Chapter 67: The Phoenix

In this library, over three hundred cultivation texts of the Entry Level glowed with radiant light, as if their spiritual essence responded in harmony, clustering around Li Guanyi. Xue Daoyong’s lips curled into a grin, barely holding back a laugh as he slapped the shoulder of the old servant beside him: “Hahahaha! I won!”

The old servant said: “You guessed ten, and still got it wrong.”

Xue Daoyong burst into laughter: “Closer than yours!”

He stepped forward and called out: “Guanyi, the first technique must be the most compatible—don’t be greedy. Take it step by step.”

Li Guanyi replied: “Yes.”

But there were too many techniques here; each one spread its spiritual aura and radiance like a peacock displaying its feathers, striving to capture the boy’s attention. Confucian, Mohist, Daoist, Yin-Yangist—techniques from every school were present.

Opening each cover, every text detailed countless variations and methods, all seemingly powerful.

The techniques placed here by Xue Daoyong could never be ordinary ones circulating in the martial world.

Common fare had no right to enter this place.

Yet this made selection extremely difficult. Li Guanyi naturally understood that greed leads to indigestion, so he sifted through them, seeking the few books whose inner resonance emitted the clearest, most pure “string music.”

The Jade Arm Divine Bow Art

The Canglang March

Thunderfire Forging the Golden Body

Just as he was about to search more carefully, an anomaly occurred. Accompanied by a ripple of spiritual radiance, the Black Tortoise Manifestation—once sealed on the bronze tripod and motionless ever since—slightly trembled. The ink-black tortoise, still tiny, perched on Li Guanyi’s shoulder, its carapace marked with golden patterns.

These patterns resembled the cracks on turtle shells burned by diviners, each tracing a unique path.

Li Guanyi suddenly understood the guidance encoded in the shell’s markings.

Advantage lies to the west.

Li Guanyi released the Jade Arm Divine Bow Art from his hand and followed the tortoise’s direction to a spot. There, within the Xue family pavilion, stood an ancestral altar bearing the name of the Ancestor Xue Shen. Before it rested a massive, ancient incense burner.

Li Guanyi glanced at the place, then at the tortoise.

His lips twitched.

No… it couldn’t be…

The tortoise had leapt from his shoulder and now lay motionless atop the incense burner.

With the satisfied air of one who had finally found something precious.

The tortoise was not a combat manifestation—it was for divination, omens, fortune-seeking, and avoiding misfortune.

Li Guanyi pondered, then flipped the incense burner before Xue Shen’s altar. He rubbed it, and the heavy bronze vessel clicked open. Inside, he retrieved a slender copper scroll. On it, one line of text caught his eye.

【Disrespectful to Ancestors’ Art】!

It seemed furious.

Turned over, two characters appeared.

【Great Goodness】!

Li Guanyi smirked. Of course, just like you.

Xue Shen’s view of the world’s greatest technique differed entirely from that of his descendants—free-spirited, casual, unrestrained. Li Guanyi flipped through the copper plate hidden in the burner. It recorded a technique: The Tiger Roar Forging the Bones Art—a martial art to aid cultivation after Entry Level.

It could not match the Jade Arm Divine Bow Art’s overwhelming burst power.

Nor could it rival the Canglang March’s supreme agility and endless internal qi flow.

This technique had only one trait.

【Enhances the martial artist’s bone structure by one tier, purifies latent injuries, removes latent poisons】.

【Final stage requires assistance from the Star Observing School of Donglu. Without this opportunity, set this down】.

Concerning Yaoguang…

Li Guanyi realized this might be one of the General’s gifts prepared for turbulent times. A wise general leaves multiple escape routes. He did not know how many legacies Xue Shen had left behind.

He stared at the line about removing latent poison and pressed his chest.

The tortoise’s guidance had never been wrong.

This was the technique most suited to him.

But since it involved Yaoguang, Li Guanyi merely recorded the technique, returned the copper plate to its place, and chose the Jade Arm Divine Bow Art—the Xue family’s ancestral martial art, which at Entry Level refined the arms and surpassed all others during Body Casting.

When internal qi flowed, a lingering force remained in the arms.

After each great cycle, it could accumulate one explosive attack beyond the limit.

Perfectly aligned with the Xue family’s martial philosophy: immense burst power, weak recovery speed—seeking short, violent strikes. Once an enemy closed in, wielding heavy weapons, its power remained devastating. Xue Daoyong was extremely pleased with his choice and laughed loudly:

“Good. With the Xue family’s physique, Entry Level is sufficient.”

“The power is strong enough, but the only weakness is recovery speed.”

“That part was left by our ancestor in the Spear-axe Section.”

“His spear-axe techniques flowed endlessly—not merely overpowering with raw force. Combined, the upper and lower sections form a divine art unmatched in burst power and rapid recovery, rivaling even the Ten Greatest Arts of the Central Plains.”

He knew his family’s martial art was powerful, yet clearly flawed—excellent, but not legendary. That was why the court felt secure: “Still, though its recovery is slow, most opponents cannot withstand the burst of the Divine Bow Art.”

“Hold the divine bow, keep distance—the enemy won’t live long enough for you to need recovery.”

“If an opponent survives the Xue family’s Divine Bow burst, even recovery would be futile.”

“Your fortune is good, Guanyi.”

“Perhaps one day, as you travel the world, you’ll complete this art.”

The old man comforted Li Guanyi, but didn’t truly believe his own words.

Li Guanyi held the Divine Bow Art. Xue Changqing and Lady Xue Shuangtao of the Xue family had both trained in its Entry Level portion. Xue Daoyong personally taught Li Guanyi this internal art. His bone structure was merely hindered by poison—his comprehension had not diminished, and he possessed the pinnacle of martial inheritance.

In a few days, he mastered the Divine Bow Art.

His entire internal qi, once the Break Formation Melody, had fully transformed into the Divine Bow Art. The Tiger Roar Forging the Bones Art was also slowly cultivated. Li Guanyi felt his internal qi circulation gradually accelerating—from three cycles per incense stick to four.

Recently, he could not find Master Siming.

Master Wang Tong had also not appeared.

Li Guanyi guessed that the master of the Calculus Scripture had arrived here. Yue Qianfeng’s first step was complete. Master Wang Tong, Master Siming, and the Mohist Grand Master were likely contacting key figures in Jiangzhou and the capital, attempting the final step to enter the court’s sphere.

The struggle among factions may have already reached its peak in secret, and Yue Qianfeng had not returned.

But this had nothing to do with Li Guanyi. Spring deepened, flowers bloomed, willow branches drooped, and many men and women strolled to enjoy the shade. His birthday drew near. Li Guanyi practiced archery daily, breathed in and out, trained with the spear-axe—and his days were full and simple.

Changsun Wuchou, however, encountered something.

Later, the Golden Feather Hawk delivered a letter—but unlike before, it was not one letter.

It was two.

One was addressed directly to Li Guanyi.

Changsun Wuchou stared at the letter meant for him: the Second Miss had instructed him to pass the other letter to Li Guanyi. He was astonished. Though the Second Miss had once asked him to watch for extraordinary talents, she had never written to him directly.

After some thought, he invited Li Guanyi under the pretense of tea and storytelling, handed him the letter, and said: “It’s from the Second Young Master of my merchant guild. He heard your poetry and took great interest, so he wrote to you personally.”

Merchant guild’s Second Young Master?

Was he the Second Prince of the Duke Prefecture beyond the Longxi Pass in Ying Guo?

Or merely a merchant’s son?

Changsun Wuchou sipped tea, listened to the singer, and smiled like a fox.

Li Guanyi opened the letter. After simple greetings, it praised his deeds, expressed admiration for his previous letter, noted his views on the Western Regions, and asked: What are his thoughts on the world?

Li Guanyi glanced at the bold, swirling script, then looked up at Changsun Wuchou.

He looked again at the letter, where “the world” was mentioned as casually as one might mention a jade tablet on the table.

Changsun Wuchou smiled: “What’s wrong?”

Li Guanyi chose his words carefully: “It’s bold. We’ve never met, yet he writes to me about such things…”

Changsun Wuchou said: “Because the Second Young Master truly believes you have talent.”

“I’m a merchant. When I see rare goods, I pay a high price.”

“If convenient, reply. If not, decline politely.”

The Second Prince of the Ying Guo Duke Prefecture.

He was an absolute noble of Ying Guo, now the most powerful state in the world, controlling the Central Plains and vast territories. After leaving Chen Guo with his aunt, Li Guanyi would go to Ying Guo. Cultivating favor with its top nobility was no bad thing.

Rather, Li Guanyi hoped for a better life ahead.

How should one of his age, such stature, answer such a man?

He could reply without giving away any vulnerability.

Li Guanyi ground ink, then had an idea. He picked up his brush and wrote one line on white paper. Changsun Wuchou watched from the private chamber as the boy’s strokes settled like mountain stones—calm, unhurried.

【The world’s tide unites after long division, divides after long unity】.

Li Guanyi set down his brush.

He folded the letter, handed it to Changsun Wuchou, and said no more.

Changsun Wuchou’s eyelid twitched. He sighed inwardly.

He knew that, given the Second Miss’s stature, these twelve characters carried more weight than a hundred exquisite poems—more likely to capture her attention.

Are heroes of the world already this young?

Indeed, the Golden Feather Hawk returned the next day.

This hawk was larger than ordinary ones, its wings full, golden feathers streaked with crimson. It was the finest among hawks—or rather, no longer a hawk at all, but a golden-winged Peng bird.

A mythical beast capable of flying ten thousand li in a day, its talons like forged metal, capable of crushing a horse’s skull as easily as crushing tofu. It could soar over deserts, snatch armored warriors, and hurl them against cliffs to their deaths. The Turkic Khan offered ten thousand taels of gold and a hundred thousand cattle and sheep—and still could not reclaim it.

Using a Golden Wing Peng to deliver a letter was extravagant, proving how deeply the Second Miss valued this exchange.

Changsun Wuchou sighed.

He felt reduced to a mere messenger between them. This talented merchant had no choice but to linger at the Xue residence, pretending he had nowhere else to go. This time, the letter given to Li Guanyi contained direct discourse from the Second Young Master.

Not arguments, but discussions of historical heroes and battle formations.

Li Guanyi raised an eyebrow.

Why do I still need tutoring after leaving General Xue Shen?

Yet the views of that boy ten thousand miles away were piercing, brimming with sharpness that even startled Li Guanyi; through this exchange, what General Xue Shen had taught became ever clearer to Li Guanyi, even sparking his own insights.

Another day, a letter arrived. Li Guanyi set down his battle halberd and read its contents.

“Chen Guo’s military edge is restrained, besieging Yue Qianfeng. Tuyuhun stirs, advancing south to invade Chen’s flat interior plains, aiming to turn its granaries into pastures. The Tanguts, blood-feuding with Tuyuhun, are nearly at their limit. Following your strategy, what should we do now?”

As Changsun Wuchou read the letter, his pupils contracted.

This exchange was no longer hypothetical.

This is the Western Regions—right now!

Far beyond Guanyi City, where people had begun to enjoy the cool evening breeze, Tuyuhun’s army, sharpened and ready, marched south to invade Chen Guo’s fertile lowlands, turning its granaries into grazing lands. The Tanguts, fierce with blood vengeance, could barely contain themselves.

The famed generals of Ying Guo were holding the Turks in check.

Yet the Seven Kings of the Turks had suddenly left the center of the steppe, their whereabouts unknown.

The Central Plains basked in peace and song, but the Western Regions bristled with hidden blades.

In another letter to Changsun Wuchou, the Second Young Master had already written his own strategy, divided into superior and moderate plans, instructing Changsun Wuchou to observe what Li Guanyi would write. Changsun Wuchou looked at Li Guanyi and saw him grow still, then turn to face him and say:

“Has the Western Regions become this chaotic?”

Changsun Wuchou froze in shock.

He saw through it?!

He feared the boy before him was a servant of Chen Guo, loyal to Emperor Chen, and might angrily throw down his brush.

But he saw Li Guanyi pick up his brush and write.

“With this opportunity, we must act. The earlier plan—striking with elite forces to cut Tuyuhun’s line while it was entangled with Chen Guo and the Tanguts—was insufficient. If it were me…”

He paused. “Now, I would consider that the enemy also has famed generals.”

“They would guard their supply lines and prevent their army from being split in two.”

“A general would lead troops to protect their battle formation.”

“Instead, feign a frontal assault to harass their guards, while secretly, a top general leads eight hundred light cavalry—not to attack the main force, but to take hidden paths straight into Tuyuhun’s royal tent. Their heart lies in southern invasion; they fear their army breaking or mutinying. If they have ambition, strike the royal tent directly!”

Changsun Wuchou’s taut nerves relaxed.

This was the Second Young Master’s superior strategy—dangerous, yet as bold and brilliant as she.

Then he saw Li Guanyi did not stop, continuing to write—his words differed from those of the fourteen-year-old Second Young Master.

“Then execute their nobles, but do not seize their land.”

“Take all their cattle, horses, grain, silver, iron, and people, and return.”

“Publicly declare defeat.”

“Do not claim their territory; do not seek glory.”

“Stockpile grain; delay proclaiming power. The world’s tide is already in ruin. Wait for change. This is how to take…”

Li Guanyi halted his brush, set it down, and pointed to the earlier strategy. “The final line—this is my superior plan.”

Changsun Wuchou was frozen, staring at the words “stockpile grain, delay proclaiming power, wait for change,” as if witnessing the heavens churn with storms. Cold sweat dripped from his brow. He lifted his head, gazing at the thirteen-year-old boy—and in that moment, behind the boy, he seemed to see the shadow of a terrifying military strategist.

Changsun Wuchou had frozen in place, his eyes locked on the record of “hoard grain, delay proclaiming a title, wait for change,” as if he saw the whole realm rising in turmoil; cold sweat dripped from his brow, then he lifted his head and stared at the thirteen-year-old boy, Huanghu as if behind the boy stood a terrifying military strategist.

This was no mere battlefield stratagem—it was a plan to conquer a nation!

Had he ever seen such a strategy before?

No. There had never been such a military history in this world. Then… was it himself?

Changsun Wuchou clasped the letter in both hands, as if bearing a weighty burden, and said:

“Thank you. I humbly accept your teaching.”

Li Guanyi exhaled. His past knowledge granted him a natural strategic vision in certain circumstances. Under the sun, there is nothing new—and perhaps this would aid him in leaving Chen Guo.

The boy before him merely wished to forge a good bond with his aunt.

That night, the golden-winged roc spread its wings and departed. Above the heavens,

as Li Guanyi trained with his halberd under cover of darkness, he suddenly sensed a shift in energy. He looked up and saw the Seven Stars of Bai Hu glowing faintly brighter than before. His Bai Hu manifestation appeared instantly, head raised, gazing at the silent sky.

Something indescribable seemed to descend from the night sky, absorbed by the Bai Hu.

Something indescribable and elusive seemed to descend from the night sky, absorbed by the White Tiger.

Li Guanyi suddenly sensed another presence. His gaze sharpened, and he spun, halberd raised—

Li Guanyi suddenly sensed a presence; his gaze sharpened, and he turned, raising his battle halberd toward—

[148] Li Guanyi widened his eyes and saw a head emerge from the high wall like a radish popping up, wearing a hood, silver strands at his temples fluttering slightly as he tilted his head.

Another head emerged from the wall.

Si Ming?

No!

Li Guanyi’s eyes widened. He saw a head rising from the high wall like a radish—wearing a hood, silver strands at the temples fluttering slightly, head tilted.

Li Guanyi widened his eyes and saw a head emerge from the high wall like a radish popping up, wearing a hood, silver strands at his temples lifting slightly, as he tilted his head.

“Me.”

I.