A Single Hand Turns the World Upside Down

West of the city, ten miles out.

The Divine Machine Battalion's encampment was like a festering sore forgotten in the wilderness.

The dilapidated camp gate creaked in the cold wind. Several rusty cannons lay haphazardly in the mud, their muzzles filled with melted snow.

From the barracks came muffled coughs and the shouts of men gambling.

There was no grim austerity of the border garrisons here, only the melancholic air of men waiting to die.

Ji Ye, astride a black horse, stopped outside the camp gate. He had no retinue behind him, only the Bushou sword that never left his side.

"Com... Commander?"

The soldier at the gate, a seasoned veteran, jolted when he saw the Tiger Tally on Ji Ye's waist. His spear nearly slipped from his grasp.

A man's reputation precedes him.

The sword strike at the Qin residence last night had already spread through the army. Everyone knew this new lord was a ruthless man who dared to draw a blade at Qin Wuji.

"Open the gate."

Ji Ye spoke calmly.

The gate creaked open.

Ji Ye rode in.

A few hundred men stood scattered across the training grounds. They looked at Ji Ye, their eyes filled with reverence, fear, and more than anything, the numb indifference of men watching a corpse.

The Divine Machine Battalion was a death pit.

Whoever became its commander was destined to die.

"Commander, the Divine Machine Battalion is registered with twelve hundred men. Present... three hundred and forty-six."

The deputy commander, a gaunt middle-aged man named Sun Bingyi, lowered his head, his voice trembling. "The rest... some died of illness, some deserted, and some... were seconded to the supply corps by the Qin Family."

Ghost soldiers.

Bloodletting.

This was the "army" Qin Muzhi had prepared for Ji Ye.

Over three hundred old, weak, sick, and disabled men, plus a few broken cannons that couldn't even fire, to defend Luoyan Pass against the approaching Barbarian vanguard?

This wasn't a battle; it was a funeral procession.

Sun Bingyi stole glances at Ji Ye, waiting for the young commander to erupt in rage or despair.

But Ji Ye did not.

He dismounted and walked to a cannon, reaching out to touch its cold barrel.

His fingertips met the rough texture of rust.

"It's rusted," Ji Ye said softly.

"Yes... yes..." Sun Bingyi wiped sweat from his brow. "The Imperial Court's funds never came through. The gunpowder got damp, and the barrels cracked..."

"I'm talking about the men."

Ji Ye turned, his gaze like a blade, sweeping over the three hundred-plus numb faces.

"Cannons can be polished when they rust. Men who rust can only be buried."

Silence fell over the entire field.

No one dared to speak, not even to breathe loudly. The aura, amplified by the power of Martial Arts Through Divinity, pressed down on the old soldiers, making it hard to breathe.

"But it doesn't matter."

Ji Ye clapped the rust from his hands.

"Because I never intended to rely on you to fight."

Sun Bingyi froze. Not rely on us? Then who?

Just then.

The ground trembled slightly.

In the distance, a muffled yet orderly sound of hooves could be heard.

It wasn't the roar of a massive army, but the uniquely oppressive rhythm of elite cavalry.

Everyone instinctively looked towards the camp gate.

A black column appeared on the horizon.

Five hundred riders.

All on black horses, clad in black armor, wearing black cloaks.

They carried no banners and made no unnecessary noise. Each man's face bore the marks of wind and frost, yet their eyes shone with terrifying intensity. These were the eyes of men who had seen blood, killed, and rolled in piles of corpses.

And in the middle of the column were dozens of heavy carts, their tracks leaving deep imprints in the frozen earth.

That was money.

It was also supplies.

More importantly, it was Ji Ye's foundation for establishing himself in this world.

The rider at the forefront was a burly man with a resolute face. He carried a thick-bladed Wild Goose Feather Saber on his back. Though his left leg was slightly lame, he sat on his horse as steady as a mountain.

Wang Meng.

The man who, alongside Ji Ye, had annihilated the Black Tiger Gang in Black Stone County, and who, under Ji Ye's guidance, had headed south with forty thousand taels of silver and countless medicinal herbs.

"Whoa—"

Wang Meng reined in his horse, causing it to rear up.

He dismounted with swift, decisive movements.

Behind him, five hundred "Local Militia" from Black Stone County—or rather, private soldiers personally trained by Ji Ye—dismounted in unison.

"Clang!"

The clatter of armor plates was so uniform it sent a tremor through the hearts of the veteran soldiers in the Divine Machine Battalion.

Wang Meng strode up to Ji Ye.

He knelt on one knee, his fist clasped above his head.

His voice boomed, like the striking of metal:

"Black Stone veterans, assembled by order!"

"Five hundred brothers await the Commander's command!"

Behind him, five hundred men roared in unison:

"Await command!!"

The wave of sound washed away the accumulated stagnation above the Divine Machine Battalion.

Sun Bingyi's mouth hung open. He stared at this force that had descended from the heavens like a pack of wolves and tigers, then at the dozens of carts laden with heavy supplies, his mind a complete blank.

This... where did this private army come from?

Where did this foundation come from?

Ji Ye looked at Wang Meng, at these familiar faces.

Two years of dormancy, two years of cultivation.

This casual move he had made two years ago had finally become the crucial "center point" of this game today.

"They're here."

Ji Ye reached out and helped Wang Meng up.

"Was the journey smooth?"

"Not smooth," Wang Meng grinned, revealing a set of white teeth, a new wrinkle etched by wind and frost at the corner of his eye. "We killed a few waves of ignorant bandits and dodged a few Qin family inspections. But as long as I thought of you waiting in the Capital City, sir, the road felt smooth enough."

"You've worked hard."

Ji Ye patted Wang Meng's shoulder.

"Fall in."

"Yes!"

Wang Meng rose and stood half a step behind Ji Ye, just as he had in the Black Stone County yamen.

Ji Ye turned around, facing the three hundred veterans of the Divine Machine Battalion once more.

This time, his gaze was no longer that of someone looking at the dead, but at a flock of sheep awaiting slaughter.

"Deputy Commander Sun."

"Here... Here!" Sun Bingyi shivered and quickly stepped forward.

"Open these chests."

Ji Ye gestured to the carts Wang Meng had brought.

"Clang!"

The chest lids were pried open.

A dazzling golden light.

Neatly stacked gold bars, silver ingots, and bundles of fine iron arrowheads, along with boxes of excellent gunpowder.

The light was more brilliant than the sun in the sky, making everyone squint.

Ji Ye casually picked up a silver ingot and squeezed it with force, leaving deep fingerprints on it.

"From today onwards, the Divine Machine Battalion belongs to Ji."

"Those willing to stay will receive ten taels as a resettlement fee and will eat meat with me. Those who wish to leave will receive two taels for travel expenses and can scram."

"But I'll say this upfront."

Ji Ye's voice suddenly turned cold, like the wind in the twelfth lunar month, chilling to the bone.

"You took my money, your lives are mine."

"When we reach Luoyan Pass, whoever dares to take half a step back..."

"Clang!"

The Bushou sword was half drawn from its scabbard.

A chilling aura of death instantly enveloped the entire area.

"Execute."

"Clatter."

The last silver ingot landed in an old soldier's hand.

The old soldier's hand trembled, not from the cold, but from the weight. Ten taels of silver – it was more than he had saved in five years of fighting.

Not a single one of the three hundred veteran soldiers of the Divine Machine Battalion left.

It wasn't out of loyalty, but greed.

Ji Ye had offered too much, so much that they felt it was worth dying for.

"Wang Meng."

Ji Ye stood on the command platform, his gaze sweeping over the eight hundred men. Five hundred hardened soldiers from Black Stone County, and three hundred veteran soldiers from the Divine Machine Battalion.

Not a large number, but they were just the seeds.

"Drag those rusty cannons out and melt them down."

Ji Ye pointed at the cumbersome red-coated cannons.

Sun Bingyi was aghast. "Commander! This is the foundation of the Divine Machine Battalion! If we melt down the cannons, how will we defend Luoyan Pass? With our teeth?"

"Foundation?"

Ji Ye walked to a large cauldron and grabbed a handful of the newly delivered black gunpowder.

It was rough, damp, and ashen, like a pile of mud.

"This is garbage."

Ji Ye released his hand, letting the black powder scatter.

"The saltpeter isn't purified, the sulfur has too many impurities, and the charcoal was burned from wet wood. Stuff like this into a cannon, and it'll be lucky to even make a sound, let alone blow up our own men."

He turned, his gaze like lightning, sweeping over the dozens of carts of supplies brought by Wang Meng.

"Bring down those few carts of good wine."

"And the eggs, I want all the egg whites."

"Sieves, stone mills, set them up."

Sun Bingyi and the veteran soldiers exchanged bewildered glances. What was he trying to do? Cook?

But Wang Meng's men moved quickly. In a moment, the training ground transformed into a workshop.

Ji Ye stood before the stone mill.

Martial Arts Through Divinity fully activated.

Microscopic Control.

Within his perception, every saltpeter crystal, every grain of sulfur purity, was clearly visible.

"Grind."

Ji Ye commanded.

The stone mill began to turn, grinding the raw materials into the finest powder.

"Wash the saltpeter with wine to remove impurities."

"Use egg whites to bind and granulate."

"Too much water, pour it out."

"Not enough heat, dry it more."

"Particles too large, re-sieve."

An hour later.

A pile of gunpowder, black and lustrous, with granules as uniform as millet, was stacked before Ji Ye.

It was no longer an ashen powder, but a crystal exuding a dangerous aura.

Granulated gunpowder.

It solved the problems of burning speed and layering, with a power more than three times that of powdered gunpowder.

"Test it."

Ji Ye picked up an iron pipe salvaged from a discarded cannon, sealing one end.

He grabbed a handful of granular gunpowder, packed it down, and then inserted a lead ball the size of his thumb.

There was no complex ignition device, only a simple fuse.

"Watch closely."

Ji Ye propped the iron pipe on a large rock, aiming it at a tattered military banner a hundred paces away.

He lit it.

The hissing sound of the burning fuse was particularly jarring in the dead silence of the training grounds.

"Boom--!!!"

A single explosion, brief and violent.

Unlike the dull "thud" of the Redcoat Cannons, this was a shriek that tore through the air.

A hundred paces away.

The banner, along with its pole, was instantly pulverized.

And on the earthen wall behind the flagpole, a pit the size of a bowl had appeared, kicking up dust.

The entire area fell silent.

Sun Bingyi's mouth hung open, his jaw nearly hitting the ground.

Such a small pipe? So little powder?

And it had this much power?

Ji Ye set down the scorching hot iron pipe, blowing away the lingering wisps of smoke.

"This is the principle."

He looked at the stunned soldiers.

"Melt down all the iron and forge these pipes. They need to be long, straight, and hard."

"When we get to Luoyan Pass, I'll let the Barbarians' Wolf Cavalry know..."

A cold arc curved across Ji Ye's lips.

"Times have changed."

The sun set, its dying rays like blood.

They dyed the dilapidated camp of the Divine Machine Battalion a deep crimson.

Ji Ye stood alone at the highest point of the camp gate, the Bushou sword on his back, gazing towards Capital City in the south.

The lights there had already come on, as bustling and illusory as a grand dream.

"Sir."

Wang Meng ascended the platform, stopping half a step behind Ji Ye, his voice low.

"The Qin Family has cut off our supply lines, the Imperial Court is standing by, and the Barbarian army is pressing in. Luoyan Pass... is a death trap."

He paused, then looked up, his eyes filled with worry.

"Two years ago in Black Stone County, you said we needed to break out, to reach higher ground. But now that we've finally established a foothold in Capital City, if we go there... and fall, won't all our efforts over the past two years be in vain?"

Ji Ye didn't turn around.

The wind whipped his blue robes, making them rustle. He toyed with the Tiger Tally, the symbol of command, his fingertips tracing its cold patterns.

"In vain?"

Ji Ye chuckled softly and turned around.

His gaze swept past Wang Meng, past the eight hundred battle-ready soldiers, and towards the distant north.

"Wang Meng, do you remember what I said when I left Black Stone County two years ago?"

Wang Meng froze, and that blizzard-swept morning flashed in his mind.

--"Being trapped in shallow waters makes one a mudfish."

--"Only by becoming a dragon can one command the clouds and rain."

"I haven't forgotten, sir," Wang Meng bowed his head.

"That's right."

Ji Ye nodded, the light in his eyes more intense than the setting sun behind him.

"I left back then because I was weak. With the Barbarian cavalry ahead and Qin Wuji's sword behind, I was just a mudfish that could be crushed at any moment. I had no choice but to flee."

He slowly raised his hand, pointing to himself, then to the land beneath his feet.

"But now, it's different."

"For the past two years, I've traveled all over Da Liang, seen all the tricks of the martial world, and understood the bones of this Imperial Court."

"The sword, I've sharpened it."

"The men, I've gathered them."

"The Way, I've comprehended it."

"I have scales now, and claws too."

Ji Ye's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a suffocating composure and gravitas. It was the calm before a mountain collapses, the ebb tide before a tsunami arrives.

"Qin Muzhi thinks Luoyan Pass is my grave, that I'm a discarded pawn, forced into a corner by him."

"Xiao Hongxiu thinks this is my trial by fire, a chance to leap into the dragon's gate, wanting to see if I can forge a golden body in the flames."

"The Emperor thinks I'm a lonely minister, without roots, destined to rely on imperial power and be an obedient blade."

Ji Ye's gaze was as tranquil as water, yet as profound as an abyss.

"They all think they are the ones playing chess."

"They all believe that I, Ji Ye, can only move within their chessboard, following the squares they've drawn."

"But..."

Ji Ye retracted his finger and lightly tapped the hilt of the Bushou sword.

The broken sword hummed, like a dragon's low growl.

"What if the chessboard is flipped?"

"Luoyan Pass is a place of death, and also a place of life."

"I will feed my sword with the blood of the Barbarians."

"I will forge my own military spirit with the Qin family's schemes."

"I will use the righteousness of the imperial family to seize the power of this world."

He extended his hand and grabbed fiercely at the empty air.

It was as if he had seized the golden dragon of fortune circling above the Capital City, and then crushed it ruthlessly.

"When man harbors murderous intent, heaven and earth are overturned."

"I will be the one... who overturns the heavens."

The evening breeze brushed past his hair, making his simple blue robe billow like a flag.

The last sliver of the setting sun landed on his shoulder, as if plating him in a layer of blood-red golden armor.

Wang Meng looked at the back of the man before him, and in a daze, felt that it was no longer a person, but a sharp sword about to sever the shackles of this chaotic world, a hidden dragon accumulating strength in the abyss, ready to soar into the sky at any moment.

The last trace of doubt in his heart was incinerated by this overwhelming aura, replaced by a fervent passion boiling like magma.

Ji Ye withdrew the hand that had reached for the void and slowly gripped the hilt of the Bushou sword at his waist.

The motion was light, yet it felt like grasping the lifeline of the entire world.

"Wang Meng."

"Here!"

"Pass down the order, the entire army will march."

Ji Ye mounted his horse with fluid grace. He reined in the horse, casting one last glance at the prosperous yet decaying Capital City behind him.

"Two years ago, I said that when I returned, the rules of this world would have to change."

"Now..."

"The time has come."

"Giddy up!"

The black horse neighed, its hooves kicking up dust as it galloped away.

Ji Ye led the charge, plunging into the vast darkness of the night.

Behind him, eight hundred fierce soldiers followed in silence, like a black torrent breaking through a dam.

This departure meant a battle in the wilderness.

This departure meant a shift in the world's balance.

At the same moment.

Qin Manor, study.

Qin Muzhi held a teacup, listening to the sound of wind and snow outside, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

"He's gone?"

"Yes. With a few hundred remnants, and several carts of junk, he's left the city," the old butler replied, bowing.

"Good."

Qin Muzhi blew on the tea foam. "Dead men are the most reassuring. Have arrangements been made at Luoyan Pass?"

"They have. The grain and fodder will be delayed, and the reinforcements will get lost. He won't last three days."

"Three days..." Qin Muzhi took a sip of his tea. "That's enough. Send Wuji a letter to let him rest assured while he recovers from his injuries. This whetstone is broken."

At the same moment.

The Grand Princess's Manor, Tingxue Tower.

Xiao Hongxiu stood on the rooftop, watching the troop disappear into the wind and snow.

"Your Highness, are you truly sending him to his death?" the man in black asked in a low voice. "That's a fine sword."

"A sword is only called a divine weapon after it's been forged in fire and tempered in blood."

Xiao Hongxiu pulled her cloak tighter, her gaze deep.

"If he can return alive, I dare to give him half of Da Liang's military power."

"If he doesn't return..."

She reached out and caught a falling snowflake.

The snowflake melted in her palm, turning into a pool of icy water.

"Then he won't return."

Night fell over Capital City.

The revelry and dancing masked the stirrings in the military camp in the western part of the city.

No one knew that a force of only eight hundred men had quietly broken camp and headed north under the cover of night.

They took all the gunpowder, all the hope, and the last shred of fortune for the Great Liang Dynasty.

When the dark black carriage disappeared at the end of the official road.

In the sky, a meteor streaked across the long night, falling towards the north.

The Ziwei Star moved, the Sha Po Lang formation.

The evil dragon in the abyss had already opened its eyes.