Chapter 70: Breakthrough!

A gentle woman's voice came, laughing:

"It's rare to see you, Second Brother, so spirited."

The girl with dragon-and-phoenix bearing raised her eyebrows and smiled: "Of course, because I've encountered a genius of the world—just like seeing a rare flower, one naturally wants to bring it under one's wing and into one's possession. Come to think of it, it was your second brother who found this person for me out in the world."

"Taking you from Big Brother's hands and bringing you into my mansion back then was truly the right thing to do!"

The woman grinding ink blushed slightly and whispered: "Second Young Lady, stop talking nonsense."

The girl smiled sweetly and said: "Regardless, I've been posing as a boy outside, and I need you to help me conceal it. Let's not dwell on this—Wugou, keep grinding the ink. I'll go find Big Brother and Father. The world is changing; such a perfect opportunity cannot be missed."

She straightened her robes, wearing a white round-collar robe with golden thread embroidered in large peony patterns; a master craftsman had woven a golden crown, her phoenix eyes gleamed, a crimson vertical mark adorned her brow, and as she walked, her upper body stood upright, her right hand resting on her sword hilt—her spirit radiant and soaring.

Her father and eldest brother were discussing urgent matters.

After the girl entered and voiced her suggestion—sending a fierce general with a small elite cavalry unit into battle—she was interrupted. The current Duke of Longxi frowned slightly and sighed: "Family and state affairs—don't play childish games."

The girl paused, stepped forward half a pace, and pointed her finger at the map:

"Tuyuhun has taken advantage of the Southern Court's defensive shifts and marched southward. The Western Regions are vast, yet lack sufficient fertile land; their terrain is complex, and they lack adequate depth to withstand the northern Turkic heavy cavalry."

"Whether for self-preservation or to build strength, they will surely swallow this region of Chen. Now, the Yan state and the Turks face off in the north, and the Tanguts lie dormant. For them, even with risk, they will not let go of this fat prey. Father, the opportunity is right before us."

The duke rebuked: "Absurd! Do you think we, who manage state affairs, are as ignorant as a child?"

"In the past, you dressed as a boy, rode horses, flew hawks, traded across nations—even kept the Changsun family's daughter in your household. I let you do all that. My daughter need not be timid like others, embroidering and playing the qin. But how dare you become so arrogant? At your age, barely ten, you meddle in state affairs?"

The elegant young man beside him chuckled:

"Second Brother, do you even understand military strategy and grand strategy at your age?"

"Here, Big Brother brought back some fine things from Jingcheng—carved from ivory, quite exquisite. Take them."

The Li family of the Duke's mansion bore the surname Ji, granted by imperial decree.

Her eldest brother's proper name was Ji Jianwen, also called Li Jianwen.

Now, teasing his sister, he shoved the trinket into her hands and said: "Besides, boys are marriageable at fifteen, girls at thirteen. You should be painting and playing the qin. Grand strategy? Big Brother and Third Brother can assist Father."

The girl looked at her father, earnestly:

"Just eight hundred cavalry, Father. If successful, the benefit will be great—why not try?"

The duke frowned, hesitation stirring in his heart.

Li Jianwen said: "At a time like this, launching troops rashly—where would we get such forces?"

"And who could bear such responsibility?"

The duke exhaled, his cautious nature prevailing. After long hesitation, he chose prudence, swept his sleeve, and rebuked: "Childish talk. State affairs demand caution—no rash moves. Second Brother, say no more."

The girl bowed her hands and left.

Li Jianwen watched his sister depart, seeing her peerless bearing, her gaze radiant with grace. For some reason, a faint thread of jealousy rose in him—as if, whenever they stood together, his own brilliance was always stolen by her.

The girl returned to her chamber, thought for a moment, then began donning armor.

Beside her, the ink-grinding Changsun Wugou asked in confusion:

"Second Brother, weren't you refused?"

The Li family's Second Young Lady raised her eyebrows:

"So what? They refuse—I'll go anyway."

Changsun Wugou was baffled: "But aren't they denying you a commander to execute the plan?"

"A divine general?"

The girl with the crimson vertical mark on her brow and phoenix eyes raised her eyebrows slightly:

"I am the divine general!"

The phoenix, just past her fourteenth birthday, clad in black armor, gripped a long spear: "Xiao Wuliang marched at thirteen—am I less than him? I too am born with a divine form, already at the Third Layer Realm. In this world, I am fit to be a general."

"If Father and Big Brother ask, say I was restless and took a group out hunting."

When this news reached the duke, he was startled.

Asked how many men she took, the minister replied: three hundred.

The duke relaxed, sighed, and smiled at his eldest son: "Jianwen, your second sister has a fiery temper—she's furious. But three hundred men? What can they accomplish?"

"Let her go."

At this moment, the duke deeply cherished and cared for his children, and warned:

"Remember, don't go too far."

"Stay safe."

The Phoenix of the Duke's mansion agreed. She galloped out—but no one knew she would never return, not even at dusk.

A youth daring to lead troops into battle at fourteen—a rarity in history.

Yet for the Second Brother of the Longxi Li family, it was only natural.

Night fell; stars rose into the sky.

Tuyuhun's front had reached the Southern Court's border, their weapons sharpened and horses fed for years, waiting for this moment.

Yet no one expected that, at this very moment, the Seven Princes of the Turks had silently appeared upwind of Tuyuhun. The western wind swept down; the Breaker, leaning on his battle halberd, grinned toward the Western Regions, while behind him, the Iron Tie Futu, hailed as the King of Heavy Cavalry, raised his lance.

An old guide, riding a gaunt horse, trembled in the night wind and leaned close to the Breaker.

The Turks' territory was highland, but the border with Tuyuhun was treacherous.

Yet this Breaker had stolen the holy halberd from the Tangut sacred mountain, fled across the Western Regions, and reached the Turkic steppes—he knew this path, and now, this path would become the cause of the Western Regions' doom.

Mounted on strange beasts, both rider and steed clad in heavy armor, each knight was a warrior of the Second Layer Realm.

They were the steppe's centurions.

Elite, heavily armored, riding strange warhorses.

Ultimately forming a steel beast weighing ten thousand jin, charging in battle formation, the ten-thousand-jin monsters surged forward at incredible speed, their hooves shaking the earth, capable of smashing through city gates—unquestionably the King of Heavy Cavalry that had ravaged battlefields for three centuries.

Until twenty-two years ago, when the old Chen general, General Zhou, shattered the heavy cavalry with his hook-sickle spear, defeated the Turks, and briefly tarnished the King of Heavy Cavalry—proving to the Central Plains the blood and ferocity of their own people, forcing the Turks to retreat.

Then that great general returned from Jiangnan Circuit to Jingcheng, peerless in elegance, but alas, fifteen years ago, when Prince Puyang rose in rebellion, this guardian general had already died early from an old injury triggered by slaying the then-commander of Tie Futu.

Otherwise, had this fierce tiger who had roared across battlefields for decades still lived, Chen would never have had a regent prince—alas, history is merciless; great generals and beauties rarely meet a good end. Po Jun licked his tongue, gazing at the distant Western Regions.

The wind today carried the scent of blood.

He raised his battle halberd, upon which hung a banner—not bearing any name or pattern, but only the stars of heaven, as if mirroring the White Tiger Seven Mansions now rising in the west. This was a banner passed down through generations, even ranked alongside the banners of the Seven Kings.

Po Jun grinned, his hand gripping his chest, tapping lightly.

Behind him rose the White Tiger Seven Mansions into the sky.

He thought.

My lord, this is my first battle to make your name known.

The old guide, shaken by this martial aura, said: "You carry another man's banner—aren't you afraid the Turkic Seven Kings won't let you return?"

Po Jun looked at him.

The old man hesitated, then lowered his voice: "The Turks are greedy; the more heroic a man, the more they wish to keep everything for themselves. If you display strategy but fail to conquer the Western Regions, he'll kill you. But if you succeed, he'll surely lure you with Jin Yu and beauties."

"If you still intend to leave, he'll kill you anyway and boil you in a cauldron."

"Even if he burns you alive, he won't let you return to the Central Plains."

Po Jun looked at the guide and smiled.

"It doesn't matter—I have my own way to make him send me back peacefully."

"If I can't even do that, I don't deserve the name Po Jun."

"When night falls, we descend to kill—no supplies. We'll live off the Tuyuhun's cattle and sheep, plundering their lands…"

He said: "I'm not skilled at close combat. It's too inefficient."

"The battlefield—that is my true home. Let heroes kill heroes, let champions slay champions. The flames of chaos will naturally forge the greatest hero capable of subduing the world. Only then can true peace arise."

"The ideals of Yao Guang are too naive. Peace in this world can only be forged in blades and spears. Before that, we are all but blood-stained tyrants."

Tie Futu moved. These killing machines charged toward the Tuyuhun tribes. Heavy iron spears, wrapped in inner Qi, tore through walls and wooden stakes, piercing and flinging back all who resisted. The scent of blood grew thick. The old man trembled, watching the handsome strategist inhale deeply, his face rapt with ecstasy.

Then he suddenly shouted.

The calm, brilliant strategist seized a nearby long spear.

And joined the battlefield.

The old guide stared, dumbfounded, urging his horse: "Y-you—you said you weren't skilled at close combat!"

Po Jun answered: "I'm not skilled."

"But I love it."

"Which strategist doesn't want to join his own plan? How can I let those warriors steal all the glory? Not being skilled at close combat and not liking it—those are two entirely different things. Hahaha!"

He laughed, solemn amid the battle lines:

"Lord of Xichen, Master of Arms."

"Endless sky, the Emperor's Origin."

Then, with his long spear, he pierced a resisting Tuyuhun warrior. His eyes blazed with fiery red light—like the madman beside a tyrant who burns the world, handing him torch and oil.

While the Emperor of the Southern Realm held a beauty's slender waist and listened to court musicians play, the Phoenix of Longxi spread its wings. The Tuyuhun, having sharpened their blades for eight years, descended upon the Southern Realm. The Tanguts suppressed their blood feuds. The banner of Bai Hu Da Zong, absent for five hundred years, rose once more beneath the stars.

The iron hooves of Tie Futu shattered the dreams of the Western Regions' overlord.

The great tide of the world shattered that quiet night in the Southern Court, amid the whispered cries of the Emperor of Chen's beauty. The gentle, beautiful music of the Southern Court and the fierce wind of Longxi converged upon this world.

That night, Li Guanyi suddenly opened his eyes.

Above, the White Tiger Seven Mansions blazed brightly.

The White Tiger's divine form manifested spontaneously, roaring toward the sky as if answering something. This time, even without Yao Guang's words, Li Guanyi saw the Fourth Star of the Western Palace glow intensely—the White Tiger's divine form could no longer contain its ferocity. It raised its head and roared; starlight fell, then flowed back into Li Guanyi's body.

Hot as fire.

"Is this… what Yao Guang meant?"

"Could that Second Young Master of the Duke's mansion really have acted?"

"He chose my strategy, and now my fate is entangled with his—so the celestial signs changed, as if heaven itself recognized me as the mastermind behind it all?"

"Western chaos, White Tiger overseeing warfare?"

"Have I become the mastermind?"

Li Guanyi realized.

His meridians' inner Qi began to surge, naturally refining itself according to the Jade Arm Divine Bow Scripture and the Tiger Roar Bone Forging Scripture—the shifting tides of the world alter celestial signs, producing omens; the White Tiger Seven Mansions' celestial pattern is deeply tied to the White Tiger's divine form, naturally returning starlight to refine the body.

Never before had Bai Hu Da Zong, so young and at such a low realm, shifted the great tide of the world.

The feedback level meant nothing to past Bai Hu Da Zong.

But for Li Guanyi, it was overwhelming.

He felt his inner Qi raging wildly, flowing at breakneck speed—on the verge of breaking through.

Yet the White Tiger's divine form's eyes burned crimson, lost in dreams of slaughter and war. To break through now would bring side effects. Li Guanyi clenched his right hand; the Crimson Dragon divine form roared, restraining the White Tiger. The Black Tortoise rested slowly atop the White Tiger's form.

He prevented the surge from exploding.

But this was only a temporary block—forcing it down like this would make the eventual explosion even greater.

Under such a powerful premonition of breakthrough.

Li Guanyi's first reaction was not to seek Xue Lao.

Instead, he mounted a horse and left the Xue family directly. Dusk had fallen; the gates of Yicheng were closed—but the side gate remained open. The guard was about to shout at Li Guanyi, but recognized the rhinoceros-horn belt only worn by officers from Sixth to Third Rank. He shuddered, dared not stop him.

He even opened the side gate and let the boy ride out of the city.

His meridians ached and swelled; the White Tiger's roar raged fiercely, for the chaos in the Western Regions was too strong and Li Guanyi's realm too low. The boy was affected—he seemed to hear the shriek of swords and spears, saw visions of slaughter and battle. Before his consciousness sank fully into this dream of killing, he used his last shred of reason to rush into Yao Guang's presence.

The girl knelt before a campfire.

A steamed bun pierced on a stick.

She tried to imitate Li Guanyi's method, with honey, milk, and toasted buns dipped in honey beside her; her expression was blank, but her eyes held anticipation, both hands cradling the bun as she opened her mouth small to take a bite.

The sound of hooves erupted!

Li Guanyi burst in.

"Yao Guang!!!"

The wind stirred, lifting the campfire's flames and the girl's hairtips; she looked up at the bright stars of the Bai Hu Seven Mansions. Bai Hu Da Zong rode in on horseback, before him the campfire and stream, above him the brilliant stars; the youth reined his horse, his brows alight.

The girl bit into the bun.

Crackle.

Then she knelt before the campfire, both hands cradling the toasted bun, calm and expressionless as she stared at Li Guanyi.

Li Guanyi's taut nerves relaxed, and suddenly he laughed aloud.

The youth dismounted.

He sat cross-legged before the campfire like a general, reached out, and yanked the toasted bun from the girl's mouth.

He tugged twice before pulling it free.

Then, hands resting on his knees, he said:

"Yao Guang!"

"I'm about to break through, so I came to find you."