Capital City.
Imperial Palace.
Hall of Central Awareness.
For the past few months, the Regent Prince Cao Huan and the cabinet officials had been living almost entirely within this hall—eating, drinking, and sleeping here, never daring to take a single step away.
The western war was of utmost importance. If anything went wrong, the Great Sheng Dynasty could face a three-front siege and complete collapse.
It had been several months since the White Robe had been summoned from Liangzhou.
The last message they received from Jiazhou reported that the White Robe led the full army across the river to reinforce Yunduan Prefecture, where he was forced to fight a decisive battle outside the city.
Throughout the campaign, there had been multiple clashes between the two sides, yet no clear victory had been decided.
Then came the final confrontation—170,000 Great Sheng troops against 350,000 from the Western Qi Kingdom.
They had not rested for several days, waiting anxiously in the palace for news to arrive.
"Report—!"
"Urgent dispatch from Jiazhou—!"
At last, the long-awaited cry echoed through the hall.
"How is it?!"
Cao Huan sprang from his seat. "What's the result?!"
All eyes turned toward the messenger, filled with both dread and hope.
"Your Highness!"
The officer knelt, presenting the battle report with both hands. "Grand Commmander Chen fought the Western Qi army outside Yunduan Prefecture. After several fierce exchanges, both sides suffered heavy casualties. The armies have now ceased hostilities, and our forces have withdrawn back into Yunduan Prefecture to hold position."
"Both sides took losses?"
Cao Huan and the officials—Ming Qingfeng, Yin Mingchun, and others—read the scroll one by one.
The mood in the room grew heavier.
"So, even Chen Sanshi didn't win?"
This was a first.
Even when the White Robe himself took command, victory had not come swiftly.
"To remain undefeated is already remarkable," said Cao Zhi, voice solemn. "A force of 170,000 against 350,000, fighting head-on across open plains—and the enemy has both the 'War Immortal' Han Xiang and cultivators above the Martial Saint realm. Under those conditions, to remain unbroken… who else could manage it?"
Even the Minister of War, Ming Qingfeng, had to nod in agreement.
But that didn't solve the problem at hand.
"What now?" someone muttered. "If this stalemate drags on, our grain reserves won't last much longer."
The Minister of Revenue stepped forward, holding a stack of ledgers. "In the past three years, many western prefectures have faced repeated harvest failures. Most of the military grain now comes from the east. The distance is immense, the roads rough and mountainous. Out of every ten stones of grain, by the time it reaches the front, only one stone remains. Losses reach ninety percent before arrival."
"Then… should we negotiate peace?"
The Minister of Personnel, Yin Mingchun, spoke carefully. "If we really have no choice, perhaps we could cede the lands west of Mount Mang?"
"Absurd!"
Cao Huan's voice cracked like thunder. "When has the Great Sheng ever ceded land or paid tribute to an enemy?!"
"Please calm yourself, Your Highness!"
The Minister of Revenue bowed deeply. "This old servant only speaks from the treasury's perspective. If Grand Commmander Chen cannot secure victory soon, the army will run out of grain.
"When that happens, the remaining 150,000 troops will crumble.
"And by then, even peace talks may no longer be possible."
"Your Highness," said Ming Qingfeng, stepping forward, "this matter is too grave. I advise informing His Majesty immediately. Whether we continue fighting or open peace talks, only the Emperor himself can decide."
"Ming," said Cao Huan, pressing his fingers to his forehead, "come with me. We'll go to the Palace of Longevity."
Escorted by guards, the two made their way there swiftly—but were stopped at the gates.
"Eunuch Huang?" Ming Qingfeng frowned. "We have urgent state matters to report to His Majesty. Please announce us."
"His Majesty is currently receiving an honored guest," the eunuch said, his arm barring the entrance like a steel bar. "The Prince and the Minister must wait."
Within the Palace of Longevity—by the lake in the rear garden, beneath the cool autumn breeze—a pavilion stood quietly amid rippling reflections.
"Many thanks for Your Majesty's hospitality."
A middle-aged cultivator sipped his tea distractedly before setting the cup down. "I wonder when Your Majesty will give me an explanation?"
Emperor Longqing placed his teacup aside, speaking with calm poise. "Are you certain it's not a case of mistaken identity? That it's the same man?"
"I'm certain," said Li He, his tone firm. "Both are martial cultivators. And this Chen Sanshi, whom Your Majesty appointed to command troops, happens to be the personal disciple of Sun Xiangzong, the Guardian Envoy of Dongsheng Divine Continent. How could I be mistaken?
"Your Majesty—no, allow me to call you Emperor.
"One of your subjects—this Chen Sanshi—massacred several of my Deacon Hall's law enforcers at Daze Market, including a member of my Li family who possessed an upper-grade spiritual root!
"Shouldn't Your Majesty offer me an explanation?"
"Daoist Li He," said Emperor Longqing, his expression as still as deep water, "what sort of explanation are you seeking?"
"It's simple," Li He replied coldly. "Hand him over. I'll take him back to Daze Market and execute him publicly—to warn those rogue cultivators and uphold the Li family's authority."
Emperor Longqing's tone turned faintly cold. "Daoist Li He, surely you know that Chen Sanshi is currently commanding the front lines. I only recently dispatched him to lead the army."
"So what?!" Li He's voice rose sharply. "The one he killed may have been labeled as 'ordinary talent,' but in truth, he possessed a rare variant spiritual root! My Li family has only produced one such descendant in a hundred years—do you expect me to simply let that go?!"
"The life and death of my subjects," Emperor Longqing said evenly, "is not for outsiders to decide. This matter shall be noted. Once the war concludes, I will make arrangements."
His voice remained calm, but the pressure within it swelled like rolling thunder—the dragon's might of an emperor seeping into every word. "If Daoist Li He has nothing further, you may leave."
"So that's it, then?"
Li He shot to his feet, fury flashing in his eyes. "If Your Majesty won't hand him over—then I'll take him myself!"
He was just about to soar into the sky when a blade of light appeared before him. The Dragon Abyss Sword had silently left its sheath, hanging three inches from his face, its killing intent sharp enough to pierce the soul.
"Cao Kai!"
Li He roared in outrage. "What do you think you're doing?!"
Emperor Longqing—wearing his plain Daoist robe—didn't answer. He turned away, his figure drifting lightly through the autumn wind until he vanished into the distance.
By the lake, only the eunuchs of the Western Bureau, cultivators of the Incense God Path, remained.
"Immortal Master Li," one of them said softly.
Chief Eunuch Huang Hong, holder of the Imperial Seal of the Directorate of Ceremonial Supervision, stepped forward and explained calmly, "The battle in Jiazhou concerns the ancestral leyline of Mount Mang. There can be no mistakes, not even half a step's worth. This is also the decree of the Upper Sect—Shengyun Sect. Whatever grievances there are, they can be addressed after the war."
"What?"
Li He narrowed his eyes. "So this mighty Great Sheng Dynasty, with all its countless officials and cultivators, can only depend on one man, Chen Sanshi, to fight your wars? You, crippled eunuch—get out of my way, or don't blame me for what happens next!"
"Immortal Master Li,"
Despite the insult, Huang Hong didn't show a trace of anger. He bowed slightly, voice courteous yet firm. "This is not Daze Market. His Majesty has received you with full courtesy, already showing the Li family great respect. If Immortal Master Li continues to press the issue, then do not blame us for being discourteous. As for Chen Sanshi's matter—regardless of victory or defeat—His Majesty will handle it after the war ends."
"Well, well…" Li He's jaw clenched. "A mere mortal emperor dares to act this arrogantly?"
If not for the sealing restrictions placed upon his cultivation, his Li clan could have wiped this entire royal family from existence with a single wave of the hand.
But now—
Staring at the Dragon Abyss Sword, still hovering motionless before his face, Li He had no choice but to swallow his rage—for now.
"Fine! I'll wait!"
"I'll wait until the war ends. Then we'll see what your 'old emperor' dares to say!"
Inside the Palace of Longevity, Emperor Longqing entered the main hall.
Old Minister Yan Liang was already seated on a wooden bench, waiting.
"You heard all of that?"
Longqing brushed his sleeve and sat upon the dragon throne. His brow twitched slightly, imperial fury flickering beneath his composed exterior.
"Chen Sanshi has indeed committed the crime of deceiving the throne."
Yan Liang's voice was aged and hoarse. "He must have already learned from Sun Xiangzong the way into the Immortal Realm. Now that he possesses the Mirror God Fruit, and with the Dragon Scripture in his hands, he's likely close to stepping into the True Force Realm. Once he reaches that stage, with his martial mastery, aside from Your Majesty, there will be no one in the world capable of restraining him."
"Zhen treated Sanshi with sincerity," Longqing murmured, eyes closed, voice low but sharp with pain. "Why must he deceive me?
"To the outside world, I must protect the Great Sheng's foundation, contend with the so-called immortals. Within, I must still guard against my own ministers' deceit and betrayal!"
"Your Majesty, please quell your anger," Yan Liang said softly. "Your Majesty bears the body of a sage—an emperor destined for ten thousand years of prosperity—shouldering the lands of one capital and thirty-six prefectures. Were it not for Your Majesty, this empire would have already fallen apart. The burden is immense; it's natural to feel its weight."
"Enough," Longqing said quietly. "You and I have no need for empty flattery."
He looked up, eyes cold as still water. "Since Chen Sanshi deceived his emperor, what punishment do you deem appropriate?"
Yan Liang bowed his head, thinking carefully. "With the enemy at our gates, any move against the commander would cause an immeasurable blow to morale. The front is already at a deadlock—it would be best not to act rashly for now.
"For the moment, let Chen Sanshi continue commanding at the front. If he recaptures Mount Mang, summon him to the capital for audience. If he loses the battle—then we shall hold him accountable."
"How fares the front now?" Longqing asked.
"Just this morning," Yan Liang replied, "we received new reports. The 'War Immortal' Han Xiang from Western Qi is evenly matched with Chen Sanshi. Their armies at Yunduan Prefecture are still locked in stalemate—neither side victorious nor defeated."
"Evenly matched?"
Longqing's pupils darkened. "Neither victory nor defeat—yet you call that evenly matched?"
"Your Majesty means…"
Yan Liang's voice turned cautious. "That Chen Sanshi may be deliberately prolonging the battle—to buy time until he opens all the Mirror Gods and breaks through beyond the Martial Saint Realm?
"I, too, find it strange.
"With such massive armies clashing on open plains, how could both sides remain so unscathed?
"Of course, it's possible they truly are equals—two masters whose skills cancel one another out.
"But to be certain, Your Majesty could issue an imperial military edict, ordering him to determine victory as soon as possible. Then we shall see how he acts."
"Mm."
Longqing nodded slightly. "Do it. And if he truly cannot win, contact the Fallen Leaf Valley behind Western Qi. Zhen will not allow this dynasty to be beholden to any sect—not even Shengyun Sect."
"Your servant obeys."
——
Yunduan Prefecture, barren hills.
Chen Sanshi wielded the Dragon Gall Silver Spear, his breathing aligned with the Fire-Walking Breathing Method. Under the blessings of the Dragon Scripture, divine lights stirred within his body, each ancient god within him awakening one after another, until a faint spiritual radiance shimmered across his skin.
Mirror God—Skin God!
Name: Tong Zhongzhong, styled Daolian, height one inch one fen, clad in yellow robes.
Technique: Dragon Scripture (Uninitiated)
Progress: 37/100
Since retreating to Yunduan Prefecture, more than a month had passed. Day and night, he trained without pause, striving to reach the True Force Realm as quickly as possible.
Both sides were likely to bring in additional Martial Saint-level reinforcements soon.
Only by strengthening himself could he increase their odds of survival.
During the battle on the wasteland, he had already exposed his storage bag and talismans. With Daze Market likely spreading wanted orders across the Dongsheng Divine Continent, it was only a matter of time before the court learned he had been to the Immortal Realm.
But some things—
Were impossible to hide forever.
Because he would never stop cultivating.
Once he broke through to the True Force Realm, or even higher, how could he possibly explain the origin of all his heavenly treasures?
Claim he'd picked them up off the ground?
Eventually, his lies would collapse.
And that day was not far away.
Since it couldn't be concealed, why keep pretending?
Everything he had—this inheritance—was left by his master. It wasn't stolen or robbed. His earlier restraint had been due to weakness. But once he reached the True Force Realm, once he had power enough to protect himself—why not stand upright and unafraid?
"Boom—!"
Just as Chen Sanshi drew back his spear, a loud crash erupted from the nearby woods. Trees toppled in a wide arc, shaking the ground.
A figure leaped out—Wang Zhi, eyes shining with excitement. "Ha! I've finally broken through to Martial Saint! Well? How long till you surpass even that, eh?"
"Not sure," Chen Sanshi replied evenly. "A mortal body corroded by impure qi for too long takes time to reawaken the hidden secrets within. It's a slow process. Can't be rushed."
"Is that so?"
Wang Zhi frowned in confusion. "But I heard that the Prince of Zhen'nan, Cao Rong, already reached the True Force Realm through the Dragon Scripture—and that was just a few months ago!"
"So fast?"
Chen Sanshi's thoughts had been entirely on the battlefield. He hadn't kept track of events in the south.
"That's right." Wang Zhi grinned, puffing out his chest. "Word is—he's already awakened two Mirror Gods by now…"
Wang Zhi scratched his head and said, "Has Fourth Brother lost his mind? He actually handed over Master's Dragon Scripture to the court? But then again, given how things were back then, if he hadn't, the court wouldn't have let us stay behind to keep mourning our master."
He sighed. "Come to think of it, it's already been over a year. Once this battle ends, who knows what we're supposed to do next? And with Fourth Brother still in the capital—if we don't follow the imperial edict, won't that put him in danger?"
A sharp cry split the air above them.
"Chiu—"
A bluebird circled overhead, its call echoing through the sky.
"There must be something urgent at camp."
Chen Sanshi turned and headed back to the military camp.
Inside the central command tent, a eunuch was already waiting, standing stiffly beside the war table.
"Grand Commmander Chen of Northern Liang," he announced, holding up a sealed decree, "by imperial order—food supplies at the rear are dangerously low, and enemy movements are pressing on all sides. You are commanded to secure victory against Western Qi and reclaim the two lost prefectures before winter arrives."
"Before winter?"
Chen Sanshi frowned. "Isn't that… too soon?"
"Lord Chen," the eunuch said in a thin, sharp voice, setting the decree in Chen Sanshi's hand, "no one denies the hardship of your efforts on the front line. But the court too is struggling beyond endurance. His Highness Prince Jing has gone half-gray since the war began, and the cabinet officials haven't left court day or night. Everyone bears heavy pressure, Lord Chen. We ask for your understanding."
Chen Sanshi had expected this before the war even started—the food strain was immense. He knew that if the stalemate dragged on, neither side would last much longer.
But the issue of supplies was not theirs alone.
The Western Qi army suffered from the same shortage.
Their situation was hardly better.
At this stage, the best option was still to delay—to wait and watch.
First secure oneself an unshakable position, then wait for the enemy's weakness to appear.
The more desperate one side grew, the more likely they would expose flaws.
Even with the court's anxiety mounting, he couldn't allow his command decisions to be dictated by their impatience.
"I've delivered the decree," the eunuch continued, lowering his tone as if offering counsel. "The court trusts Lord Chen's ability—that's why they brought you across a thousand li to command the western front. Please, do not let them down."
"I understand."
Chen Sanshi accepted the decree without further argument.
When a general is on campaign, the emperor's command is not absolute.
Just as it was at Mount Wolf Juxu—in war, the commander's own judgment mattered most, not interference from afar.
After dismissing the eunuch, Chen Sanshi climbed the city walls.
Below him stretched the bleak plains, the Western Qi camp sprawling across the horizon.
He asked, "Any movement from the enemy these past few days?"
"None so far," Tong Xiaochu replied. "According to scout reports, they're holding formation in their camp. But the longer they stay quiet, the more uneasy I get. That Han Xiang must be plotting something big."
Chen Sanshi raised his hand.
Without needing words, Xia Cong, always at his side, unfurled the massive battle map before him.
In war, true insight came from thinking as the enemy would.
If he were Han Xiang—what would he do to break this stalemate?
"Sizhou Prefecture."
Chen Sanshi's fingertip pressed onto the map, over a heavily fortified city. "Who's commanding there?"
"Commander Ni Shikui," Tong Xiaochu replied. "Three generations of loyal court officials. He himself is at the Major Achievement stage of the Meridian-Connecting Realm, and he commands 4,000 troops, guarding the grain supply routes. It's our largest central grain depot."
Halfway through his report, Tong suddenly froze, realizing the implication. "Grand Commmander… you suspect Ni Shikui might rebel?"
Under normal circumstances, he would never have believed it. But after Lishi Prefecture and Ma Zhen's betrayal, he dared not take anything lightly.
"Wang Jun,"
Chen Sanshi ordered calmly, "send one mid-stage Qi Refining cultivator to investigate. If there's anything unusual—execute him on the spot."
"Understood."
Wang Jun nodded, then asked, "What about the other regions? Could there be more potential traitors? I've heard there are still plenty of small garrisons scattered across Jiazhou. They don't have much strength individually, but if they turn at once, it could be disastrous."
"There will be,"
Chen Sanshi said quietly. "There are too many to check one by one. We'll have to wait until a fire breaks out before we can put it out. And if things spiral out of control… then we'll have no choice but to retreat."
"Retreat?"
Teng Le stiffened. "Grand Commmander, you mean abandon Yunduan Prefecture? Fall back east of the Luo River? If we do that, they could cross the river and strike straight into the heart of Jiazhou!"
"I understand what the Grand Commmander means," Tong Xiaochu said quickly. "If our army stays at Yunduan Prefecture, the rear will remain weak and prone to chaos. Only by pulling back can we stabilize the interior and suppress the rebels."
"But…" Teng Le hesitated. "The court envoy just came today, ordering us to secure a swift victory. If we retreat, wouldn't that be disobeying the throne?"
"I am the commander-in-chief," Chen Sanshi said evenly. "All military orders come from me. Whatever happens, it's on my head—not yours."
He rested both hands on the cold stone of the battlements, eyes fixed on the distant horizon. "Just carry out my orders."
"This…"
Tong Xiaochu and the others exchanged uneasy looks. They dared not disobey, yet feared the retreat might trigger unrest. Still, they could only obey.
Chen Sanshi could already see it clearly—the coming waves of rebellion that would soon sweep across Jiazhou.
In war between nations, spies and traitors always moved first.
It was common among foreign enemies—but even more so among the Eastern Qing, Great Sheng, Southern Xu, and Western Qi. Once war began, countless opportunists would watch the wind and switch allegiance.
Whoever seemed likely to win—that's who they'd serve.
Especially among the noble families and cultivation sects.
In some regions, their influence even outweighed that of the imperial court.
And the temptation offered by "Immortal Masters" was far greater than anything a mortal dynasty could promise.
Chen Sanshi was certain—if they piled up all the letters secretly exchanged between these people and Western Qi, the stack would form a small mountain.
Before the defeat at Yiling, the noble families had sworn loyalty to the Great Sheng.
After Yiling fell, they began to waver.
When the army crumbled, some started reaching out in secret.
After the battle on the wasteland, more began to turn.
If they suffered another defeat, the entire province would collapse into chaos.
That was why—even if they retreated—they couldn't afford to lose another drop of blood.
Of course…
The Great Sheng Dynasty had also been secretly sending people to bribe and win over generals from the Western Qi army. But since Western Qi had been "riding the wind all the way to victory," the replies were few and scattered—though not entirely absent.
Traitors were never in short supply.
"Grand Commmander," said Tong Xiaochu, "two of them have written back recently. They're asking for noble titles and gold. One even asked whether, if his children possess spiritual roots, they could be granted the chance to cultivate for immortality. I'll keep corresponding with them."
——
Western Qi army, Central Command Tent.
"Immortal Master!"
Zhong Wuxin burst into the tent, his face pale with alarm. "Something's happened—Ni Shikui's secret letters were discovered by a Sheng Dynasty cultivator. He didn't even have time to sabotage the grain routes before he was killed."
"In that case…"
Han Xiang alternated between black and white stones, his fingers gliding over the board as he dropped several pieces. "Let it bloom everywhere."
——
Inside Yunduan Prefecture.
"Grand Commmander, bad news!"
"Seven Absolutes Sect of Chuixi Prefecture has raised troops in rebellion!"
"Wenshan Prefecture's commander just attacked the grain convoys!"
"Jingtan Prefecture is marching in our direction with their full army!"
Within just half a month, news of rebellion poured into Yunduan Prefecture one after another.
"Chu Shixiong, take 5,000 men and suppress the rebels in Chuixi Prefecture."
"Wang Zhi, lead 8,000 troops to Wenshan Prefecture—restore the grain routes within 10 days, no excuses."
"Wang Jun, march straight to Jingtan Prefecture and execute the traitor in command."
Chen Sanshi gave his orders calmly, one after another.
These rebellions were small and disorganized. Their forces weren't strong, and usually capturing the rebel leader was enough to settle the matter.
But even so, rebellion was like a spreading disease—it couldn't be allowed to grow unchecked.
Chen Sanshi's eyes hardened. "Wei Xuan, Song Guizhi, you two will remain in Yunduan Prefecture with 20,000 elite troops to hold the rear. Everyone else, begin full withdrawal. Abandon the six western prefectures of Jiazhou. We'll fall back and defend from Gongdu Region's Gengyang Prefecture."
"Abandon that much land?!"
Tong Xiaochu's face turned pale, his hair standing on end. "How are we supposed to explain that to the court?"
"Retreat again?!"
Qu Yuanxiang slammed his wine jar to the floor, shattering it. "Chen, your emperor sent you here to push through to Mount Mang, not to run away!
"If you can't do it, let me take command instead!
"You can retreat all you want!"
"Bang—!"
Wang Zhi shot up from his seat, slamming the table. "Qu Yuanxiang, if you're looking to die, just say it!"
"Well said!"
Chu Shixiong and the other officers chimed in, slapping their armor in agreement.
To them, these arrogant "Immortal Masters" were nothing but trouble. They'd rather stand with their own commander. "Before our Grand Commmander came, you were already here—and what happened? You lost everything, didn't you?!"
"If not for our Hongze Battalion rushing over, you'd have been wiped out long ago!"
"Qu Yuanxiang."
Wei Xuan narrowed his eyes. "In war, you obey the chain of command. You've spoken out of turn against the commander again and again. If not for your status as a cultivator, you'd have lost your head eight times over already."
"Bullshit! You're the ones disobeying orders!"
Qu Yuanxiang snapped back, voice sharp with fury. "The imperial decree is clear—'decisive battle, as soon as possible!' Yet you're retreating? What's there to discuss? Forget it! I'll go speak to your emperor myself!"
With that, he drew his sword and flew off into the sky, streaking away on his sword light.
The army began to retreat in an orderly fashion according to Chen Sanshi's command.
——
Western Qi Central Command.
"Immortal Master!"
Gong Yu galloped up to the tent, leaping off his horse before it stopped. "As you predicted—Chen Sanshi has begun retreating east of the Luo River! What are your orders?"
"When the enemy retreats, we advance."
Han Xiang smiled faintly and swept the black chess stones from the board. "Transmit my command. The whole army will cross the river by detour—avoid engagement while they're mid-crossing—and then push straight into Jiazhou's heartland!"
"No problem. But…"
Zhong Wuxin hesitated, his face grave. "Immortal Master, our food supply pressure is rising fast. Once Sheng's troops retreat, they'll burn the fields behind them. If we advance deeper, our consumption will multiply. A long war won't favor us."
"No matter how heavy the burden, we must endure it."
Han Xiang's tone was calm but unyielding. "We don't need to annihilate them. All we have to do is force them out of Gongdu. Once that happens, the Sheng Dynasty will never recover the west again. And as for food…"
He pulled out a thick ledger filled with numbers, his voice steady as he flipped through the pages. "The Western Qi realm has 32 prefectures, each with one capital city. I've already calculated every detail—how many people, how much farmland, and how much grain each region can produce.
"If the imperial granaries run short, we'll requisition directly from the commoners. And if that's still not enough—we'll take it from the noble clans."
"Force requisition?"
Zhong Wuxin frowned. "But the past few years have been hard across Great Qi. We've mobilized 400,000 soldiers, plus nearly 1 million laborers for logistics. That's already pushing the limits of our grain supply. If we keep taking more, won't that risk rebellion in the rear?"
"Just keep collecting."
Han Xiang smiled faintly, utterly confident. "I've already written down each region's maximum grain threshold. As long as the people don't starve to death, there won't be any uprising."
Zhong Wuxin flipped through the pages. Each number chilled him to the core.
The so-called "War Immortal" they'd invited from the cultivation world had calculated everything down to the grain. On the ledger, it stated exactly how much food an adult needed each day to not starve to death.
All they had to do was take just enough to keep people barely alive. There wouldn't be rebellion in the short term—and by the time starvation began to bite, the war would already be over.
"I'll send this to Great Qi immediately."
Zhong Wuxin bowed and left in haste.
Moments after he departed, another cultivator entered the tent carrying a sealed letter. "Senior Brother Han, the Sheng Dynasty's court has sent a message. They wish to negotiate—with our Fallen Leaf Valley."
"Oh?"
Han Xiang took the letter in his hand, eyes narrowing slightly.
The situation between the two armies had shifted once again.
The Great Sheng Army had fully retreated to Guandu.
After Western Qi crossed the river, they too encamped around Guandu.
The deployment of hundreds of thousands of troops on both sides consumed enormous time and effort.
One move after another—before anyone realized it, nearly two months had quietly passed.
Chen Sanshi, meanwhile, had hit another small bottleneck.
After days and nights of relentless cultivation, his eyes gleamed with divine light, glowing faintly in the darkness.
The fourth of the Upper Eight Mirror Gods had awakened—
Eye God, named Ling Jiansheng, styled Daotong, three cun and five fen tall, wearing blue robes!
Technique: Dragon Scripture (Uninitiated)
Progress: 48/100
——
Capital City, Central Zhongjue Hall.
"Report—!"
"Chen Sanshi has retreated 800 li!"
"What did you say?!"
Prince Jing, Cao Huan, snatched the war report from the messenger's hands and shouted, "Didn't the Ministry of War just issue an order—telling him to force a decisive battle at Yunduan Prefecture, to reclaim Mount Mang at all costs? Why is he retreating instead of advancing?!"
"This is bad," Yan Maoxing pointed at the sand table, face grim. "If we retreat beyond Guandu, we'll have to abandon the whole of Jiazhou. And if Jiazhou falls, the entire western region of the Great Sheng will be lost!"
"We can't retreat any further!"
"What in heaven's name is Chen Sanshi doing?!"
"Don't panic," said Minister of War Ming Qingfeng, bent over the military map, his voice calm. "The fortresses around Guandu form a chain of mutual defense and are extremely solid. Once he retreats there, the defensive pressure will drop drastically. For the short term, he shouldn't need to retreat again. But as for counterattacking…" He exhaled softly. "That will be as hard as reaching the heavens."
"And that's exactly the problem!"
Minister of Revenue Tian Guang stomped his foot. "This move means Chen intends to fight a war of attrition. How much grain can we possibly spare for that?!"
——
At that same moment, inside the Palace of Longevity, Eunuch Huang Hong was reporting the situation to the emperor.
Behind the curtain, silence reigned.
After a long pause, it was Grand Secretary Yan Liang who finally broke the quiet. "Then we must issue another decree."
——
Guandu.
"Grand Commmander!"
"An imperial order from the capital!"
The kneeling officer held up the sealed scroll.
Sitting cross-legged, Chen Sanshi didn't even reach for it. "The court is urging me to attack again?"
"Yes, sir," Xia Cong replied honestly. "Grain losses are too high. The Ministry of War commands us to launch an offensive within ten days, or you'll be held accountable before the throne."
"Tell the capital," Chen Sanshi said evenly, "the time for battle has not yet come."
——
In the blink of an eye, another month slipped by.
It was now the dead of winter. Across most of the Central Plains, heavy snow blanketed the land.
Even Jiazhou was silent beneath white frost.
——
Central Zhongjue Hall.
"Report—!"
"Jiazhou remains in stalemate!"
"For the past two months, only small cavalry skirmishes have occurred. Aside from a few minor clashes, there's been no progress at all!"
"What are we supposed to do now?"
Ming Qingfeng, hands clasped behind his back, paced anxiously across the hall. He turned to a crimson-robed official. "Lord Tian, how long can our grain stores last?"
"At most five months!" Tian Guang, Minister of Revenue, answered solemnly. "The eastern and southern armies both demand supplies too—pull one thread and the whole web moves. After five months, there'll be no surplus left for the west. When that time comes…"
He hesitated, lowering his voice. "Lord Chen will have no choice but to abandon Jiazhou entirely. The six western prefectures will be gone for good."
"We can't drag this out any longer!"
Ming Qingfeng slammed his palm on the table, shouting to the scribes below, "Send another order—urge him again! Keep pressing him!"
——
Palace of Longevity.
Qu Yuanxiang, reeking of wine and clutching a gourd, stumbled to the entrance but was barred by guards.
He roared angrily toward the inner chambers. "Emperor! I heard your grain's running out! Do you have any idea what will happen once Mount Mang is lost?
"When the time comes and the ancestral vein awakens, the world's seal will collapse from within!
"Then the sect occupying the ancestral vein—Fallen Leaf Valley—will set up teleportation arrays and descend upon the Eastern Divine Continent!
"Western Qi helped them take that land. Afterward, Lingji Cave will join them to destroy you, letting Western Qi unify the world!
"Your Great Sheng Dynasty will be no more!
"And as for your Foundation Establishment Pill, forget it! It's over! You're all useless—every last one of you is trash!"
Outside, chaos echoed; inside, silence prevailed.
Emperor Longqing was not present.
At a round table, Grand Secretary Yan Liang sat opposite a robed cultivator.
The emissary from Fallen Leaf Valley, Zhu Gui, sneered faintly. "Your emperor won't even come meet me himself? Isn't that a bit lacking in sincerity?"
"The Emperor is in seclusion, recovering from his illness."
Yan Liang gestured for Eunuch Huang Hong to pour tea for the visiting cultivator. His frail, aged voice carried calmly across the room. "His Majesty has appointed me as his envoy to negotiate with your esteemed sect."
"You?"
Zhu Gui looked doubtful. "And your word actually counts?"
"Of course it does."
Yan Liang lifted his sleeve slightly. "The negotiations will take place here, in His Majesty's own Palace of Longevity. Whatever is agreed upon here will be equivalent to the Emperor's personal consent—there will be no reversal, no denial."
Zhu Gui's lips twisted into a mocking grin, the contempt in his voice barely concealed. "Old man, you're pitiful. A mortal well past your prime, yet you still come out here to take the blame for your emperor. I heard about your so-called Ten Days of Yunzhou. You were the one sent to talk with the barbarian tribes and the ancient demons back then, weren't you?
"Tsk, tsk… when things go wrong again, you'll be the first to die."
Yan Liang didn't rise to the bait. "I am His Majesty's subject. As a servant of the throne, it is my duty to shoulder his burdens."
He smoothly redirected the topic. "Immortal Master, let's speak frankly. If your sect provides a single Foundation Establishment Pill, the Great Sheng will withdraw our armies immediately and relinquish the three western prefectures—including Mount Mang itself."
"You should have done that from the start."
Zhu Gui's tone was cold and sharp. "Now that you realize you can't win, you come crawling for negotiations? Isn't it too late for that? Even if we refuse, you'll run out of grain in a few months and have to retreat from Jiazhou anyway. Why should we waste a precious Foundation Pill for nothing? Even our Fallen Leaf Valley has a limited number of those."
"Immortal Master Zhu, that's not quite right."
Yan Liang shook his head slowly. "It's true the western campaign has been lost. But… what if we joined forces with Nan Xu?"
At those words, Zhu Gui's expression stiffened.
Yan Liang continued evenly, pressing his advantage. "Surely you know—your Fallen Leaf Valley isn't the only one coveting the ancestral vein. Lingji Cave, which stands behind Nan Xu, has had its eyes on that prize for a long time. If we decide to bring Nan Xu into the war, unite our armies with theirs… the Great Sheng will suffer losses, yes, but the whole situation will descend into chaos.
"And then, securing the spiritual vein won't be so easy for your sect, will it?"
Zhu Gui said nothing.
It was an undeniable truth.
"So then…"
Yan Liang's old voice carried the weight of inevitability. "The choice is simple. Either you trade one Foundation Pill for a guaranteed hold on the ancestral vein—or you push too far and force both sides into ruin, letting Lingji Cave claim all the spoils. I trust your sect knows which is wiser."
"Cruel and cunning."
Zhu Gui sneered under his breath. After a pause, he took out a Ten-Thousand-Mile Transmission Talisman, repeating Yan Liang's words verbatim to Han Xiang, who was overseeing the entire affair.
Before long, a response came through.
"Senior Brother Han says—no problem.
"One Foundation Pill in exchange for the ancestral vein—deal.
"But… there's one more condition."
"What condition?"
Yan Liang's tone sank. "Speak, Immortal Master."
"I want the lives of 150,000 people."
The words struck like thunder.
Yan Liang froze. His frail hands trembled; the teacup slipped and shattered on the floor with a brittle crack, scattering shards across the polished stone. "Which one hundred fifty thousand?" he demanded hoarsely.
"Your army at Guandu, of course."
Zhu Gui's tone was flat and merciless. "As Lord Yan just said, there's always a risk you might collaborate with Nan Xu and their backers from Lingji Cave. So, Senior Brother Han decided—better to remove the possibility entirely. Once those 150,000 troops are gone, you'll have no ally left to turn to.
"Fifteen thousand times ten—it's a fair price for a single Foundation Pill, don't you think?
"Your old emperor has decent talent. If he forms a Golden Core someday, he'll be a true powerhouse.
"And besides… you've done worse.
"During the Ten Days of Yunzhou, didn't you kill over a million? What's another hundred fifty thousand soldiers to you?"
"That is the Great Sheng's army!"
Yan Liang's voice cracked, anger finally breaking through the calm. He lurched to his feet, but his aged body failed him; he nearly fell backward if not for Eunuch Huang Hong, who rushed forward to steady him.
He gasped for breath before managing to speak again. "A-and those are trained soldiers, not unarmed civilians! How can we slaughter them so easily? Mishandled, it could spark a full rebellion—how could that possibly benefit anyone?"
"Simple," Zhu Gui said smoothly. "Senior Brother Han already has the perfect solution."
He motioned for a map and spread it open across the table.
"Look here—Wujun, Dounan, and Guangyuan. These three prefectural cities lie directly behind Guandu. If we occupy them, we can cut off the Guandu army's retreat entirely. Once the grain runs out, your 150,000 troops will be trapped with nowhere to go. Naturally, they'll be wiped out."
Yan Liang coughed violently, nearly choking on air. "Those three cities lie in the very heartland of Great Sheng! There are no foreign enemies there! Who would occupy them? Are you suggesting we… attack our own people?"
"That's easy enough."
Zhu Gui smirked. "We'll send a few of our disciples disguised as your men, pretending to rebel and defect to Western Qi. No one will know the difference. The plan will go off flawlessly—and your court's reputation will remain untarnished.
"I've said what I came to say.
"If you refuse, then let the war continue.
"You know better than I do how that will end.
"So make your choice, and make it quick."
Yan Liang's chest rose and fell in ragged breaths. He turned his gaze toward the depths of the Palace of Longevity, as if waiting for some unseen signal.
Then—
Dong—
A single clear chime of the bronze bell echoed through the palace halls.
That one sound sealed the fate of 150,000 soldiers on the front lines—
Including the man in the white robe.
Death to the White Robe.
Along with every one of those 150,000 souls.
Yan Liang closed his eyes and whispered faintly, "Fine."