Indeed, Zhao Cheng had burned the plank road leading in and out of the Southern Wasteland, but entering the Southern Wasteland did not necessarily mean taking that route.
Just like the Five Great Masters of old: with the bodies of Human Immortals, sheer cliffs thousands of zhang high were as easy to tread as level ground. Wherever they wished to go, they could simply travel in a straight line.
Beyond that, the mountains and forests were vast. If a group of nimble fighters traveled light, they too could cross countless perilous peaks and wild ridges to reach the Southern Wasteland.
It was simply that such a method was unsuited for marching armies or conducting trade.
Armies and merchants alike needed carts and horses to transport provisions and goods. An army could hardly go naked onto the battlefield. If their attack swept through like splitting bamboo, that was one thing—but the moment they encountered the slightest obstacle, the army would immediately collapse, beyond all hope of recovery. An army of a hundred thousand could well be routed by five thousand men.
Thus, whenever an army marched to war, upon reaching any place, its first step was always to build a military camp.
Moreover, the mountains were filled with cliffs and precipices that were difficult to cross. If one detoured around them, the journey might become two or three times longer. And from the Southern Wasteland to Qing Province, mountain ranges stretched without end, making the road even harder to travel.
The main road out of the Southern Wasteland, however, had been forged over long years by generations of craftsmen, who carved roads through the mountains and built plankways. Only through the accumulation of countless generations had such a lifeline been opened.
Thus, under these circumstances, Zhao Cheng could learn news from