yet not a single hair of the people was harmed; the populace embraced them…"

These stories stirred his blood; for some reason, Shi Yisong suddenly recalled the few men he had met on his journey to Zhongzhou—the old man in the blue robe and the young Daoist priest.

"I wonder if they've heard of the Master Jiankuang and Qin Wu Hou yet?"

"Probably not—there were too many people."

Shi Yisong sat in the cart; the wheels rolled over uneven ground, rising and falling, rising and falling, creaking—snow drifted down from the sky, and the boy clutching the wooden sword thought:

"After all, how could such grand, sweeping events possibly concern us?"

……………………

Eighteenth Prefecture of Jiangnan, prefectural capital.

When the Fire Qilin Army returned, spring was nearly here.

Master Yan Daiqing finally waited—longing, gritting his teeth—for Li Guanyi, Xiao Zhi, and Wen He to reunite; yet even these two dared not enter that gate.

The gentle gentleman's smile was too chilling.

The Lord Marshal was pinned by the shoulders and nearly dragged inside.

And yet, Qin Wu Hou—the man who, during last year's autumn hunt, had ridden his horse into the imperial palace and slain high-ranking royal clan members, known as the Grand Minister—dared not resist.

He didn't just dare not resist.

He had to carefully suppress his cultivation.

Afraid of shaking loose the Prefect's wrist.

Civil and military ministers, advisors, and generals waited outside, hearing the gentle, courteous Prefect's muffled, snarling laughter, then shouting: "Li! Guanyi!!!!"

"Don't run!"

"Eat my punch!!!"

Outside, the Fire Qilin, eating Jiangnan fruits, suddenly shivered—recalling certain memories it had tossed into the trash heap and never wished to remember again.

That old Qilin had no manners at all!

Those dozens of days were the longest hundred years of his six-hundred-year Qilin life.

Huh??

Wait—I'm not even five hundred years old yet?!

The young Qilin froze.

Then sighed: "Time flows like this, never pausing day or night."

The young Qilin's expression hardened; it raised a paw and slapped its own face, shaking off those words, then lowered its head and devoured the Jiangnan fruits in the basin.

I'm such a fool, truly.

A hundred years ago, I actually thought there were good fruits to be had in Zhongzhou!

How could this be!

The Fire Qilin took a big bite of the fruit.

Chew, chew, chew.

Gulps, swallowed.

Although the fruits hidden by that old Qilin in Zhongzhou were indeed delicious, truly excellent fruits, still, the fruits here in Jiangnan are better—if you ask why, then naturally—

The fruits gained without effort are the most delicious!

The Qilin muttered to itself with a resonant voice, then lay down comfortably, waiting for Li Guanyi and the others; soon, soldiers of the Qilin Army brought over another large bucket of fruits, and the Qilin swiftly returned to its original joyful life.

After about the time of one incense stick, the office of the Provincial Secretary opened.

The ministers and advisors went to look, and saw Qin Wu Hou grinning, his eye sockets blackened.

Everyone drew a sharp breath, all turning to look at Master Yan Daiqing.

Only Kou Yulie, the one with the highest Wu Gong, noticed that the lord's blackened eye sockets were caused by his own internal Qi; the Provincial Secretary's swollen wrist, however, was real—even if personally taught by the Wrathful Sword Immortal, a civil official remains a civil official.

Over a year's resentment and furious beatings lasted one incense stick.

Did not break through his defenses.

Instead, his wrist bones were shaken and injured.

He merely sat there, sulking.

Li Guanyi sighed and shook his head at Kou Yulie; there was nothing he could do—he truly owed Yan Daiqing too much. He had spent the journey luring people away: he left Jiangnan last summer and returned nearly this spring, and Jiangnan's eighteen provinces had already changed beyond recognition.

All things lay in ruin, the perfect time for heroes to rise.

But Li Guanyi seemed to have pushed Yan Daiqing too hard—Yan Daiqing's internal cultivation had slightly regressed. Li Guanyi changed into splendid robes, healed his own injuries, then gathered all the strategists and officials to discuss the next strategy.

Focused on livelihood, on rest and recuperation, on military affairs.

When all matters were settled, he summoned the core members of the Qilin Army to discuss future strategy, for Li Guanyi's forces had grown immense; more than half of the students who had originally come to Jiangnan to open private academies now came to serve him.

Thus, after securing all of Jiangnan, he immediately, according to civil administration needs and without regard to birth, promoted students to official posts handling basic governance; Yan Daiqing, who had struggled alone for so long, immediately felt the pressure ease.

Also responsible for civil affairs were Fang Shaoqiao, Du Ke, Wei Xuancheng, and Wen Lingjun.

Feng Xiao, Yuan Zhi, and Wen He were in charge of military affairs.

Pang Shuiyun handled intelligence and public opinion.

Kou Yulie, Generals Ling Pingyang, Fan Qing, and Elder Murong oversaw the army.

All answered directly to Li Guanyi; only then was Jiangnan's entire structure truly stabilized—with names, people, land, and officials managing every aspect of governance. As for students unwilling to enter civil service, Li Guanyi opened wide doors, supporting the establishment of private academies.

Motian Sect was rebuilt.

The Motian Sect Master was at least a Master-level cultivator, and the most skilled among Masters at teaching; many Motian Sect disciples came to join him, and new martial academies were established near the private academies across the region.

Civil and martial paths could be cultivated together, but those studying civil arts must also practice basic Wu Gong.

And those cultivating martial arts must understand writing and mathematics.

Numerous decrees were issued; now Li Guanyi's prestige was soaring, his name known throughout the land, and no one dared obstruct his orders—yet Yan Daiqing asked Li Guanyi where the money would come from.

Li Guanyi took out the gold, silver, and jewels given to him by Emperor Ji Zichang.

Yan Daiqing then said no more in opposition.

Yan Daiqing was furious.

Yan Daiqing was refreshed and invigorated!

Finally, this first Provincial Secretary of the Qilin Army, as refined as jade, ran his hand over a piece of gold, and the oppressive aura that had weighed him down slowly dissipated; his demeanor toward others became exceptionally kind.

Aunt Murong Qiushui had originally believed Elder Murong Longtu was dead; even after learning he still lived, she remained anxious—until finally, Li Guanyi brought the old man back to the Murong household, and Murong Qiushui met Elder Murong Longtu.

Murong Qiushui was playing the qin beneath the snow when she heard Li Guanyi's laugh:

"Auntie, look—who's back?"

Murong Qiushui's qin melody faltered; her hand pressed on the strings, slowly lifting her head, seeing the old man behind Li Guanyi, her body trembling.

The aunt who had always been so strong and carefree since Li Guanyi's childhood became, in that instant, a child again, flinging herself into the old man's arms and weeping uncontrollably, while the sword madman who had roamed the world unchallenged sighed deeply.

He reached out, stroked Murong Qiushui's hair, and said: "I won't leave anymore."

"I won't leave anymore."

"From now on, Grandpa will stay right here, with you—will that be alright?"

Murong Qiushui only wept.

Li Guanyi waited quietly beside them; the wind of Jiangnan remained the same, the world changed, storms rose and surged, each side following its own strategy—Chen State and Ying State sank into war after war, while Jiangnan developed in peace.

Soon it was the third month of spring, and the common people had begun spring plowing.

The aristocratic families realized their opponent was no longer the cautious yet insufficiently ruthless Pang Shuiyun, no longer the famed but overly rigid Yuan Zhi, nor the one who had previously managed all Qilin Army civil affairs—Yan Daiqing.

Their opponent was merely a humble, unremarkable young student, smiling cheerfully, unassuming, named Wen He.

Looked easy to bully.

Had Li Guanyi finally decided to compromise with the aristocratic families?

Many aristocratic families gradually relaxed, especially many young lords, who went drinking, fishing, and listening to music in teahouses with Wen He, as if already becoming close brothers.

The aristocratic families gradually let down their guard.

Everything was progressing steadily.

Li Guanyi was fishing with his great-grandfather, Elder Murong Longtu; spring had warmed, flowers bloomed, and the old man no longer needed to carry his sword and roam the world. Li Guanyi, now seventeen, wore simple clothes, his hair bound with a jade hairpin, a wooden sword hanging at his waist as he fished.

At a table behind, Yao Guang sat quietly reading a scroll; on the table lay a plate of pastries and a plate of fruit. The silver-haired girl, expressionless, reached out, took a pastry, and nibbled slowly.

Far away, a silver-haired man was grinding his teeth, his eyes red.

Especially when Li Guanyi caught a fish, the silver-haired girl would personally remove it and place it in the bucket, then praise him in a cool tone; the silver-haired man's senses were strong—he heard clearly—and grew even more enraged.

Mine!

This should have been my due!

Master Siming used this silver-haired man's emotions as a side dish, drinking heartily.

Murong Qiushui personally cooked porridge and meals; Yao Guang read a book; the Fire Qilin ate fruit; Elder Murong asked Li Guanyi about his plans afterward; spring water flowed, and in the distance, the people could be seen gradually regaining vitality—the spring wind had once again greened the southern bank of the river; all was peaceful.

It was different from previous experiences.

Jiangnan seemed to have broken free from this chaotic age.

The wars outside seemed unable to reach here; the people's faces now carried smiles—not because they had immediately gained something wonderful, but because they saw the possibility of a good life, saw opportunities for the future.

If one works hard, life will slowly improve.

The future is possible.

Li Guanyi watched these people for a long time, then withdrew his gaze and said, "After this, there may still be things that need doing."

He had already laid out strategies with Po Jun, Wen Lingjun, and others.

He would not stay here long.

He had not yet spoken when the sound of hooves arrived; the hooves splashed stones, which fell into the water, creating ripple after ripple on the surface; the ripples spread, and the fish were startled and fled.

A horse galloped swiftly toward them; its rider dismounted—none other than Sun Wuchou, formerly a subordinate of Li Li Zhaowen, who had followed Li Guanyi since beyond Zhenbei Pass; now, this commander of the Fire Qilin's scouts wore an anxious expression.

He dismounted, bowed deeply, and said, "My Lord, news!"

"It concerns the Western Regions!"

Li Guanyi set down his fishing rod, reached out, and took the letter; he unrolled it and saw it was from Li Li Zhaowen: "The Regent is about to completely annihilate the Tangut Kingdom; with the Tangut Kingdom's fall, the Western Regions will fall entirely into the Regent's hands, beyond recovery."

"Will you come?!"

Li Guanyi lowered his eyes to gaze at those four characters.

Thus, the swirling winds and roiling clouds of the world shattered the fleeting illusion of peace in Jiangnan; once more, war and bloodshed dominated the land. Li Guanyi rose, apologized to Elder Murong, set down his fishing rod, and softly said:

"Wuchou."

"Your servant is here."

"Summon the generals and strategists."

"Come to me for council."

Sun Wuchou asked, "May I ask, My Lord, what matter shall we discuss?"

Li Guanyi reached out and grasped the sword beside him; the silver-haired girl blinked, rose silently, and stood beside him. Li Guanyi's voice was calm and steady:

"To discuss the world!"

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