Comprehensive Martial Arts: My Master Is Huang Rong

She felt as if she were enveloped by an invisible yet resilient net, unable to break free from the complex emotions Lin Xuan evoked—a mixture of shame and solace—no matter how she struggled.

However, the war would not halt for personal feelings.

Soon, a new crisis descended upon Xiangyang once more. Though the Mongol army had suffered heavy losses during the previous night raid, its massive war machine had not stopped.

On the contrary, the Mongol army's supply lines became more frequent and extensive, like countless black, winding pythons, continuously transporting grain, weapons, and soldiers from the north to Xiangyang City. Clearly, they were preparing for another, larger-scale siege.

The atmosphere within the city grew tense again. Guo Jing was extremely anxious, rushing day and night between the city defense camps and the council hall. His square face was etched with heavy worry, the wrinkles between his brows deepening.

"Rong'er, these Tartars are like locusts; eliminate one batch, and another swarms in!" Guo Jing sighed heavily, looking at the city defense map. "They have ample provisions; how can we sustain a prolonged war?"

Huang Rong's brow was also tightly furrowed. Her fair jade fingers tapped lightly on the table, emitting soft, faint sounds. Analyzing intelligence from outside the city for days had given her a terrible headache.

Although the Mongol army's supply lines were vast, they were not without weaknesses. A bold idea was beginning to form in her mind, but its execution would require more precise deployment and an assistant who could fully understand and carry out her intentions.

Her gaze unconsciously drifted outside the study, landing in the direction of Lin Xuan's room.

She no longer wished to be alone with Lin Xuan, but reality forced her to admit that in terms of military strategy, Lin Xuan was now on par with her, perhaps even surpassing her. The previous battle had proven this.

In two consecutive military council meetings, Huang Rong tried to avoid Lin Xuan, deliberately excluding him from core discussions.

However, when Guo Jing summoned generals and Beggar's Sect elders to discuss defense strategies, Lin Xuan presented an exceptionally accurate analysis of the Mongol army's supply routes.

Without any hint of arrogance, he calmly and objectively stated his judgment on the Mongol supply routes, his estimation of the supply convoy's size, and his prediction of security vulnerabilities.

His words were humble yet insightful, striking a chord with the generals and Guo Jing present. They were astonished by Lin Xuan's grasp of enemy intelligence and his extraordinary insight.

"Young Master Lin speaks the truth!" an old general exclaimed, stroking his beard. "We only saw the increase in Mongol supplies, but never considered that the larger it is, the more obvious its weaknesses become!"

The generals echoed his sentiments, urging Huang Rong to consult with Lin Xuan. Guo Jing directly told Huang Rong, "Rong'er, I believe Xuan'er has a remarkable talent for strategy, far surpassing me! You should listen to his opinions more."

Huang Rong was torn. Reason told her that for the sake of Xiangyang's overall situation, she could not let emotions dictate her actions.

The feeling of being touched by Lin Xuan, of her mind being muddled by him, was intensely shameful, but at this moment, the nation's peril left no room for personal feelings.

She took a deep breath, suppressing the unspeakable restlessness and turmoil in her chest. A flicker of clarity, born from struggle, shone in her clear, autumn-like eyes.

"Fine!" Huang Rong finally sighed in resignation, a hint of resolve in her voice. "Xuan'er, come to my study."

Lin Xuan was overjoyed inwardly, but his expression remained calm. He bowed respectfully in acknowledgment.

The private meeting in the study was solemn and serious. Candlelight flickered, casting shifting shadows on the maps and sand table on the wall. The air was filled with the scent of ink and faint sandalwood, along with a subtle hint of intimacy that only Lin Xuan and Huang Rong could perceive.

Huang Rong sat in the main seat, dressed in a dark, fitted outfit that accentuated her graceful figure. Her slender waist, easily encircled by a hand, seemed like a willow branch swaying in the wind.

She pressed her long, jade fingers to her temple, her beautiful eyes shining like stars, holding a mixture of wisdom and fatigue. Her gaze swept over Lin Xuan, her eyes carrying a subtle complexity—a mixture of a teacher's authority, her helplessness towards him, and a deep-seated reliance.

Lin Xuan sat opposite her, the distance just right, neither distant nor overly intimate, as if nothing had happened. He focused entirely on the map and sand table, his eyes clear, his tone steady, embodying the image of a pure strategist dedicated to the nation and its people.

"The Mongol army's supplies have indeed been unusually frequent recently. Especially the supply route from the north into the depths of the grasslands, passing through Kumuling, where convoys are almost constant," Lin Xuan said gravely, pointing to a mountain ridge on the map. "This area is treacherous with dense bushes, a natural ambush site."

Huang Rong's gaze was drawn to his finger. She stared at the map, her dark eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Kumuling... it is indeed easy to defend and difficult to attack, but wouldn't the Mongol army station heavy troops there?" she asked, her red lips parting slightly, her voice carrying a hint of sweet inquiry.

Lin Xuan nodded.

"Master is absolutely right. Therefore, what we need is not a full-scale confrontation, but a 'beheading'," Lin Xuan's gaze sharpened, his voice filled with precise judgment of the battle situation. "The Mongol army, believing their supply lines to be safe, will become complacent. We can choose a dark, windy night, concentrate our elite forces, and directly attack the core of their supply line—the critical convoys carrying grain and provisions, as well as their commanding officer. Once the grain is burned and the commander is dead, the Mongol army's offensive will be severely hampered."

A spark flashed in Huang Rong's eyes. She instinctively leaned forward. Beneath her dark outfit, her full chest rose slightly, and her slender waist, easily encircled by a hand, exuded a breathtaking allure. She even unthinkingly rested her elbows on the table, moving closer to Lin Xuan, trying to hear his every word more clearly.

Lin Xuan felt Huang Rong's proximity and rejoiced inwardly. He continued:

"To avoid interference from large Mongol reinforcements, we need to create several 'decoy battlefields.' I have found several hidden valleys outside the city where Beggar's Sect disciples can disguise themselves as small units and conduct harassment at different times and locations, diverting the Mongol army's attention."

"At the same time, we can utilize the previously discovered hidden tunnels within Xiangyang City, which the Mongol army has not detected. On the night of the raid, we can dispatch a surprise force to attack the Mongol supply line from the rear, intercepting their retreat or reinforcement routes."

He even meticulously planned how to use the terrain of Kumuling to create an ambush:

"We can pre-plant oil and rolling stones on both sides of Kumuling. Once the convoy enters, we detonate them simultaneously to create chaos. The elite vanguard will then charge out from the ambush point, directly targeting the enemy commander. The Beggar's Sect disciples will be responsible for cutting off rear support and creating enough commotion in a short period to make the Mongol army believe we have committed large forces."

"For the feigned retreat route, after the supply line is burned, our main force will quickly withdraw, but leave behind some 'traces' to guide the Mongol army to pursue us along a pre-set 'trap' direction, rather than our actual withdrawal route."

Lin Xuan's deductions were seamless, minimizing risks. Every detail was thoroughly considered, every step meticulously planned, leaving listeners in awe.

Huang Rong grew increasingly astonished as she listened. She realized Lin Xuan's way of thinking had surpassed that of any general she had ever known. He not only understood the art of warfare but could also anticipate the enemy's psychological changes, forming a complete combat system. This ability was difficult for even her to fully match.

She subconsciously picked up the ink brush on the table and circled points on the map Lin Xuan indicated. Her slender fingertips occasionally brushed against his, the warm touch sending a strange current through her body, making her tremble.

Huang Rong's heart tightened, and she forced herself to concentrate on the tactics, not allowing the unusual flutter to disrupt her thoughts.

"Xuan'er, your strategy is truly... wonderfully conceived!" Huang Rong praised sincerely, her voice filled with an excitement and exhilaration she couldn't suppress, as pleasant as a warbler's song. "With this, even if the Mongol army presses hard, they will only be like cornered beasts!"

Her gaze towards Lin Xuan was filled with unprecedented admiration, the joy of finding a kindred spirit, and infatuation with his brilliant talent. The shame and confusion caused by Lin Xuan seemed to be completely overshadowed by his extraordinary intellect at this moment, leaving only pure admiration and reliance.

"Master is too kind; your disciple is merely doing his humble best," Lin Xuan replied respectfully, his tone still humble, but his eyes shining with confidence. "Without Master's wise leadership, my humble plans would be useless."

Huang Rong smiled slightly. Her smile, illuminated by the candlelight, was exceptionally beautiful and moving, carrying a hint of long-lost ease and charm, like a spring breeze sweeping through a blooming peach orchard. She gently patted Lin Xuan's shoulder with her slender jade hand. The soft, resilient touch transmitted through the fabric to Lin Xuan's body, sending a shiver through him.

"Xuan'er, this battle, we two will plan and command together!" Huang Rong declared with firm conviction, her eyes filled with trust in Lin Xuan.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Night Raid Under the Moon

Night fell, blanketing the wilderness outside Xiangyang City like ink. In the sky, a crescent moon hung alone behind thick clouds, casting only a few wisps of cold, hazy light.

Distant mountains and nearby trees blurred into indistinct silhouettes in the dimness, adding to the somber and mysterious atmosphere. A cold wind, carrying the scent of earth and wild grass, howled from afar, whistling through the trees and sweeping across the land about to be ignited by war.

The massive Mongol supply convoy, composed of hundreds of provision vehicles, escorted by heavy troops, rumbled slowly from the north towards Xiangyang.

The wheels rolled over the uneven dirt road, emitting dull, rhythmic creaks that echoed in the silent night, like the drumbeats of fate.

The air was filled with the distinct smell of the Mongol army and the stench of tired sweat. The soldiers, clad in heavy leather armor, had faces worn and weary from the long march. They had no idea they had stepped right into the death trap meticulously set by Lin Xuan and Huang Rong.

Withered Wood Ridge, like a dormant prehistoric beast, stood tall and imposing in the night. Bushes grew thick on both sides of the valley, and the terrain was littered with jagged rocks, a perfect natural spot for an ambush.

Squadrons of Xiangyang's elite troops, under Lin Xuan's command, lay hidden like phantoms, blending seamlessly with the night, awaiting their prey. The wind howled, but it couldn't drown out their tense yet orderly breaths.

Lin Xuan, dressed in night-vision clothing, his figure perfectly merged with the darkness. He moved with agile grace, like a gibbon leaping among the rocks, silently weaving through the dense, rocky forest.

His gaze was sharp and calm; even amidst extreme darkness and danger, he showed no panic. This was the composure of one tempered by countless battles, or perhaps a gift of extraordinary talent.

A faint, clean fragrance emanated from him, a unique aura naturally released after his body was nourished by the Yin Yang Deficit Supplementation Technique, both masculine and restrained. Inhaling it, one's mind involuntarily calmed, as if the surrounding tension was gently smoothed away.

This demeanor was a stark contrast to his image as a witty strategist during the day. Now, he was more like a ruthless and decisive night hunter, every breath, every muscle, tensed in peak combat readiness.

Whispers and hand signals were conveyed with precision. Lin Xuan quietly issued a series of orders, each one exact in location and timing, without the slightest hesitation, like an instinct carved into his very bones.

"First squad, infiltrate the northwest bushes. When the signal is given, immediately ignite the oil... Move quickly, the bigger the fire, the better!" His voice was kept extremely low, whispered close to the ear of the messenger beside him, yet it carried a convincing power.

"Second squad, secure the retreat route, prevent enemy reinforcements from approaching, and delay them for at least half an incense stick's time!" He pointed in a direction, his tone firm.

"Third squad, follow me directly into the central army. Remember, the target is the commander! Kill him at all costs!" His eyes were like knives, fixed on the path ahead, as if he could already see the corpulent figure of the Mongol general through the night.

Every soldier was wholeheartedly convinced by him. They had never seen such a young yet experienced commander, one who could not only strategize but also lead from the front lines. Even stranger, wherever his gaze swept, an invisible force seemed to relax their taut nerves while simultaneously igniting boundless fighting spirit.

"Whooo--"

As the main convoy of the Mongol supply train lumbered slowly into the narrowest ambush point of Withered Wood Ridge, a sharp glint flashed in Lin Xuan's eyes, who had been hidden in the darkness. The muscles in his body reached a state of extreme tension and relaxation simultaneously, like a drawn bowstring.

He suddenly raised his hand.

The next second, a piercing whistle of an arrow tore through the night sky! This signal arrow, carrying a gust of wind, shot straight upwards, trailing fire, like the scythe of death, carving a fatal trajectory in the darkness. This was Lin Xuan's signal for the all-out attack.

Instantly, flames erupted on both sides of Withered Wood Ridge!

The pre-buried oil was ignited, and fierce flames shot into the night sky, painting the view a fiery red. Tongues of fire, entwined with thick smoke, instantly cut the Mongol supply train in half.

Countless rolling stones poured down the hillside like rain, emitting a deafening roar, smashing the supply carts to pieces. Wood chips flew, and screams and horse whinnies rose in succession, completely tearing apart the silent night.

"Kill!" Lin Xuan's command to kill, along with the roar of flames and rolling stones, echoed through the valley like a death knell from the deepest hell.

The long-hidden Xiangyang ambushers surged out from all directions like a tide, roaring as they charged at the bewildered Mongol army. Close combat, fierce clashes erupted instantly. The glint of swords and the spray of blood turned the valley into a living hell in moments.

Lin Xuan moved like lightning, darting freely through the enemy ranks. He didn't use the exquisite palm techniques of the Nine Yin Manual, but instead transformed the comprehensive physical modifications from the Yin Yang Deficit Supplementation Technique into ultimate agility, speed, and strength.

Every dodge was perfectly timed, every strike accurately hit the enemy's vital points. Each step he took landed in the Mongols' blind spots, and every offensive move left them struggling to respond.

With a seemingly casual flick of his finger, he could make a burly Mongol soldier instantly lose balance and stumble sideways; with a seemingly unintentional sidestep, he could send an enemy into the attacks of his own comrades.

Every move he made was simple and unadorned, yet it contained a chilling, astonishing power. He had no wasted movements; every step, every move, went straight to the core, each strike lethal.

Facing him, the Mongol soldiers would involuntarily feel their minds in disarray, even experiencing a primal fear and sluggishness that distorted their movements and exposed their flaws. Many enemies fell dead before they could even clearly see his actions, their eyes filled with confusion and unwillingness.

He led the elite force like a sharp blade, piercing into the enemy's central formation, heading straight for the commander's grand chariot at the heart of the supply train. The Mongol experts he encountered along the way, whether swordsmen or spearmen, could not stop him for even a moment. He was like a black lightning bolt, leaving fallen enemies in his wake.

Meanwhile, Huang Rong was stationed in the rear, in a hidden mountain hollow about ten miles from Withered Wood Ridge. She wore a dark, close-fitting outfit that accentuated her delicate figure, her slender waist, as if a tender willow branch swaying in the spring breeze, exuding a breathtaking allure.

At this moment, she was seated at a simple campaign table, on which lay a large map of Xiangyang City's defenses. The cold moonlight could not penetrate the clouds, but the candlelight in the tent illuminated the small space brightly, reflecting her beautiful face.

Huang Rong gently pressed her slender jade fingers to her forehead. Her beautiful eyes shone like stars, filled with a mixture of wisdom and fatigue. Her fair skin glowed faintly in the candlelight, her soft and elegant profile exuding a hint of composure even in the most tense moments.

Her beautifully sculpted, firm neck was slightly tilted forward as she gazed at the map, as if imprinting every detail into her mind. Her full chest rose and fell slightly with her breathing, revealing the surging emotions within. With a flick of her fingertips, signal flares rose into the night sky, carrying her precise commands, directing the deployment and coordination of the follow-up troops.

Beggar's Sect disciples, like shadows, harassed from various locations, creating diversions and making it difficult for the Mongol army to discern the main attack direction. Sporadic explosions and shouts of battle could be heard in the distance; these were small units of the Beggar's Sect, scattered in various locations, drawing the Mongols' attention according to Lin Xuan's plan.

She could feel the progress of the battle from Lin Xuan's side. Though she couldn't see it, the precise rhythm of the attacks, that masterful command art, brought an unprecedented sense of excitement and pride to her tired face. Her judgment was correct; Lin Xuan was indeed a prodigy who could help her turn the tide of the battle.

"Reporting, Helmsman! On the main attack front at Withered Wood Ridge, the Mongol central army is in disarray, the fires have started, and Young Master Lin's assault team has approached the enemy commander's grand chariot!" A disciple of the Beggar's Sect bowed, his voice filled with unconcealed excitement.

Hearing this news, Huang Rong's tightly strung nerves finally relaxed slightly. A gleam flashed in her beautiful eyes, a look of almost infatuated admiration appearing unreservedly on her stunning face. She let out a sigh, her breath carrying a faint scent of orchid, alluring and elegant.

"Good!" she opened her red lips, her voice excited and clear, sounding exceptionally pleasant in the quiet tent. "Order the reserve force to enter immediately through the third tunnel entrance and cut off their supply line from the enemy's rear! Make sure to intercept the fleeing soldiers, not a single one is to be let go!" She knew that Lin Xuan's plan was unfolding perfectly according to her vision, step by step towards victory.

The night was deep, and the smell of blood permeated the air. The flames of Withered Wood Ridge illuminated the figures of the soldiers fighting in blood. And Lin Xuan, like a cold god of war, in the darkness, with his astonishing martial prowess and precise command, was systematically burning down the Mongol supply line.

As the first rays of dawn peeked through, the fires at Withered Wood Ridge gradually extinguished, leaving only charred ruins and lingering smoke. Hundreds of supply carts turned to ashes, the Mongol commander and his elite guards were almost annihilated, and the remaining Mongol soldiers fled in all directions like stray dogs.

Lin Xuan stood on a high ridge, his night-vision clothing stained with specks of blood. His face looked somewhat weary in the morning light, but his deep eyes were filled with the joy of victory and immense confidence. He gazed towards Xiangyang City, a subtle curve forming on his lips.

This was a perfect victory.

Huang Rong stood on the city wall, gazing from afar at the spirited Lin Xuan. The morning breeze ruffled her silky black hair, further highlighting the ethereal beauty of her face.

Under the rosy dawn light, her already lovely face became even more captivating, an indescribable charm flowing from her eyes. Her clear, autumn-like eyes reflected Lin Xuan's figure, and complex emotions surged like a tide.

There was the relief and excitement of Xiangyang's great victory, and the sincere admiration for Lin Xuan's extraordinary talent. More than that, there was that complex feeling, born from him, both shameful and inseparable, quietly growing like vines, entwining her heart.

Chapter Twenty-Six: A Celebration Banquet

As the first golden rays of the rising sun broke free from the heavy leaden clouds in the east, tearing through the sky and scattering across the war-torn wilderness outside Xiangyang City, the Mongol encampment had already been reduced to a desolate, scorched earth. Billowing smoke, like a wounded dragon, shot straight into the sky from above the burned supply routes, obscuring half the horizon.

The air was filled with the pungent mixed smell of burning and blood, silently recounting the devastating surprise attack of the previous night.

Lin Xuan's plan to raid the supply routes at night had been a resounding success!

Caught in the predicament of destroyed supplies and absent reinforcements, the Mongol army's morale instantly collapsed, and they suffered heavy casualties. In the end, they were routed and fled backward in disarray like stray dogs. The Xiangyang defenders seized the opportunity to pursue, capturing a large amount of supplies and armaments that the Mongols had no time to burn, greatly replenishing the city's depleted reserves.

The Xiangyang City of the early morning was enveloped in an unprecedented atmosphere of jubilation. When the first batch of victorious soldiers returned to the city with the good news, the citizens at the city gate, from initial doubt to shock, finally erupted into earth-shattering cheers.

The roar seemed to be driving away the shadow of the Mongol army completely from above the city walls.

"We won! We really won!"

"Young Master Lin's divine strategy, a godsend!"

People ran through the streets, sharing the news, weeping with joy, tears streaming down their faces.

Guo Jing personally led the troops out of the city to assess the spoils of war. He looked at the burnt Mongol grain supplies and at Lin Xuan, whose face was covered in dust but whose spirit was high. A look of relief and admiration could not be suppressed on his square face.

"Xuan'er! You've rendered a great service again!" Guo Jing clapped Lin Xuan on the shoulder, his voice booming like a bell, filled with sincere praise. "If not for your ingenious plan, the Mongol grain supplies would likely not have been burned to this extent. Xiangyang's crisis has been greatly alleviated. You are truly Xiangyang's lucky star!"

Lin Xuan bowed respectfully. He attributed all the credit to Guo Jing and Huang Rong. "Master's Husband is too kind. This is all thanks to Master's Husband leading from the front, brave and fearless; and Master's brilliant planning and unparalleled strategy. Your Disciple's contributions were merely some clumsy tactics on paper. The actual combat required the bloody battles of Xiangyang's soldiers."

Guo Jing scratched his head and chuckled good-naturedly. "Xuan'er, you are too modest! Ha, you're right! The soldiers have all worked hard too!"

Huang Rong stood atop the city wall, gazing at the fires outside the city and the victorious soldiers. Her figure, bathed in the golden light of the early dawn, was adorned with a halo of sanctity, making her appear exceptionally graceful and delicate.

A pale pink silk robe fluttered in the wind, clinging to her exquisite curves like soft mist, swaying gently with the breeze, subtly outlining her heart-stirring form.

Her features were as beautiful as a painting, her skin like congealed fat. Her flawless cheeks glowed with a healthy luster in the sunlight, so pure and refined as to be untouched by the dust of the world.

At this moment, besides the fatigue from the previous night, her eyes held a complex emotion that was difficult to describe. She saw Lin Xuan surrounded by Guo Jing and the generals, while the surrounding citizens prostrated themselves in gratitude, shouting the names "Little Zhuge" and "Young Master Lin" in a deafening chorus.

Lin Xuan's fame had surpassed "Little Zhuge," becoming a household name in Xiangyang City and among the surrounding military and civilians. Wherever he went, people would flock to him, their eyes filled with reverence and hope, viewing him as the "godsend" who had turned the tide and saved them.

A smile, both pleased and complex, curved Huang Rong's lips. She was proud of Lin Xuan's achievements, a feeling akin to nurturing a treasure that had bloomed with dazzling brilliance.

But deep within her heart, the shame and confusion stemming from the "Bamboo Forest Kiss" intensified. Every word of praise the citizens showered on Lin Xuan felt like an invisible hammer striking at her hidden secret.

He had openly become Xiangyang's hero, yet in her most private memories, this "hero" had so boldly, so domineeringly violated her. This stark contrast made her feel even more conflicted and tormented.

Between them lay a secret, unknown to anyone, that made her heart race.

The intimate friction on horseback that night, the ultimate tenderness of their lips, and the feeling of her body completely losing control – all of it haunted her like a nightmare. Yet, when she looked at Lin Xuan again, his eyes were still clear, and his demeanor remained humble and respectful, as if it were all her hallucination.

This strange tranquility made it even harder for her to discern truth from falsehood.