Chapter 314: The Suffering of the Western Regions, the Wealth of the Western Regions, the Grand Ambition, the Compassionate Heart

In that instant, Li Guanyi felt the atmosphere freeze; the people around him, dressed in Western Regions attire, all placed their hands on the hilts of their waist knives, faces tense with suspicion, as Li Guanyi stared at the ancient artifact shattered into powder beneath his feet.

How much money would it take to compensate…

Li Guanyi looked at the swords in the hands of the Western Regions warriors, smiled, steadied his stance, one arm cradling Yao Guang, the other gripping the Tiger Roars to Heaven Battle Spear—a massive, exaggerated weapon that gleamed with cold light under the moonlight—and said:

"We are merchants from the Central Plains, caught in a tornado; when the desert storm ended, our goods were scattered, and we two were flung here."

This was the language of the Tuyuhun of the Western Regions; Li Guanyi's soul was strong, and he had been forcibly taught it.

The Western Regions tribes exchanged glances and spoke among themselves for a while, but Li Guanyi could barely understand; his forehead twitched—Jiangnan had countless dialects, yet Central Plains people could at least comprehend the official tongue.

Here in the Western Regions, even language was a problem.

Li Guanyi realized he had underestimated the complexity of the Western Regions.

Many great heroes of the Western Regions were sung of in ancient epics; for a long time, they had no writing or records. Three hundred years ago, the Tuyuhun unified the Western Regions, yet failed to leave behind the indelible mark of unity as the Central Plains had.

Neither writing nor language had been fully unified.

Li Guanyi felt his palm being patted; he looked down, and the silver-haired girl gently tapped his hand; Li Guanyi released his grip, and Yao Guang leapt lightly, landing steadily on the ground.

Then she moved behind Li Guanyi.

Standing on a large rock, rising on her toes, Bai Xi's cool, slender fingers pressed against both sides of Li Guanyi's temples; the girl murmured softly, and a refreshing sensation flowed through his third eye.

The previously chaotic murmur of Western Regions speech suddenly became clear.

Li Guanyi understood their words.

"What did this Central Plains man say?!"

"He seems to have said he's a god who fell from the sky?"

"Nonsense! Do Central Plains people now fly? Did he fly here from the Central Plains?!"

Li Guanyi said: "Gentlemen."

As he spoke, his voice, enhanced by a magical technique, made everyone understand his meaning; the tribe members were startled, their curved blades clashing in unison; facing their hostility, Li Guanyi swept the Tiger Roars to Heaven Battle Spear across the ground, carving a deep groove.

Then he pointed at the shattered ancestral artifact.

The young man stood tall and proud, speaking those two words with unwavering confidence despite having no justification.

"I'LL COMPENSATE!!!"

And the hostility dissolved.

…………

"Here, please drink…"

Slightly imperfect Tuyuhun official speech; Li Guanyi thanked her and accepted a rough clay vessel filled with goat and sheep milk; he took a sip—it was slightly salty; the girl before him was younger than Li Guanyi and Yao Guang.

Dressed in Western Regions attire, she wore a curved blade at her waist, her skin copper-toned, one side of her black hair tied with thin blue and red threads; she was one of the few in the tribe who could speak Tuyuhun official speech, and said: "You… from where?"

Li Guanyi answered: "The Central Plains. We are merchants."

"We merely encountered a storm."

The girl named Sa Atandi made an "oh" sound; her expression clearly showed she didn't believe him. Li Guanyi activated a flame using Mohist machinery to signal his location to the rest of the Tiance Prefecture.

When the Ancient Crimson Dragon cast people down, it used the winds to carry them.

It ensured they landed within a general range, but not precisely.

Yao Guang pulled out her small wooden cup from her pack, poured a bit of Western Regions goat milk to taste; a bearded man with two curved blades at his waist strode over, menacingly, and said: "You say you'll compensate—how?"

Sa Atandi tried to speak, but the man pressed his hand down on her shoulder.

The man's eyebrows shot up, and he shouted: "This is our ancestral artifact—the very thing our ancestors used as they walked this land. Even when the Tuyuhun were still Buddhist slaves, these objects were born from water and fire."

"To us, they hold great meaning and value."

"You shattered them—they are as important to us as our kin and ancestors…"

Li Guanyi thought for a moment, reached into his robe, and pulled out a small pouch.

The contents had been entrusted to him by the Young Lady of Changfeng Tower; he opened the pouch, revealing a handful of Jin Zhu, glowing golden under the moonlight.

Li Guanyi said: "Is this enough?"

The man's name was Batuer, meaning "hero" or "warrior."

Li Guanyi's action utterly overwhelmed him.

The bearded man with two curved blades hesitated for a long time, his rugged face turning red; then he gritted his teeth, reached into Li Guanyi's pouch, and fumbled inside.

He grabbed one-third of the Jin Zhu as Li Guanyi expected.

He counted them, then returned some, leaving only a few.

He muttered: "Enough. More than enough!"

Li Guanyi stared at the Jin Zhu, grimaced in pain—just arrived in the Western Regions, and he'd already suffered such loss; he tucked away the remaining Jin Zhu, and in return, earned the tribe's deep goodwill.

"Central Plains man, merchant, Jin Zhu!"

Batuer counted the Jin Zhu, called back the elders who had been left by the lake; he lowered his voice: "The Central Plains man who fell from the sky brought Jin Zhu—this is a blessing from the Heavenly Gods. He brought Jin Zhu; now you may walk this land a little longer."

"This gold can buy grain, goats, sheep, even blessed water from the gods—cure sickness, and you'll live."

Batuer's face remained stern as he ordered the elders to put on their clothes again, his expression hard as he told them to fetch food; only when everyone had returned did he clench the Jin Zhu in his hand, raise it, and turn away to wipe his eyes.

"Tian Tian Ge Er, the hero granted by the Heavenly Gods."

He recalled the legends of his childhood.

He remembered his grandfather, who once patted his head, walked to the Sacred Lake, and never returned; he gripped his curved blade, the metal clanging.

Soon, the rest of the Tiance Prefecture members returned, descending by their respective levels of martial skill; as for the Fire Qilin, it had already been lounging nearby, lapping up Li Guanyi's goat milk, smacking its lips and declaring the taste mediocre.

Then it gulped it down in large mouthfuls.

Though it was mediocre.

But the Noble Fire Qilin wastes no food!

When Shi Dalin and Changsun Wucho returned, the small tribe had prepared food for them—staples cooked in rough clay vessels: a coarse grain like wheat, mixed with goat and sheep milk, dried figs, dried grapes; Li Guanyi's group of Tiance Prefecture members also received roasted meat jerky.

Together, they were the best hospitality this small tribe could offer to the caravan that had descended from the sky.

Li Guanyi bit into a strip of dried meat and noticed that the Fire Qilin had somehow pulled out a small porcelain bottle, pouring out fine chili powder and five-spice powder before elegantly eating the roasted meat.

Li Guanyi's forehead twitched.

What had Zhao Laoqi taught him?

Batuer boiled tea with cow and sheep milk for them, but this milk tea was somewhat salty; those accustomed to Jiangnan tea found it hard to adjust. Farmer-philosopher Xu Tiange crunched loudly on the food, then ran over to converse with the others, asking about the grain seeds.

Mojia philosopher Pan Wanshou was deeply interested in the tribe's nomadic dwellings and the wooden structures native to this land, used for carrying goods and luggage, and went over to exchange ideas.

Fan Qing actively approached and spoke with the tribe's warriors wielding curved sabers.

Lei Laomeng stroked his chin, observing the tribe's horses and cattle.

For a moment, only Li Guanyi had nothing to do. He sighed, sipped the salty milk tea to calm himself. The sky over the Western Regions seemed especially vast and distant, the stars silent—until someone tugged at Li Guanyi's sleeve.

He turned his head and saw Nangong Wumeng, the last to return.

Li Guanyi handed her the tribe's food and said, "Why are you so late?"

"Your qinggong here should only be slightly worse than mine."

Nangong Wumeng rolled her eyes and muttered, "That Ancient Divine Dragon was utterly uncouth—I was thrown so far that I landed in a tributary of this lake, got burned by a rock, and my back is bruised."

"I was going to throw this thing away."

"But then, under the moonlight, I took one look—and brought it to you."

Li Guanyi laughed: "What do I need this rock for?"

The number-one beauty of the Jianghu tossed the rock at Li Guanyi; he caught it casually, froze slightly—the sensation in his palm felt utterly wrong. He looked closer: under the moonlight, it glowed golden.

Heavy, yet it was a naturally formed dog-head gold.

Nangong Wumeng grinned slyly: "What's wrong, Your Highness? Is this one little rock enough to make you so happy? Ahhh… you haven't changed a bit… ughhh!"

Li Guanyi lifted his head, grasped Nangong Wumeng's wrist: "Well done!"

"I knew bringing you was the right choice!"

Nangong Wumeng, who had just been smirking with sultry eyes, suddenly stammered: "Y-you, y-you you!"

Li Guanyi gave Nangong Wumeng all his own meat.

He rubbed the large lump of natural gold.

No wonder it's you!

Tiance Prefecture's Fire Qilin Army—foremost in fortune!

Nangong Wumeng retreated. Li Guanyi ate while observing the surroundings: the group was not small; the young and middle-aged men all carried curved sabers, and there were cattle, sheep. Li Guanyi thought for a moment, feigned going to fetch something, found the Miss Sa Atandi, and asked about the situation.

Sa Atandi, grateful to this Central Plains merchant for saving the elders from being abandoned by the lake to die, answered Li Guanyi's questions: "We followed the water here to buy grain in the nearby city, sell our furs and meat, and exchange them for salt and tea bricks."

"Without salt, we have no strength. Without tea, we…"

Sa Atandi paused, gestured with her fingers: "We get sick. Our blood turns bad."

Li Guanyi understood—it was because fresh vegetables were impossible to obtain here.

"What city do you go to?"

Sa Atandi replied: "Baluka City. There's a lake called the Great Clear Pool—long and narrow, its water black-blue, bitter and salty—but salt is cheap there, so we all go."

Li Guanyi fell into thought.

The land deed the Young Lady had prepared was right there—a vast stretch of land in a village. It sounded like a salt lake in the Western Regions. The Young Lady truly chose an excellent place.

He chatted with the girl. Sa Atandi seemed curious about the outside world, answering Li Guanyi's questions and asking him about it in return; Li Guanyi gave modest replies.

Li Guanyi understood the situation: this tribe numbered over a thousand, among the smallest in the Western Regions. They lacked the strength to claim even the tiniest oasis, refused to become servants under larger tribes, and so wandered endlessly.

The Western Regions had great rivers and great lakes.

In spring, snow and ice from northern mountains melted, swelled the rivers, created new oases, and drew animals chasing water. These small tribes, without fixed homes, chased these small animals.

They hunted them, gathered herbs from snowy and rugged places.

Then, following the water, they reached the territories of larger tribes, sold furs, calves, and herbs, and exchanged them for salt, tea bricks, and weapons to sustain their tribe—before continuing to chase the water away.

"We can't afford to live in a city-state."

Li Guanyi was startled: "Tuyuhun unified the Western Regions for three hundred years—didn't they build many cities?"

Sa Atandi frowned: "But those cities belong to the Tuyuhun people."

"Now they belong to the Tanguts, then to the Central Plains people."

"We've never been accepted."

"And ever since that great hero died over three hundred years ago, everything fell into chaos. Now there are many cities, each with its own kingdom."

The descendants of the Thirty-Six Tribes founded kingdoms. Though Tuyuhun had unified the Western Regions, it ultimately lacked vision and failed to achieve ideological unity—this was the classic pattern of rule by men and the Heroic Age.

The idea of unification was never etched into everyone's heart.

When a once-in-a-generation hero arose, he could unite these tribes and city-states into a glorious, magnificent realm—but when such a hero died, his realm crumbled apart.

Li Guanyi scanned the tribe and asked curiously: "I see you have so many cattle, sheep, and game—how much salt and iron could you get in the city-states?"

Sa Atandi fell silent, then counted on her fingers:

"Three sheep for one pot."

"One ox for one tea brick."

Li Guanyi froze, staring at the tribe's year-long accumulation of furs, dried meat, and herbs—only to exchange for a meager amount of tea bricks and salt. Even the oppression of the Central Plains dynasties paled in comparison.

Li Guanyi had nothing to say. Sa Atandi thought for a moment, placed a small dagger carved from a cow's horn into his hand: "This was my grandmother's gift to me. I'm giving it to you now."

"We were going to leave the elders here, leave them a little food, and go—because this year the tribe gained more children, and our harvest couldn't feed even one more person, so we had to leave the elders behind."

This was the control strategy of the Western Regions nobility.

Li Guanyi immediately understood. But Sa Atandi did not—she simply said: "Maybe we just aren't hardworking enough. We can't feed so many people. If you hadn't descended from the sky, they'd still be left here."

"I heard that near the Sacred Mountain there's sky burial—when people die, they're placed on the mountain for eagles to eat their organs, returning them to heaven and earth."

Li Guanyi held the finely carved horn and said, "Like this?"

Sa Atandi said, "There's no other way."

"In the Western Regions, they use gold coins, silver coins, small coins—only chieftains may enter the great cities, for they are warriors bearing blades; we, wandering tribes, are lower folk, our lives worth no more than a strand of grass rope."

Sa Atandi and Li Guanyi spoke of these things, then went to help the elders; Li Guanyi set down the pottery, and some here dared not speak to him, only clasped their hands and said, "Jin Zhu."

"Jin Zhu."

Li Guanyi smirked.

He was no Jin Zhu.

Besides, that one was called Jin Douzi.

The Tiance Prefecture contingent each investigated their own leads, returned to one place, and compared their gathered intelligence—all found it complex; though they had long known the Western Regions' condition was dire, they had never imagined it would be this bad.

Only Changsun Wuchou was accustomed to this place: "Because the Tuyuhun King was born a serf, yet overthrew those who once oppressed him; after becoming the hegemon who unified the Western Regions, his descendants oppressed nomads and serfs far more harshly than before."

"Perhaps they fear another Tuyuhun will arise?"

Fan Qing whispered, "I infiltrated the Sacred Lake and found many corpses; the bones bore gnaw marks. Those who remained here must have resorted to cannibalism before dying."

"The victors ate the others, then starved to death."

"And the wounded, bleeding out, were devoured by vultures."

"Beneath this lake, the bones are piled white."

Li Guanyi rubbed his brow, fell silent a moment, then said, "After us, we head first to the place we agreed upon, Wuchou."

Changsun Wuchou bowed and said, "My Lord."

Li Guanyi said:

"Tomorrow at dawn, you go find Er Lang and deliver my personal letter to him."

Changsun Wuchou's expression turned strange upon hearing Li Guanyi's address:

"Yes."

Li Guanyi said, "Nangong."

Nangong Wumeng was lost in thought; Li Guanyi called her several times before she jolted awake and said, "What?"

Li Guanyi said, "You have the best lightness skill and a divine weapon—go find Khan Qibili."

"Tell him where I am, and ask if he still remembers our agreement from that day."

Nangong Wumeng's expression turned solemn: "Yes."

"Nangong receives the order."

She hesitated, then asked, "And what of you, General?"

Li Guanyi looked at the tribe and replied, "Since I am a merchant from the Central Plains, I will stay with these people for now and learn the true state of the Western Regions. Such complexity cannot be understood without firsthand observation."

"Enough. Rest now."

All bowed and withdrew; Li Guanyi sat upon a rock, Yao Guang quietly reading beside him. Li Guanyi gazed at the sky, pondering—the Western Regions' condition was worse than he had anticipated.

Yu Langwang, the Regent Prince, had already swallowed lands in all directions; the Tangut Kingdom could not resist.

Yet the nobles of the Thirty-Six Tribes maintained only their own rule, exploiting common herders. Li Guanyi pressed his fingers to his brow, watching the quiet tribe under nightfall—sleeping head to head, curved blades clutched in arms, moonlight serene, yet he felt as if walking the edge of a cliff, as if death might come in the next instant.

This is the Age of Chaos. In the Central Plains, the people toiled like oxen and horses, yet still sold their sons and daughters; in the Western Regions, nomadic tribes wandered everywhere, yet abandoned their elders to preserve their own survival.

"A person's worth is a strand of grass rope."

"Ah… the Age of Chaos."

Li Guanyi gazed at the starry sky.

He suddenly understood why Khan Qibili, two years ago, had ridden a donkey alone across vast lands to reach Jiangzhou in the south, begging Chen Dingye for aid.

Why, after Li Guanyi promised land and protection, Khan Qibili had reacted with such overwhelming emotion.

A human life was worth no more than a strand of grass rope.

What desperation, what stubbornness, had driven Khan Qibili to journey alone to the Central Plains? And what resolve had his people held, to let a man already a modestly skilled cultivator leave—not to protect himself, but to save them?

To survive.

All for survival.

Li Guanyi drifted in thought.

A light touch came upon his shoulder; silver hair fell across him. The silver-haired girl rested her head against his shoulder. Li Guanyi froze slightly, sensing her steady, gentle breath—and murmured to himself, "After all, today has held too much."

"Yao Guang must be exhausted too…"

The silver-haired girl spoke calmly:

"I am awake."

Li Guanyi fell still.

Vast and desolate, the Western Regions under bright moonlight—the tribe, doomed perhaps at any moment, slept. Li Guanyi sat here; the silver-haired girl kept her eyes open, clear, rational, restrained, leaning against the young Lord's shoulder.

Then, with her right pinky, she gently hooked his sleeve.

Beneath the moonlight, their breaths mingled.

The silver-haired girl spoke calmly: "Whatever you wish to do, I am here."

"Whatever future you walk toward, I am here."

"The Nine-Colored Divine Deer does not believe you—I do."

Li Guanyi lowered his gaze and replied, "Alright…"

He looked at these Western people, drank alone from his milk wine, and gazed at the boundless sky—Western Regions…

Sa Atandi, sleeping, murmured softly:

"Tian Ge'er…"

"Jin Zhu."

Li Guanyi had made his decision.

Li Guanyi thought: "The village we're heading to is actually quite large, with water sources and oases around it. If Sa Atandi and the others don't mind, we might as well set up camp there."

"Pay them a fair price for their goods."

"If they're willing, have them spread the word that there's a man from the Central Plains, whom they call Jin Zhu, a man named Tian Tian Ge Er from the Central Plains, who is willing to gather these nomadic tribes scattered across the Western Regions."

"Willing to protect them."

Li Guanyi did not yet know that this promise, spoken only to Yao Guang, this decision born of quiet compassion, would shape what future lay ahead—he simply decided to act, for his past, his Mr., could not let him become like the warlords of this age.

To massacre towns, to build jingguan from skulls to proclaim his fame.

At that very moment, as Li Guanyi's thought settled, his body's Nine Provinces Cauldron gave a faint hum—

Li Guanyi blinked, drawing his soul inward to observe.

The Nine Provinces Cauldron roared violently!

The nine-colored divine aura obtained from within the nine-colored divine deer slowly spread out.

The aura, which had only awakened to one-ninth of its full power, now faintly began to shift!

?? Please vote for monthly tickets, everyone!

? Don't stay up with me—go to sleep early, sleep early.