The Gathering Storm

Quliu Town. By full daylight, Yuan Qingyan had already completed his morning exercises and attended to his official duties for an hour. Every day, he arose before dawn, washed, dressed, and then sat in meditation to cultivate for two hours. Once he finished circulating his energy and his mind was clear and sharp, he dealt with government affairs. He had maintained this routine daily ever since entering officialdom. In terms of sheer diligence, few across the entire imperial court could match him. An attendant brought in plain congee and small pickled dishes, which constituted Yuan Qingyan’s breakfast. The sole peculiarity was that the grains were spirit rice and the greens were spirit vegetables. This was an allotment provided by Western Jin specifically for ranked officials. As a commandery governor, he received a set monthly quota of low-grade spiritual food, a rank higher than millet rice. Beneath the dim morning light, Yuan Qingyan ate with single-minded focus, chewing each mouthful slowly and deliberately seven times before swallowing. It was a pious display bordering on affectation. Political rivals had even submitted an imperial memorial censuring him for "contrived posturing to fish for renown." Yet during this time when he was least to be disturbed, the attendant actually pushed open the study door without warning and said, "Excellency, someone outside requests an audience." The attendant had entered without even knocking—an offense normally punishable by being beaten to death with staves. But Yuan Qingyan did not flare up. Sure enough, a soft, seductive voice sounded outside the door: "Do not blame him. He cannot control himself right now." A woman wrapped so tightly that only her eyes were visible walked inside. With a wave of her hand, the attendant retreated on his own and shut the door behind him, appearing even more attentive than when serving Yuan Qingyan. Yuan Qingyan held a scroll in his hand and said slowly, "A Great Shaman’s cultivation does not come easily. Daring to enter my study—do you think you have lived too long?" The woman chuckled softly, her voice melodious. "I came wishing to make friends with Governor Yuan." "Friends?" Yuan Qingyan let out a self-deprecating scoff. "Who throughout the court doesn't know that Yuan is a friendless tyrant, without a single friend to his name? And now a Great Shaman wants to befriend me?" "Two intelligent individuals can become friends—the sort with limited cooperation." "How do you wish to cooperate?" "I bring news. The Shamans are about to launch a massive assault on Qingming with unprecedented force, fielding an army comparable to the one that confronted Commander Yue Jinshan. Qingming most likely will not hold." Yuan Qingyan’s expression remained impassive. "If the lips are gone, the teeth grow cold. I naturally understand that principle. If such critical military intelligence is true, what do you intend to trade it for?" The woman replied, "Giving you this information is already enough to obtain what I want in return. You clever humans always prefer speaking in reverse, do you not?" Yuan Qingyan asked steadily, "May I know your name, Great Shaman?" "Phantom. I hail from a small tribe. Though I am a Great Shaman, I am marginalized on all sides and receive no resources. My path ahead has reached its end." Having said this, the woman added, "Just like yours." After the woman departed, Yuan Qingyan sat motionless, lost in thought. Just then, an outcry sounded outside. The head steward hurried over to report, "Ex-Excellency, your personal attendant just threw himself into the well and died!" "Oh. Find a spot and bury him." Yuan Qingyan spread out ink and paper, lifting his brush to write a letter to Chen Dao: "The Shamans have recently stirred, appearing poised to march upon Qingming. Their forces are vast, bearing signs of sustained follow-up..." In the entire letter, not a single line mentioned Yue Jinshan. *** Outside the Xu family compound on the northern side of Quliu Town, a woman showing only her eyes stood dozens of yards away, gazing at several expansive mansions from afar. Within the compound, the sounds of pipes and strings echoed as banquet revelry and dancing unfolded so early in the morning—truly extravagant and wanton. The woman lingered for a moment, made no approach, and then turned away, vanishing from sight. Inside the secluded courtyard, an aged face surfaced once more upon the ancient tree, murmuring, "This place is already so desolate. Why do Shamans keep coming and going? What does she want?" The enchanting woman in red still sat by the window. Without looking up, she said, "She thinks she understands humans very well and wants to sow discord." The old tree chuckled. "A foolish Shaman. The relationships between humans are so convoluted—how could she possibly succeed at sowing discord?" "Barring any unforeseen circumstances, she already has." The old man's smile froze upon the trunk. Fortunately, his movements were naturally sluggish, so the freeze was hardly noticeable. Much of the smile faded from the old tree's face. "Shall we lure her in and kill her? Lately, I feel a bit malnourished." The woman did not answer, so the old tree let the topic drop. Turning a page in her storybook, she asked somewhat casually, "Since you had already discovered me, why didn't you say anything the few times people from the main branch came by?" "I'd like to live a few more years." "And you can accept Xu Jingfeng sitting in that position?" A smile resurfaced on the old tree's face. "Jingfeng wasn't a poor lad to begin with, and after weathering hardships, he is all the more outstanding. He is naturally fit to hold that position. As long as his surname is still Xu, it doesn't matter which side his backside rests on. In my old age, I like holding black stones in one hand and white in the other." The woman offered no reply. The old tree asked tentatively, "During the previous great battles, why didn't you make a move?" "Sitting here reading books is more important." The old tree said in confusion, "There is nothing here. The only secret vault was already carried off by that kid in Qingming. What meaning is there in sitting here? No need to stare at me—this old man fears death greatly, so everything is open to discussion." At this, the old tree remarked self-deprecatingly, "Back when I was human, this old man was quite brave. Who knew that after turning into a tree, I would end up terrified of dying? Girl, if you're willing to tell me why you sit here without moving, I will give you my treasured storybooks. Every single one is a rare edition." The red-clad woman replied indifferently, "Considering the gap in our cultivation, is it appropriate for you to call me 'girl'?" "Respecting the elderly and honoring our elders has been a virtue since antiquity. Besides, you aren't that old; I'm more than old enough to be your grandfather's grandfather. Enough nonsense—do you want the storybooks or not?" The old tree showed a rare touch of backbone. The woman said, "Right now, this place is the most crucial feng shui node, capable of influencing the karmic luck of the entire region. With me sitting here, no one else can see it." "Capable of influencing the karmic luck of the entire region? This old man has stood rooted here for over a century—how come I never noticed?" The red-clad woman initially thought to explain, but then gave up. "Feng shui and karmic luck are too complicated. You aren't very clever, so you wouldn't understand even if I told you." *** Dusk. Wei Yuan stood on the main peak, gazing northwest with a faint sense of unease. In the northwestern sky, a verdant green Qi pierced straight into the heavens, brimming with murderous intent and coiled for action. The great battle might erupt this very night. Wei Yuan returned to his chamber and set about readjusting his feng shui formation. He added another drop of platinum celestial laurel sap into the formation plate, yet still felt it insufficient. Looking at the dense azure karmic luck that multiplied daily, he gritted his teeth and cast several hundred wisps of azure qi into the formation in one breath. With war imminent, Wei Yuan had to drive his karmic luck endlessly higher, creating a karmic depression in the surrounding area. Only then might he find a path to survival amid mortal peril. As night fell, mournful horn calls reverberated through heaven and earth. The horns originated from the Shaman City, yet they echoed with crisp clarity even at the center of the domain hundreds of li away. The heavy drone seemed to possess the power to seize souls. Many ordinary folk collapsed in agony upon hearing it, struggling back to their feet only when the glow of Jia Wood Life-Mystic began shimmering across their bodies. Bells tolled within the domain. Countless people jolted awake from their sleep, instantly donning their armor according to regular training, seizing the newly issued weapons, and gathering at designated muster points to await further orders. The aroma of food drifted through every camp as officers hauled baskets of steamed buns to distribute to the fully outfitted warriors. The soldiers wolfed them down in a few bites, their aura visibly strengthening. These steamed buns had been mixed with flour ground from millet rice and infused with medicine formulated by Sun Yu. Consuming them not only replenished primordial vitality but also induced intense vigor, allowing one to go without sleep or rest for several days without issue. Though a serious illness would follow once the effects wore off, Sun Yu’s original words had been that without this medicine, they might die without ever getting the chance to fall ill. The muffled boom of war drums sounded. Wang Yu had intended to take up the drumsticks, but Xu Yi snatched them away. Her long hair flew as she beat the drums with all her might. Viewed from afar, she looked like an immortal maiden descending to the mortal world, stirring the blood of the entire army to a boil. Wei Yuan silently praised her as well. Xu Yi’s drumming was far more inspiring than Wang Yu’s had been. In the distance, the Shaman City was ablaze with torchlight, its military aura soaring into the sky. Then the main gates swung wide. A high platform was slowly rolled out, and columns of soldiers poured forth from every gate, converging into a torrential flood that surged toward Qingming, blotting out the earth. Wei Yuan calculated the time, estimating that the Shaman host would reach the domain’s edge around midnight—the exact hour when the Shaman army’s combat strength peaked. Right at that moment, Wei Yuan’s pupils contracted. Amid the Shaman battle formations, numerous black shadows resembling small mountains came into view. Rampaging beasts? Wei Yuan immediately pointed toward the sky. A crimson beam of light shot into the night sky, and the entire domain erupted into motion. Originally, Wei Yuan’s order had exempted those without Body Tempering cultivation who were elders over fifty or children under ten from assembling for battle. But with this emergency summons issued, everyone capable of moving—aside from children under seven or eight—took up weapons and marched toward Xuanwei Sixth City. Gazing at those mountain-like silhouettes in the distance, Wei Yuan’s expression turned grim. Rampaging beasts were traditionally deployed only in major campaigns, stationed mostly on the northern battlefront against the Liao Clan in recent years. Now that rampaging beasts had actually appeared here at Qingming, Wei Yuan began to wonder whether he had infused too much karmic luck into the feng shui formation—and if, by pushing things too far, his own side had become the karmic depression instead.