Chapter 545: Seeking Peace Under Heaven

Several days had already passed.

In the lands of Jiangnan, some impatient voices rose.

"How is it going??"

"Sigh!"

"Sigh what sigh, just say it already!" Lei Laomeng's tone grew somewhat impatient. He gripped the old, frail sorcerer's arm, squeezing unconsciously in his anxiety, but fortunately this fellow's Wu Gong was truly ordinary, so the old sorcerer wasn't offended.

He looked outside, a dark mass of people waiting.

Most were military Captains who had followed Qin Wang into battle everywhere.

The old sorcerer could completely understand Lei Laomeng and the others' feelings.

The great emperor of the State of Ying mustered his final courage and boldness, seeking to drag the Fire Qilin army into a vortex. Li Guanyi personally held the defense of Zhenbei Pass. What a fierce, bitter battle it was. Though this battle ended in ultimate victory, it was truly the most perilous one the Fire Qilin army had faced since their uprising began.

They had nearly lost the Jiangnan rear.

If not for that 'mysterious divine general' rallying the army's morale, if not for Yue Pengwu's return at the critical moment, even if Jiangnan here had been held, the cost would have been terribly heavy.

At that time, with the State of Ying killing with a borrowed knife from both sides, Tiance Prefecture would have suffered greatly.

However, Yue Pengwu had returned.

That meant outside Zhenbei Pass, only Li Guanyi himself stood facing Jiang Su.

The northern battlefield briefly came to a close. After Qin Wang returned, he met with Murong Qiushui, learned that Jiangnan here was truly safe, then went out again to rally the army's morale, held a grand feast to celebrate victory, but after it ended, he collapsed and slept deeply for several days.

Because the matter was of great importance, this news was sealed off.

But those who knew the news were all in a panic.

Lei Laomeng dragged in the seven Qi Laogui of the Fire Qilin army, but these men of humble origins had very niche medical skills, excelling in a certain level of cultivation's medical arts that could be widely applied. Regarding Li Guanyi's condition, it couldn't be said they didn't know—it could only be said they were completely in the dark.

So they hurriedly 'invited' that rare, reclusive old sorcerer over.

The old sorcerer looked at the burly men and strategists outside, rubbing their hands as they stared at him, and was helpless. Likely half the realm's heroes, champions, famous ministers, and fierce generals were gathered here.

These people's names, if listed out, could fill half a history book.

Yet now each and every one of them was on tenterhooks.

If the old sorcerer said jumping into the sea would wake Qin Wang, these people would probably line up to jump without hesitation.

Especially that one fearless fellow who had gone straight after the veteran Ying general He Ruo Qinhu, serving as the main force holding off General Yue Qianfeng, had his arm broken off, was bound up there, with a big circle of white cloth wrapped around his head, looking far worse off than Qin Wang.

Still squeezing in here, pushing forward.

Yue Qianfeng was then in grief, for the death of his teaching master, he fought with rage burning his blood, but on the opposite side, He Ruo Qinhu was in a similar state of mind—

The great emperor he had followed since his own early teens, that figure, was right behind.

How could he afford to lose?

How could he retreat!

This battle raged with tremendous fury. When Yue Qianfeng was dragged back, he was already unconscious, but He Ruo Qinhu, under the siege of four famous generals, still spat fresh blood. At that time Yue Qianfeng only laughed loudly several times, then fell backward.

The generals were greatly alarmed, thinking this finest fierce and brave divine general of the Fire Qilin army had died in glorious combat, but they heard on the battlefield a chorus of snoring rise. The crowd was astonished, and saw this great general lying in a pool of blood on the battlefield, already exhausted into unconsciousness.

What great spirit, what tremendous courage.

Yet also utterly lacking in refinement.

The old sorcerer tried to comfort them for a while, but these people's voices were simply too loud.

In the end the old sorcerer got annoyed, drove them all out of the courtyard. These famous generals clutching things like apples were extremely embarrassed. The old sorcerer said: "His Highness Qin Wang needs quiet rest. You lot crowding in here, the air is stifling, all of you, out."

Yue Qianfeng rejoiced: "Does that mean Your Majesty is alright?!"

The old sorcerer rebuked:

"His Highness Qin Wang is twenty-two years old, a martial legend, his lifespan is very long. What could possibly be wrong? It's you lot—if you don't take care of yourselves, it won't be long before you can't go to the battlefield anymore, and can only be carried on stretchers."

He drove the crowd out, but Lei Laomeng stayed behind. Speaking of it, Yue Pengwu was able to return so quickly because of that auspicious divine eagle from the grasslands; it was Lei Laomeng who had successfully gotten this fellow willing to put in the work.

The all-capable Lei Laomeng once again earned merit in battle.

Also steady and mature by nature, after closing the door, he helped out as an assistant, and said quietly: "Old man, if Your Majesty truly had no problem, how could he still not have woken up by now?"

The old sorcerer said: "A martial legend, his skill bordering on creation. Your Majesty reached this realm at the age of twenty. Even though his prolonged battle with Jiang Su cost some of his lifespan and vitality, it cannot be said to have damaged his foundation."

"He only needs quiet rest, to draw in the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, and he will eventually, bit by bit, replenish it. The greater matter is the wound in his heart."

Lei Laomeng opened his mouth, unable to speak.

The old sorcerer looked at the closed door, and sighed.

In the few lines of the historical records, only Qin Wang's great victory will be written, saying he was decisive and calm, deploying his forces. But no one will know that on that most dangerous day, ahead was the army god Jiang Su with five hundred thousand troops, behind was Beicheng.

Knowing that the Master Jiankuang had met with trouble, Jiang Wanxiang had Break Through the Realm, Jiangnan in danger, Li Guanyi could only entrust his last reserves out.

He didn't know if he could win, didn't know if he would die. Ahead was the strongest enemy, behind was danger. Even the most resolute person would feel sorrow and fear, but at that time, he simply pulled the Annihilation Divine Spear out from his shoulder.

Breathing the air thick with the baleful aura of blades and swords, feeling the stabbing pain of his heart and wound together, then, standing on the battlefield, he gripped his weapon tighter, and roared forward, letting his chest sting, letting his eyes redden.

He could only fight with all his might.

At that time, even grief was a luxury for Qin Wang. As the ancients said, there is no greater sorrow than a dead heart, and death itself comes second. Qin Wang gripped his weapon defending the nation's gate, and upon returning, lifted the troops' morale, and in the end arranged everything.

Only then did he have the right to grieve.

Bearing the great vow of peace under heaven.

Even grief should not be shown on the outside.

The Human Sovereign has no joy, no tears.

Rather than the wounds on his body, it was the exhaustion in his heart that let him fall into deep slumber. At least in dreams, he could have a little time to rest. Only Lei Laomeng had never lived the kind of life the old sorcerer had, and did not know the pain of a dead heart.

He had only heard the mention of lifespan's impact, and was already deeply worried, saying:

"Lifespan?!"

"Was the Elixir of Immortality useless?"

The old sorcerer said: "If it were useful, how would my worthless grand-disciple have died? It only makes one's vitality abundant. Even the Fire Qilin Divine Dragon has its day of turning. How could there be anything under heaven that is eternal and indestructible?"

Lei Laomeng's voice paused for a moment, then he said, "Th-then, replenishing vitality, how much use would it be? Can your old man refine it?"

The old alchemist said irritably, "In a situation like this, even if we dug Hou Zhongyu out it wouldn't help."

Lei Laomeng could only sigh in vexation.

Just as he was worrying endlessly, he suddenly heard a sound from inside the room, and then the door was pushed open. Murong Qiushui stumbled out and said, "Guanyi, Guanyi's awake!"

The old alchemist's eyes lit up instantly, and he turned and rushed in like the wind.

Realizing he had lost his composure, he tidied his appearance, then performed a salute before stepping inside. He indeed saw Li Guanyi sitting propped up on the bed. This twenty-two-year-old famed general of the realm had a composed bearing and a youthful appearance, but his temples were white as frost—rather striking.

After examining him, the old alchemist said, "Your Majesty, do you feel any discomfort?"

Li Guanyi replied, "It's just that on the battlefield I exhausted too much spirit and strength. After finally returning to Jiangnan and settling my heart, I just collapsed at once. I'm sorry to trouble you, old sir."

The old alchemist studied Li Guanyi closely, did not say much, only said:

"Your Majesty's recovery is a good thing. During this period, everyone has been quite worried. It's just that on the battlefield, the baleful aura was too overwhelming. Fighting with blade and spear like that consumes tremendous strength and blood qi—the toll is enormous."

Li Guanyi said, "I understand. Rest assured, old sir, I will take care of my body."

The old alchemist sighed, nodded, and turned to leave.

Suddenly he felt a bit helpless.

He had seen too much. These people always say they will take care of their bodies, yet every time they charge at the very front. On the battlefield, after years of fighting, how many faces laughed and said they'd be back next time—yet never returned?

These people are bold and brave, and they value their promises most.

Yet they also value them least.

What can one do about it.

After Li Guanyi woke up, he propped himself up, and naturally saw the many generals and friends. He had already broken through that barrier, achieving the realm of martial legend. Martial legend—rather than a kind of amplification of power, it is better described as a realm and a kind of mastery.

At this moment his essence, qi, and spirit were whole, yet for some reason, he felt weary at heart.

The generals, seeing Li Guanyi unharmed, were naturally reassured, all greatly at ease. Li Guanyi still had them bring over all the current intelligence dossiers, and he sat on the windowsill, flipping through them scroll by scroll, while asking the generals for specifics.

Though they worried about his health, they also knew that with such upheaval in the realm, they reported everything in detail.

The balance that had been maintained for so long, that false veneer of peace, was over. Even though the great battle had ended, the border passes of Qin and Ying remained at swords' point. The border armies were constantly on combat readiness, commerce between the two sides had stalled, and had shifted to internal circulation.

The lands where the two sides bordered were precisely Beicheng and the cities that General Yuwen and the others had previously attacked. Between them lay many towering mountains and ridges—not so easy to cross. After this battle, both Beicheng and Yu'an City needed further strengthening of their defenses.

This required a great deal of gold, silver, and manpower.

At the same time, casualties from this battle were not low, requiring pensions and recuperation.

And the territory of Chen that had just been taken, as well as the various factions on the Turkic grasslands, also needed further control…

A great battle represents contradictions accumulating to a limit, then erupting in the most violent and direct manner. But after the great battle, victory or defeat is not the end—there are still many matters that follow needing to be handled, requiring expenditure of heart and spirit to do.

Li Guanyi pulled Master Yan Daiqing, Mr. Posun, and others into discussions for several days, arranging all the various post-war matters of Tiance Prefecture, confirming the general direction and framework, before he could finally breathe a little easier.

The group exchanged glances, then rose and departed. Li Guanyi accompanied his aunt on a stroll. When he stepped out, he saw that the entire Jiangnan provincial city was still as prosperous as ever. He had been in Jiangnan for seven or eight years now, and this city was the first place their ideals had covered.

It was where the flame first ignited, so the changes here were especially tremendous. Li Guanyi moved through the bustling mortal world, yet felt a kind of dazed, lost-for-words sensation. Clearly a great victory, clearly seeing such a prosperous human world, yet he was absent-minded.

Murong Qiushui wanted to cheer him up, forced a smile, pointed into the distance, and said, "Little cat, look…"

She turned her head, then froze.

Jiangnan's mortal world was prosperous, the worldly bustle lively. The young man wore a blue patterned overcoat, sleeves rolled up, standing there, white hair falling at his temples, yet the whole person carried a tremendous sense of alienation and loneliness.

"Aunt."

Li Guanyi gripped Murong Qiushui's arm. He looked at Murong Qiushui, and in the end did not mention the passing of the great-grandfather, did not mention anything else. He only said softly:

"Don't leave…"

Murong Qiushui nodded.

Li Guanyi felt himself very despicable.

He was using his aunt's grief, using his aunt's feelings, to bind his aunt, then using such a 'despicable' method to let his aunt emerge from grief. Yet he still did it—gentle and despicable.

In this vast world, his blood relatives now numbered only his aunt.

The officials of Tiance Prefecture were handling the busy matters of this period, and there were also officials who recorded history, who wrote all these things down. Sa Atandi, as one of them, helped those elders gather materials and record these events.

Whether it was the fall of the Red Emperor, or the passing of Jiang Wanxiang.

Or Prince Ji Yanzhong leaping off the cliff with Princess Changle, the great battles on two fronts.

All were the most tumultuous events of this era, all sufficient to leave a bold, heavy stroke upon the annals of history. Within these matters, there were selections and anthologies of various folk affairs, recording the death of the Master Jiankuang Murong Longtu.

This was not to cater to the emperor's tastes, not to please the emperor by placing his relatives into the biographies—only that swordsman was truly a figure beyond this world, who to a certain extent changed the era with a single sword.

If not for Master Jiankuang Murong Longtu's sword, which caused Jiang Wanxiang's fortune to collapse.

Even if Yue Pengwu had returned to Jiangnan, it would have been a battle to the death.

One sword severing fortune, defeating an emperor—such elegance in the world's martial world had reached its utmost.

The annals recording Qin Wang would not be shown to him, but other portions would be submitted. Yet such writings were not lacking in praise, and Qin Wang suddenly flew into a great rage. This was the only time Sa Atandi had ever seen Tenger in such a state, and the only time Qin Wang lost his composure on the bluestone.

Even facing desperate straits yet still smiling, the Qin Wang whose renown spread throughout the four directions—Tenger—pointed at the historical record and said:

"What do you mean, Murong Longtu is dead?!"

The Shi Guan was perplexed, only answering, "Master Jiankuang Murong Longtu severed fortune and departed, never to be seen again, his aura dispersed. In the end he died for the realm. A mere swordsman who could die for the realm—is that not magnificent?"

This was a very standard tone of a scholar.

Crash!

Qin Wang seized that scroll and hurled it over, startling the Shi Guan into a leap, his face going white. But even at this moment, that scroll was not thrown at his forehead or such places, only striking his body. Qin Wang went quiet, then suddenly roared:

"He is not dead!"

"He is not!"

"You never saw his body, nor did you see his final sword—how can you say he is dead?"

"Magnificent? Magnificent what?!"

The civil official's face was deathly pale, not knowing why Qin Wang was so furious. They trembled slightly from such astonishment and fear. Sa Atandi, however, raised her head. The girl's eyes were calm, watching the enraged Qin Wang, puzzled yet silent within.

Why was this hero of the world, in his fury, so sorrowful, so desolate?

Qin Wang raged, ordering all the officials and renowned scholars to withdraw; their hearts were all trembling with fear. He was already the overlord who had carved out the realm and claimed half the world, galloping through the annals and legends like a divine dragon of the chaotic age.

In truth, even in a world this vast, there was no one with the courage to face Qin Wang's wrath head-on, nor were there many who could truly stand beside him and tell him the truth.

Qin Wang drove everyone away.

Alone, he muttered a curse: "Shi Guan scholars, they know nothing of soldiers and horses, nothing of the world!"

Until at last, a palm settled on the young sovereign's shoulder.

Li Guanyi's voice caught.

Old Master Siming looked at him, his voice gentle and calm:

"Murong Longtu is dead."

"Little fellow…"

Li Guanyi instinctively retorted: "He can't be…"

Old Master Siming's voice rose, as if to shatter something:

"He is dead!"

The furious Qin Wang, the Fire Qilin's snarling form, faltered, then seemed to lose all strength, sagging. He staggered back, sat down in his seat, stared at the first draft of the annals, lowered his head, and spoke no more.

Old Master Siming's eyes held sorrow and pity.

The Qilin of the chaotic age, at this moment, was like an abandoned kitten.

Qin Wang kept his head bowed, still murmuring softly: "Great-grandfather's sword Dao reached the divine; he took the Life-Continuing Gu; his Wu Gong had already transcended the mundane; he can't be dead, he just… left."

"Besides, there's still the Taigu Chilong. Didn't Zhang Ziyong's Wu Gong begin from the Ancient Taigu Chilong? So, great-grandfather, he…"

This was said to Old Master Siming, or perhaps to himself.

Old Master Siming said: "Even the sun must set."

Qin Wang sat there alone.

The hero who had set out to conquer the world now seemed like a child.

Old Master Siming sighed. Even he, long accustomed to such things, felt a measure of sorrow at this sight. He left quietly, closed the door, and let Qin Wang face it all alone.

Qin Wang sat in silence through the night. When moonlight and starlight spilled down, memories came vividly alive.

These civil officials and Shi Guan went to pay respects to the Mr. s who might be able to counsel Qin Wang at this time. Master Wen Qingyu, after deliberation, chose to step back; only Master Yan Daiqing was surprised, but said that Qin Wang held no grudge against the men, only the matter, and would not take it out on them.

He soothed the crowd thoroughly, and promised to lead them back the next day to apologize.

But the next day, when the Shi Guan, led by Pojun Yan Daiqing, came again to pay respects to Qin Wang, they saw him sitting alone, cradling his sword, eyes quietly closed in sleep. On the desk, the annals lay sharp as a blade—the original record had been erased.

Only a new ending remained: 【Sword-Madman Murong Longtu, with one sword shattered eight hundred years of Qi, forgot the sword and entered the Dao, rode a dragon and ascended, no longer seen in the mortal world】—Yan Daiqing gazed at this record the sovereign had insisted on altering.

He watched him hold the sword with closed eyes, white hair falling at his temples, his brow seemingly furrowed.

Perhaps, the hero who lifted his sword and trampled the world to pieces, the sovereign who opened an era and a peaceful future, the figure everyone longed to follow—in his heart, was still that child of long ago.

He was only trying with all his might to grasp at something.

He and his aunt had fled for their lives across the realm; having finally broken free, facing the dangers of the jianghu, he instinctively gripped his sword and halberd. Then an old man came carrying a sword, saying "I'm here for everything," and stood before him, shielding him from the wind and rain ahead.

He refused to accept great-grandfather's passing. Rather, stubbornly, absurdly, with a sovereign's dignity, with an overlord's royal authority, with bold spirit and a gaze that looked down on all, he left this childish stroke upon the world and the annals.

And this sovereign's loss of composure ultimately became, together with 【Sword-Madman Murong Longtu, entered the Dao through the sword, legend of the jianghu, at last ascended riding a dragon】, passed down in the annals.

………………

When the great army of Ying withdrew, General Yuwen, He Ruo Qinhu, and Qin Yulong led the troops. Their hearts remained steadfast, but the entire army was mired in the twin, complex emotions of a sovereign lost and a great battle lost—utterly low in spirits.

Among them, He Ruo Qinhu, Qin Yulong, and others strove to rally and lift morale.

But the impact of such a tremendous blow on morale could no longer be lifted by simple encouragement. Just as spirits had sunk low as if the heavens themselves were crashing down, the vanguard suddenly halted.

The season had already drifted deep into autumn; the world was vast and bleak.

A dragon-steed, an old man; a black cloak hung down, solemn as towering mountains. He carried the divine spear Jiemie that had pierced the Qilin of the chaotic age—august, cold, stern, and yet utterly trustworthy, utterly mighty.

That low morale was broken; the sorrow shrouding the whole army was torn apart anew. Jiang Su came galloping; he ignored General Yuwen, He Ruo Qinhu, and Qin Yulong, simply dismounted, carried the divine spear Jiemie, and walked step by step through the host.

He walked to the sovereign's coffin.

The divine spear Jiemie planted in the ground, War God Jiang Su half-knelt, raised his broad palm, and laid it on the coffin, his voice low:

"Your Majesty… I have come."

The three armies grieved.

Heaven and earth were bleak. When the Ying Emperor returned, all of Ying was dressed in white mourning; Jiang Gao and Jiang Yuan wore mourning. On the great avenues of Ying's Ducheng leading to the imperial palace, common folk had spontaneously donned hemp mourning clothes; paper money fluttered in the air, bleak as Bai Xue blanketing the earth.

War God Jiang Su bore the coffin and supported the spirit.

In a daze, it was as if in that long-ago heavy snowfall, when Jiang Wanxiang had grown old, he had carried Jiang Wanxiang on his back through the imperial palace, and Jiang Wanxiang had said, "From now on, I'll leave it to you… I'm still going to die…"

War God Jiang Su was silent, as if still bearing Jiang Wanxiang on his back, bearing this great Ying nation, stepping forward step by step. Just as in those days when the young Jiang Wanxiang had exhausted himself practicing martial arts, he had carried the exhausted, sleeping youth through the mortal world of hearth and home.

"No matter what, we will shatter the Qilin."

In the Jiangnan wind, Qin Wang brushed past his wooden sword, his resolve unchanged.

"We have already walked a thousand li, ten thousand li through the mortal world; we must be victorious."

Paper money fluttered like Bai Xue; the War God still stubbornly upheld this great Ying realm. The Jiangnan wind blew as of old; Qin Wang remained, as in his youth, the same temperament.

At this one south, one north—at the two ends of the world.

In the annals, in this year, having lost so much, the War God and Qin Wang only murmured softly:

"We surely will…"

"See peace under heaven."

When one speaks of the world's heroes, it is nothing more than a heart of iron.

Unwilling to turn back.

?? Happy New Year to everyone~

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