Chapter 508: Welcome the Royal Army!

That day, the fire in Jiangzhou City blazed fiercely and surged rapidly; the man had just been asleep, gathering up the red embroidered cloth his wife had sewn, and strangely, the young ladies had said it was needed by the Chancellor.

But even now, the Chancellor had not come to claim it.

Nor had he sent anyone to fetch it.

He grew worried, and carefully kept the cloth stored away; he had not slept all night, and the next day, he heard loud commotion outside—sounds like rebel troops had broken into battle.

He rushed out hastily, dragged his wife back inside their cramped little room, slammed and barred the door, then gripped a heavy mallet in his hands, eyes wide and bloodshot.

He muttered prayers to every god he knew, and every god he didn't.

He hoped the immortal lords would open their eyes, show mercy, and protect them.

He hoped some righteous my lord would, in great compassion, come to save them.

He prayed to the Buddha of great mercy and compassion.

He prayed to the Bodhisattva of great mercy, who rescues from suffering and peril.

He prayed to the Heavenly Lord's compassion, to the Great Emperor's benevolence.

But why would none of them save them?

Yet outside, the noise surged, grew violent, filling him with dread—he did not know what was happening. After a long silence, sudden stumbling footsteps approached, then loud pounding on the door.

"Open the door! Open the door!"

The man and his wife recognized the voice.

It was Li Guan.

He hastily dropped the mallet, clasped his calloused hands together, rubbed them nervously, then bent low and hurried over, fumbling to open the door.

In his panic, he knocked over the wooden bar blocking the door, stumbling and flailing, utterly disheveled.

Finally yanking the door open, he pleaded: "Li Guan, you've finally come! What's happened? Why didn't you come to collect the colored cloth we agreed on…?"

Li Guan looked equally disheveled—his clothes covered in dust, as if he'd rolled and scrambled like a rat on the ground. He stepped inside, gasping for breath: "Where is it?"

"Ah, ah, the cloth—wife, quickly bring out the cloth!"

The man shouted to his wife.

The woman brought it out, offering it with submissive deference, afraid to show anger: "It's been carefully embroidered, following every pattern the young ladies gave us—truly, perfectly done."

Li Guan snatched it open with impatience, glanced once, and flew into a rage—clapping his hands together, he crumpled the cloth into a ball and hurled it violently away, roaring: "What kind of devilish trash is this?!"

He possessed some Wu Gong.

Add to that his shock and fury, and with one throw, the ball struck his wife's forehead, knocking her backward, blood spurting from her scalp; she groaned in pain, then curled up, clutching her head.

She was in agony, yet dared not utter a single word, not even a cry of pain.

Crying out in pain at home meant you knew your family was near—they worried, cared, tended to you; when someone cared, fear and pain flowed out in tears, and the heart no longer ached.

Not crying out outside meant you knew no one cared—instead, your cries would annoy them, disturb their peace, make them angry, and only invite harsher blows.

So she forced herself to become a rotten log, a torn rag, curling tight, enduring the blows—until the pain numbed, and the heart no longer hurt.

Li Guan was consumed by rage. He knew the world had changed, knew Qin Wang's army was outside, and knew the moment that would decide whether he could keep his current life had arrived.

This crucial matter rested on this cloth—but this vile thing, this embroidery—what words had it been stitched with?!

He could not even read, yet had stitched the four characters "Xi Ying Wang Shi" crookedly and incorrectly—so badly, so unreadable, how could such a foolish, stupid thing be presented to Prince Qin?!"

My life, my future—damn it, damn it!

Under this crushing pressure, he nearly went mad, shedding all his former restraint, acting only to vent—without purpose, without direction, simply releasing his terror and resentment by kicking his wife.

The man froze, helpless, then lunged forward, grabbing Li Guan, forcing a smile: "Li Guan, what are you doing… if I've done something wrong…"

Li Guan roared: "Get out!!"

He flicked his sleeve—the man was flung backward, crashing into the wall, pain so sharp tears sprang to his eyes; he mentally chanted every god, Buddha, and Bodhisattva he knew—but it did no good.

When Li Guan realized he was utterly trapped, with no hope left, his mind shattered—he could only vent his emotions through unchecked brutality.

"Scream! Scream, you worthless thing!"

"Ugly and black, you lowborn scum, scum!"

"You've ruined my future! Cry! Beg me!"

As blows rained down like rain, the woman remained silent, not a sound; the man knelt, weeping, begging, shouting:

"Great merciful Buddha."

"Great merciful Bodhisattva, rescuer from suffering and peril."

"Heavenly Lord, have mercy! Great Emperor, be benevolent! Save us! Save us!"

No response came—only the furious attacks, and his wife, slowly slipping into unconsciousness, blood pooling beneath her. The man's mind buzzed, recalling childhood: when their family still had land, when festival boats glided through reeds to other villages.

On the wooden bridge beside the stage, he had seen a woman—wearing white cloth, black hair, shining eyes fixed on him; no stars in the sky, the water dark, he rocked on the boat, swaying in the ripples—as if swaying inside her eyes.

His mind buzzed.

He saw the mallet, soaked in blood.

His hand reached out. Li Guan paid no attention to the man behind him—he panted, staring at the woman, motionless. He had used no inner energy, only fists and feet to vent.

For a cultivator at his level, inner Qi was still precious.

He had to save it for escape.

He spat: "Lowborn scum—grass growing from the ground, cut one shoot, another grows—how dare you…"

ZOOM!!!!

His ears suddenly rang—but this was not tinnitus.

It was the mallet, crashing hard into the back of his skull—blunt force piercing armor, bones cracking, searing pain, overwhelming blood loss, his body's instinctive shock—he spun around and saw the man, raising the mallet high, tears streaming down his face.

Then he brought it down with all his strength!

"Wait! Let's talk this out—you're committing treason—AHHHH!!!"

Li Guan's panicked cry was instantly drowned by a piercing scream—a cultivator who had not yet entered the path, struck hard on the back of the skull, writhed in unbearable agony, unable to react at all.

The man's face was streaming with tears, again and again, his grip on the hammer, swinging it in a full arc, then smashing down viciously, each blow seeming to use every ounce of his strength, wailing and crying out:

"Great Compassionate Great Merciful Buddha."

"Great Compassionate Great Merciful, Rescue-the-Suffering Rescue-the-Distress Guanyin Bodhisattva."

"Heavenly Honored Old Lord, have mercy; Great Emperor Grandfather, be benevolent!"

He called upon every god and Buddha in the heavens, then blow after blow, pouring out all his strength and his last remaining courage, hammered that Steward Li, that man who once stood high above, like a heavenly god, into a pulp.

Hammered into a mess of blood and flesh.

He had used too much force, so much that he had even sprained his own wrist; in the end, looking at the old master who had become a pile of rotten meat, a puddle of rotten mud, his wrist trembled, the hammer clattered to the ground with a clang, and he gasped for breath.

So it turned out there were no gods or Buddhas in this world.

So it turned out the gods and Buddhas of this world were still not as useful as the hammer in his hand.

He went blank, then staggered to the other side, helped his wife up; the wife opened her eyes, the man was both sorrowful and joyful, choking out: "You're alright, that's good, that's good…"

The man who had just beaten someone to death curled up in the woman's arms like a child; the woman reached out and patted his broad yet powerless back, lowering her voice, softly, but with a rising lilt at the end, saying:

"He's too stupid."

"I've taken a lot of beatings before."

"I know how to let him beat me to his heart's content, without hurting us ourselves."

The man raised his head, saw that in those pitch-black eyes he had looked into when young, there was a crafty meaning, only a little bit of light left; the man sat up, roughly wiped the tears from his face, and said: "What do we do?"

"Can't run anymore."

"Let it be then."

The man helped the woman up, still wanting to run, to run far, far away, to leave this place, to run to some wild wasteland, where any patch of land, any bit of grain, gnawing bark and eating weeds, would be enough to survive on.

But at this moment, he was stunned, he saw flames rising up, these flames spreading to every place, Jiangzhou City, the capital of Chen Kingdom, the most magnificent and prosperous city of all the Central Plains, sinking into the flames just like that.

Despair filled the man's eyes.

He looked at the hammer, yet seemed to relax, no longer caring about anything, then suddenly lowered his head, picked up that colored cloth the steward had discarded, feeling it was poorly embroidered, unworthy of Qin Wang's dignity, and wrapped it around his wife.

"Such fine cloth."

The woman carefully nuzzled her cheek against the colored cloth.

The man looked at her and said: "You look so beautiful!"

The flames rose, and only at this moment did they seem to set down those heavy burdens again, as if they had become once more those young people from so, so many years ago, standing before that dim temple fair.

This fire is pretty good too.

The man thought, he held the woman's body tightly, intending to use his own frame to resist the raging fire, but in this moment of despair, yet also of release and peace, a roar suddenly came from the sky.

This roar was deep and heavy, yet not the kind that frightened people; instead it brought peace; they instinctively raised their heads and saw a creature that only appeared in myths stepping through the flames, arriving in the sky, then throwing back its head to roar.

The flames that had been about to burn over toward them suddenly froze, then flew up toward the sky; ten thousand fires gathered together and fell upon the Fire Qilin's body; the man was stunned.

The flames surged upward, as if carrying gust after gust of scorching wind flying up together, so the crimson cloth wrapped around her also flew up, reaching the sky, billowing open.

He suddenly had a feeling, he didn't recognize those four characters, but most likely, he understood what kind of feeling and meaning this line of text represented.

It read—

Joyfully Welcoming the King's Army.

Chen Dingye departed, Li Guanyi's forces entered Jiangzhou City, using the heavy-armored Qilin Army to curb the collapse of order that was extremely likely to occur in such a panicked situation, then checked the area to see if there were any other contingencies left behind by Chen Dingye.

However, after spending nearly a whole day on a simple sweep, the conclusion they reached was enough to shake everyone.

"The fire barely burned toward the common people, or rather, before it even had a chance to start burning, it had already been taken away by the Fire Qilin. Strange, didn't that old fox Chen Dingye know about the Fire Qilin's power long ago? How did he still dare to set fire in front of His Majesty?!"

Southwest King Duan Qingyu was puzzled.

In the Qilin Army, a war general of the previous generation whose ability to withstand pressure was maxed out, who had faced the joint attacks of Tai Ping Gong and Wu Wang many times and still managed to escape, escaping several times in a row, and going to fight every time.

Lost every time.

Came back to fight even after losing.

At the same time, the contemporary pressure-bearing king of the Qilin Army, General Yue Qianfeng, stroked the beard on his chin, and offered a very distinctive view, saying: "Maybe this kid finally wrecked his own brain, but there are other things that are even more puzzling…"

Yue Qianfeng stroked his chin and said: "The inner city got burned pretty badly."

Within a city, there is the inner city and the outer city; although there is no clear division, with the Chen Kingdom's imperial palace as the center, going outward, the higher-ranking the officials and nobles, the more sought-after figures of the court, the closer their residences were to the palace—a special mark of imperial favor.

In the past, this was the distinction between inner and outer; in the eyes of the inner-city nobles, the other common folk of Jiangzhou were not qualified to say they lived in the capital of Great Chen, they were merely commoners who provided them with various conveniences.

But this time, the flames had almost only burned the high officials and nobles of the inner city, the noble families and famous scholars.

There were ditches dug in advance to ensure the flames did not spread outward; the fierce blaze had already burned itself out even before Chen Dingye climbed the city wall and announced the burning of the city with fire; the real fire had long since burned out.

The fire set afterward was almost like a performance.

Moreover, after Yue Qianfeng and Duan Qingyu surveyed the scene, they discovered an even more shocking sight.

In many noble family households, not a single living person was left behind; regardless of innocence, regardless of whether they were good people, all were slaughtered; the corpses were piled together, along with the families' precious land deeds and indentures, burned into ashes, forming a horrifying scene.

Yue Qianfeng could be considered a fierce general on the battlefield; he had roamed the battlefield with an air of invincibility, his weapon of choice being the twin battle-halberds best suited for slaughter, and his mastery of the Red Dragon Shakes the Nine Provinces Divine Art could also earn him the title of blood-soaked hands.

But even a man like him, facing what had happened in Jiangzhou City, still felt a creeping sense of dread:

"Burning deeds, slaying scholars."

"This guy's reputation in later ages is probably going to be utterly ruined."

"In the past, Old Yue thought Chen Dingye's methods were too ruthless, but today, these methods used on these bastards with their eyes planted on their asses—now that feels immensely satisfying."

"After all, even Wen He, Master Wen Qingyu, wouldn't be this ruthless."

"Three hundred years of Great Chen noble families—how noble, how successful must one be to live near the imperial palace? How many years of scheming must it take to stand in Jiangzhou City, with roots tangled throughout the realm, just like the roots of an old tree?"

"Have you seen it? There's a kind of tree whose roots are bigger than the tree above, much bigger, dense and tangled; dig it up and look, and on the roots hang the dried corpses of rotten rats."

"This time, Chen Dingye has thoroughly uprooted these noble families."

"Damn, so clean and efficient, damn it, these methods are even more efficient, ruthless, and direct than Yan Daiqing's… ahem, I mean, even more so than Master Wen Qingyu; scheming and whatnot really can't compare to just picking up a blade and hacking through."

Yue Qianfeng sighed with deep feeling.

Before coming in, Duan Qingyu had learned of what Chen Dingye had done and had been disdainful, but upon seeing the city burned, he felt something was off—how did that easy-to-bully brat from back then have a whiff of the old Chen family's mad blood?

Once he came in and took a look, damn.

How is this thing even more terrifying than when old wolf Chen Fubi was alive?!

Are all you people of the old Chen family the kind who grow more fearsome the more desperate the situation?

This Southwest King, Duan Qingyu, had his whole head buzzing.

He felt he was a bit out of step with the rhythm of the whole Central Plains—what was this thing? A foolish ruler? A tyrant? Or a hero of ruthless ambition?

He had always felt that among the Chen kingdom line, only Chen Fubi was truly difficult to deal with.

Now he felt that if he were to face Chen Dingye, he'd likely be played to death.

Is this what they call a sovereign, honed by three hundred years of chaos to this day?

Duan Qingyu sighed in his heart, unable to speak, yet his gaze fell again on the young, steady Qin Wang, and for a moment felt that staying in Jiuli, in the Southwest, too peacefully, didn't seem to be such a good thing after all.

Almost unable to keep up with the changes in the Central Plains.

Regardless, regardless of all the clever schemes before, all the various plots and stratagems.

In the end, the noble houses and the officials never anticipated Chen Dingye's single sword stroke.

The top official families and military-civil power brokers, deeply entrenched and having sucked the blood and flesh of Great Chen for three hundred years, were all killed clean—top to bottom, burned to ash.

Those indentures and land deeds, obtained before through all kinds of scheming and tricks, were burned by fire, and mixed with the bone-dust of the corpses, drifted down in a leisurely fall—yet it counted as a clean sweep.

The ferocity of the killing, the cold and efficient methods—those were Chen Dingye's handiwork.

But the madness and resolve—before Great Chen perished as a nation, first slaughtering these vermin to the road together; the sovereign about to lose his kingdom and his life, yet caring nothing for the so-called innocent or not, his long sword sweeping past, with not the slightest concern.

All you high ministers, loyal ministers and fine generals, take the first step ahead.

Your families shall follow in days to come.

Li Guanyi fell silent for a moment, then asked: "What about the people I told you to find?"

General Yue Qianfeng replied: "The Empress and the others are still here, but the Ye family, the Zhou family, and these seem to have been swept along by Chen Dingye's army and taken to the north—that direction is Zhenbei City."

"In Zhenbei City, there are still the border troops."

Li Guanyi said: "What about Yan Daiqing's parents?"

General Yue Qianfeng sighed: "... They were taken too, but we found a letter left by Yan Daiqing's brother's father inside the house. We haven't read it yet—we'll bring it back for Yan Daiqing's brother to see."

Li Guanyi's brow furrowed tightly, and finally he slowly exhaled a breath, saying:

"Let's go, let's go take a look at the situation first..."

Li Guanyi personally entered the inner city. Looking around, the once-luxurious mansions had all become a scene of utter ruin—beneath the fierce flames, those fine fragrant woods had turned pitch-black, silks and satins lay fallen on the ground.

In the inner treasury, brocade and embroidery turned to ash; the bones of dukes and ministers tumbled into ditches and gullies.

Great ruin, great desolation, a fierce and murderous aura rushed to meet him.

Even Qin Wang, looking upon this scene, felt a stirring in his heart.

"The inner treasury burned to brocade-ash, Tianjie trampled to the bone of dukes and ministers..."

"When I said such a line in my youth, I never could have imagined."

"That in the end, the one who truly accomplished all this—"

"Was Chen Dingye."

Qin Wang walked into the imperial palace and saw Empress Xue in a daze, her spirit lost. When Empress Xue saw Qin Wang, her expression was somewhat complicated; in her heart she was actually a little afraid—regardless of anything, her child carried the bloodline of the Chen kingdom Emperor.

He was counted as the Crown Prince of the Chen kingdom, and the Qin Wang before her was precisely the Qin Wang who had nearly destroyed the Chen kingdom as a nation. Between the two of them, there was almost an inherent conflict, an adversarial stance.

She drew a deep breath and was about to bow, but was supported up by Qin Wang.

Qin Wang's voice was warm and calm: "It's only been seven years since we last met, Aunt Xue—why so formal?"

Empress Xue raised her head, looking at Qin Wang.

Yet she seemed to see again that clever, spirited youth from seven years ago. Her expression complicated, she sighed and said: "Guanyi, this child is a person of bitter fate... Chen Dingye erased his memories."

Li Guanyi stroked Chen Tianyi's hair and said: "The Young Lady is still in Yicheng. Aunt Xue, it's been so long since you went back, hasn't it? Xue Lao misses you terribly. After all these years in this palace, you can go home now."

Empress Xue was in a daze for a long while, and a look of feeling as if a lifetime had passed appeared on her face:

"Home...?"

"Mm."

Qin Wang nodded. He soothed and settled Empress Xue and the others, then walked slowly into the palace of Chen kingdom. Within the palace, there was no one around—quiet, desolate, hollow and deep. Qin Wang paced up the Bai Yu steps, and behind him on both sides, the generals accompanied him.

In the end, Qin Wang saw the deathly appearances of those high ministers, and paid them no heed.

General Yue Qianfeng, Duan Qingyu, and the rest all stood behind, not daring to step forward, merely watching as that young sovereign paced through this most august place of Chen kingdom, this highest hall of Chen kingdom's authority, watching the civil and military sleeves of Qin Wang sway.

Qin Wang walked to the very top, raised his palm, and pressed it upon the dragon throne beside him.

His sleeves rolled and fluttered.

Duan Qingyu instinctively held his breath, instinctively lowered his head, and General Yue Qianfeng too felt a daze—finally sensing, upon that back before him, that kind of bearing that opens heaven and earth, opens a nation: the dignity and bearing of a sovereign.

Li Guanyi turned sideways and suddenly said: "This thing—is it pure gold?"

"It must be worth quite a lot of money, right? Bring it back and have Yan Daiqing sell it—would he be a little happier?"

"It could plug up the logistics shortfall."

Duan Qingyu: "..."

General Yue Qianfeng: "..."

The generals fell silent, then tightly held their faces, their shoulders shaking violently, tears nearly bursting out. They nearly went through the most miserable things of their entire lives in their minds. Qin Wang's mouth twitched, and he said helplessly: "Forget it."

"If you want to laugh, then laugh—don't hurt yourselves holding it in."

The generals could no longer hold back and burst into great laughter—joyful, hearty laughter that rose to the skies. Li Guanyi sat casually on the dragon throne, one leg crossed over the other, palm propping up his chin, smiling as he watched them and the world, the mood relaxed and easy.

Whether it was taking the Ducheng of Chen kingdom, or entering the imperial palace of Chen kingdom.

Regardless of how this era would call Chen Dingye's actions a relocation of the capital.

Or to abandon the city.

Li Guanyi felt that, in truth, there was no real difference.

If one had to say it, there was indeed one.

Starting from today.

The world was vast, the lords of all the nations, whether friend or foe, none of them would address him as 【Your Highness】 anymore.

All would use Your Majesty, honoring him with the title.

?? Begging for monthly tickets, friends~

? Damn it, sleep schedule, sleep schedule!