Chapter 490: Three Great Matters Under Heaven

Li Guanyi and Elder Murong Longtu both realized something in that instant of silence.

The veins at Qin Wang's temples were twitching.

He raised a hand to cover his forehead and let out a long sigh: "Senior Taigu Taigu Chilong, wasn't he always proud and arrogant, looking down on ordinary people, disdaining schemes and tricks, believing only that strength could solve everything?"

"Why is he playing such petty tricks too?"

Sword Mad Elder Murong Longtu laughed and said: "Regardless, everything is already done, and it counts as a good thing. Guanyi, just wait here for a moment."

"Great-grandfather will be back soon."

Li Guanyi saw Elder Murong Longtu grip the wooden sword Longtu and stride out with composure.

A moment later, the sound of sword-chimes and the dragon's roar of the Taigu Taigu Chilong rose across the wilderness outside Xiyicheng; seen from afar, sword-qi cascaded like a waterfall, answering the stars above, sweeping back and forth, while the Taigu Taigu Chilong's roar was wild and unrestrained, thoroughly exhilarating.

"Hahahaha, deception?"

"When did I ever deceive you? Weren't there over fifty thousand men? It's just that they weren't Tie Futu."

"First I let you cultivate the Life-Continuing Gu, and then I let Li Xiao lure out the Great Tian Kehan's reinforcements—is there any choice more interesting than this?"

"If I had struck back then, I'd only have fought the Great Tian Kehan's three thousand Tie Futu; that would barely count as stretching my limbs. With that little force, Li Xiao could have slipped out on his own—what would that have meant!?"

"No fun, no fun at all!"

"Better now."

"Hahahaha, first fight the great army, then fight you!"

"This is the wisdom of I, the foremost auspicious omen of all ages! Hahahaha!"

Sword Mad gave a cold laugh and said: "Guanyi, wait."

"Do you want dragon scales?"

"Great-grandfather will knock off two more scales for you!"

"Taigu Chilong, hold!"

Sword-qi surged like a flood; the Taigu Taigu Chilong laughed out loud, wild and thoroughly exhilarating, and fought Sword Mad Elder Murong Longtu with abandon. The sword-styles surged, overbearing, no longer bound by the previous situation, sweeping freely.

The Wu Gu lineage, the Life-Continuing Gu.

It truly had miraculous effect.

In only the time spent at Xiyicheng, Sword Mad Elder Murong Longtu successfully crossed past that day from three years ago—during the period when Sword Mad should have undergone sword dissolution—and fought the Taigu Taigu Chilong, the foremost auspicious omen of all ages, deep into the Western Regions for eight hundred li.

The battle turned heaven and earth; the sounds of sword-qi and dragon-roar shook a thousand li on every side.

All the common people saw it in the heavens.

The Grand Historian 【Zhao】 recorded: In the fifteenth year of Tianqi, the second year of Qin Wang, outside Anxi city, dragons fought in the wild, their blood black and yellow.

Li Guanyi did not know exactly how useful this Life-Continuing Gu divine art of the Wu Gu lineage was for a martial legend, but seeing the old man still able to wield his sword so freely and exhilaratingly put his heart greatly at ease.

Li Li Zhaowen stood beside him, smiling, and said: "Guanyi, you really do have deep feelings for Old Man Sword Mad."

Li Guanyi nodded and said: "Mm."

"Although the time I've spent with Great-grandfather hasn't been long, he's supported me all the way. The bond between family shouldn't be measured by length of time alone."

Li Li Zhaowen raised an eyebrow and gave an "Oh."

Then said: "When shall my third brother Li Yuanchang be taken away and sent to Master Yan Daiqing in the Western Regions?"

Li Guanyi said: "Send him along while you're at it. However, after this affair, I'm afraid we won't be able to keep it completely hidden from Jiang Wanxiang."

Li Li Zhaowen twirled a chess piece between his fingers, tapping it idly against the table, and said: "That Emperor Ying, Your Majesty? A strategic shift of this scale probably can't escape his eyes either. But the most helpless thing under heaven is the aging of years."

"The Great Emperor of Ying already has the will but not the strength."

"Still, what you and I have done this time is bound to shake the whole world."

Li Li Zhaowen smiled slightly: "This matter is enough to break the balance, enough to turn the situation of the world. I just don't know how the annals of later generations will record this event, or how they will record the two of us."

"A thousand years from now, there will still be people reading these words, imagining what you and I went through."

"If you think about it that way, even if one day we grow old, it doesn't matter. In the annals, heroes are forever in their prime; you and I will also be forever young, forever as we are now—isn't that good too?"

Li Guanyi looked at the map of the realm, his eyes lowering slightly.

"The world?"

The world had been stable for a year, and now faintly another shift was brewing.

Only this time, Qin Wang was no longer a fallen leaf tossed about by the storm of chaotic times.

He had become the very source of the storm that swept across the world.

While resting and regrouping at Xiyicheng, forming merchant caravans for the Western Regions, and transporting large quantities of Tie Futu armor to the lands south of the river, the Great Tian Kehan finally broke out of the encirclement with his men and returned to his royal tent.

He also saw the complete military report.

The Seventh Prince, Ashina.

At the most critical moment, not only did he fail to send troops, he even dispatched cavalry to block the other Khans' reinforcements at key points, and clashes broke out. The Seventh Prince Ashina personally charged the formation and killed several generals.

Though he couldn't be mentioned in the same breath as the top commanders of the age,

he was still a first-rate fierce general.

This meant the encirclement the Turkic Great Tian Kehan had anticipated not only failed to form, it led to an overall strategic retreat. Yet the Great Tian Kehan, holding the battle report, still couldn't believe it, muttering: "Ashina, Ashina…"

"It was you who did such a thing."

That softest of sons, his Ashina, had done the most rebellious and unfilial thing of all—he still remembered that the child's mother was a daughter of a Central Plains noble house, from an era when the clashes between the grasslands and the Central Plains weren't so fierce.

He had taken the woman as his wife, and after the child was born, the king of the grasslands looked at that fair-skinned boy and saw the unwillingness in Ashina's eyes.

Thirty years ago, the Great Tian Kehan, drunk on wine, had once said to Mu Zhahe,

"This child is too soft, just like his mother."

"He doesn't look like a hero of our grasslands at all."

Ashina, his little Ashina, hated his own father, but even the hatred of his mother's death from illness couldn't make him draw a blade; he only stared at his father with red eyes, like a little girl.

A useless child, indeed.

But the Tian Kehan had never imagined that at this moment, the boy who had never dared to draw his blade against him would deliver the deadliest strike of all—at the critical juncture, against the tide of fate.

The blood of the Central Plains people either endures in silence, or endures no longer.

There seems to be no middle ground.

This rebellion of the Seven Kings.

Not only caused the encirclement to fail, but also led to Mu Zhahe's death, and ultimately cost him three thousand Tie Futu, plus over five thousand other troops, with countless wounded.

The loss of these troops, for the vast grasslands, was still bearable.

But the death of the Seventh Divine General, Mu Zhahe, caused the Tian Kehan such heart-wrenching pain that he would wake gasping in the night, his chest aching.

Like having an arm severed.

In his youth, before he had achieved anything, he bore the title of Wang Zu—but only the title; he owned only a dozen cattle and sheep. The world was in chaos, unstable; bandits roamed everywhere across the grasslands.

Back then, the Great Tian Kehan's Wu Gong was weak; he was beaten, barely escaped with his life, and even his few horses and cattle were stolen.

It was Mu Zhahe who took his bow, gave him a warhorse, and the two of them chased bandits across the grasslands in the rain, hunting for three days and three nights—not only reclaiming their own livestock, but also plundering the bandits' goods.

"Look, as true men, as long as there's a path beneath our feet and a blade in our hands, the whole world is our pasture—what is there to mourn that would make a man shed tears?"

Young Mu Zhahe slapped the Tian Kehan on the shoulder and laughed:

"Your body is weak—I'll protect you."

"From today on, we are brothers."

The Tian Kehan returned to his tent, thinking of his youth, clutching the shepherd's flute he had carried since boyhood, his heart stabbing with pain—losing one Tie Futu pained him more than losing ten valiant men.

If he could bring Mu Zhahe back to life, he would trade thirty thousand Tie Futu for him—but the dead cannot be revived. The man who had stood beside him since youth, who had always supported him in every matter, had truly died on the battlefield.

When the battle formation was cracked by the impact of the Ancient Crimson Dragon.

Pierced through the forehead by a single strike from an old swordmaster with white hair, nailed to the ground—this great general of the Nine Heavens Sect, a battle-hardened veteran, was killed by an old swordsman using underworld methods.

Could the swordmasters of the Central Plains' Jianghu really have grown this powerful?

Were the legends of Wu Dao truly this formidable?

He suddenly thought of Jiang Su.

The man called the Divine General of the past three hundred years—this man was still alive.

The Tian Kehan fell silent for a long while, staring at his three severed fingers—the fingers of his right hand, which would reduce his combat strength when wielding weapons.

But for a man of his level, wielding a weapon with his left hand could still unleash tremendous power.

Whether he could continue fighting depended on the choice of his heart.

Undeniably, when facing the Ancient Crimson Dragon, the Master Jiankuang, Qin Wang, and the encircling army, the Tian Kehan—without elite troops at hand—felt death drawing near; the fear nearly drove him to flee.

The Tian Kehan gripped the shepherd's flute in his hand, placed it upon the table.

Then slowly clenched his fist; his aura, after violent fluctuations, settled once more.

The Tian Kehan's will hardened again. He looked at his severed fingers and smiled with indifference: "Fine Wu Gong, fine tactics—this time, I've taken a mighty fall, Mu Zhahe."

"I have only this little life left. Rather than accept defeat, live a few more years, and die of withered blood and qi in this golden tent, I'd rather make one final, desperate gamble."

"After all, when I die, the grasslands will shatter."

"If I fight the Central Plains with all my strength and die here, it's no different from dying and letting the grasslands shatter afterward."

The Tian Kehan's face turned grim: "After I die, what do I care for the grasslands?"

"It can't get any worse."

"Mu Zhahe, you were right—as long as we hold a blade and carry heaven and earth in our hearts, the whole world is our pasture. I won't give up—even if I must fight to the death, I'll simply meet you again below."

Outside the Tian Kehan's tent, the other Khans and generals bowed their heads, faces tense and panicked—the Tian Kehan's brother, the greatest archer on the entire grasslands, was dead.

The rebellion of the Seven Kings had left even the Tian Kehan severely wounded.

Before this, the states of Ying and Chen had both suffered blows, large or small; Qin Wang had only just risen, lacking deep roots and sufficient strength, while the Turks, lingering on the fringes of the Central Plains war, had preserved most of their power.

This situation was ideal for the grasslands.

As long as the Central Plains stirred, they could march south and trample the land.

But Qin Wang had come.

Just as Qin Wang had gone to Jiangnan, the Western Regions, and the Southwest.

A single sword had torn apart this advantage.

One single move had inflicted massive losses upon the Turkic grasslands. Now, these Khans feared the Great Tian Kehan might blame them, lost in anxious speculation—when footsteps sounded, the tent flap was thrown open, and the Tian Kehan walked out again.

"Muster the troops."

The Tian Kehan said calmly: "Go see my good son first."

"My Ashina—how dare he betray us now?"

"Has his foolish bloodline clouded his mind?"

"His father—I am still alive!"

………………

After a fierce, satisfying battle, the Ancient Crimson Dragon and the Master Jiankuang Elder Murong departed calmly. Li Guanyi's troops turned toward the Western Regions; a vanguard of elite soldiers boarded light boats, sailing downstream at top speed to deliver their cargo to Jiangnan.

Upon arrival in Jiangnan, Master Yan Daiqing inspected the cargo, waved his hand, and ordered it all taken to the military logistics department. When the craftsmen of the Casting Bureau saw the Tie Futu heavy armor, they erupted in joy.

But when they learned there were over two thousand more suits waiting behind, they fell into stunned silence.

How many?!

Mo Jia master Pan Wanxiu, who had helped Li Guanyi establish Anxi in the Western Regions, pondered long and reached a conclusion very close to the truth—

"Could it be… that Qin Wang went and raided the Tie Futu and the Tian Kehan?"

Regardless, the Mo Jia engineers and military craftsmen were in high spirits—finally, with ample funding, they could devote themselves entirely to studying what they loved; this was, in itself, a reward.

The key point: Qin Wang had actually allocated funds.

As previously noted, although the newly returned heavy armor used excellent materials, its design was outdated—already archaic for this era.

It hadn't been that long since then.

His Highness the Qin Wang had directly kidnapped the Great Tian Kehan.

Good heavens.

Over two thousand sets of fully usable Tie Futu armor.

They had originally planned to dismantle them, but Master Wen Qingyu stopped them, telling them they had to leave two thousand sets of intact horse-and-rider armor. The gentle Master Wen Qingyu ran his palm over the armor and smiled approvingly: "Excellent…"

Mohist Master Pan Wanxiu and Agriculturalist Master Xu Tiange stated.

Master Wen Qingyu's gentle smile made people uncomfortable.

And when Pan Wanxiu, holding His Highness the Qin Wang's personal letter, went to seek out the Mo Juzi, he heard another noisy argument from inside: "What? You want to keep modifying it? What's the use of this thing?!"

"A five-hundred-year-old Qi Laogui!"

The Mo Juzi said: "Heh… well, Shier, you don't have to put it so harshly."

Elder Guan Shier said angrily: "One hundred and twenty-seven mechanical men!"

"One hundred and twenty-seven! Even if you were dismantling them, it would take you years, wouldn't it? But him? In less than half a year, he broke them all."

"I've been here almost a year now, and it's either repairing mechanisms for him, or adjusting materials—the mechanical arms I made couldn't last more than three days!"

"He had me build them all into nothing!"

The Mo Juzi said: "But then again—"

He still wanted to smooth things over, but Elder Guan Shier was clearly furious beyond measure, saying: "Every single one—either the toughness wasn't enough, or the force support wasn't enough, and that's without him even going all out. Xue Shen Jiang, are you here to toy with this old man?!"

A hearty laugh came from inside:

"No, it's just that your mechanical men really break too easily."

Pan Wanxiu sucked in two sharp breaths.

Both were Masters of the Mohist lineage.

Pan Wanxiu felt that this mysterious Divine General might as well have been directly toying with this Mohist elder—it would have been easier on the heart.

Elder Guan Shier's face had turned blue with rage. With a sweep of his sleeve, he said: "Fine, fine, fine! Your Qin Wang's house is big and your business is great, you Xue Shen Jiang will go down in history—this old man can't afford to offend you. I can't build a body for you, so I'll leave, alright? I'll leave, is that enough?!"

"Juzi old man, shut your mouth."

"If you try to smooth things over again, watch out—this old man will scold you along with him!"

Mohist elders, when out roaming the world righting wrongs, each and every one had an explosively fierce temper.

When they said they'd curse you to death, they'd curse you to death, without a moment's hesitation.

Even the Mo Juzi got no face. The Juzi, helpless, said:

"Well, after all, it's also for the good of the world."

Elder Guan Shier's temper flared and he cursed: "For the good of the world?!"

"Don't think that just because I run around outside while you sit in the Central Province Academy, I don't understand the state of the world. Right now, the four nations have only been recuperating for about a year, and the situation everywhere is evenly matched."

"For the world to change, something major would have to happen at this moment—causing one side among the grasslands, Chen, Ying, or Qin to be weakened, becoming a piece of fat meat, lowering the cost of the other three nations swallowing that meat down to a bearable level."

"Otherwise, there's no way a war could start!"

"They could very well keep recuperating for another ten or twenty years."

"War? For the world? Impossible! Even if I left here, traveled the world, and came back after a full circuit, there still wouldn't be a war!"

"You—you—you? What 'you' are you saying!"

"You, and that damned mechanism-dismantling Bai Hu Da Zong, and that Qin Wang—you all don't understand mechanical arts!"

"Insects unfit for counsel—I'm leaving!"

Elder Guan Shier stormed out, saw Pan Wanxiu over there, glared, and was about to start cursing. Pan Wanxiu had a flash of inspiration, pulled something from his bosom, held it high above his head, and shouted loudly: "Elder Guan, a letter from His Highness the Qin Wang!"

Elder Guan Shier was about to sweep his sleeve and say he wouldn't read it.

But in his heart he actually knew this matter had little to do with the Qin Wang.

Though his temper was fierce, he wouldn't take it out on bystanders. He raised his sleeve for a long moment, then merely snorted coldly, snatched Pan Wanxiu's letter, and as he read, he noticed Pan Wanxiu was also carrying a case. He said: "What's this?"

"This? It's a gift from His Highness the Qin Wang."

Elder Guan Shier's anger visibly diminished. He nodded, a rare occurrence, and his tone even softened: "…………The Qin Wang still knows propriety. Though he's ten thousand li away, he still remembers an old man like me. I gratefully accept His Highness's courtesy."

Elder Guan Shier fell silent for a moment, then shook out the letter as he read, and casually opened the case.

From inside the case, a wisp of golden-red light drifted out.

At the same time, an indescribable aura of majesty slowly emanated, carrying the grandeur of the pinnacle of all auspicious signs, spreading in all directions, surging outward, and in an instant the surroundings fell silent.

Inside the case were scales in an irregular, fractured state, radiating a composed, overwhelming presence.

Dragon scales!

And a particularly special kind at that!

Elder Guan Shier's expression froze, his gaze falling on the letter as he scanned through it.

Li Guanyi is ten thousand li away and has been unable to converse with Mr. Guan at all times—this is truly regrettable. On this journey far from home, I obtained some fortuitous encounters and acquired dragon scales. Xue Shen Jiang and I share the reality of a master-disciple bond; his methods are overbearing, and Guanyi suspects that few mechanisms could withstand Xue Shen Jiang's might.

【On this occasion I obtained over ten dragon scales, large and small—the largest the size of an adult, the smallest the size of a palm.】

【All are from the scales of the Lord of Crimson Flame Wrapping the Heavens, the Heaven-Esteemed Candle Dragon Swallowing the Sun—a top-tier Divine General. Struck by the baleful qi formation of the military school, they are incomparably hard, and imbued with the dragon essence of the Crimson Dragon and the aura of a top-tier Divine General. I imagine they can be used to craft mechanisms.】

Using the scales of an ancient Crimson Dragon, the foremost auspicious beast, to craft mechanisms?!!!

And just casually?

Really?!

Elder Guan Shier's eyes were practically glowing, his breathing growing heavy.

Then he looked at the final section of the letter.

【Guanyi does not understand the art of mechanisms, but so many dragon scales, if wasted, would be a pity.】

【They should all be handed over to Elder Guan!】

【Use as you wish, to craft mechanisms】!

Using the scales of the foremost auspicious beast of antiquity, the master of Crimson Flame Sweeping the Heavens, the Venerable Candle Dragon Swallowing the Sun, to manufacture mechanisms, with free use of all kinds of gold and silver at your disposal, completely satisfied?

Elder Guan Shier stared stiffly at the gold-red dragon scales, feeling that the radiance emanating from them was about to seep into his very heart. He had had a fierce quarrel with the Mo Juzi, and had originally planned to take this opportunity to leave.

While Qin Wang had not yet returned, he would leave Jiangnan at once.

By the time Qin Wang came back, he could say nothing against him, nor find him.

That had been his calculation…

Crack—

The Mohist disciples behind Pan Wanxiu carried a pile of cases, opened them all in unison, and every one was filled with dragon scales radiating flowing light.

But the dragon scales were simply too tempting.

Qin Wang was truly detestable—using the freely employed dragon scales of the ancient Crimson Dragon to forge whatever mechanisms he wished, freely providing funding and support, without reproach or punishment, to tempt a poor Mohist mechanism artisan.

What Mohist mechanism artisan could resist such a temptation?

The Mo Juzi and General Xue Shen watched as Elder Guan Shier flew into a rage, kicked the door and stormed out, read the letter, then silently came back, face taut.

The Mo Juzi, versed in human nature, knew that now was not the time to say anything.

But General Xue Shen let out a whistle and said: "Didn't you say, since we don't understand mechanisms, you're done with it?"

The Mo Juzi raised a hand to cover his forehead; sometimes, serving as Juzi between these two people was rather helpless.

Elder Guan Shier kept a taut face and hugged the cases of dragon scales even tighter.

"You two don't understand mechanisms."

"But Qin Wang, His Highness Qin Wang…"

The upright and incorruptible Mohist Elder Guan Shier said solemnly:

"The young hero Li Guanyi understands mechanisms far too well."

General Xue Shen burst out laughing, watching Elder Guan Shier curse and grumble as he dragged the Mo Juzi off to re-plan how to use the dragon scales as material to truly forge a mechanism armor powerful enough to contain General Xue Shen's own strength.

General Xue Shen's smile faded slightly, thoughtful: "…………The armor of the ancient Crimson Dragon."

"I should be able to fight with all my strength as well."

"But such changes—it's only been a year of stability, and now the world is changing again?"

General Xue Shen's silent deliberation outpaced everyone.

On the very second day after the dragon scales arrived, three pieces of news rang out across all the lands at once.

The first news came from the realm.

The Great Tian Kehan of the Turks clashed with Qin Wang at Saibei.

The Great Tian Kehan was defeated and fled under cover of night.

In that battle, three thousand elite Iron Buddha personal guards were lost; the Turks' pillar of support, the Left Wise King, the Seventh General of the World, the steppe's foremost divine archer Mu Zhahe, was slain! The steppe nation's strength suffered a tremendous blow, the edge of its martial might blunted.

The second news spread through the jianghu, flowing into the world through the chivalrous deeds of wandering heroes and the clinking of cups in taverns.

Murong Longtu emerged from seclusion, and with one sword slew Mu Zhahe.

Swept clean three thousand Tie Futu.

Once more proving that within the span of a three-foot blade, none could stand against him.

The third news—

The Divine General Ranking has been updated.

The Second Divine General of the World has changed hands.

?? Begging for monthly votes, friends~