Chapter 48

Bai Lang couldn't use voice transmission, so he said nothing. "Young hero, there's no need to concern yourself. I'll come back to trouble you later." The voice sounded in his ear again. Bai Lang nodded—this was the first martial artist with internal energy he'd seen in this world. Governor Sun wanted a fierce general like him under his command, but to say so outright would be a slap in Governor Deng's face. So he could only discuss and coordinate the battle plans with Governor Deng as politely as possible, hoping to place such a powerful warrior on the main line of attack.

The generals all thumped their chests and promised to charge alongside Bai Lang. "We'll take that bandit to the capital and have him executed by slicing!" But before that, there was an urgent matter to deal with: Zhang Xianzhong was attacking Xiangyang, and an urgent appeal for help had already arrived. Bai Lang didn't know whether Zhang Xianzhong was supposed to have taken Xiangyang by this point in history. As far as he knew, wasn't this "Eight-Eyed King" supposed to have gone to Sichuan?

In any case, Governor Deng was supposed to go and save Xiangyang, since it fell within his jurisdiction. But Zhang Xianzhong had hundreds of thousands of troops under his command, while Governor Deng—who would later be able to gather soldiers from all over—would be lucky to field ten thousand. That was the downside of having no solid power base. Bai Lang didn't care, though. He was just going to fight, and in the chaos of battle, there probably wasn't anyone who could kill him. Now that he had the Azure Dragon Saber, and with the Wild Goose Feather Saber as well, even hooks and fishing nets probably wouldn't be a problem.

Governor Sun also gave Bai Lang a gift. "This is... a self-igniting matchlock? In other words, a flintlock." It wasn't cheap, but given the gunpowder commonly used by the Ming Army at the time, well... The pistol would make a nice collectible, and Bai Lang thought he could take it home with him. But use it in battle? Its power might not even get through his Golden Bell Shield. Of course, if the muzzle were pressed against him, it could probably break through, but from twenty paces away? Probably not.

The gifts from the generals were what really gave Bai Lang a headache. "I clearly said I practice the Thirteen Great Protectors' Adamantine Bell Shield. Do they even understand what hardening the body means? Why are they giving me women?" The generals had all sent pretty young women—at least, women they considered pretty. Bai Lang could only smile wryly. He couldn't break his vow of chastity yet; he'd have to reach the fourth stage first. After that, there'd be no need to keep practicing Virginity Cultivation. Though Bai Lang still didn't understand what this Virginity Cultivation was all about. He knew that aside from women, plenty of other things could make you come. Did that mean as long as you didn't put it in, your vow of chastity remained unbroken?

It was probably a matter of psychology, but Bai Lang wasn't about to test that theory. He figured he could break through to the fourth stage before he turned twenty, and besides, this sort of thing really wasn't suitable for someone too young. Most importantly, none of these women fit Bai Lang's tastes. "They're thin, and though their faces are nice, they've got small chests and bottoms. They all look like little girls who haven't grown up yet. I'm not a lolicon."

More than three thousand Ming soldiers headed south toward Xiangyang with Governor Deng, grumbling all the way. They hadn't received their reward money. They'd cut off plenty of bandit heads, after all, and with no money paid out after their deeds were recorded, morale was faltering. Governor Deng had no choice—he really was broke. To a governor, someone like Bai Lang was a truly fine general, since he wanted fame and rank rather than money. That was wonderful; the imperial court liked generals like that too. A few titles would be enough to fob him off.

But the other Ming soldiers wanted money. Governor Deng could only prioritize his own personal guard, paying them a reduced reward. As for the rest of the troops, he could only promise that once the Ministry of War had verified their achievements and the Ministry of Revenue issued the silver, they'd be paid in full at the earliest opportunity. Everyone knew that was a promise fit to fool ghosts. If Great Ming really had silver, would it be in such a sorry state? So aside from the hundred or so men in the personal guard, the whole army had no morale to speak of.

If they hadn't feared Bai Lang's strength, these men might even have mutinied. Governor Deng had little authority—certainly far less than Governor Sun Chuanting or the late Supervisor Lu Xiangsheng, who had died in the service of the country. Those men could raise their own armies; Governor Deng was lucky to have a hundred or so in his personal guard. Still, Governor Deng didn't think he was all that bad. He believed he'd won over an unrivaled warrior—Bai Lang. Hadn't even Governor Sun been discussing troop deployments with him so politely? Governor Deng had passed the imperial examinations too. Surely he could see that Governor Sun wanted to make use of Bai Lang's strength.

The scholar had also come to see Bai Lang that night. As it turned out, he was there on Governor Sun's behalf, trying to win Bai Lang over. This Mr. Qin Wujiu was from Shaanxi and had passed the Juren Scholar examinations. He now served as an adviser under Governor Sun, but he also held an official rank. In his words, he voiced an intense hatred for the rebels. He said the rebels were to blame for the state of affairs there, and he had little good to say about the current emperor. He spoke fondly of the late emperor, and even of Emperor Wanli.

"Mr. Qin, your internal energy and martial arts..." Bai Lang brought it up, and Mr. Qin smiled. "Qin Wujiu of Mount Hua." That was all he said. "Mount Hua? Is there a Mount Hua Sect?" Bai Lang asked curiously. Mr. Qin nodded. "All my martial arts came from Mount Hua. But these days, the Mount Hua Sect is full of traitors."

Bai Lang grew even more interested. Taking advantage of his youth, he pressed for more. "I'd like to hear the details." Qin Wujiu looked at Bai Lang and smiled. "I was weak and sickly as a child, so my family sent me to Mount Hua to cultivate. I'd heard that Mount Hua had an Internal Energy technique for nourishing the body. As soon as I arrived, I began practicing the Primal Chaos Technique. It didn't interfere with my studies, and by good fortune, I passed the Xiucai Scholar examinations at eighteen. After that, I left the mountain to take over the family business. I passed the Juren Scholar examinations at twenty-six, and, wouldn't you know it, bandits were causing trouble that very year."

Qin Wujiu sighed and said no more about what followed. But he did tell Bai Lang that when he returned to Mount Hua, he'd found his fellow disciples, master, and uncles talking about joining the Righteous Army. That had been three years earlier. He'd left the Mount Hua Sect then and there. "My martial arts are indeed the authentic teachings of Mount Hua. What about your skills, Young Hero Bai?"

Bai Lang saw no reason to hide it. "The Thirteen Great Protectors' Adamantine Bell Shield. I've practiced it since childhood, training from the outside in until I developed a breath of true energy. As for my fist and foot techniques, Mr. Qin has probably already figured them out."

Qin Wujiu tapped a finger on the table. "Are you practicing the Tiger Form?" His words sounded like a question, but his tone was certain. Of course he could tell—there was a giant, human-shaped tiger sitting right in front of him. Eventually, they exchanged some insights into martial arts, though both tacitly avoided discussing internal energy. Even Bai Lang, who'd read his share of wuxia novels, knew that people generally didn't share secrets about internal energy.

So they talked about interesting stories from the martial world instead: the history of the Mount Hua Sect and the forces that currently held sway among martial artists.