Chapter 499: The Realm Stirs — Northern Expedition, Northern Expedition!

Troops massed with spears leveled, blades and swords at the ready; looking out from atop Xiyicheng, one saw only billowing killing intent like black clouds churning and rolling across this stretch of sky — the so-called "killing Qi forms battle clouds at the third watch, the cold sound of watch-drums carried through the night."

Yet atop Xiyicheng, two men were playing Go.

Black and white stones fell onto the board with crisp clicks; one was a youth with a gentle, plain demeanor, the other a man of calm arrogance. The former held black, the latter white. Pojun gazed at the board and said offhandedly: "Qingyu, fine move."

"Standing outside, stirring up trouble — the original one-tenth of hostility has been whipped up by you into ten full parts. Now, the standoff between Chen and Ying no longer answers to those gentlemen in the court."

"Even if they say now that there will be no fighting, the men below will no longer agree."

Wen He smiled gently: "I am merely executing. The grand strategy was still devised by Mr. Pojun. Truly worthy of being Your Majesty the Qin Wang's foremost strategist, the chief counselor of the three armies — without you, sir, it would not suffice!"

Mr. Pojun's expression did not change as he said lightly:

"Do you think saying such things works on me?"

Wen He said earnestly: "All the world says so, and it is true. The sage said, the Book of Songs contains three hundred pieces, and one word sums them up: no false thought. That is, the heart is sincere. The heart is sincere, with no concealment or scheming, and what issues forth in words can move a person to the very marrow."

"Every word Wen He speaks comes from the bottom of his heart; there is not the slightest concealment."

Pojun's bearing remained unhurried; he merely played his stones calmly.

His left hand pinched a Go piece, his right hand clasped behind his back — and tightened into a fist.

Satisfying!

Pojun was now already thirty-four years old; at the very least he had come to know the existence of secretly savoring a moment.

Mr. Wen He's gaze was mellow and warm. Looking at this brilliant chief strategist whose lips he could barely keep from twitching, he sipped his tea, glanced at the killing Qi soaring outside Xiyicheng, and said: "The handoff between spring and summer in the northwest still carries a bit of chill."

"Mr. Pojun, it's a bit cold up high — shall we go down to play?"

Pojun said flatly: "No."

"Why?"

Pojun was concise and self-righteous: "Only this way do I have the bearing of a famous scholar."

Mr. Wen He: "…………"

"Mm… mm??"

The smile on Mr. Wen He's face froze.

Although it was he, he was often thrown off rhythm by Mr. Pojun's unexpected choices and replies.

After these two fellows arrived at Xiyicheng, with Li Zhaowen's support they took charge of Xiyicheng's actions. In their eyes, the so-called calm situation of the moment was like a platform built up with wooden sticks.

It looked steady and secure, but in reality, one only needed to extend a finger and poke it, and it would collapse completely from top to bottom.

The contradictions already existed, and they were extremely intense.

They would not cease to exist simply because, after the civil and military officials bartered their interests, they papered over the peace and pretended nothing was wrong.

Truly top-tier strategists never recklessly force such things.

They all work by guiding the tide.

They take contradictions that already exist and intensify them, letting them erupt in a violent fashion.

Xiyicheng's famed general Xia Hou Duan raised his head, looking up at the high place where the long wind danced and sleeves fluttered. Above, the two famous scholars — one with a gentle bearing, wearing a long robe of deep blue-green figured satin; the other tall and jade-like, dressed only in black and red layered garments.

Playing Go above the source of this age of chaos — what magnificent elegance!

How it won hearts, how it inspired awe, how it made one afraid, made one tremble.

This famed general, who had lived through the previous era, had witnessed these two's methods with his own eyes. The entire situation within a thousand li of Xiyicheng seemed wrapped beneath their fingers; the two strategists raised their hands, spread their five fingers, and the hanging threads controlled the situation.

Guiding the tide, at the lowest cost, they successfully inflamed the contradictions that had been suppressed.

And no one knew who had added a handful of fire to the blaze.

How terrifying.

Strategists of this caliber — and in the Qin Wang's household there was more than one.

At this moment, if either side's commanding officer refused to march out, he might even be overthrown by his own soldiers. Each side's fighting spirit had been roused; the armies of reinforcements from both sides kept arriving, and from the heights of Xiyicheng, one could see different banners arriving every day.

The reinforcing soldiers from both sides were nearly linking up into one long dragon.

Banners snapped fierce; killing Qi surged.

Amid the onlookers' gazes of admiration and dread, Mr. Pojun finally tightened his clothes and said: "The wind's a bit strong — let's go down after all."

When Mr. Wen He went down, Xia Hou Duan and the others came to greet the two gentlemen. Only these two were asked to leave behind their calligraphy, so that it might be passed down to later generations — this too was a record of the great events of this place.

Decades from now, perhaps this would become historical material.

Not merely folk tales or privately compiled wild histories by literati.

But official history.

Mr. Wen He unhesitatingly took up his brush and finished in one fluid motion, writing the three characters "Xiyicheng," then signing his name. Mr. Pojun had originally been too lazy to bother with such a thing, but Mr. Wen He said two sentences, and Mr. Pojun was surprised, thoughtful.

Then he gladly took up his brush.

After the two left, Xia Hou Duan and the others went to look, and their expressions all changed.

【Wondrous Stratagem】 — Yan Daiqing of the Western Regions.

【Brilliant Scheme】 — Yan Daiqing of Star-Gazing.

Mr. Wen He smiled in delight, the corner of his mouth curling up, then pressing it down.

In the end it still rose up.

Today Yan Daiqing could do nothing about him.

Satisfying!

Mr. Pojun, however, felt that all the famed ministers and generals under heaven were fools and dolts; he had no interest in establishing great deeds, in having his name passed down to later ages so that those dolts might worship him. Since that was so, among those who would be credited with the stratagems of Xiyicheng —

Naturally he chose the more entertaining way of handling it.

Mr. Wen Qingyu said cheerfully: "At this moment, Daiqing must still be feeling relaxed and pleased because I am not in Tiance Prefecture. Ah, I truly do hope to see the change in his expression."

Mr. Pojun shook his head, feeling this fellow was simply problematic.

He raised his head, looking at the thick clouds layered and pressed down by the military killing Qi that stirred the world's vital essence. In the strategist's eyes blazed that forest-like, iron-like chill; he knit his brow slightly for a long while.

"My lord, the great momentum has begun."

"What follows, I leave to all of you…"

The second day.

The great battle of Xiyicheng began. Both the State of Chen and the State of Ying committed over a hundred thousand troops. The conflicts and frictions accumulated over this period erupted in this manner. The sound of weapons clashing roared from morning all the way into the night,

The setting sun was like blood.

…………………

"What? Xiyicheng has gone to war?!" The Right Chancellor Feng Yuning was just about to lift his brush to paint. Hearing such words, his face wore an expression of concern for the fate of the nation. He waved his hand, telling the one reporting this news to withdraw first.

In the end he finished this painting. Looking at this Ten Thousand Li Map of Jiangshan, every stroke and every line showed masterful skill, the result of his years of painstaking study. He could be called a master of his generation—grand in spirit, elegant where the brush fell—even the great painters of antiquity could not be mentioned in the same breath as him.

"Indeed, with the world in such turmoil, the situation has already reached this point. It would be strange if war didn't break out."

"Our great Chen truly is about to perish."

The Right Chancellor was silent for a long while, then still wrote a letter and dispatched a trusted confidant. When that confidant went and returned, there was a slap mark on his face. Feng Yuning said: "What are the people of the Ministry of War doing?"

That confidant kowtowed and wept: "They refuse to hand over the goods."

"Refuse to hand over the goods?!"

Feng Yuning laughed coldly, swept his sleeve, and said: "Those stinking soldiers—when the nation is in mortal peril, they're still drawing pay for ghost soldiers, still embezzling military funds! The front line fights, while they enjoy themselves in the rear!"

"This Chancellor will certainly impeach them!"

"This money, handed to this Chancellor, is naturally better than handed to those worthless soldiers!"

Feng Yuning was extremely angry, yet in his study he wrote furiously, bristling with rage, swearing to impeach the Minister of War and the Vice Minister of War. His son, upon learning of this matter, still tried to persuade him:

"Father, in this time of national peril, to withhold military funds for the front line—no matter how you look at it, it's going a bit too far…"

Feng Yuning frowned, turned, and slapped his son across the face, rebuking:

"Foolish!"

"What does the rise and fall of the nation have to do with us?!"

"Have you read yourself stupid?!"

Feng Jingxiu was stunned.

Feng Yuning furrowed his brows. This scholar who in his youth had become famous in all directions for writing a poem pitying the farmers lowered his voice and said: "This great Chen is about to perish. Our entire clan of several thousand, several tens of thousands of people—all depend on you and me. If you and I fall, nine clans will be implicated. Won't all these thousands, tens of thousands of people be killed?"

"How could we possibly still have the life we have now?"

"My son, would you sacrifice the lives of nine clans for the clean reputation of one man? Or would you, even shouldering some ill repute and filth, protect your own blood relatives?"

Feng Yuning was eloquent and persuasive; his arguments left Feng Jingxiu speechless.

The Right Chancellor Feng Yuning's expression softened as well, a trace of sorrow and pain appearing on his face: "Besides, it was because His Majesty would not heed the advice of the various renowned scholars and great Confucians that we have reached this state today. How can you blame me? When the sovereign does not act as a sovereign, then the minister does not act as a minister—such is the way of the world."

"Must we really all die together for that incompetent and tyrannical Chen Dingye?"

"Do you want to be a dead scholar, a dead gentleman?"

"Great Chen is going to perish. Before Great Chen falls, we must take more gold and silver. As a real man, in these chaotic times, protecting one's own family and clan is already a stretch—where would we find the energy to care about anything else?"

Feng Jingxiu's expression shifted: "But the military funds for the front line—how could we possibly…"

Feng Yuning gazed at his son. After a long while, he said: "Do you think only your father is fighting for it?"

"Why is the Ministry of War refusing to let go?"

Feng Jingxiu's face changed drastically. Feng Yuning sighed and said:

"Do you know how severe the ghost-pay problem is in the army?"

"Do you know how many of the names on the roster of an army nominally at full strength of a hundred thousand are just there to draw grain and silver?"

"It is not that your father wishes to do such things."

"But the great momentum of the world rages like this. In this court, civil and military officials alike—everyone is grabbing. Who doesn't take? Everyone takes. In this situation, if others take and you don't, you're a fool, a laughingstock."

"Others eat their fill, and later can still save their lives, laughing as they watch those rigid, foolish gentlemen die, their white bones turn to ash, and no one even knows."

"Besides, your father has already sent someone to Qin Wang."

"No matter what, your father will find a way out for you all… Go elsewhere, and even if we father and son cannot achieve great fame, cannot take part in court affairs as we do now, at the very least we can have wealth and honor, and live out our years in peace."

"After all…"

Feng Yuning said confidently: "I have, you know, had people send it."

"A full eight million taels of silver!"

……………………

In Xiyicheng, winds rose and clouds surged. The front lines were under pressure, while in the rear the officials devoured everything.

But in the end they still held firm against the State of Ying's assault. The two sides slaughtered each other fiercely here. It could not compare to the Western Regions campaign of a few years prior, nor to the battle where Yu Langwang drove straight into the heart of the great State of Ying—but it was still a rare display of valor in recent years.

The eyes of the world all converged here.

Logistics and military forces gathered from all sides. The State of Chen and the State of Ying mobilized conscripted laborers, corvée workers standing in for reserve armies, to transport grain and supplies. On the roads from the Ducheng of Chen, from the northern border all the way to Xiyicheng, there were people transporting provisions.

But just at this critical moment.

Enemy forces were spotted at several cities of the State of Chen.

This time they did not come from the north, but from further south within Chen's territory. Five great armies marched out together. The army at Zhenxi Pass City—the leader swung the weapon in his hand and laughed, his voice shaking the four directions.

The Chen general who rode out had not yet seen the enemy's blade when, amid the low howl of wolves, his neck ached. Then his head flew off, a gush of hot blood spilling out. In that searing pain, only one thought remained in his mind:

'What a fast blade… what ferocious cavalry…'

The vision before his eyes gradually dimmed.

He only heard a voice carried on the wind—a voice that had been silent for several hundred years—as the sound of hooves struck down, exploding like rolling thunder.

"The Fire Qilin Army, Khan Qibili, at your service!"

Golden curved-saber cavalry, of the Tiele lineage.

The finest light cavalry under heaven.

Khan Qibili, at the peak of the Sixth Heaven, the Great Khan of the Tiele Nine-Surnames, led the swiftest and fiercest light cavalry in the world under his command, slicing into Chen's territory from an impossible direction like a blade.

Storm the cities, seize the land!

His cavalry were swift; the fierce warriors pressed their bodies tight against their mounts as they charged, the specially forged weapon-grade curved sabers in their hands so thin and sharp they seemed able to tear the wind itself.

The most dangerous, the sharpest blade — the Qin Wang's first knife.

Tearing apart the false peace that cloaks the world.

In the southwestern theater, with the Southwest King Duan Qingyu absent, it was the old general Tai Bo Yong, once a follower of Duan Qingyu, who led the Southwest Flying Army onto the battlefield. The old general gripped a ponderous mace in one hand, resting it on his shoulder, gazing at the Chen cities ahead.

"Heh… Tai Ping Gong, Wu Wang."

"This old man lost to you two more times than I can count. Back then I swore I would never bow my head to you — but now that you're both dead, the promise we made back then no longer counts!"

"And now, an old codger like me must fight under the command of your sons."

"This world of ours, truly, is beyond imagining."

Tai Bo Yong raised the massive mace in his hand. The strength of a Sixth Heaven peak cultivator was enough to lead an entire army. He stared ahead, his gaze blazing: "Southwest Flying Army, children of the Jiuli —"

"Beat the drums! Advance!"

The defenders saw the giant iron-eating beasts roaring ahead, charging at full speed across the battlefield, the Flying Army galloping alongside the auspicious beast on either side, the war banners of Jiuli raised high once more.

On the southeastern battlefield, the howl of the grey wolf shook the heavens and the earth.

The young divine general, gripping a double-edged warblade, charged across the battlefield just as his father once had. Behind him rode a cavalry corps no less formidable than the Night Rushriders — the Grey Wolf Guard, personally trained by Yu Langwang.

One slash of his warblade, and the enemy's weapon was split clean in two. The young divine general did not take the man's life, only knocked him unconscious and tumbled him from his horse. Behind him, the great banner snapped and billowed — beneath the grey wolf sigil, a massive commander's flag bearing the character Chen.

His brows lifted. Beside him, a divine general who had lost an arm and had it restored by mechanical means rode as his protector.

The young war general drew a deep breath and declared in a ringing voice:

"I am the son of Wu Wang — Chen Wenmian!"

"You there — state your name!!!"

On another stretch of battlefield, Fan Qing gazed in silence at his brothers-in-arms ahead, at those familiar faces that had marched beside him all this time. A faint smile crossed his lips as he raised the weapon in his hand.

And there was that banner — tattered and torn, stained with crimson marks, the original Fire Qilin Army flag, still bearing the fingerprints of every hand that had touched it.

Now, of those who once pressed their palms here, some have perished, some have come and gone — but beneath this banner, there are still those who follow.

The army's soul roars.

We fight side by side.

We shall fight side by side again.

The Fire Qilin banner rises against the sky.

Of humble origin, yet struggling endlessly on the battlefield, surviving death countless times, crushing the oppression of the ancient Crimson Dragon's blood by sheer will, his primordial spirit advancing further — the divine general gripped his weapon and stepped onto the battlefield.

"Fan Qing of the Fire Qilin Army — I salute you."

Just as the whole world was watching Xiyicheng, sighing that although the Qin Wang had taken Xiyicheng, he had lost his former surging momentum and was not participating in this great war —

The Qin Wang played the cruelest card of all.

He launched a simultaneous offensive on all four fronts. Among the four armies, the strongest commander was Chen Wenmian, son of Wu Wang, wielding a divine weapon, with Xiao Wuliang as his deputy. Even the weakest of the four was a battle-hardened general at the Sixth Heaven level.

Chen and Ying were merely border troubles.

But at this critical moment, the Qin Wang pulled out a nation-destroying level of momentum, with the bearing of a man who would crush Chen outright at the slightest provocation.

Yuan Zhi and the others held the rear.

With the four armies thus deployed, Chen came under tremendous assault. While its elite forces were locked in a standoff with Ying and Xiyicheng, the true elites under the Qin Wang drove into the battlefield and the realm like spears, piercing clean through.

Chen reacted swiftly. Even in such a state of decay, its bulk remained enormous — it was still a giant, rotting though it was. It mobilized troops from all directions and barely managed to hold back the Qin Wang's four-pronged assault.

After all, Ying only wanted Xiyicheng.

But the Qin Wang — the Qin Wang truly wanted Chen dead.

And at such a moment, they still made what could be called the correct judgment.

In the face of death, they swiftly mobilized troops, gathering an army of two hundred thousand, assembling the surviving famed generals from beyond the Xiyicheng battlefield and pushing forward. Among these generals were veterans of the Ministry of War, as well as those recommended by the Right Chancellor Feng Yuning.

They were, of course, capable men.

Though greedy for wealth, they had also cultivated Wu Gong and military strategy along the way. After a council of war, they concluded that the Qin Wang intended to use the Xiyicheng affair to plunder great benefits from the rear of this great Chen.

The Qin Wang sat in the rear, preparing for his capping ceremony.

Sending out forces on four fronts was meant to strike Chen from multiple directions and seize its lands.

Faced with such a situation, sitting and waiting for death was out of the question.

But splitting forces four ways to respond to each of the Qin Wang's armies in turn was not a good choice either — it was, in fact, the choice of an amateur.

It would mean Chen was moving in response to the enemy's choices.

Such a reactive approach would itself fall into passivity. Moreover, under the Qin Wang's banner, fierce generals were as numerous as clouds and strategists as plentiful as rain — moving to the enemy's tempo was tantamount to being led by the nose, a certain path to death.

The only option now was a bold, dangerous stroke — strike where the enemy must rescue!

Thus they planned a rapid central thrust into Qin territory, aiming straight at the enemy's capital, hoping to attack in lieu of defending. They did not, of course, harbor any expectation of breaking through Jiangnan in one blow — they merely wished to use this to tie down the offensives of the other three armies.

Forcing the enemy to recall forces for defense, thereby weakening the opponent's assault and protecting Chen's remaining cities.

It was a dangerous gambit, yet a strategy with an extremely high success rate.

Given Jiangnan's foundation, this strategy was bound to be exceedingly perilous.

But these generals did not hesitate in the slightest.

For a man to make his name, for military merit to earn a marquisate — that hour was now!

One general's glory is built on ten thousand bones. In an age of such upheaval, how could one grow old and die in a single place? Besides, the Qin Wang was preparing his capping ceremony now, and every eye in the world was fixed on that — what had they left to fear?

The army of two hundred thousand marched in haste, and seven days later, they encountered their enemy —

Solemn. Silent. Still.

The banners snapped fiercely, pointing at the sky. Black banners, like rolling clouds, descended from the heavens. Dark armor radiated killing intent; the atmosphere was oppressive, silent, as if a single entity, its spear-tips aimed at the sky.

When the wind blew past, it was like a long wind passing through a bamboo forest, its sound rising slowly.

Beneath those great banners one after another, the battle generals stood in a row, all wearing armor, expressions solemn, not a word spoken—only behind them, ripples rose in the void, transforming into beast after beast, dharma-images, crouching low and pressing their claws, letting out roars one after another.

Precisely because of the silence, the oppressive weight and pressure only grew heavier.

Seventh Heaven, Divine Archer General Wang Shunchen.

Peak of Sixth Heaven, Generals Ling Pingyang of the Beiwei Army.

Peak of Sixth Heaven, Yang Xingshi.

Seventh Heaven, Han Zaizhong.

Strategist — Pang Shuiyun.

Behind these famed generals stood the armies beneath their respective banners.

The Tabai Army, the Xuanfeng Army, the Shengjie Army, and the Beiwei Army took their stand at the rear. The generals of the State of Chen's forces stiffened, watching the terrifying army formations' baleful aura converge together, then transform into a Golden-Winged Great Peng, Mu Zi Yi displaying its existence.

Beneath the great banner bearing the character Yue, the dragon-like steed stepped forward slowly, hoofbeat by hoofbeat, as if trampling through this age of chaos, like a low war drum.

The general clad in dark-gold mountain-patterned armor, helmet, and crimson greatcloak gripped his long spear, then beneath that banner raised it, pointing ahead. The great banner snapped and unfurled; the military house's baleful aura surged wantonly toward the vault of heaven, transforming into churning black clouds.

Your opponent.

Yue Pengwu.

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