Lines of light appeared continuously, connecting to Wei Yuan. Xu Wuji sprinted circles around him, darting in with a sudden thrust from time to time.
The dharma idol warrior flashed repeatedly, severing line after line of light. Yet there was still a minute delay between its disappearance and reappearance, allowing Xu Wuji to spot a flaw.
Moreover, though this warrior possessed the power of a dharma idol, it remained motionless as a statue. Wei Yuan merely used it to block Xu Wuji's charging routes while seizing every fleeting moment to restore his Dao power, lacking the strength to counterattack at all.
The luminaries watching had keen eyes. After their initial shock, they all discerned that although the warrior possessed the cultivation of a dharma idol, it was completely devoid of vitality. It was likely the remains of a deceased dharma idol cultivator that had fallen into Wei Yuan's hands and been refined through secret arts into something akin to a magical treasure.
The Palace of Grand Beginning had the shortest history among the immortal sects, yet it boasted the most Dao paths. Many of these paths even contradicted one another, walking the line between orthodox and demonic; it was not in the least surprising that they possessed such methods.
In Wei Yuan's hands, this warrior was effectively an immobile dharma idol cultivator. Its dharma body had already been exceptionally durable, and after being refined, it was not something an ordinary Dao Foundation cultivator could damage.
Xu Wuji had slashed at it tentatively, only to leave a shallow nick. The cut looked like metal or jade, its material indeterminate, but it was certainly not flesh and blood.
Still, with Wei Yuan's depleted Dao power at the moment, driving such a treasure was immensely taxing, inevitably making it clunky.
Xu Wuji was an expert recruited by Lü Wenbai specifically to handle this Autumn Hunt, having postponed his breakthrough to the Dharma Idol stage by a full year for that very purpose.
He possessed sharp eyes and naturally recognized this weakness. After several probing strikes, at the exact instant the dharma idol warrior flashed into place to intercept him, Xu Wuji suddenly shifted from incorporeal to solid. His form materialized, sweeping past the warrior's flank to launch an ambush straight at Wei Yuan.
Yet just as he brushed past the warrior, the figure—motionless as a statue until now—suddenly swung its great hand and delivered a thunderous slap squarely across Xu Wuji's face!
This strike packed the power of a dharma idol cultivator. Xu Wuji was no Wei Yuan; taking it flush on the face sent his world spinning and stars bursting before his eyes, spraying nosebleed and knocking his front teeth flying.
Through his blurred vision, Xu Wuji saw Wei Yuan appear before him, raising high the spear tipped with the immortal sword. In a panic, he blurted out, "Wait! My uncle is—"
Before he could finish, Wei Yuan cleaved downward, sending his head flying into the air.
Xu Wuji's head tumbled across the ground, coming to a halt before the dharma idol warrior. With his dying breath, he watched as the warrior extended its large hand and flipped him the middle finger.
What did that gesture mean...? Befuddled by the mystery, Xu Wuji drew his final breath.
The great figures on the high platform were worldly-wise and astute. Though none understood the exact meaning of this gesture from an otherworldly realm, they could all guess it was nothing good, and quite likely crude.
After making the gesture, the warrior resumed its solemn posture, blade in hand, signaling that it was merely an immobile statue.
Wei Yuan beckoned with a wave, and the dharma idol warrior vanished into thin air, recalled into his possession.
Only then did Wei Yuan find the leisure to look toward Lü Wenbai, the Military Commissioner of Yunxiang on the platform, and say, "It turns out Lord Lü doesn't like abiding by the rules either. It so happens neither do I. That makes things simple."
Lü Wenbai's face was as dark as could be, but he merely huffed and kept his silence.
Prince Wei was clearly unwilling to let the matter rest. He turned toward the adjacent high platform, the section belonging to Prince Cheng. Standing beside Prince Cheng was a short, stocky man whose mere presence was like a towering mountain.
The man looked straight past Prince Wei's glance, offering no response whatsoever. Prince Wei grew anxious and looked toward Prince Cheng, crying out, "Grand-uncle..."
Prince Cheng raised his cup and sipped leisurely, as if he had heard nothing.
Prince Wei had some measure of depth after all; realizing something was off, he quieted down.
At that moment, the King of Jin had eyes for only two people. One was near the carriages parked not far away, where an old coachman leaned against the driver's box smoking a pipe, the embers flaring and fading. The other was the woman in red beneath an ancient tree on the opposite peak, quietly holding a book and reading.
The King of Jin withdrew his gaze and asked, "Minister Wei, does that spear thrust you used against the golden body of the Immovable Wisdom King have a name?"
A single thrust? Many officials were baffled. How was that one thrust? It was clearly nearly a hundred thrusts. The King of Jin's cultivation was by no means low, so how could he mistake it? Only those privy to the details of Prince Wei's banquet could discern the teasing mockery in the King of Jin's words.
Wei Yuan's thoughts raced, and he replied solemnly, "This subject calls that thrust: A Thousand Pear Trees Bursting into Blossom."
The King of Jin gave a hearty laugh. "To defeat an enemy, My Minister truly needs but a single thrust!"
With the King of Jin's laughter, the high platform dissolved into chuckles; in an instant, ruler and ministers made merry together in harmonious good cheer.
Yet at the edge of the high platform, farthest away in the section for third-rank civil officials, several aged ministers were whispering among themselves once again.
"Hmph! And that can be called a single thrust? His cheek is truly impenetrable!"
"Heh-heh, if he knew the verse about how the wind 'blows down stars like rain,' he could probably brandish it for a whole two hours!"
"Crude and unlettered barbarians. He probably doesn't know there is also a thrust called 'The Boundless Great River Rolls Onward.' If he got hold of that one, he could thrust all night long..."
The men broke into suppressed chuckles.
Wei Yuan's ears twitched faintly as he committed these two moves to memory, thinking he might find a use for them later.
Though Wei Yuan saw nothing himself, he deduced from the King of Jin's somewhat abrupt reaction that someone from back home had probably come.
Just then, several retainers from Prince Wei's Estate and the military commissioner stepped onto the martial arena, intent on recovering the bodies of Shan Kai and Xu Wuji. Wei Yuan swept his spear across, forcing them back. Looking across at Prince Wei from afar, he said, "There is no joking before the king!"
Prince Wei was stunned, and anger surged within him. He said in a low voice, "Lord Wei, do not cross the line!"
Wei Yuan repeated, "There is no joking before the king."
Liu Quangong's slightly shrill voice rang out: "What are you lot standing around dazed for? Why haven't you dragged the corpses away and sent them to the mastiff pens?"
The palace attendants snapped back to reality and immediately came forward to drag away the corpses of Shan Kai and Xu Wuji.
Wei Yuan remarked, "Feeding them to dogs is rather troublesome. Just dumping them in a mass grave will do."
Liu Quangong immediately echoed, "Toss these two corpses into the mass graves and post guards over them—no one is allowed to bury them!"
After this battle, no one dared challenge Wei Yuan again. Everyone had sensed the subtle shift in the King of Jin's attitude, and with a Dharma Idol-level puppet in Wei Yuan's hands, anyone who stepped forward would simply be throwing their life away; further challenges were meaningless.
Dharma idol puppets were exceptionally rare, their value sky-high. Across the entire high platform, only the Crown Prince possessed one to protect his life. Purely in terms of value, a dharma idol puppet was far costlier than an actual dharma idol cultivator; after all, a puppet obeyed orders, while a living person always had thoughts of their own.
If someone possessed a puppet like this, why would they ever need to risk their lives working for others?
Once Wei Yuan stepped down, the martial bouts returned to their regular rhythm. Wagers resumed, and the atmosphere grew lively once more.
Yet the occasional glances Prince Wei and Lü Wenbai cast his way were thick with hatred. Wei Yuan held two devastating trump cards—the immortal sword and the dharma idol puppet—yet had kept perfectly calm, producing them one after another only at the crucial moments, costing Prince Wei and Lü Wenbai two great generals for nothing. Had they known earlier, they never would have dispatched their men to throw away their lives.
Now it was too late for regrets; they could only curse Wei Yuan inwardly.
As the sun set in the west, the martial bouts concluded, and Wei Yuan led his retinue back to the posthouse. On the road, officials who caught sight of Wei Yuan detoured far around him, not a single one stepping forward to greet him, avoiding him as if he were a plague god.
Wei Yuan paid it no heed. Returning to his quarters, he closed the doors, calmed his spirit, and resumed contemplating the sword.
Tomorrow's enclosure hunt would be the main course of the Autumn Hunt; the martial bouts were merely an appetizer. The hunt offered lavish rewards—not just gold, silver, magical artifacts, and heavenly treasures, but official posts, noble ranks, and even fiefs. Though modest, they were enough to let a youth of humble birth leap through the Dragon Gate.
Yet none of that was the chief attraction of this Autumn Hunt. The true centerpiece was that the victor would receive a portion of Western Jin's national karmic luck. Bolstered by this fortune, their endeavors would surely blaze with glory and flourish boundlessly, allowing them to accomplish great deeds!
Zhao Tong had delivered on the coin he was paid, explaining these crucial points to Wei Yuan in clear detail long beforehand. Wei Yuan had also made up his mind: in tomorrow's hunt, he absolutely must not take the lion's share of glory as he had today. He had to keep his light under a bushel, pull in his head like a turtle, and strive to come in dead last.
Gaining a share of national fortune to propel one's career and cultivation into the skies, binding oneself to the fate of the nation from then on, weathering hardships together, turning the raging tide, and propping up a collapsing mansion—that was business for the Crown Prince, Prince Wei, or perhaps the future Prince Fu and other royal sons, or for imperial clansmen like Prince Ying and Prince Cheng. In any case, it was none of Wei Yuan's business.
Wei Yuan bore otherworldly fortune, accompanied by the mortal luck of numerous territories; he cared little whether he had a bit more or less of Western Jin's national fortune.
If tomorrow's hunt went smoothly, that would naturally be best, but if anyone truly lacked the eyes to see and crossed him, Wei Yuan would hardly swallow insults in silence.
The night grew deep, yet things were far from quiet.
Across the vast grounds of the Autumn Hunt, countless camps large and small had been pitched. Within each camp stood only a few large tents, serving as rudimentary shelter from the wind and rain. Several fully equipped, heavily armored warriors patrolled back and forth.
At the corner of one tent, a flap was peeled back a crack, revealing a gray eye. He watched the two heavily armored warriors walk into the distance, then turned back to swiftly tap the sleeping figures inside awake, one by one.
Roughly a hundred people were crammed into this tent. Once patted awake, they all sat up and silently began circulating their arts in cross-legged meditation. Men and women alike, dressed in commoners' clothing, every single one had gray eyes and four fingers—all members of the Vast Sea Liao Clan.
The one waking them was a youth, sharp and nimble, moving soundlessly like a hunting leopard. He checked the movements outside once more; as the heavily armored warriors marched back, he waved a hand behind him, and all the Liao people immediately dropped flat to the ground.
A heavily armored warrior lifted the tent curtain and swept his gaze over the interior. Finding nothing amiss, he lowered the curtain and continued his patrol.
Once he was far away, the Liao people in the tent resumed meditating. Finally, a burly man dry-heaved and coughed up a dark red pill. The youth picked it up and stowed it away at once. Shortly after, one Liao person after another vomited up pills, their auras beginning to climb slowly, while the youth collected every single pill.
The youth stripped off his worn leather coat and ripped open the inner lining. To one's astonishment, drawn upon the inside was a topographical map, covered with numerous markings.
He summoned several strong Liao men and whispered, "I have memorized the terrain of the surrounding area. Two hours before dawn, they will release us from the camp to move freely. At that time, we will split under two leaders to comb the area and scavenge as many weapons and rations as possible. And here, near the edge of the hunting ground where the only river in the vicinity flows, the humans are very likely to pitch a military camp.
"When the time comes, those soldiers will go to protect their king, so there shouldn't be many left in the camp. We will slip in quietly, take out the sentries, and seize some horses, then scatter and flee north..."
The youth laid out the plan swiftly and in hushed tones, like a born hunter. None of the surrounding Liao people questioned his authority, listening in silence.
Reaching the end, the youth pumped his fist hard, declaring in an authoritative voice that defied his tender age: "I am the reincarnation of the Silver Moon Great Khan, and now the Great Khan has awakened! We will surely return to the north; only there lies the vast expanse where we can roam free! When the season comes when warhorses are at their fattest, I will lead you back here to return every shred of suffering we have endured to these wicked humans!"
Before dawn had even broken, the call of horns echoed among the mountains. Squads of heavily armored warriors withdrew from the camps, pulling back along predetermined routes. From the scattered camps, countless Liao people burst from their tents and dispersed in all directions, searching for concealed weapons, armor, and provisions.
Amid the chaos, certain Liao people seemed to possess a clear goal, now dispersing, now coalescing, steadily closing in on their planned objective.
Once daylight broke fully, the many princes, dukes, and high ministers of Western Jin would enter the grounds, raising the curtain on the enclosure battue of the Autumn Hunt.
In Western Jin, the prey of the battue was not beasts, but foreign clans.
Chapter 317