Chapter 671: Strategic Preparations
When Zhao Changhe met up with Xue Canghai, the scene was steeped in the aura of the jianghu.
Snow was falling heavily, blanketing the city walls as the setting sun cast its crimson light, bathing the battlements in hues of blood. Xue Canghai sat cross-legged atop the wall, rhythmically sharpening his saber.
The saber, as red as blood, reflected the dying light of the sun, its color a perfect match.
The northern wind howled, carrying the steady rhythm of the saber being honed. Its sound echoed across half the city, resonating among the thousands of troops stationed there.
Zhao Changhe stood silently behind him, watching without interrupting. Xue Canghai paid no mind to the arrival of the so-called saint of the Blood God Cult, continuing to hone his saber as if no one were there.
Zhao Changhe found himself oddly captivated by the scene. If it had been someone else, it might have been perfect. But with it being Xue Canghai, there was always the potential for some comments to ruin the atmosphere...
Still, it seemed like Old Xue had redeemed himself. In Puyang, he was now a respected figure among the soldiers and civilians, and across the jianghu, his name on the Rankings of Troubled Times had become synonymous with a true expert. If anyone had earned the right to be ostentatious, it was him.
Shiing!
With a final stroke, Xue Canghai slid his finger along the edge of the blade, his eyes glinting with vicious blood qi. The saber trembled in resonance, sending a pulse of blood qi spiraling into the sky. In an instant, the sun dipped below the horizon, plunging the world into darkness.
It was as if his blade had cleaved the setting sun itself.
Zhao Changhe could not help but suspect that Xue Canghai’s imagined opponent for that strike was Yue Hongling...
Similar to Cui Yuanyong, Xue Canghai no longer measured himself against Zhao Changhe. The gap between them had grown too vast to inspire rivalry; only reverence remained. Yet both men still harbored an enduring fixation on Yue Hongling, the indomitable figure who had once stood as their unattainable benchmark.
Zhao Changhe, too, missed Yue Hongling. It had been so long since he had heard any news of her. Amidst this great upheaval, he wondered where she had wandered off to. Still, Zhao Changhe was far less worried for her than he used to be. She had proven time and again that she did not need to worry about her. If anything, it was better and wiser for him to just focus on his own matters.
At last, Xue Canghai kept his saber and turned, bowing deeply to Zhao Changhe. “Saint.”
Similar to Cui Yuanyong, Xue Canghai found Zhao Changhe to be a peculiar figure. Despite his towering status, Zhao Changhe carried himself without the slightest pretense, standing silently behind him and allowing him to show off. Of course, he had not really been trying to show off—every martial artist who wielded a blade entered a state of contemplation while honing their blade. Zhao Changhe understood this very well himself.
The more Zhao Changhe acted this way, the more Xue Canghai respected him.
It was no mistake to follow a man like him.
Truthfully, the Blood God Cult was Zhao Changhe’s most direct and loyal force. Just yesterday, Instructor Sun had been seated prominently at Zhao Changhe’s wedding banquet. Instructor Sun’s rise to grand elder had required no justification; he practically earned his position while lying down. He was the epitome of a winner in life.
Zhao Changhe said, “The Blood God Saber has seen countless battles. It should have accumulated some minor nicks and wear, right?”
“Of course,” Xue Canghai admitted with a sigh. “After so many years, any other blade would have long since been rendered useless. The Blood God Saber isn’t one of those treasured weapons imbued with a spirit, but the fact that it’s lasted this long is already a testament to its quality.”
Zhao Changhe remarked, “Lie was strange that way, wasn’t he? A saber user who cares so much about arrays rather than forging. I’ll help you reforge your saber sometime... Damn it, I swear, before I learned to forge, none of this ever came up. The moment I learned, suddenly it’s like there’s work to do at every turn.”
Xue Canghai chuckled. “That’s the thing, isn’t it? People who know how to cook end up doing it all the time at home. Don’t want to be the permanent cook? Then don’t learn.”
Zhao Changhe burst out laughing. “Words of wisdom right there!”
Xue Canghai grinned. “Speaking of arrays, the array plate is more complete now.”
Zhao Changhe nodded. He had repaired the core of the array plate earlier, but tracking down the various bits that had to be inlaid was a slow process—something he obviously did not have time for. Fortunately, the Blood God Cult had found a powerful ally in the Cui Clan. Over the past few months, even amidst the chaos of war, the Cui Clan had discreetly dispatched agents to scour the jianghu for the missing components of the Blood God Array Plate. With their vast resources and connections, they had made rapid progress. Frankly, it would not be surprising if the array plate was close to being fully restored.
Based on the usual patterns of how these ancient artifacts operated, the pieces would not have scattered into different secret realms. They were likely spread across the main divine land, making them easy enough to locate—unless a piece had ended up in the ocean depths, in which case it was as good as gone. On land, however, these beads were imbued with such dense vicious qi that their presence would inevitably stir strange phenomena, drawing the attention of martial artists and collectors alike.
“How many are still missing?”
“Only the last bead, and we already have a lead of where it might be.”
“Where is it?”
“Most likely in the Tngri Temple.” Xue Canghai grinned. “Seems like we’re quite lucky.”
It was somewhat true—at the very least, the bead had not sunk into the sea. As long as its location was known, the rest was just a matter of logistics. While the Tngri Temple might be one of the most formidable strongholds of this era, it was also an inevitable battleground for Zhao Changhe. Sooner or later, there would be a life-and-death clash. In the meantime, the Blood God Cult’s anticipation was palpable.
Even incomplete, the array plate had already demonstrated its power as a sacred artifact. Zhao Changhe had used it to repel Wang Daoning and save Cui Wenjing. Xue Canghai had used it to defeat Wang Daozhong, transforming his reputation overnight.
The potential aid that the sacred artifact could provide once completed was undoubtedly massive. It was, after all, connected to cultivation insights and heritage. The more complete the array plate was, the clearer the insights they were able to receive on aspects of their cultivation. It was with the help of the array plate that Old Xue’s recent progress came to surpass the sum of several years of efforts. It was largely to do with the array plate that the entire Blood God Cult could grow stronger and solidify their position.
If the sacred artifact could be fully restored, Zhao Changhe and Xue Canghai would become the most glorious and illustrious pair of saint and cult leader in the history of the Blood God Cult. As long as the cult endured, they would be revered by its followers for generations.
Ironically, Zhao Changhe now found himself less invested in Lie’s legacy. While the later stages of the Vicious Blood Saber Art were undoubtedly powerful, he had reached a stage where inheriting the paths of others was no longer the best way forward. He needed to forge his own path. Lie’s lineage would serve Xue Canghai well, but it was no longer for him.
Zhao Changhe said, “The Tngri Temple isn’t a place we can just barge into whenever we want. Right now, our priority is unification.”
Xue Canghai gripped the hilt of his saber, his grin turning wolfish. “No need to be so wordy. Just tell me who to attack.”
“The Wang Clan, of course.”
“When?”
“Rest for tonight. We leave at dawn.”
“We could pull off a night raid, you know. No one would expect an attack during a night of heavy snow. At least the first city to the east wouldn’t stand a chance. Of course, this would only work as an opening to the campaign. The rest would have to wait until spring. This ice and snow aren’t exactly ideal for a full campaign...”
“No need for a night raid. We want a grand show, one that will be etched into everyone’s minds,” Zhao Changhe said, gazing northward. His voice dropped. “This battle isn’t about taking cities—it’s about sending a message. You think I’d have our brothers storming a city in these conditions? Even I know that’s not how wars are fought.”
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At the capital.
As Zhao Changhe began his march south to Puyang, the capital buzzed with its own preparations for war. Having just returned from the campaign in the north, Huangfu Shaozong now stood on the snowy training grounds outside the city, addressing his troops, “Brothers! The Wang Clan has been rebelling for nearly half a year now! Before, we were stuck defending the Cui Clan. But now, with Wang Daoning dead, the time to strike is here! Don’t let the cold hold you back. We’re going to Langya for the New Year!”
His words boomed across the field, but the response from his soldiers was tepid at best.
Damn it, in the middle of winter, can’t you see the heavy snow?
Is this really the time to go on a campaign? Come on!
Still, Huangfu Shaozong’s grip on his troops was firm. Despite their mutinous expressions, they marched. Grumbling and muttering, they moved out. At least for now, there were no signs of open defiance.
In the distance, Lu Jianzhang and several others stood watching the departing army, their expressions thoughtful as they stroked their beards. When their gazes met, a shared thought flickered between them.
“A young empress, a general who’s spent his whole life playing around in the capital, and a venerable of a demonic cult skilled only in sacrifices and assassinations in the jianghu... What a band of misfits running this empire. Who would have thought that the most reliable person in this new dynasty would be a former bandit from Beimang? Sure, his one-man conquest of Qinghe was impressive, but...”
“Impressive? It wasn’t a one-man conquest but a single whip.”
“Don’t underestimate Cui Wenjing. King Zhao’s whip may have tamed Cui Yuanyang, but the same could not be said for Cui Wenjing. King Zhao clearly has his own means. And perhaps that’s why the empress has come to be overconfident? Thinking that joining forces with the Cui Clan would make Langya easy pickings? Setting aside the ill-timed campaign, emptying the city’s defenses is quite foolish. If the initial battle goes poorly, there may be mutiny.”
“Did First Seat Tang not advise against it?”
“This whole campaign seems so sudden. None of us knew beforehand. First Seat Tang probably didn’t either. But I’d wager she’s storming into court right now to give them a piece of her mind.”
“Hah... Then we should head there as well. It’s time for court. Watching First Seat Tang and the young empress argue—it’s becoming quite the spectacle of this new dynasty.”
The group chuckled as they made their way off, their steps deliberate and unhurried.
Despite claiming to head for court, most of the officials stopped by their homes first—presumably to change into more formal attire. Not long after, figures from various households slipped away quietly, vanishing into the snowy night.