Back in the domain, Wei Yuan brought the youths to the new city. The dead were buried outside the walls, the wounded treated, and everything returned to its proper track.
In this battle, of the thirty thousand youths who had only just entered the Blood Merging realm, two hundred had died and a hundred-odd were wounded—more dead than injured. Meanwhile, the ten thousand Northern Border Iron Cavalry were utterly wiped out. The survivors likely did not even amount to a thousand, and those who did would never set foot on a battlefield again.
Before the battle, likely no one except Wei Yuan could have imagined such an outcome. Yue Jinshan had only sixty thousand iron cavalry in total and had never suffered a major defeat in his life. Yet in merely probing the domain's strength, he had lost a full ten thousand men—a heavier loss than in any previous major campaign.
Like a lone wolf that sought to bite its prey to test its strength, only to shatter every tooth in its mouth.
For this battle, Wei Yuan had pored over every past engagement of the Northern Border Iron Cavalry, gathered every scrap of intelligence he could find, and even stealthily scouted them in person.
The youths' training had been dedicated entirely to faster reloading and more accurate shooting. The guns and paper cartridges had undergone repeated refinements until they finally met the standard: a single swift draw to seat the charge smoothly. Wei Yuan had also conducted numerous drills with his own cavalry, ultimately enabling the youths to expend all five reserve cartridges within the few short breaths between the cavalry entering range and closing the distance. Five rounds was the limit solely because there was simply no time to fire more.
They felt no fear and showed no wavering; even if an enemy's blade pierced their flesh, they would not pause in their drilled movements. Only they could loose six shots under the terrifying pressure of iron cavalry charging at full gallop. That was why Wei Yuan had said back then that these youths were the natural bane of heavy cavalry.
Without them, Wei Yuan would have had to clash head-on with over ten thousand iron cavalry using his thousand-plus Dao Foundation knights, with faceless warriors covering the flanks using beehive flying swords. While he could have won that way, it would have been by crushing them with cultivation realms and brute numbers—something Yue Jinshan might not have accepted.
After this great battle, there were still many things to review and improve. For instance, the catapult-launched steel canisters had proved deeply problematic; of the twenty-odd fired, only two had actually detonated.
Furthermore, reloading speed was approaching its limit; not everyone could achieve a rate of six hundred rounds per minute through manual muzzle-loading like Yu Zhizhuo.
Yet converting muzzle-loaders to breech-loaders would require redesigning the entire gun, which inevitably meant adding numerous mechanical components. And beyond the trigger and stock, the only firearm mechanism Xu Wenwu could recall was a bolt—and of the bolt, he only remembered the handle sticking out on the outside.
If they avoided adding a reloading mechanism and merely adopted the crude approach of slipping the round in from the breech and plugging it with an end cap, breech-loading would be scarcely faster than muzzle-loading, while muzzle-loading had one fewer part and was sturdier.
After consulting with one another, the Palace of Grand Beginning cultivators agreed that there was no rush to design an entirely new gun; instead, they should first mass-produce and equip their forces with the mature steel-tube guns. The cartridges had also been exhausted and needed to be manufactured anew.
Wei Yuan delegated these tasks to the others, while he hurried over to the Qingming boundary stone to begin secluded cultivation.
At this moment, within his Dao Foundation, the black waters churned ever more violently, as though coming to a boil. Wei Yuan could also faintly sense a tremor, as if something beneath the water was struggling to surface.
Ever since the Gate of the Many Realms opened, the black pool where it resided had grown increasingly bizarre. Sometimes, when Wei Yuan stood by the water's edge, he could not see the bottom at all. If he probed with divine sense, even diving several hundred zhang deep yielded no bottom. Yet judging by the dimensions of Jade Mountain, even after reaching ten zhang in height following his breakthrough to the middle stage, the pool's depth should not have exceeded two chi.
Wei Yuan had an intuition that should he jump into the pool, something terrible would occur.
The pool surged more and more furiously; only by drawing upon Qingming's power could he barely keep it contained within a set bounds. Beneath the water, something was unmistakably thrashing, as though trying to break free of a shell.
It exerted a pressure that even Wei Yuan's Primordial Spirit could feel.
This entity seemed to be constantly shifting, while absorbing every concept it could from its surroundings. Eerily, what it absorbed most were Wei Yuan's knowledge of cultivation methods, the laws of heaven and earth, and karmic luck. Like a newborn infant, it was curiously learning everything about the world.
Its struggles grew ever more violent. In the blink of an eye, even with Qingming's power, Wei Yuan could no longer suppress it. The pool erupted into an explosive wave, and a dark figure burst from the water, landing squarely atop the Ten Thousand Li of Rivers and Mountains!
It was a man nine chi tall, clutching a horse-chopping saber, his countenance cold and hard as iron, radiating fierce, domineering might.
Above his head manifested a knight clad in full heavy armor, eyes burning with flames beneath his helmet. The steed beneath him was likewise barded in iron plate covered in sharp blades, snorting sparks from its nostrils like a divine demon!
Wei Yuan could not recognize this knight, but it was undoubtedly a dharma idol. The being that had fought its way out of the black pool was actually a dharma idol cultivator?!
Back when Xu Li attacked, Wei Yuan's forces had eliminated over four thousand enemies in total, of whom only a thousand died in battle while the remaining three thousand were captured alive. Those one thousand fallen had ultimately transformed into twenty faceless warriors.
In the battle against Yue Jinshan, though others remained unaware, Wei Yuan could see clearly because the Gate of the Many Realms was open: the souls of all the fallen cavalry had not dissipated, but had entered the Gate of the Many Realms one by one.
The souls of nearly ten thousand cavalrymen had ultimately coalesced into this dharma idol warrior. Though Wei Yuan did not yet know what his dharma idol was, a single glance revealed he was bred for war and slaughter.
Looking at the dharma idol warrior standing before him like an unshakeable mountain, Wei Yuan was suddenly at a loss for words. The immortal path was arduous; he had spent a decade and consumed countless resources just to reach the middle Dao Foundation stage, with no telling when he would attain Spirit Nourishing.
Yet here he was, with a dharma idol warrior already taking up residence in his Dao Foundation. Was this dharma idol his, or wasn't it? What did that make him?
If that dharma idol warrior was a feast, was he merely the serving platter?
Or by the common phrasing of the outer realm, was he now 0.25 of a dharma idol?
Just as his head was throbbing with confusion, a sudden premonition struck him. Wei Yuan flew out of his meditation chamber and tilted his head to look at the sky.
A layer of thin clouds had gathered over the domain, sheer as silk and gauze. Sunlight filtered through the haze, illuminating tracts of mountains and woodlands like an immortal wonderland.
A fine drizzle began to drift through the air, carrying a spiritual energy that refreshed the soul. Many people put down their chores and stepped outside their homes, staring in astonishment at the sudden spiritual rain.
The earth brimmed with vibrant life. The spiritual rain made no distinction between noble and lowly; all vegetation flourished beneath it.
By comparison, ordinary grain had very low requirements and had never enjoyed the privilege of being irrigated by spiritual water. Under the combined force of heaven and earth, the stalks grew wildly by leaps and bounds, shooting up from freshly sprouted shoots into plants a chi tall in the blink of an eye.
Ji Liuli appeared beside Wei Yuan, watching the unexpected spiritual rain. After a moment, she asked, "Whence came this bestowal of heaven and earth?"
Wei Yuan looked solemn and slowly shook his head.
Ji Liuli added, "Could it be from those ten thousand iron cavalry?"
"I think... it might be."
"This is rather strange. I'll make a trip back to the palace in a few days to ask the Patriarch what this is all about."
What neither said aloud was that this spiritual rain was vast in scale, blanketing the entire domain, and so abundant that it hardly seemed like a regular bestowal of heaven and earth. Strictly speaking, it bore a closer resemblance to the Shamans' sacrifices to heaven.
...
Back in his quarters, Wei Yuan felt restless. Several attempts to cultivate failed to calm his mind. So he simply stood up to set up a formation. When in doubt, consult feng shui—this was fundamental discipline for every cultivator of the Palace of Grand Beginning.
For his first divination, Wei Yuan used the aura of the Red Lotus Bodhi as a medium. The hexagram indicated that opportunity lay to the southeast.
Yet the reading was somewhat nebulous. That was the trouble with the Buddhist path: they loved speaking in Zen riddles, always shrouding things in fog. One could interpret it this way or that way, and no matter how things ended up, they would always claim to be right.
Wei Yuan then conducted a divination using the aura of the celestial laurel tree as a medium; it said the opportunity for victory lay to the northwest.
Refusing to give up, Wei Yuan divined once more using the White Lotus of the Defiled Earth as a medium. The result was that things would arise in the northeast.
At this point, Wei Yuan finally realized that celestial objects possessed spiritual awareness, and each had its own ideas.
A thought struck Wei Yuan. Since he was already divining, there was still that maiden of even higher grade within the Ten Thousand Li of Rivers and Mountains. He went before the maiden, deliberately avoiding scrutinizing her increasingly detailed body, rubbed his hands against her a few times to brush off some of her aura, and then exited the Ten Thousand Li of Rivers and Mountains.
Just as he was about to set up the altar and cast the ritual, Wei Yuan froze. He noticed an inch-long strand of hair resting in his hand. Had he brushed this off the maiden just now?
Why was she shedding hair?
The Yin-Yang Dao Foundation was an integrated whole, unified throughout. Severing one part was severing the whole; every part of the body was effectively the same single point. According to common cultivation lore, not even Zhang Sheng's fourth immortal sword could have severed a single strand of the maiden's hair; there could only be total annihilation in a single strike. Yet destroying Yin-Yang was likely beyond the power of even a True Monarch.
Back when facing the cloth-robed swordsman Xu Shiqi, the Yin-Yang maiden had annihilated him with a single sword strike. The Crimson Night Immortal-Slaying Sword could claim at most ten percent of the credit; ninety percent had come from the overwhelming might of the Yin-Yang Dao Body.
Yet now, a single strand of hair lay quietly in Wei Yuan's palm, unmistakably bearing the aura of Yin-Yang, seemingly mocking Wei Yuan's ignorance.
At this moment, Wei Yuan naturally understood how this strand of hair was meant to be used. Celestial objects had spirits of their own; even if he wanted to use it elsewhere, he couldn't.
Thereupon, Wei Yuan laid out a feng shui formation and cast the strand of hair inside. The formation operated on its own, its standing elevated to an unprecedented height, and produced a crystal-clear, unequivocal conclusion:
Affinity lay in the far north.
At this point, Wei Yuan finally understood: celestial objects would never agree with one another.
If he encountered more opportunities in the future and gathered even more celestial plants within the Ten Thousand Li of Rivers and Mountains, he feared eight directions wouldn't be enough.
However, divining to this point was the same as not divining at all.
Wei Yuan narrowed his eyes slightly and focused on calculating, ultimately relying on instinct to deduce that something must be happening in the southeast.
The southeast was the direction of Quliu Town. Perhaps nothing had originally been going on there, but since Wei Yuan's intuition told him something should be happening, then even if nothing was, he could stir something up—otherwise, wouldn't it make his divination skills look sloppy?
Western Jin had already probed his strength, so he had to do something in return. Courtesy demanded reciprocity, after all.
Wei Yuan stepped out of his residence, summoned the Azure Steed, and gathered his subordinates. Half a shichen later, a large host of masked knights rode out of the domain, heading straight for Quliu Town.
Yuan Qingyan was sitting rigidly in his study. The weather was bleak, leaden clouds blanketing the sky, and the room was as dim as night, yet he had not lit a lamp.
A bowl of broth sat on the side table. Yuan Qingyan reached over, took a sip, and quietly set it back down. Still, he did not light a lamp.
The soup had long grown cold.
A sudden commotion broke out outside the study. Servants were panicked and disoriented, as though some catastrophe had struck.
Given Yuan Qingyan's usual temper, he would have opened the door and berated them long ago, likely adding a few lashes for good measure. But now, he had lost the will. He felt so weary that he lacked even the strength to be angry.
A soft knock came at the study door.
Yuan Qingyan finally could not hold back a spark of temper and barked, "What is it?!"
The study door opened, and the house steward crept in trembling. "Lord Yuan, disaster! The Heav... Heaven-Battling Gang has entered the city!"
Yuan Qingyan merely gave an "oh." "Understood. You may leave... Wait. Bring me my sword!"
The steward jumped in fright and said anxiously, "Master, while there's green hills, there's wood to burn—"
"Go, now!"
The steward dared not say another word. A moment later, he brought Yuan Qingyan's sword in both hands.
Yuan Qingyan adjusted his robes and cap, sat up straight and dignified, and laid the sword across his knees. He suddenly felt the room was somewhat dim, and only then remembered to light the lamp.
Quliu Town was deathly silent. Not a soul was to be seen on the desolate streets, save for the incessant clatter of hooves echoing faintly between the buildings.
Wei Yuan looked all around. There were no garrison soldiers, no yamen runners; it was as though this were a dead city. As for commoners, they were all in Qingming now, leaving none here.
Quliu Town had still undergone some changes: the former Lie-Flat Inn had been converted into the commandery yamen, while adjacent to it stood the deputy general's yamen, its freshly painted gates dazzlingly crimson.
Wei Yuan urged his mount forward, riding slowly toward the commandery governor's yamen. Before entering the town, he had spotted a few scattered garrison soldiers, but the moment they saw the masked knights, they scattered like startled birds and beasts, moving with a speed that inspired awe.
Arriving before the front gate of the commandery governor's residence, Wei Yuan tapped gently on the doors with his spear.
No one opened the gate, but the sound of chattering teeth could be heard from within.
Wei Yuan smiled faintly and said, "It seems Lord Yuan has no wish to see us. Let's go."
The large band of horse bandits sauntered leisurely through the city in broad daylight. A commandery governor bore the duty of defending his territory, yet not only had a massive force of horse bandits entered the commandery seat, they had flaunted their presence right in front of the governor's and deputy general's yamens. Wei Yuan was eager to see how Yuan Qingyan would whitewash this.
Chapter 303