A hazy mist hung over the skies of Northern Shanyue. Li Xijun was haloed in snowy light, a sword belted at his waist, white radiance swirling in his eyes. He looked down toward the foot of the mountains where the troops of the Dili family entered the town. The Snow upon Pine art conjured a drift of snow-white clouds beneath his feet, lending him an ethereal, transcendent grace.
“Minghuang is clever. He has already taken a Shanyue moniker to test the waters against the ruler of Northern Shanyue.”
Li Xijun had made similar arrangements of his own, but had chosen to remain silent to test the youth first. Seeing how properly he had handled the matter, he nodded, feeling much relieved.
Li Ximing watched in rapt absorption, looking both envious and satisfied, as though some long-cherished wish had been fulfilled. A dazed expression lingered on his face. Hearing Li Xijun’s words, he retrieved a jade bottle from his robes and said:
“He has reached the fifth layer of Embryonic Breathing. Consuming that elixir will take him to the sixth... I also have this Mingshen Powder to give him. Qi Refinement is right before his eyes.”
Li Xijun nodded and tucked it into his robes. Raising his brows to gaze into the distance, he saw two contingents of troops marching out of the town into the night. He smiled and remarked:
“I hear the ruler of Northern Shanyue is no incompetent either. He will serve as Minghuang’s whetstone.”
Li Ximing nodded, then suddenly spoke up:
“Xijun, have you read through the Scripture of Minghua Huangyuan in detail?”
Li Xijun shook his head.
“I do not cultivate this path. I merely perused parts of it for reference. What is it?”
Li Ximing fell silent, gathering his thoughts before speaking softly:
“I examined the nine secret arts for breaking through to the Purple Mansion. Their difficulty is exceedingly steep. Mastering three offers only a fifteen percent chance; even if one masters all nine, the probability remains under fifty percent—and that is not even factoring in one’s environment.”
Li Xijun gave a bitter smile and answered:
“How could it possibly be easy! Each secret art is tremendously difficult; without more than a decade, one cannot hope to master even one. But if all nine could truly be cultivated, that would indeed be an exceptionally high chance of success.”
The Li family naturally lacked any prime environment for breaking through to the Purple Mansion. Li Ximing made some calculations in his heart and said in a low voice:
“However, the scroll also records several spiritual items that can assist in breaking through to the Purple Mansion... items such as the Brightlight Heavenly Stone, Linwu Spirit Molt, and White Du Blood.”
Li Ximing named several spiritual items, each clearly a rare and exquisite treasure, before explaining:
“All of them are at the Purple Mansion tier...”
Li Xijun’s expression shifted, a sudden realization dawning on him. He mused inwardly:
*No wonder Ning Wan and the others lingered for so long in late Foundation Establishment... She might not even have nine arts available to practice!*
Pausing briefly, Li Xijun said:
“Give me the list. I will have Zhi-ge'er look into it and make inquiries in various regions. It would be best if we could secure some leads.”
Li Ximing nodded heavily and replied:
“I understand, of course.”
While the two Foundation Establishment cultivators conversed quietly above, the army moved below.
***
Chan Pass.
Li Zhouwei came down from the pass ramparts and mounted his steed without a moment’s rest. He had the Shanyue commander, Du Dou, assemble all the soldiers and slaves. Standing on the raised platform with halberd in hand, his armor gleamed with a chilling luster.
Among the crowd of Shanyue warriors, some wore suits of armor, while others were bare-chested slaves. It was apparent that Du Dou had kept up their military drills in ordinary times; at the very least, they did not mill about in chaotic clumps, though their discipline was hardly exemplary either.
Those reduced to guarding border passes were naturally not of noble stock, and most were slaves. Listless and weary, they looked up to watch cartloads of provisions being hauled onto the platform, whispering among themselves in low murmurs.
The Shanyue looked around blankly. To them, changing commanders seemed to make no difference at all, and their eyes lingered only greedily on the weapons piled upon the stage.
Li Zhouwei’s gaze swept across the bedraggled, grimy faces of the Shanyue. A bizarre crimson light slowly surfaced along his halberd, exuding a mesmerizing pull that drew every eye upward to meet his.
“Hear me, all of you.”
Li Zhouwei’s voice echoed across the pass. It was deep and low, yet it rang through the air with an intoxicating resonance:
“I am Dahe Mingfang, mandated by Heaven to conquer the Northern Court. In every town our forces capture, the nobles shall be slaughtered first, and their wealth and lands distributed. Once the Northern Court is taken, every lowly slave shall be stripped of slave status!”
He stood motionless as his words rippled through the Shanyue like sacred chants, murmuring and echoing:
“In captured towns, slaughter the nobles first, distribute wealth and lands.”
“Once the Northern Court is taken, strip all slaves of their servitude.”
“Distribute wealth and lands?”
“Strip slave status? Does this general truly keep his word...?”
Li Zhouwei paused, then repeated the proclamation once more. His voice grew increasingly ethereal, carrying an uncanny power that bewitched the soul. The suspicion and doubt in the eyes of the Shanyue gradually vanished, replaced by a surging, fiery greed.
The proclamation flushed their faces red. Behind Li Zhouwei, the monk Kongheng was already spinning the string of plain wooden beads in his hand until they clicked and creaked. Still unable to conceal the astonishment plastered across his face, he muttered:
“Back in the day, Jianixi... was hardly more than this!”
“Bright King Shengming Jin... Dahe Mingfang...”
Kongheng stood to the side, his eyes dazed. The voice wormed into his ears through every pore, causing a wave of tumultuous emotion to stir even within an Embryonic Breathing seventh-layer cultivator like him.
“Master... what are you thinking?”
Yet Kongheng possessed firm resolve. He quickly gathered his wits and looked up. Catching the faint glow radiating from Li Zhouwei’s eyes, he hastily lowered his head, shuddering inwardly:
*He belongs seated within a temple, enshrined upon an altar...*
Mounted on his horse, the golden specks in Li Zhouwei’s eyes flickered slightly. Feeling the entranced devotion of the soldiers gazing upon him, instincts long buried within his body seemed to well up incessantly.
A faint crimson light gradually ignited in their eyes. Exchanging glances, they stepped forward one by one to pick up the weapons piled before them, silent as a pack of ravenous wolves.
Dili Youjie had already divided the troops and placed trusted men among them. He came forward to report, and Li Zhouwei’s spiritual steed soon sprang into motion. The soldiers behind him surged forth like an orderly tide, plunging into the night toward the surrounding towns.
The small towns possessed few guards to begin with. Before they could even react, volleys of arrows shot through the air, felling the sentries. Several shamans swiftly scaled the walls, and the gates crashed open.
The running Shanyue muttered under their breath. Flares of smoke and fire ignited one after another across the towns in the night, and their battle cries grew louder and louder, gradually coalescing into a single roar:
“Dahe Mingfang!”
Li Zhouwei quickly reined in his horse and looked toward the stone tower at the settlement’s entrance. His troops swept silently into the town, surging through like water parting around reefs, engulfing the stockade with mute, frenzied vigor.
A cacophony of clamor rose in Li Zhouwei’s ears. Staring at the stone tower, a strange thought suddenly surfaced in his mind:
*‘I ought to be seated in a temple, enshrined upon an altar...’*
*‘That wretched woman plays tricks on me day after day!’*
Grey mist coalesced and settled beside him, bringing Li Wushao’s eerie voice. Li Zhouwei murmured, “Wushao is being overly cautious...”
He rode ahead of the crowd, stationed men to secure the town, and galloped toward the neighboring stockades. With another two to three hundred men joining his ranks, he strode briskly out of the stockade, leaving behind a ground drenched in blood.
He dispatched Chen Yang and Dili Youjie to lead separate forces to gather troops, while he spurred his horse forward without tarrying at the villages, heading swiftly toward the next mountain pass.
“Let us finish it in one breath.”
Li Zhouwei produced a map and examined it closely. Behind Chan Pass lay an open plain dotted with numerous stockades and a sizeable town. Beyond the plain lay Moonlight Valley, another formidable pass, behind which lay the remaining five towns and the Royal Court.
Two passes and six towns.
Back then, his ancestor Li Xiangping had been able to roam freely here, first because his party was small and hidden, and second because the region had been gripped by severe drought and newly ravaged by Jianixi, leaving the Shanyue territories in utter ruin.
Now, with thousands of troops under his command and control over Chan Pass—the very chokepoint that had once trapped Duke Xiangping in the north—he naturally pursued a different strategy. Li Zhouwei pondered for a few breaths and thought to himself:
*I shall seize this pass, then seek an opportunity to break through.*
Before he had arrived, a grey gust of wind had raced over and deposited two exquisite jade bottles in his hand, one azure and one white. Scanning them with his divine sense, he had quickly stowed them away. The valley before him was narrow, with troops stationed on both flanking mountains, and the pass nestled between them looked somewhat weathered and worn.
After pausing briefly before the valley as his troops drew into formation, Li Zhouwei lowered his head and asked a Shanyue soldier beside him:
“Is this Moonlight Valley?”
The Shanyue soldier bowed his head respectfully and answered:
“Reporting to the Great King, this place was once the territory of the Moonlight Tribe. It was named after the legendary Priestess Yuezhu. She was slain by an Eastlander during the great drought, yet it is still called Moonlight Valley.”
“So it is this place. She was slain by my ancestor.”
He leveled his long halberd, looked into the narrow valley before him, and murmured softly under his breath.
***
Northern Shanyue Royal Court.
Flames burned quietly in the stone braziers of the palace hall. Upon the throne of Northern Shanyue sat a lean, gaunt man with disheveled hair, holding a stone slab in his hands and gently tracing the glyphs carved upon it.
The King of Northern Shanyue, Xiandu, did not appear particularly imposing, and his name was merely an ordinary Shanyue moniker. Yet for him to sit securely on the throne amidst the nobility-ridden lands of Northern Shanyue, his methods were undoubtedly extraordinary. He quietly contemplated the stone slab in his hands.
Carved upon the slab was a grand, sweeping scene: a figure draped entirely in feathers and beast bones stood atop a sacrificial altar, while shifting clouds roiled in the sky above, where a demon fiend hovered in midair.
Beside him, the High Priest, clad in beast bones and plumage, knelt upon the floor. Xiandu stared blankly for a long while before asking:
“Has Mount Wu still not replied?”
“Reporting to the Great King, we have already attempted contact for the ninth time. We cannot reach them by any means, and there has been no response whatsoever.”
Xiandu’s lean face was filled with unease. He gently shook his head, set down the stone slab with care, and muttered in a low voice:
*Jiao Zhongzi has indeed run into trouble!*
The High Priest bowed his head subserviently, muttering inwardly:
*Great King, this might even be for the best... Our young ones won't have to ascend the mountain after breaking through to human shaman... Year after year, those who go up the mountain never return... They’ve likely all been refined by that lord.*
The High Priest shook his head quietly, showing little panic, and even sounded somewhat relieved as he replied:
“Since Mount Wu has not responded, perhaps Master Jiao Zhongzi and Master Mu Mili have journeyed out to the Eastern Sea. Would that not give us much breathing room?”
Xiandu rebuked him sharply:
“Where is your mind wandering? If something has happened to Master Jiao Zhongzi, that Li family running dog Li Jiman in Eastern Shanyue has been eyeing us like a tiger stalking its prey. From Dajueting to Chan Pass is less than a hundred li—two passes and six towns can be wiped out in the snap of a finger before a Foundation Establishment cultivator!”
“If something truly went wrong on Mount Wu... how many of us could escape? We might as well surrender to the Li family to save our lives...” the High Priest mumbled.
Xiandu could only shake his head with a bitter smile.
Neither Xiandu nor Li Jiman were incompetent rulers. Northern Shanyue and Eastern Shanyue had wrestled in secret for years, but as both were vassal states, neither dared launch an open war without orders.
While Xiandu was deep in thought, a Shanyue warrior rushed up into the hall, shouting:
“Great King! Something has happened at Chan Pass!”
Xiandu sprang from his throne as if struck by lightning, gritting his teeth:
“Has Li Jiman come? Or is it another contingent of the Li family’s troops?”
The Shanyue warrior was drenched in sweat and said in a hushed voice:
“Great King! When the Li family moved into Dajueting, several surrounding tribes were left with no way to survive, so they tricked open Chan Pass... The garrison commander, Du Dou, was captured and defected to them! They have now mobilized their troops northward and breached the pass!”
Xiandu let out a sigh of relief, murmuring:
“So it is merely a rebellion!”
Realizing that it was only an insurrection, the immense pressure weighing on his chest lifted considerably. At the very least, it meant that Mount Wu had not suffered an overt catastrophe yet; otherwise, the ones attacking would have been the Li family itself. He snapped:
“What is there to panic about? At most, he has two to three thousand men and a handful of shamans. What difference could they possibly make? Which tribe is leading them? Who is their chieftain? How many soldiers and cultivators do they have?!”
The man froze for a moment, then answered:
“The rebel king calls himself Dahe Mingfang... Perhaps they are from the Dahe Tribe. It is unknown how many troops they have, but word has it that they have covert support from the Dili tribe outside the pass.”
“The Dahe Tribe? Never heard of them! What kind of rubbish is that?”
As the lord of Northern Shanyue, Xiandu kept mental track of which clans had large followings, which held vast sway, and which possessed noble bloodlines and strong power. Even moderate and small tribes mostly had recognizable names. Yet scouring his mind, he could recall no clan bearing such a title.
Xiandu’s brow furrowed tightly. He did not fear a few thousand men, but the Dili tribe was largely under Li family governance; he could not be sure whether they were acting under covert instructions from Li Jiman.
The Shanyue warrior prostrated himself and added:
“However, it is rumored that this person rivals Jianixi of old! The Great King must proceed with caution!”
“This Dahe Mingfang... claims to have received authorization from Mount Wu... He falsely declares that the Great King has lost contact with Mount Wu... and demands that the Great King... demands that the Great King...”
Xiandu was suddenly seized by a jolt of alarm. Mount Wu had indeed gone far too long without sending anyone down. Seeing the man stammering, Xiandu understood his implicit meaning all too well, yet kept his silence.
*Mount Wu has not sent emissaries down for too long, and the domestic nobles are already growing restless... They want to use his mouth to probe Mount Wu’s condition!*
Xiandu swiftly recognized this as a subtle prompt from the nobility. Yet, forcing himself to appear composed, he said in a heavy voice:
“It is merely a minor disturbance. Why alarm Mount Wu? If we incur their displeasure, how could you or I bear the blame! Wait until this king suppresses the revolt!”
He strode down the steps and kicked the burly man. The Shanyue general scrambled up from the floor. Xiandu possessed peak Embryonic Breathing cultivation and had suppressed his breakthrough for a long time; his strength was formidable among those of the same realm. That single kick left the general breathless and terrified.
Rebuked by the king, the Shanyue general broke out in a cold sweat and kowtowed repeatedly:
“Your subject spoke out of turn!”
Hearing that the enemy had easily tricked open Chan Pass, Xiandu already knew his adversary was no ordinary figure. Turning back to glance at the map, he silently gave up on the towns behind the pass, his gaze coming to rest upon Moonlight Valley.
Donning his armor and grasping his spear, Xiandu descended swiftly from the royal hall, his thoughts racing as he commanded in a deep voice:
“Mobilize the army at once! I shall lead the expedition personally to Moonlight Valley to block him outside our hinterlands.”
“Order Xian Zhunfu to lead two thousand warriors down along the lake via the eastern route and probe entering the pass along the valley flank. I shall lead one thousand elite royal guards to reinforce Moonlight Valley directly. So long as we hold that place, no great harm can befall us!”
Chapter 506