Wei Yuan's divine sense was unprecedentedly formidable, sweeping across the entire expanse of Qingming in an instant and taking everything into his heart. For divine sense to cover ten thousand li was already the standard of a True Immortal. Although Wei Yuan had attained this level only briefly through the blessing of Qingming's mortal karmic luck, it was still a rarity throughout history.
Within Qingming, nearly half of the populace had stepped forward, standing beneath heaven and earth to become part of Wei Yuan's radiance. Of the tens of millions capable of bearing the enlightenment message, fully ninety percent had stepped forward.
Yet around ten percent feared the gathered immortals, hiding in their homes and trembling as they awaited the final outcome. A small faction had flickering gazes and surging ambitions, preparing to make a move the moment Wei Yuan fell—at the very least, they intended to be the first to welcome the immortals' arrival.
As for those whose bodies were frail and who had not received the message distributed by the Flourishing of the Many Realms, most were bewildered at first, waiting until someone nearby who had received the message explained the circumstances before making their choice.
Yet having heard it secondhand, many struggled to grasp what it meant. They could only look around in confusion, waiting to see what the majority around them chose before following suit.
Wei Yuan came to a realization: *So this is what mortals are.*
They possessed courage and wisdom, but also greed, hesitation, clumsiness, and even malice. Many would be stirred by righteous passion and choose the greater good. Others would act opportunistically, returning kindness with enmity, or even stabbing someone in the back at a critical moment.
Looking down upon the lands of Qingming, Wei Yuan smiled faintly.
Mortals were never perfect, yet Wei Yuan loved them all the same. As for the reason, the hundreds of millions of radiant motes drifting around him now were reason enough.
With a shift of Wei Yuan's thought, myriads of radiant motes converged at his fingertip, and he thrust a finger toward Xu Shuhe!
The radiance did not condense into a single entity like an ordinary immortal art to become an indestructible beam of immortal light. Instead, every mote remained an independent spark; yet as countless sparks surged in the same direction, they formed a vast, roaring river.
In the single instant of a mortal's eye, an immortal could accomplish countless things.
Xu Shuhe's aged face instantly drained of color. His eyes went wide, and his voice trembled: "How could your counterattack come so swiftly? This... this isn't right!"
Yet the surging river of light was already upon him. He had no choice but to raise a somewhat turbid barrier of light, resisting with all his might. However, the river was immense, and in an instant, the protective barrier was brought to the brink of collapse.
Xu Shuhe was both alarmed and furious. Accustomed to looking down from on high, let alone mere mortals, even dharma idols were mere ants in his eyes. Those of Scenery Command were marginally better, fit to serve as watchdogs.
Wei Yuan's finger strike was fundamentally an aggregation of the aspirations of hundreds of millions of mortals—and it had not even been refined or synthesized. Its grade could be said to be as low as could be. Yet the immortal light defense Xu Shuhe took such pride in had nearly shattered on contact! Did this not imply that he, a venerable immortal, was inferior to a mob of mortals?
Yet that was precisely the reality of the situation. The power of hundreds of millions of mortals' aspirations weighed down on Xu Shuhe so heavily that he could not even lift his head. Within a few breaths, he would suffer a humiliating defeat, leaving an infamous name for ten thousand years.
Xu Shuhe had no choice but to sacrifice a reasonably intact grotto-heaven, igniting it from the inside out to sustain his defensive immortal light. Yet the grotto-heaven burned rapidly and could not hold out for long, while Wei Yuan's river of radiance seemed boundless.
Xu Shuhe's expression twisted with venomous hatred. Could it be that a venerable immortal, even after burning through his accumulated foundation, still could not match mere mortals?
At that moment, high above in Immortal Heaven, the old monk showed surprise and looked toward Qingming. Master Gu's expression also changed, and he seemed about to move, but suddenly a piercing sword intent rose, faintly locking onto him.
Yanshi said calmly, "Why must Brother Gu be in such a hurry? Would it not be pleasant to stay and chat a while? What Master Bujue said just now was quite true: keeping the two of you here is well worth the cost."
The old monk glanced toward a certain patch of void, then said serenely, "It is merely worthwhile; it cannot change the overarching trend."
Yanshi replied, "A little gain here, another little gain there—who knows, perhaps the overarching trend will change after all."
"Then this old monk shall wait and see." The old monk slowly closed his eyes and entered meditation.
Master Gu, however, appeared restless. Frowning in deep thought, he muttered to himself, "This is wrong. How could he strike back so early? Does he still have another card to play?"
The moment the words left his mouth, he was startled into realization. Glaring at Yanshi, he said, "You set a trap for me?"
Yanshi said, "Even if you had not spoken them, I would have known. Saying them aloud is no great matter, so why care?"
Yanshi's words were true enough, but Master Gu's face darkened further. Just a moment ago, his Dao heart had wavered slightly, and Yanshi had seized the opportunity, subtly leading him to voice thoughts that should have remained hidden in his mind.
This was equivalent to a clash of methods across the void, and he had come out slightly inferior. Whether Master Gu himself was inferior to Yanshi, or the Sub-Sage's relic was inferior to the Taichu Patriarch's immortal sword, remained unclear. Either way, it was difficult to swallow.
In the small courtyard behind Yanshi, the immortal light grew increasingly pronounced. The Great Dao hummed continuously; the immortal ascension tribulation could arrive at any moment.
The old monk and Master Gu showed no expression, but subtle fluctuations of divine sense rippled through the void as they maintained a steady exchange. Afterward, Master Gu settled down, closing his eyes in spiritual wandering, and the situation returned to a stalemate.
While things remained motionless here, winds and clouds surged elsewhere.
In the four southern commanderies of the State of Ji, Li Zhi was inspecting a battalion of troops. Numbering over five thousand men, they were full of spirit, their armor and garments clean and bright. A wave of scorching vitality washed over him, making it clear they were well-fed and well on their way in Body Casting.
Li Zhi looked over the warriors one by one. From time to time, he inspected the weapons in their hands, their armor and inner garments. Occasionally he would crouch down to examine their boots, even having several soldiers take off their boots on the spot so he could inspect the lining and socks.
Only after inspecting more than three hundred men in this manner did Li Zhi nod in satisfaction. He said to the general beside him, "You've trained these soldiers well. Record a minor merit for the entire battalion."
The generals, who had been tense with apprehension, finally breathed a sigh of relief.
After capturing the four southern commanderies of the State of Ji, Li Zhi had not halted. He had taken one commandery to the left and one to the right, bringing his total to six. Only then did he pause his deep-strike offensive, turning to construct defensive lines, conscript recruits, and reorganize and expand his forces, maintaining a steady and methodical posture.
Li Zhi placed paramount importance on the army. In his spare time, he frequently conducted surprise inspections of military camps. Upon entering, he would assemble the entire force and scrutinize every weapon, piece of gear, uniform, and ration supply. Previously, during an inspection, he had discovered that a commanding officer had embezzled funds allocated for ammunition, leaving the battalion with less than thirty percent of its prescribed reserves.
Infuriated, Li Zhi had flown into a thunderous rage. Disregarding that the commander was his own cousin—the son of his closest maternal aunt—he had him beheaded on the spot.
Following the execution, Li Zhi's own maternal uncle, accompanied by several kin from his mother's clan, had come to demand accountability. Li Zhi had had the middle-aged and elderly profligates seized on charges of disrupting military morale, ordering a flogging of a hundred strokes each. They were beaten until their skin tore and flesh split, leaving them on the verge of death, without a shred of dignity spared.
From then on, all the generals trembled with fear, never daring to tamper with weaponry or supplies again. Those who had skimmed in the past scrambled to dip into their own pockets to make up the deficits.
Thus, in the years following his uprising, although Li Zhi had never quite finished "purging the king's inner circle," he had amassed three hundred thousand elite troops in the south of the State of Ji and drilled an additional seven hundred thousand recruits.
The pressure on southern Ji was mounting. Day and night, the three Great Generals—Annan, Dingnan, and Sinan—sent memorials to the King of Ji, demanding reinforcements to guard the pass garrisons.
Yet the King of Ji was also hard-pressed. In the north, the armies of Southern Qi pressed close against the border, constantly stirring up friction and conflicts. This forced nearly two million border troops of Ji to stay pinned down, unable to spare a single man.
The turmoil in the State of Ji had begun on the western frontier, after which Wei Yuan had seized two commanderies and established Yizhou. Consequently, the once-mighty Western Border Legion had long since vanished like smoke. All the King of Ji had left to deploy south were a few hundred thousand Imperial Guards and some local levies of negligible worth.
Thus, though urgent pleas for help arrived one after another from the south, the King of Ji had no troops to send. It was not that the Imperial Guard refused to obey orders, but that the three generals in the south refused to accept them.
And so, Li Zhi had continued training his troops and integrating the local territories unhurriedly, quietly waiting for the State of Ji's strength to be exhausted.
The five-thousand-man battalion he had just inspected belonged to this new army, formed with veteran soldiers of Zhenshan Fief as the officer backbone and filled out with a large number of fresh recruits.
Seeing Li Zhi finally nod in approval and award military merit, everyone felt as though they had walked back from the gates of the underworld.
Just as Li Zhi was about to say something, an intuition struck him. He turned to look into the distance. At the horizon lay a sunset glow like blood, the setting sun sinking halfway into the clouds, glowing with an exceptionally vivid and brilliant red.
Li Zhi raised his hand and saw that it was soaked in fresh blood. Before his eyes, most of the soldiers suddenly turned into withered bones, while the auras of a few rose steadily. Above the head of the last man, a war banner faintly emerged, and his aura was so potent that it was actually not inferior to Li Zhi's own.
The vision lasted only an instant before everything before Li Zhi returned to normal. Yet given his current strength, he naturally knew that such a vision could never appear out of nowhere; rather, it seemed to align with the Great Dao of heaven and earth, affording him a glimpse of future mystery.
Possessing the bearing of a formidable overlord, he instantly grasped the truth: *The time has come!*
Li Zhi's gaze settled upon the man who had borne the banner above his head in the vision. At this moment, he was still a very ordinary-looking young soldier, his face bearing the rustic simplicity of a peasant.
Li Zhi walked up to him and asked, "What is your name?"
Chapter 1136