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Chapter 571: Heavenly Beings Meet

In Northern Mang's Dragon Waist Province, Wazhu stood as the Southern Dynasty's foremost strategic fortress. Closely following it were Junziguo, Ligugu, and Maolong—three towns that together formed a complete defensive line, capable of both offense and defense. Northern Mang had invested countless human resources, materials, energy, and finances into these military towns, yet they were still crushed into a "broken sieve" by the combined forces of ten thousand Dragon Elephant Army and the Great Snow Dragon Riders. Five to six tens of thousands of armored soldiers from the strongholds either died in battle, or were killed even after surrendering, with some facing gruesome mass burials on the spot. Most of both the postal roads and beacon tower systems were destroyed. Most civil officials in the Southern Dynasty's imperial court were now utterly silent with fear, and military commanders no longer possessed the arrogance they had in previous years.

The astonishing combat power of the Northern Liang Iron Cavalry created both a positive and a negative outcome. The good news was that Hong Jingyan of the Chess-Sword Music Academy emerged from seclusion, taking command of all the Rouran Iron Cavalry in the three military towns, providing a huge reassurance to the panic-stricken Southern Dynasty. The bad news was that the fat man surnamed Dong, serving in Northern Mang's southern border army, had seemingly risen to a position comparable to that of the Grand Generals and Commissioners, wielding equivalent authority. As Her Majesty the Empress put it, "Fatty Dong, you've gone and gotten promoted again!" It was rumored that this man, having gained an advantage, feigned modesty. In the Southern Dynasty's grand hall, he reportedly chuckled to Her Majesty, saying, "Empress sister, yes, yes, I've finally gotten promoted! Actually, it would be truly settled if you just handed all the Southern Dynasty's military power over to me."

There was no further development. Her Majesty neither rebuked the fat man for his outrageous impudence nor minded his poor etiquette. Naturally, she also did not allow this audacious fatty to climb higher. However, she did leave behind the Imperial Tutor for the Southern Dynasty, namely the Grand Commissioner of Peace from the Chess-Sword Music Academy, to support Fatty Dong. As a result, the few individuals in the Southern Dynasty who could curb Dong Zhuo's power—such as Southern Court King Huang Songpu, Grand Generals Liu Gui and Yang Yuanzan, and the Commissioner of Dragon Waist Province—all prudently avoided clashing with him.

Today, on the damaged postal road between Wazhu and Junziguo, a stout man squatted. He was clad in light armor with the embedded official uniform of a second-rank military officer, clutching a handful of sand. The road beneath his feet remained unrepaired. The two towns closer to Xijing, Ligugu and Maolong, however, had taken advantage of Her Majesty the Empress's secret inspection tour of the Southern Dynasty. Over two hundred thousand laborers had been mobilized, and repairs were nearly complete at an astonishing speed. This man was corpulent but not bloated or flabby; instead, he appeared particularly robust and powerful. This was none other than Dong of the Southern Dynasty, part of the "Northern Chu, Southern Dong" duo, a stout man whose renown matched that of Northern Liang's Chu Lushan. He was Dong Zhuo, recently promoted to Northern Mang's thirteenth Grand General.

The fat man had no personal guards by his side, only a large contingent of elite Crow Scouts patrolling the vicinity with precise regularity. After Dong Zhuo gained power, his first priority was not to lavishly spend money on recruiting soldiers and seizing territories, but to expand the Crow Scouts—Northern Mang's only force capable of rivaling Northern Liang's White Horse Scouts. According to conservative estimates by informed individuals, the original number of over a thousand Crow Scouts had doubled, without significant loss of combat effectiveness.

Dong Zhuo was habitually talking to himself there. When he was a young chubby child, he was often ridiculed and mocked. This boy had no friends, and no one believed he would amount to anything in the future. Thus, Dong Zhuo could only talk to himself, and over time, he developed a quirky habit of muttering. After joining the army, this tendency intensified; whenever a battle ended, he would always go and babble to the dead. It was hard to imagine such an incomprehensible eccentric could rise so quickly in the Southern Dynasty's imperial court.

Fatty Dong continued his soliloquy, muttering about some old man stubbornly refusing to resign from the nominal title of Southern Court King. "What, are you paving the way for Hong Jingyan? You stubborn old man, you won't give it to me even if you die? I'm not one to hold grudges, and besides, we haven't reached an irreconcilable point. Huang Songpu, what are you afraid of? Are you trying to gain immense favor with the Chess-Sword Music Academy in exchange for a peaceful retirement?"

Dong Zhuo tilted his palm, letting the sand trickle away, and sighed. He truly missed his first and second wives. However, his first wife, now a princess, had her family in chaos and needed to go stabilize the situation. His second wife spent her days consumed with thoughts of revenge against the new King of Liang, no longer as cheerful and lively as before. Fortunately, he had a young girl with him, which dispelled much of the gloom in the fat man's heart. Dong Zhuo turned, his gaze gently falling upon a little girl in the distance, leading a small, vibrant red pony. This was Tao Manwu, the orphan of Tao Qianzhi, who had become Dong Zhuo's sworn brother after he joined the army. Dong Zhuo had no children of his own yet, so he doted on this little girl with all his heart. He had even explicitly told his two wives that he would probably not love his own biological children as much in the future. His first wife, always understanding, took it well, but his second wife, who had married into the Dong family slightly later, was so angered that she didn't let him into their bed for half a year.

Dong Zhuo watched Tao Manwu, whose background was rather tragic. The delicate little girl, as if carved from pink jade, seemed to be humming a tune. The pony was a playmate Uncle Dong had found for her; she had always been reluctant to ride it. On this journey south with Uncle Dong, even the young pony was allowed the privilege of entering the spacious carriage. Dong Zhuo stood up, intending to chat with little Manwu to alleviate his boredom. Suddenly, he saw the young girl sharply turn sideways, staring intently at a specific spot. The extremely perceptive Dong Zhuo narrowed his eyes, following her gaze, but saw nothing. The fat man was utterly bewildered and couldn't understand why. Without thinking much further, he quickly ran towards the little girl, only to see her raising her arm to wipe her eyes, which were somewhat red and swollen—he couldn't tell if it was from crying or from the harsh wind and sand. Dong Zhuo knelt down and softly asked, "What's wrong?"

The little girl's gaze shifted slightly, and she vigorously shook her head. Having spent every day with her, Dong Zhuo knew full well she was lying, but what did it matter? If little Manwu didn't want to say, Dong Zhuo wouldn't press her. Instead, he pressed his thumb against his nose to make a pig's face, trying to amuse her. The little girl reached up, took his hand away from his face, helped him rub his cheek, and then seriously said, "Uncle Dong, those big brothers from the Crow Scouts say you're a big official now. You shouldn't fool around anymore."

Dong Zhuo chuckled, "What does that matter? Even if Uncle Dong gets so old he can't ride a horse or lift a spear, he'll still make silly faces for little Manwu."

Tao Manwu forced a smile, glanced into the distance, and whispered, "Uncle Dong, I want to sing that ballad. Do you want to hear it?"

Dong Zhuo burst into laughter and hoisted Tao Manwu onto his broad shoulders. The little girl sang loudly:"Green grass will grow next year, wild geese leave and return.Spring wind blows this year, will my young lord return or not?Green flagstones, green grass, on the green stone bridge, a youth in green, humming a Jinling tune.Whose daughter lowers her head and smiles?Yellow leaves fall this year, year after year.Autumn wind will rise next year, will my lady be there or not?Yellow River, yellow flowers, in Yellow River City, a yellow-clad lady, chasing yellow butterflies.Whose young man keeps his sword sheathed?"

Dong Zhuo sighed inwardly. Little Manwu was probably missing that young lord, whom she couldn't tell if he was an enemy or a benefactor.

Perhaps influenced by the little girl's song, the nearby group of Crow Scouts, unmatched in solo combat, began to hum softly, though no one knew who started it. It was a tune unique to their seventy thousand Dong Family Army:"Dong family lads, with sabers on horseback, spears on horseback,By dead horses' backs, by dead horses' sides.Little ladies at home, shed no heartbroken tears,Little sons at home, become Dong family men again."

Little Manwu, perched on Dong Zhuo's shoulders, looked towards a certain spot. After a moment of hesitation, with red-rimmed eyes, she quietly waved her slender arm as if in farewell.

The Rouran Mountain Range, a crucial natural barrier for Northern Mang's Southern Dynasty, centered around Tibingshan. It was further fortified with three military towns: Rouxuan, Laohuai, and Wuchuan. At its peak, the Rouran Iron Cavalry, numbering no more than ninety thousand, was also a renowned and powerful army. During last year's Liang-Mang War, the Rouran Iron Cavalry did not participate due to the sudden death of Fifth He of Tibingshan. Southern Dynasty officials firmly believed that this formidable force, even if pitted against Northern Liang's Dragon Elephant Army, would have an even chance of victory.

Tibingshan remained Tibingshan, named after the peculiar Fifth clan, but the Rouran Iron Cavalry now followed the surname Hong, the owner of the Ci-poetry form Genglouzi. Northern Mang traditionally valued martial prowess more than the Central Plains' emphasis on lineage. Therefore, when Hong Jingyan, originally the fourth greatest martial artist under heaven, took command of Rouran, there were no significant ripples or controversies. Genglouzi, who single-handedly suppressed Tibingshan, had never ascended the mountain to visit the Fifth clan, and rarely even appeared near Tibingshan. Especially after Fifth He's daughter, who was also the wife of Northern Mang's thirteenth Grand General Dong Zhuo, took charge of the greatly weakened Tibingshan, some speculated that Hong Jingyan would never climb the mountain in his lifetime, to avoid any suspicion.

The Rouran Mountain Range stretched endlessly. When one journeyed there, the wheat at the foothills was green and not yet ripe. Upon returning, it was still some time until the summer wheat harvest, so the scenery remained much the same.

A strong wind suddenly rose, rustling the wheat. A tall, slender, imposing man appeared without warning at the edge of the wheat field. His awe-inspiring silver eyes were fixed on a "person" traveling in the distance. His hair remained greyish-white, though, compared to what had been seen previously in Qingcang City, the dark grey was growing longer and the white streaks diminishing. The man, considered a potential successor to Tuoba Pusa as Northern Mang's foremost martial artist, stood to the north, intercepting the inexplicable figure traveling from south to north.

This was beyond Genglouzi's expectation. To Hong Jingyan, who had a certain blind spot, no matter how supreme the Northern Liang Iron Cavalry's combat power was, it was ultimately limited by Northern Liang's inherent disadvantages in terrain and manpower. Northern Mang was destined to invade south, but Northern Liang would never have the chance to march north. Therefore, Hong Jingyan had never imagined that this person could one day lead an army to march through Rouran. Whether the northwestern gate of the Central Plains could be defended depended solely on Northern Mang's patience.

Upon seeing him, Hong Jingyan was reminded of the spearman who had been granted a surname by the Butcher. During their recent encounter, which occurred while escorting Zhong Liang back to Northern Mang, the arrogant Hong Jingyan had watched helplessly as the other gained a complete advantage. This subtle defeat inevitably damaged the state of mind of Genglouzi, who had previously only acknowledged Wang Xianzhi and Northern Mang's Military God as his peers. The damage was so profound that Hong Jingyan would need to defeat a handful of top martial artists like Deng Tai'a and Deng Mao to restore his former peak state. Normally, upon seeing this "person" spiritually projecting here, Hong Jingyan would have immediately attempted an interception and assassination. But now, Hong Jingyan had to worry that this person was merely a highly tempting decoy, with Wang Xiu's junior martial brother, whose real name was Liu Yanbing, lurking in the shadows, awaiting a fatal strike.

The young "celestial being" in spiritual projection moved through the verdant wheat field. Where his will directed, his body followed, yet he didn't presumptuously approach the menacing Genglouzi. Standing a hundred zhang away in the wheat field, he reached out to caress the un-eared wheat, then laughingly added fuel to the fire by asking, "After two successive defeats against Luoyang and Xu Yanbing, have you, Hong Jingyan, fallen to such a pathetic state? You don't even dare to make a move? With a mindset like yours, let alone Wang Xianzhi, who is invincible among mortals, I'm afraid that in less than a year, even I won't be your match."

Hong Jingyan replied calmly, "What is the point of a battle of words?"

Neither spoke loudly, but their voices were clearly audible to each other.

The young man in spiritual projection nodded and chuckled, "Your talent is too high. You always felt that being the world's foremost master was rightfully yours. So, you set your sights on the imperial court too early, which means you could say you went astray from the very beginning. In the future Jianghu, I'm afraid there will be no place for you."

Hong Jingyan sneered, "Xu Fengnian, even if you can spiritually project, attempt to integrate the three teachings, and seize the opportunity to touch the threshold of a terrestrial immortal, do you truly have the right to presumptuously comment on me?"

"Xu Fengnian" shook his head, his gaze skipping past Hong Jingyan to the north of the Rouran Mountain Range. "I await you bringing the Rouran Iron Cavalry to their deaths with me. Now, clear the way."

Hong Jingyan's lips curled into a smirk. "So you know that if I have my eyes on you and don't move, you can't go north? Xu Fengnian, when did you become so self-aware?"

The young "spirit traveler," with one foot in the Heavenly Phenomenon realm and the other stepping into the Terrestrial Immortal realm, spread his hands. Two sabers, River-Crossing Pawn and Spring Thunder, unsheathed from Xu Fengnian's waist thousands of li away, and were instantly grasped in his hands. It seemed that if Hong Jingyan wouldn't yield, it would simply come down to a fight. The question was whether Hong Jingyan, having already tasted defeat twice in his life, believed that a third encounter would prove decisive.

Hong Jingyan frowned, then his brow smoothed. He turned sideways, gesturing for the young man in his sight to continue north. Northern Liang was nothing in his eyes, nor was the title of Northern Court King promised by Murong Baoding. What was a mere Xu Fengnian? Xu Fengnian vanished in a flash, leaving behind laughter whose heavy mockery struck Genglouzi's heart. The stoic Hong Jingyan's state of mind was unaffected by Xu Fengnian's laughter. He merely stood rooted to the spot, pondering, "Can one not be both the world's foremost master and its co-ruler?"

Above the imperial palace square where Northern Mang's Grand Commissioner of Peace had composed music for the Empress, an ethereal figure materialized out of thin air. The imperial city trembled. The figure ascended into the sky step by step, reaching the top of the grand hall. He stood with his hands behind his back, seemingly gazing towards Tai'an City in the distance. Moments later, he vanished into thin air. The Empress, who had arrived upon hearing the news, looked up at the spot where the man had stood. She showed no anger, only a hint of pity, and chuckled softly, "My foolish child, the general trend cannot be resisted. Even if Northern Mang cannot conquer the entire Central Plains, a small Northern Liang is of no consequence. What if you alone are fortuitously invincible in this world? At most, you'll just be another Cao Changqing."

The border regions of Youzhou were barren and desolate. The more so, the harder the labor, allowing no room for relaxation; otherwise, how could one possibly extract enough food for survival from the jaws of heaven? In a sandy oasis field, a family of five or six male laborers spanning three generations toiled, sweat pouring down from old and young alike. By now, almost all of Northern Liang knew that Northern Mang was preparing a massive invasion to the south. Wealthy families had quietly begun relocating their valuables either east or south. However, the rich who could afford to avoid disaster were ultimately a minority. The majority were poor, like this family, who could only resign themselves to fate. They had to stay wherever their fields were, guarding their crops and harvests, placing their hopes solely on the young new Prince to truly withstand the tidal assault of the Northern Mang Iron Cavalry for them.

The old man, in truth, had few regrets; at least he had lived two decades of peaceful life. Yet, he couldn't help but worry about the children in his family. A white-haired old farmer glanced at his grandson, who was toiling alongside the elders, and couldn't help but grin. This child took after his father in studying, and his father after himself—both would get headaches just looking at words in books. Nevertheless, the old man still believed that even one more day of study and one more learned character was good, not a waste of money. The old man gently stroked the little head of his grandson, whose face was reddened by the increasingly scorching sun, and told him to rest in the shade for a while. The child giggled, then trotted to the edge of the field to squat and secretly slack off. There, he seemed to spot a handsome young man, but after rubbing his eyes, the man was gone. He rubbed again, and the man reappeared. This left the child bewildered until the person walked over and sat on the field bank beside him. Only then did the child confirm he wasn't seeing ghosts in broad daylight. The simple child bravely asked, "Want some water?"

The figure, who would gather in the south and disperse in the north, smiled and shook his head. Gazing at the figures toiling in the fields, facing the yellow earth with their backs to the sky, he softly asked, "Will the harvest be good this year?"

The child paused, then innocently replied, "There was a lot of snow at the end of the year, so it should be good."

The young man chuckled, "Does anyone in your family serve in the army?"

The child said shyly, "No, my father wanted to before, but he wasn't selected." As if afraid of being looked down upon by the young man beside him, the child earnestly declared, "When I'm older, I'm definitely going. I'll kill northern barbarians, earn lots of money to send home, and, well, protect our family. Oh, and I'll tell you something, but don't tell anyone else, Young Master: A-mei in our village is really pretty, but she never pays attention to me. When I grow up, I'm definitely going to marry her because her sister married a soldier from the border. I saw him once a few years ago; he was so impressive! That's why I also want to go to war!"

The young man nodded. Both the adult and the child, together, stole a moment from their work to gaze into the distance. When the child finally came to his senses, the young man beside him had vanished without a trace. The child, realizing it belatedly, jumped up and shouted to his grandfather, "I saw an immortal!"

The old man smiled, straightened his back, wiped away his sweat, and murmured, "This child."

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