Chapter 550: Attack and Defense Swap Forms

“Woof woof woof! Whine—woof!”

The barking echoed.

It was late autumn, harvest season; the fields glowed golden. Zhou Laosan whistled, and the little yellow dog he’d picked up long ago had grown large and sturdy, its mouth clutching a plump field mouse as it sprinted back and dropped the rodent at Zhou Laosan’s feet.

Then it lay there, tail whipping into a blur, barked once like offering a treasure. Zhou Laosan laughed, rubbing its head. “You, you dog, catching mice.”

Da Huang didn’t understand what Zhou Laosan meant; it leapt up, paws resting on Zhou Laosan’s arms, barking wildly, licking him furiously. Zhou Laosan laughed, then cursed: “Damn!”

“That stink—you’ve been eating shit again?!”

Enraged, Zhou Laosan leaned on his iron blade and chased after Da Huang. The sword, once used by his comrade, its hilt carved with a dog’s head, was no longer for killing men—only for cutting grass, cutting wheat.

Since returning from the battlefield, Da Huang had become his loyal partner.

When Zhou Laosan returned with Da Huang, he saw several boys, twelve or thirteen years old, huddled along the field ridges, digging things out—they’d found a field mouse den. With two years of bountiful harvests, these dens held plenty of treasures.

Several plump field mice scurried in frantic circles around them.

Da Huang barked powerfully and charged to “play” with the mice.

Zhou Laosan, having just washed his face, let his old companion play. Suddenly, one mouse darted away—swift, agile, evading Da Huang—only to be caught by a twelve-year-old boy who sprinted forward and snatched it in one motion.

No matter how hard the mouse struggled, it couldn’t escape the boy’s grip.

Zhou Laosan couldn’t help exclaiming: “Excellent palm technique! Excellent lightness skill!”

The boy smiled shyly; his friend boasted: “He’s among the top five in lightness skills at our public academy! His Sky-Touching Palm is already mastered—even the masters can’t beat him!”

Zhou Laosan nodded with a smile, feeling a touch of nostalgia and envy.

The last soldier of the Chongzhen Division under General Gui, serving under the Tianhe Third Year’s Gui Regiment, had long since sheathed his blade and returned to farming—his small life was rich in flavor, yet watching these young boys stirred quiet envy within him.

In their day, they’d never had such systematic training.

Nor such resources.

That single step just now—rumored to be the elite lightness technique “Wind-Chasing” from the Chen imperial arms repository—and that Sky-Touching Palm power, once the core art of the Sky-Touching Sect, the greatest northern school of Chen.

Now it was all broken down, taught systematically to every child: after three to five years of foundational conditioning, once their qi and physical strength reached a certain level, they could choose any one martial art from a wide array to study.

This was the strategy of a certain Yan Daqing…

Hmm? Or was it Western Yan Daqing? Or Southwest Yan Daqing?

Zhou Laosan rubbed his chin, momentarily unsure which Yan Daqing this was.

Though the world was vast, and different people in different places sharing the same name was common, this Yan Daqing seemed too numerous.

But regardless—it was some Yan Daqing’s plan.

He directly systematized martial arts stronger than most sects and taught them to everyone, shattering one of the two pillars sustaining martial sects: people joined sects either to learn cultivation or for protection.

Now, martial arts stronger than most sects’ were systematically taught.

Alongside the renowned Hou family’s pills.

The sects had lost all their appeal.

As a result, major sects were dwindling, their ranks emptying; they grew quiet, their foundations gutted, and martial crimes against the state had dropped drastically.

Now, even the best disciples from martial sects couldn’t match Qin boys who’d undergone seven years of systematic training, equipped with elite lightness skills, elite internal arts, one potent external art, one weapon, one unarmed style, and deep knowledge of Hou’s pharmacology.

They could fight, run, and were skilled in poison and basic medicine.

Thus, martial sects gradually declined.

While the human world flourished.

It was the second year of Emperor Qin’s reign, autumn; over a year had passed since the last great war. Chen’s territory was now under control, and its rich central lands finally revealed their true depth.

Everywhere, harvests abounded; under Emperor Qin’s rule, peace prevailed.

Zhou Laosan gripped his blade, staring at the ugly but polished dog-head carving on its hilt, thinking of his fallen comrades, murmuring: “Too bad you couldn’t see this day.”

“How wonderful it would be.”

His eyes grew slightly damp, but he brushed it off, shouting loudly:

“Forget it!”

“You had no luck! Only I get to see it!”

“Hahahaha! Serve you right for being jealous—I’m the one who didn’t die!”

The children stared curiously at this middle-aged man muttering to himself—or perhaps to someone else. Da Huang lay on the ground, tail wagging, eyes bright as he watched the few mice huddled together, trembling.

The second year of Emperor Qin was also the second year of Ying Daye.

Compared to Qin’s prosperity, Ying also showed stability and growth.

After ascending the throne, Emperor Jiang Yuan, with the aid of his ministers, worked tirelessly, lightened taxes and labor, restoring Ying’s strength. In the final years of Jiang Wanxiang’s reign, he crushed many aristocratic clans, purifying governance.

With this foundation, and with veteran ministers like Wei Yi still alive, state affairs remained stable. The court gradually earned praise for sage rule—but Jiang Yuan was not happy.

A sharp whistle pierced the air. Jiang Yuan casually shot arrows on the imperial training ground, flanked by bowing ministers and eunuchs who, seeing each shot hit the target, loudly praised: “Excellent! Brilliant archery!”

“Your Majesty’s valor is unmatched!”

“Your Majesty’s divine might!”

Amid the flattery, Jiang Yuan tossed down his bow, drank, then sighed deeply: “A monarch’s dignity is thus—thrilling, yet never truly free.”

Minister of Light and Honor Guo Yanjun, sensing his meaning, feigned astonishment:

“The world is vast, and the emperor’s power is supreme! How could Your Majesty be restrained in this great Ying state?!”

“Who dares?!”

“Audacious beyond measure!”

Jiang Yuan smiled but said nothing. After a long silence, he finally sighed:

“I’ve ruled for a year now. My actions have all conformed to the sages’ teachings. Few ancient enlightened monarchs surpass me. Yet the Grand Tutor still lingers in the capital, and Wei Yi behaves as if the late emperor still lives.”

“Both rely only on their age—they cannot bear to see me shine!”

“Frustrating! Frustrating!”

Who?

Grand Tutor Jiang Su?

Guo Yanjun gasped but dared not reply.

Grand Tutor Jiang Su was unquestionably the pillar holding up the entire Ying state—the white jade column, the purple gold beam. But for Jiang Yuan, since ascending the throne, he’d been confined within the court, unable to leave, his heart heavy with frustration.

To be emperor, yet bound by such mundane affairs.

Daily, he reviewed memorials, studied files, discussed state matters with ministers.

What meaning did this imperial position hold?!

His chest grew tighter, his mood darker.

Only with men like Guo Yanjun to amuse him could he barely ease his resentment. That day, Grand Tutor Jiang Su arrived again. Jiang Yuan put on his diligent demeanor. Jiang Su, clad in a black robe and great cloak, stood tall, white hair solemn, a head taller than Jiang Yuan.

The emperor, in his dragon robe, reached only to Jiang Su’s shoulders.

Though he was the sovereign, before Jiang Su, he felt crushed beneath him—this displeased him deeply, yet he dared not show it.

Every movement, every gesture, followed ritual perfectly.

Jiang Su saw through Jiang Yuan’s pretense but didn’t care. After brief small talk, he cut straight to the point: “Your Majesty, a year of rest and recovery has restored the state’s strength. The nation rests on our shoulders. I shall soon depart to subdue the rebels.”

Jiang Yuan’s heart leapt, but his face showed concern: “Grand Tutor, I’ve only ruled a year. Though diligent and aided by loyal ministers, the realm has stabilized somewhat, yet we fought a great war just a year ago. To restart war now—is it wise?”

Jiang Su looked at Jiang Yuan.

Jiang Yuan, feigning humility, felt his heart freeze.

Gazing at the towering old man, he felt as if facing mountains, as if confronting heaven and earth—all things. The old man’s body seemed to swell impossibly large, his gaze cold as a god’s, looking down upon him.

Jiang Yuan’s body stiffened.

His mind went blank. He felt that even his imperial throne could be erased with a single gesture from this towering, solemn elder—a nameless terror gripped his heart.

Time passed—perhaps a moment, perhaps an eternity.

Jiang Su withdrew his gaze: “Li Guanyi’s martial prowess is unmatched. He is eight years younger than you, yet already swallows the cosmos. Even the former Red Emperor, the conqueror, cannot compare.”

“And at his age, he has barely reached the limit of a martial artist.”

“Wait a few more years. When Li Guanyi grows stronger still, when his army becomes mighty and well-equipped, I will no longer be his match. Then, Your Majesty—will you bind your own hands and surrender your city?”

Jiang Yuan forced a smile: “Grand Tutor, you jest.”

Jiang Su said: “I never joke.”

He turned away: “Your Majesty remain in the capital to manage affairs. Wei Yi and others are loyal old ministers—listen well to their counsel.” Jiang Su departed, radiating icy resolve.

Jiang Wanxiang’s death, the toll of two great wars, the new emperor’s ascension—despite Ying’s deep foundations, it took over a year to recover.

After healing his wounds, Jiang Su hesitated not at all—he prepared to raise his blade and march against the Qin King. He knew his time was short; heavenly lifespan and the tide of the age chased him like unstoppable beasts.

The God of War knew his days were numbered, his peak fading. His divine spear, long silent, had grown dull. He must ride forward while he still could, shattering enemy armies.

Even as his strength waned, he must hold up half the world.

Yet when he sought Gao Xiang, Gao Xiang refused to join Ying outright. The Ying emperor himself went to invite Gao Xiang, offering gold, beauties, high rank, and wealth—but Gao Xiang rejected them all.

Gold, beauties, Jiang Yuan’s summons.

“...Such a man does not deserve to sit there.”

“Did Jiang Wanxiang go blind to choose such a man?”

The Divine General’s words were cold, unmistakable—he held Jiang Yuan in utter contempt. He turned his steed, gripping his divine bow: “If this is the case, then Ying’s fate ends here. I have no interest serving under a worthless fool.”

Jiang Yuan could suppress his anger.

But after returning to the palace, he loathed it deeply—his fury burned fiercely.

Jiang Su knew he must reach the battlefield quickly, seize the initiative—he could not let Li Guanyi’s side continue resting. Indeed, though no major battles had occurred this past year, skirmishes along the border never ceased.

And when Jiang Su had finished resolving domestic matters and prepared to march his army out—

Frontline intelligence arrived—

The Emperor of Qin personally led 200,000 troops to violate the border!

Jiang Su’s expression was cold and hard.

This change was within his expectations, but he had not anticipated it would come so swiftly—Qin Wang was no longer the boy he once was; after Jiang Wanshang’s death and Qin Wang’s occupation of Chen Guo’s former territories, the balance of national power had already shifted.

Qin Wang had quietly surpassed Ying Guo’s strength.

What is called “swallowing mountains and seas” amounts to no more than this.

Jiang Su knew that, according to military doctrine, he absolutely must not follow the Emperor of Qin’s rhythm—he must break free from Qin’s strategic influence and strike where the enemy must defend, only then could he reverse the situation.

But the current situation was this:

Across the vast world, no one but Jiang Su could halt the Emperor of Qin’s advance.

Once Jiang Su moved to any other direction,

Qin Wang would swiftly breach the passes and invade the interior.

Reenacting the strategy of the Wolf King Chen Chengbi, Jiang Su, the Divine General, was forced to lead 200,000 troops to intercept Li Guanyi’s advance; due to the Emperor of Qin’s resolve, both sides clashed within Ying Guo’s borders in a mid-scale conflict.

The armies faced off, and the Emperor of Qin did not retreat.

But Jiang Su could not swiftly defeat Li Guanyi either.

Meanwhile, another force openly mobilized—Yue Pengwu led his army northward and had reached Zhenbeixiongcheng, stationing troops with a sharp, looming blade pointed from the north toward Da Ying Guo.

Up and down, it mirrored last year’s Ying Guo invasion of Qin.

Now turned against Ying Guo itself, it forced Ying Guo into unbearable discomfort; knowing Yue Pengwu was such a famed general, he need not even launch an attack—merely forming his ranks here, poised but unmoving, was enough to force Ying Guo into constant vigilance.

Jiang Yuan was delighted and ordered the Divine Might Grand General Yu Wenlie to the northern front to guard against Yue Pengwu.

Yu Wenlie looked at the imperial decree and sneered, claiming illness and refusing to go.

He turned to his attendants, Yu Wenti and Yu Hua, and said: “If I leave, Zhao Wang will be in danger.” The former Crown Prince Jiang Gao, now titled Zhao Wang, was merely a powerless nobleman, confined to the capital to write essays.

Jiang Yuan repeatedly urged him, but Yu Wenlie always claimed illness and refused.

Jiang Yuan was deeply displeased and considered sending He Ruo Qinhu to the front, yet remembered how his father had been struck by the Wolf King—he still wished to keep a fierce general near him for protection. But Qin Yulong was Xue Peijun’s son-in-law.

He also suspected Qin Yulong might defect to Ying Guo, so he dared not send him out; after much deliberation, and upon He Ruo Qinhu’s guarantee, he finally ordered Qin Yulong to lead troops out—but kept his wife and children hostage in the imperial city.

He said: “General, go fight for your country and family!”

His face remained calm and composed, still the image of a wise and virtuous sovereign.

Qin Yulong, having traveled the martial world, knew he could not refuse for the sake of state and family; he visited Yu Wenlie to entrust his family’s safety. Yu Wenlie spoke briefly: “When His Majesty passed, he said General Qin was a loyal and worthy minister of the state.”

“Do not worry—your wife and children are under my protection.”

“Absolutely no cause for concern.”

Qin Yulong bowed again in thanks, then led his troops northward, forming ranks opposite Yue Pengwu—the two armies faced each other, their energies clashing, yet no actual battle erupted, only a tense stalemate.

……………………

Li Guanyi bit into a fruit.

The Qilin crouched on his shoulder, its mouth stuffed with three fruits; on the camp table lay a large military map, and Li Guanyi, one hand holding a brush, calmly marked it with a series of strokes.

They were crosses.

Beside him, the white-haired girl stared expressionlessly, tiptoeing to look.

The Emperor of Qin lazily rested his elbow on top of her head.

He pressed her tiptoes down.

The silver-haired girl raised her toes again.

Li Guanyi pressed them down once more.

The silver-haired girl gently shook her head, showing slight displeasure—but did not shake off his arm.

If some silver-haired man still laboring with the Old Fatekeeper to reinforce city defenses were to see this, he’d likely burst into tears and howl to the heavens.

Precisely because of Yaoguang’s miraculous arts, Li Guanyi had led his band of brothers in playing hide-and-seek with the Divine General Jiang Su along Ying Guo’s border.

The current army standoff was deep within Ying Guo’s territory, yet close to the Jiangnan region; rear support was ready, and retreat could be swift. After a year of rest and recuperation, Chen Guo’s territories and assets had finally been largely absorbed.

To detail all the events involved would require immense effort, countless scrolls, and volumes of records.

But in short—

The Emperor of Qin.

Has money again!

While harvesting grain, Li Guanyi assessed the situation and launched a preemptive strike against Ying Guo, using Yue Pengwu as the spearhead to remotely tie down Ying Guo’s forces and prevent Jiang Su from surrounding them.

He had tinkered with Jiang Wanshang’s tactics and turned them against Ying Guo.

When Li Guanyi led his troops into Ying Guo,

The opposing army was first struck with terror.

They could not possibly be a match for Qin Wang.

When they first saw twenty thousand enemy troops, they had already stopped smiling; when they saw the leader of those twenty thousand—a young man in black heavy armor, wearing a crimson qilin-cloud-patterned military robe, gripping a battle halberd, his temples white—

The entire garrison commander’s skull went numb.

He retreated faster than he had marched out, slamming the city gates shut!

Cast in bronze and iron.

Sealed shut!

Facing the Emperor of Qin, the undisputed greatest divine general in the world—among the greatest.

What other choice was there?

Over these years, they had studied countless tactics and finally discovered the optimal response for ordinary generals in such a situation: immediately follow the strategy of the late Chen general Lu Youxian—stack armor, fortify walls.

There was nothing left but to defend the city!

Then they watched the Emperor of Qin smile.

Then he reached behind his back, snapped his fingers, and pulled out a gleaming—

Scythe.

The Ying Guo garrison commander stared, dumbfounded, as the Emperor of Qin personally led his band of Qilin troops to cut down all the surrounding farmland; the Qilin Army’s tradition forbade harming civilians, but they had cleanly and efficiently reaped the wheat planted in the city’s military fields.

Like a bunch of beggars reborn.

Then a man named Fan Qing emerged and began speaking to the people about things they couldn’t understand.

The garrison commander sent men to investigate.

Brilliant.

Fifteen men went out; three returned.

Fan Qing’s message was simple.

Centered on three points.

【Distribute land】. 【Distribute land】. And again, 【Distribute land】.

The garrison commander flew into a rage: “With the Emperor of Qin’s majesty and the Qilin Army’s might, you come here to steal our wheat fields and sow chaos among the people! How dare you!”

“Attendants! Bring me my weapon!”

The captains brought him a large axe; the general strode out.

He climbed the city wall, gazing far off—saw the Emperor of Qin himself speaking, and realized his own gaze must have been too glaring; the young man looked up, smirking.

He even waved cheerfully.

The general fell silent.

He turned, walked back, and saw his captains gaping in shock; he roared:

“That’s the Emperor of Qin! Why don’t you go fight them?”

He hurled his weapon down, raised his hand, and shouted: “Bring me the falcon! I’ll send a message to the capital—tell Divine General Jiang Su to come! Together with the Grand Tutor, we’ll strike from both sides and crush them!”

The falcon flew out.

Then the Grassland Auspice sliced off its head for a snack.

The Fire Qilin spat a blast of Qilin fire—seven-tenths cooked.

Perfect for the Auspices’ taste.

So when Jiang Su arrived, he saw only the harvested fields, bare as the general’s scalp, and the people now filled with certain ideas; his heart burned with suppressed fury, and he chased after them—only then did he clash with Li Guanyi.

Neither side could gain the upper hand; only the armies stood face to face.

Jiang Su could not help but think: these Qilin troops were eating Ying Guo’s grain.

A fire of righteous wrath burned in his heart.

………………

Po Jun flipped through the records and said: “Our provisions are sufficient—why attack in autumn, my lord? Are you trying to save grain?”

Li Guanyi’s face remained unchanged: “Impossible!”

“When I was young, I passed a vendor, and an old man surnamed Sun taught me military strategy. He said: ‘A wise general feeds on the enemy. One zhong of enemy grain equals twenty of ours; one shi of their straw equals twenty of ours.’”

“Everything we’ve done aligns perfectly with military doctrine.”

“How could it possibly be to save grain?!”

“Impossible. Absolutely impossible.”

“I am the Emperor of Qin!”

A cricket chirped beside him: “The poor Emperor of Qin.”

Po Jun’s lip twitched as he watched the Emperor of Qin reach out, grasp—his former Chen masterpiece, Zhouyou Six Power, erupted—and yanked out a beautiful woman, pinning her under his elbow, his fingers digging into her forehead, eliciting a pitiful squeal.

Li Guanyi’s face remained calm: “Nothing.”

“It’s just…”

"Until now, we have always been plagued by Jiang Su’s incursions. The world is vast—does our Tiance Prefecture truly allow them to come and go as they please?! Now, the tables have turned!"

Nan Gong Wu Meng retorted: "Then why don’t you attack?!"

Li Guanyi smiled and said: "Because we can’t win."

Nan Gong Wu Meng stared blankly: "Huh?"

Li Guanyi said: "Three hundred years of imperial rule, plus Jiang Wanxiang’s decades of painstaking effort—Ying Guo’s foundations are too deep, too thick. If we engage in a bloody war of attrition, there is only one outcome: we and Ying Guo will both bleed ourselves dry."

"The world will be reduced to wasteland."

"Better to wait for it to make a mistake itself."

Nan Gong Wu Meng frowned: "Make a mistake itself?"

Li Guanyi said: "Yes. Three hundred years of imperial rule, just like Chen Guo in its day—even a giant in its death throes does not die quickly. From outside, you cannot kill it all at once. Only from within can it wither away."

"For example, the noble clans—for example…"

Po Jun whispered: "Jiang Yuan."

In the Ying Guo imperial palace, the Emperor sat upon his throne.

Jiang Su marched out to war, Qin Yulong headed north, and Yu Wenlie feigned illness.

Thus, the Ying Emperor shifted his body slightly.

He felt no more restraints.

He could now act without hesitation!

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