Chapter 48: Phoenix Roam!

The Dharma Form embodies one’s essence, qi, spirit, and will, manifesting the interplay of yin and yang energies.

Changsun Wuchou bowed with a smile, but his fox Dharma Form drew near Li Guanyi, as if probing.

Perhaps it was some form of observational technique.

But as the fox approached the youth, the bronze tripod trembled; the dragon and tiger Dharma Forms lunged forward—the red dragon’s tail still rested on the bronze tripod, yet its diamond-patterned scales coiled around the fox’s neck, while the white tiger pounced in unison.

Though merely two immature Dharma Forms, they tore away large portions of the fox’s qi, causing the fox to recoil in fear.

For some reason, Changsun Wuchou suddenly felt a flicker of primal panic.

He had never felt such emotion while traveling alone in the Western Regions; the ancient text’s method of probing another’s qi had lost its effect—the result was only darkness. The youth in the ink-blue robe stood there, as still and dangerous as a mountain tiger. He bowed slightly and said, “I am Li Guanyi.”

“Greetings, Master Changsun.”

Changsun Wuchou studied the youth, frowned slightly, then suppressed his unease and nodded with a smile.

“Truly, a young hero.”

Li Guanyi watched Changsun Wuchou depart.

He turned and entered the Xue residence; the red dragon and white tiger carried back the torn fox qi, and the bronze tripod seemed to glow with flowing light—but this fox lacked the merit to enter the tripod; a spot on its rim flared briefly then dimmed, and the fox qi scattered completely.

Both the white tiger and red dragon Dharma Forms absorbed a portion.

Both glowed brighter, both slightly enlarged.

Meanwhile, Changsun Wuchou was led to the Listening Wind Pavilion, where Xue Daoyong personally received him. Changsun Wuchou hurried forward and bowed deeply, calling him “Uncle.” The white-haired Xue Daoyong rushed forward to support him, patted his shoulder, and scolded, “Nephew, what is this?”

“So formal?”

The two exchanged glances and smiled; words were unnecessary.

Changsun Wuchou rose smoothly; Xue Daoyong invited him inside to sit and drink tea. After several cups, Changsun Wuchou smiled and said, “You’ve received the letter your brother Xue sent you, yes? Today I’ve come regarding that matter.”

When the Po-Yun Zhen-Tian Bow first sang, Xue Daoyong had been reading that very letter. He chuckled, “Of course.”

Changsun Wuchou whispered, “The descendants of the Tanguts dwell in the Western Regions; now the Tuyuhun occupy their lands. You opened the path—we sold them salt, iron, and weapons. With arms in hand, their Left Prince happened to die suddenly.”

“They’ve already begun fighting the Tuyuhun.”

“It has stabilized our borders with both Ying and Chen.”

“Old Master, truly a masterful move.”

“You’ve earned tenfold profits and made the Tanguts shield Chen from the Tuyuhun.”

Xue Daoyong replied, “Though I am a merchant, when Marshal Yue departed and the border faced peril, I too must use my own means to hold it. Alas, I am but an old, feeble man—no longer able to ride and fight.”

Changsun Wuchou smiled in agreement.

Xue Daoyong asked, “What of the Tanguts?”

Changsun Wuchou said, “They have courage.”

Xue Daoyong sipped tea, flipping through trade records, and said calmly, “We can aid them a while longer—until they’re strong enough to balance the Tuyuhun.”

“Afterward, nephew, you must sell weapons and salt and iron to the Tuyuhun.”

Changsun Wuchou looked at the old man, knowing the bloodshed behind his words, and said, “Old Master profits, yet stabilizes the border—yet pity, the Tuyuhun and Tangut tribes of the Western Regions will forever fight among themselves.”

Xue Daoyong laughed, “Nephew serves the great clans of Longxi—isn’t this the best outcome?”

The two raised their cups and drank, the jade-like porcelain holding tea that tasted like the vast Western Regions sliding down their throats. Xue Daoyong said, “Barbarians treat sword and horse as plow and field; they often raid our borders. I’ve seen it.”

“Those not of our kind, their hearts are different.”

“For the Central Plains, a chaotic Western Regions is the only good Western Regions.”

Changsun Wuchou said nothing to this man who had lived through chaos and witnessed barbarian invasions—the lion of a broken age. He smiled and said, “Our trade matters are settled. Here is the latest map of the realm’s territories. May I discuss global trade with Uncle Xue?”

He unrolled a leather scroll. The old man chuckled, “Not yet.”

“Today, I’d like to boldly invite one more child to observe. Is that acceptable?”

Changsun Wuchou smiled, “It seems the Xue family has found its pillar.”

“If Old Master wishes it, I have no objection.”

He had traveled alone through the Western Regions, where the Tuyuhun now dominated—but the region was too vast; Tanguts, Tielei, and remnants still struggled to resist. Changsun Wuchou, though a merchant, was backed by the great clans of Longxi.

Together with Xue Laoyezi’s eldest son, they could sway the region’s fate.

He had seen many young heroes; his own great clan’s third son was exceptional.

The Xue family was merely merchants—he remained calm.

The door opened, and with it came a chilling aura of slaughter.

Changsun Wuchou’s eyes, usually half-lidded when he smiled, widened slightly. He saw the youth in blue robes: Li Guanyi wore a leather belt, a sword at his hip, held the Su-Ni Bow in one hand, and wore a blue headband embroidered with cranes and clouds to keep sweat from his eyes. His brows were calm, his gaze steady—he already carried the stillness of a warrior.

Changsun Wuchou sat upright.

It was him.

Xue Daoyong gestured for the youth to sit, pointing to him with pride: “Li Guanyi of Jiangzhou.”

“My son of the dragon!”

He pointed to Changsun Wuchou: “Son of the Right Brave Guard General of Ying. Now serves the Duke in the frontier. That family is vast—let Nephew Changsun introduce himself.”

Changsun Wuchou looked at Li Guanyi and bowed with clasped hands: “Heir of the Duke of Longxi, second son of the Li clan, of the Ji surname, under the Second Lord’s banner.”

“Son of the Right Brave Guard General of Ying.”

“Nephew of the Grand Master of Rites of Ying, legitimate son of the Changsun clan—greetings, Young Master.”

This was how aristocratic families exchanged introductions in this age.

One revealed one’s lineage: the Li clan, Ji surname, meant the ancestor was enfeoffed in Li territory and took Li as surname, but Ji was the imperial surname granted by the ancient Central Plains emperor.

Li Guanyi had no such pedigree; he merely clasped hands and bowed: “I’ve already met you, Master Changsun.”

“I am Li Guanyi.”

Changsun Wuchou smiled in acknowledgment.

He unrolled the map on the table: it showed not only Ying and Chen, but also the Tuyuhun lands of the West, the Northern Turks, the Khitans and Rouran of the northeast, the Wu Hou, great rivers and mountains, cities and villages—all detailed.

Xue Daoyong waved his hand; all windows of the Listening Wind Pavilion closed. Thirteen fist-sized luminous pearls illuminated the room. Changsun Wuchou outlined the realm’s current situation, pointing to the West: “The Western Regions are now in chaos. Through Old Master Xue’s methods, the Tanguts thirst for revenge. Your nation’s Marshal Yue was captured protecting the people; his army stands at the border facing the Tiger Savages. Ying’s Grand General marches north, confronting the Turks’ Iron Cavalry across the passes, lest those starving Turkic horsemen descend and invade the Central Plains.”

“The realm is largely at peace…”

Li Guanyi sat quietly, watching the two discuss the realm’s fate, studying the map, memorizing the route from Chen to Ying. Yet his gaze lingered on the map, and the teachings of the Divine General Xue echoed endlessly in his mind.

He could understand Changsun Wuchou and Xue Daoyong’s words.

Great merchants scheme for nations.

Old Master Xue used silver to stir chaos in the West and stabilize the border.

No wonder he had been so delighted when he spoke of “great merchants scheming for nations, for the realm, for eternal peace.”

He thought I was his confidant.

But where do I have such ambition?!

I am merely an impostor.

Li Guanyi’s mind wandered; Xue Shenjiang’s teachings surfaced, growing clearer. Changsun Wuchou, noticing the youth, smiled and pointed to the map: “Young Master, if the realm’s situation were to shift, how would you judge it?”

Li Guanyi looked at the realm, recalled Xue Shenjiang’s teachings, and instantly formed his judgment.

He automatically reached for the brush beside him.

Turned it around, tapped once on the table.

“Here.”

Changsun Wuchou and Xue Daoyong looked.

The Western Regions?

“The border is crumbling. Ying fights the Turks; the Tuyuhun, free from rear threats, will surely seize the chance to invade southward, claiming the fertile lands to compensate for their weakness. At that moment, if the Tanguts suddenly strike to sever their advance, the Tuyuhun will collapse.”

The youth sat still, his expression calm.

He was young; his eyes still held the ink-stained air of a scholar.

Yet in that moment, it seemed as if the greatest general of the age sat behind him—clad in black armor, sleeves hanging, fingers holding a go stone, gazing at the world.

When Li Guanyi raised his hand, it was as if the Divine General, across five centuries, placed his own finger upon the map.

“Let the Tanguts hold back, feign weakness; the Tuyuhun will seek to exploit the standoff between Ying and the Turks to invade south. If the Tanguts strike to cut them off, the Tuyuhun will be thrown into chaos.”

“Ying’s frontier clans will not miss this chance—they will surge forward.”

“At this moment, if a supreme general leads elite cavalry out from Chen’s border…”

“They can plunder Tuyuhun lands. Chen, the Tanguts, and Ying can together shatter this Western hegemon and divide its territory three ways.”

“…………”

Li Guanyi snapped back to reality—it was not the secret realm. He withdrew his hand, ashamed, and said:

“Merely paper strategy, empty talk. I apologize for the embarrassment.”

Thank heaven Xue Shenjiang was not here—his forehead might now bear several more zheng characters.

Xue Daoyong said, “...Such military strategy resembles the ancient texts left by our ancestor.”

Changsun Wuchou laughed heartily: “Ha! Young brother, you speak sense. For your age, it’s impressive.”

Changsun Wuchou and Xue Daoyong exchanged glances.

Both casually dismissed Li Guanyi’s idea as naive.

Yet each caught the flicker of astonishment in the other’s eyes.

That night, when Li Guanyi left the Xue residence, he returned to fetch his aunt and bring her back to the Xue home; Changsun Wuchou rested outside. Xue Daoyong stared at the map of the realm’s fate, silent for a long while, then said: “...Is he truly a divine general descended from heaven? His strategy is still crude, lacking detail—barely passable.”

“Yet it is boundless, like a deer’s hoofprint on a cliff.”

“He knows nothing of military fundamentals, yet possesses first-rate vision.”

“Who taught him? Did they skip the basics entirely and jump straight to grand strategy?”

The old man gazed at the secret letter on the table—the court’s order to confront Yue Qianfeng. He sighed: “Those who drop stones in the game become stones themselves. It cannot be avoided. Yue Qianfeng?”

The elder sighed: “I truly don’t want to fight against Marshal Yue’s generals.”

…………

Changsun Wuchou was writing a letter.

It was addressed to the second son of the Duke of Longxi.

He wrote of local customs and scenery, but finally paused his brush.

He wrote in the Xianbei script of the lands beyond the pass:

“...I was ordered here to negotiate with the Xue family regarding the Western Regions, hoping to halt the Tangut attacks and ally with Chen Guo to break Tuyuhun’s dominance. I met a young man whose judgment of the Western Regions and the situation matched yours exactly—and his age is the same as yours. His name... Jiangzhou, Li Guanyi.”

Though written for the second son, the letter itself said:

“Second Miss, you might find this interesting.”

The letter was tied to the eagle’s claw; the eagle spread its wings and flew off. After a day and night of swift flight, at the next sunrise, it reached the lands beyond the pass, where the Duke of Longxi, of the Li clan of the Ji surname, had guarded for generations. The eagle let out a long cry, and the letter drifted down.

As the great sun rose, a bird invisible to the naked eye caught the letter.

It flapped its wings, every feather glowing with firelight, as the magnificent phoenix descended, bathed in the sun’s radiance.

It landed on the shoulder of a thirteen-year-old girl.

The girl had phoenix-shaped eyes and a vertical red mark on her brow, bearing the bearing of dragon and phoenix, strikingly beautiful.

On her shoulder, her innate phoenix manifestation lay lazily.

She opened the letter.

She raised an eyebrow.

“...Same as my judgment?”

(End of Chapter)