An Unprepared War

That night, at the Jizhou Governor's Office.

Everywhere else had already gone dark, but Commander Liu's room was still lit. The occasional night-patrol soldier who passed by could not help sighing at Commander Liu's diligence and toil.

Yet only the man named Liu Yanran knew that, given any choice, only a ghost would want to still be working at this hour. Especially for a martial artist, a healthy routine was the only way to ensure sufficient combat strength. Staying up all night was practically crippling himself.

But even so, Liu Yanran had no choice but to work through the night.

All because that damned Wang Gaocheng had left behind far too much of a mess.

Since Wang Gaocheng disliked Northern Ji's murderous weapons of war, he usually did nothing but prattle emptily about abstruse theories, play the zither, and lecture on scriptures. By now, the replacement of weapons among Jizhou's garrison had become severely backlogged. Liu Yanran himself had also been repeatedly dragged off by Wang Gaocheng to learn how to be some elegant famed gentleman, delaying much military business that should have been handled long ago—fortunately, Wang Gaocheng was dead in the end, but all these accumulated matters still had to be dealt with.

"Fortunately, Northern Ji now has new grinding craftsmen."

His brush paused. Liu Yanran raised his head and looked toward the bright moon beyond the window.

The moon hung high in the sky, its radiance red as blood.

It was perfect weather for killing.

"What a pity..."

With a sigh, Liu Yanran eventually turned his gaze back.

If Wang Gaocheng had not delayed him, if the soldiers under his command had been fully equipped with weapons and armor, then a season like this would have been the perfect time to muster the troops and march north.

He could gallop across the grasslands, point his sword toward the northern desert, and perhaps, just like his name, carve his achievement into Mount Yanran.

But now...

He still had to settle these preliminary preparations first.

He had to wait. He had to wait a little longer.

The Jizhou Governor's Office was not ready yet.

Meanwhile, at the distant Yang Family Fort.

Within the fortified settlement, the elderly, weak, women, and children had all gone to sleep. Yet the Yang Clan's able-bodied men were still struggling to rebuild the burned ancestral hall. Even with Carpenter Li offering guidance at the side, the work progressed at an extremely slow pace.

Because throughout the process, all manner of accidents kept occurring.

At first, the Yang Clan members thought they had merely been unlucky. But as the accidents multiplied, many came to believe they had angered their ancestors and brought down punishment upon themselves.

Thus, even knowing that working through the night might not help, the Yang Clan members still labored day and night, hoping only that the spirits of their ancestors in heaven would see their efforts and forgive them for the crime of allowing the ancestral hall to burn.

"So where is Sanlang?"

Looking up at the ancestral hall, which had already begun to take shape, the aged Yang Xuan thought of someone.

"He still hasn't come?"

"Sanlang? He said he was going to practice the saber, that he would use the saber in his hand to carve out a great name for himself, just like our ancestors did."

A Yang Clan member answered casually, his words carrying a trace of mockery.

It was not that he meant to ridicule him. Rather, Yang Sanlang had indeed become the laughingstock of the entire Yang Family Fort. He had picked up some curved saber from who knew where, then declared that he would win fame as their ancestors had—how could that possibly happen?

Their Yang Clan ancestor had followed the founding High Emperor of Great Chen through eastern campaigns and western conquests before forging such tremendous renown. Even though the Jizhou Yang Clan had now declined to the point that they could not even gather a hundred able-bodied young men from within the clan, they still took pride whenever their ancestors were mentioned.

And what was Yang Sanlang supposed to be? His poor judgment had provoked a fierce dragon crossing the river, and he had even lost the ancestral treasured saber. Trash like him thought he was worthy of imitating their ancestors?

"Enough, enough. Sanlang is a Yang family man no matter what. Since he has the will, let him do as he pleases."

With a sigh, Yang Xuan ultimately stopped paying attention to it.

Even if Yang Sanlang had once been the most outstanding youth in the clan, the Yang Clan had more important matters to attend to now.

The clan's ancestral hall needed rebuilding. The crops harvested from the fields needed handling. There was also Commander Liu's demand for provisions... all those miscellaneous matters required the Yang Family Fort to give its all.

Yet all of them had piled together at once.

"The wind is blowing from the north..."

Gazing at the bright moon in the sky, Yang Xuan felt a sudden, unaccountable dread.

He could only hope that the Hu people would not come at a time like this.

They had to wait. Wait a little longer.

After all, the Yang Family Fort was not ready yet.

At midnight, Du Chengfeng was still carrying out his pre-sleep training in the small courtyard.

Carrying logs, leaning against trees, Butcher's Pig Dissection, Tiger-and-Dragon Two Forms—before sleeping each night, Du Chengfeng practiced every combat technique he had mastered. As for the Crimson-Piercing Art and Blog Wrestling, they had long since become woven into his life, becoming everyday instinct.

Whenever he walked down the road and a passerby came near, his first glance would target the person's vital points, followed by an assessment of their posture and center of gravity. Although Carpenter Li always said he felt uncomfortable under that sort of gaze, the training had proven remarkably effective for Du Chengfeng.

But it was not enough.

To defeat the man named Hexi Qing, his current accumulation was still not enough.

He needed to become stronger. Stronger still. Stronger than that.

Fortunately, he had already secured Commander Liu's route. Every arsenal in Jizhou was now open for him to grind at will. Commander Liu could obtain weapons, while Du Chengfeng could obtain the memories attached to the Sha Qi. It was undoubtedly a win-win arrangement.

What was more, from that command banner, he had already comprehended a way to fight Hexi Qing.

"I'll be ready soon. I'll be ready soon."

At the thought, Du Chengfeng clenched his fists.

It was not as though Du Chengfeng had never considered running, never considered hiding far away. Carpenter Li had even said that if he fled south, all the way into the heartland of Great Chen, could Hexi Qing really chase him there no matter how fierce he was?

He could.

Only Du Chengfeng himself knew that the man called Hexi Qing truly could.

He was a monster who had already grasped the Sha Qi of weapons, an opponent who could level up simply by killing. Yes, Du Chengfeng could choose to run, but could he really run faster than Hexi Qing could kill?

Retreat was true death. Only by gathering his courage and charging forward could he seize that sole chance at survival.

Only now, only before Hexi Qing had truly begun using murder to grow stronger, did he have a chance to settle this mortal enemy once and for all.

"Anyway, sleep first!"

After finishing his training, Du Chengfeng took a bath and returned to bed.

Resting and recuperating were essential. During the day, he still had to go to the Jizhou Arsenal to grind those weapons. He needed to grow stronger, grow even stronger, before he could ensure that nothing went wrong.

He had to wait a little longer. Wait a little longer.

In the end, when it came to facing Hexi Qing, he was not ready yet.

The following morning, Du Chengfeng had just woken up and was preparing to ride to Ji Town when he received a panic-stricken message delivered by the Yang family.

Last night, Ji Town had fallen.

Hexi Qing, vanguard general of the Azure Sheep Tribe, had slain Liu Yanran, commander of Jizhou's troops, in battle.