Grievous news

White clouds drift lazily by, and the warm sun shines brightly.

The shimmering sea had returned to calm, and the broken logs and masts floated slowly with the waves.

Salun Agu stood high in the sky, looking down at the land where he had lived for so many years. It had been razed to the ground, the mountains collapsed, and the cities and towns moved.

He had only ever seen such a scene before, when the Confucian sage sealed away the sorcerer god.

That time, the area within a thousand miles was reduced to wasteland, and for the next three hundred years, no living beings appeared. It was only after the power of the two supreme beings dissipated that Jingshan City was rebuilt and reached its current scale.

Now, it has repeated itself once again, history repeating itself.

But this time, it wasn't the Confucian sage himself who made the move, nor was the shaman god at his peak. Not many people survived, but there were still quite a few.

Scattered in the distance, some watched, some meditated to heal their wounds, and some bandaged their injuries; none dared to return to investigate.

The army of Great Feng retreated.

Salun Agu's gaze fell upon the altar. His figure vanished abruptly, only to reappear on the altar a moment later, standing before the figure in blue robes.

Empress Joan of Arc, Irb, and the Uda Tower then descended beside the High Wizard.

Standing before them was a mangled human form, his body riddled with horribly cracked skin, not a single part intact.

His right arm, which once held the carving knife, was now covered in flesh and blood, revealing bones tinged with blood.

He was dressed in tattered blue clothes; the clothes were like him, and he was like the clothes.

From then on, the Great Feng had no more military gods.

The scholar's cap and carving knife left on their own not long ago, returning to the Central Plains.

Salun Agu said in a low voice, "Throughout the past thousand years in the Central Plains, among the many remarkable figures, you Wei Yuan, are one of them."

"Damn it, damn it, damn it."

Irbu's face twisted in anger as he said:

"How could he summon the Confucian sage? How could a mere warrior summon the Confucian sage? The sorcerer god had accumulated power for over a thousand years and had finally managed to break free of the seal, only to have it all destroyed by this scoundrel."

"I will lead my troops to massacre the Great Feng, slaughtering across 30,000 li, all the way to the capital."

"You look exactly like a crude warrior," Joan of Arc mocked.

Every Daoist who has fallen into demonic possession is proficient in the talent of provocation.

Joan of Arc stood with her hands behind her back, her immortal golden body gleaming, golden light intertwined with dark light, and said calmly:

"The Witch God has been sealed away, and Wei Yuan is dead. The situation is dire, but we haven't lost this battle yet. Now, it's time for you to fulfill your promises."

Salun Agu laughed and said, "Then I congratulate His Majesty in advance on his long life and long reign, overlooking the Central Plains."

Joan of Arc nodded slowly.

Salun Agu continued, "Uda Pagoda, spread the news of Wei Yuan's death throughout the Northeast, so that the Yan and Kang kingdoms can mobilize manpower to rebuild Jingshan City and force the Jing kingdom to withdraw its troops. Gather the remaining shamans to treat the wounded civilians and soldiers."

He issued a series of instructions for handling the aftermath.

This battle will surely spread throughout the Nine Provinces. He doesn't care what happens to the Great Feng, but it will surely stir up a storm of discussion in the three kingdoms within his territory.

This will be the most shameful day in the history of the Witchcraft Cult.

In a remote wilderness far from Jingshan.

"Aaaaaah!!!"

Nangong Qianrou's roar echoed across the sky, her voice filled with grief and despair, mixed with deep-seated hatred.

"Witch God, Witch God, Witch God."

He knelt on the ground, pounding his fists against it for a full fifteen minutes.

The white-robed Warlock walked up to him and handed him a brocade pouch. Nangong Qianrou, with tears streaming down her face, raised her head and stared at him blankly.

The second senior brother, Sun Xuanji, said, "Wei..."

After saying only one word, Nangong Qianrou snatched the brocade pouch like a madwoman, tore it open, and found a note inside.

Nangong Qianrou unfolded the note, read it, and tears welled up in her eyes again. After a long while, she composed herself, looked towards Jingshan, and murmured:

"Godfather, I will finish the game you didn't complete."

Someday in the rest of my life, I will return here and let iron hooves trample every inch of the land of the Witch God Sect, let the wheels of cannons crush the spine of the Witch God Sect, and turn this 60,000-mile-long land into scorched earth.

Sun Xuanji raised his hand and gently wiped away the existence of this heavy cavalry, ensuring that no one in the world would remember them.

Cloud Deer Academy.

In the bamboo grove behind the mountain, in a bamboo house.

Zhao Shou sat motionless in the hall, like a statue.

He has maintained this posture for over a month, and a thin layer of dust has accumulated on the table in front of him.

Suddenly, Zhao Shou stirred and turned to look out the window.

Outside the open window, the sky was a clear, deep blue, with rolling mountains. Two beams of light flew across the vast landscape, like shooting stars streaking across the sky, and gently landed on the table in front of Zhao Shou.

Dean Zhao Shou breathed a sigh of relief, slowly stood up, dusted himself off, and bowed respectfully.

It's unclear whether they were worshipping the two sacred objects or the woman in blue.

The Imperial Palace.

With the curtains drawn low, Emperor Yuanjing, sitting cross-legged on a futon, slowly opened his eyes.

He remained silent for a moment, then revealed a smile that seemed to be a mixture of excitement, pleasure, and arrogance.

Emperor Yuanjing strolled up to the pavilion, gazing at the layers of red walls and the undulating golden tiles. He opened his arms to welcome the wind and slowly said:

"My era has begun."

Star-Gazing Tower, Eight Trigrams Platform.

The supervisor glanced at the palace, smiled, and lowered his head to drink.

Life is not worth living.

At the Xu Residence, Xu Qi'an felt a sudden, sharp pain in his chest.

"What's wrong? Why does my chest hurt all of a sudden?"

He frowned, wanting to make a self-deprecating remark, like, "Even a peak fifth-rank cultivator can have a heart attack?"

But for some reason, a sense of panic lingered in his heart.

The North.

In the camp of the Great Feng and the Demon Barbarian Alliance, Xu Xinnian sat at the table, staring at the map in deep thought.

He had become thinner and stronger, still handsome, but his skin was no longer fair; the sun beyond the Great Wall had darkened his complexion, and the wind and sand of the North had roughened his skin.

He was still that proud scholar, but no longer so sharp-tongued; he was more composed and reserved.

The war made him grow up quickly, and the girls in the Imperial Academy of Music helped him transform into a man, but they couldn't give him maturity.

It was the fallen comrades, the battles that teetered on the brink of life and death, and the enemies he personally slew that truly matured him.

Chu Yuanzhen rushed into the tent with a hurried step, and said with a smile, "Cijiu, I have some exciting news for you."

Xu Erlang pondered for a moment, then said, "No troops have been dispatched from the camp, so it's not a victory. What's going on?"

Chu Yuanzhen clenched his fist and exclaimed excitedly, "The Jing Kingdom has withdrawn its troops!"

late at night.

The candlelight flickered dimly. Xu Qi'an, holding a fragment of the Earth Book at the table, relayed the message: "[Today, I explored the underground again with the Imperial Advisor. The late Emperor has not returned. Logically, such a formidable figure should not have vanished without a trace.]"

[Second: He might have already replaced Emperor Yuanjing and become emperor in the palace. Oh, I forgot, he was Emperor Yuanjing.]

Xu Qi'an was very concerned about the late emperor's disappearance. A high-level expert who had been secretly cultivating for forty years had vanished without a trace after his hiding place was discovered.

This made Xu Qi'an extremely anxious, because the late emperor was Yuan Jing, and Yuan Jing was the late emperor, and he had a great enmity with Yuan Jing. Similarly, he had a great enmity with the late emperor.

Now, a top-tier expert is lurking in the shadows, ready to strike at any moment.

Who isn't afraid?

Of course, one could also hope that all of Yuan Jing's erratic behavior was a pretense. The late emperor was a top-tier master, and a master should have the demeanor of a master and wouldn't care about someone as insignificant as himself.

The Prince of Huai was killed by the gods; what does that have to do with me, Xu Qi'an?

If it were any other top-tier expert, Xu Qi'an might have held onto some illusions, but the other party was the former emperor, who had been corrupted by the leader of the Earth Sect.

A top-tier master filled with malice and with an inherently evil nature is bound to be vengeful.

[Four: Let's consider a different approach. What do you all think was the cultivation system that Emperor Yuanjing, or rather, the late Emperor, followed?]

In the Earth Book chat group, Chu Zhuangyuan, one of the wisest members, raised a question.

The late emperor lost his virginity early, which was tantamount to cutting off his own path in Martial Dao. He followed Luo Yuheng in cultivating for twenty-one years, undoubtedly following the path of the Human Sect. Xu Qi'an replied:

[Three: Human Religion Forum.]

[Four: This is just as I thought. So, what are the drawbacks of the Human Sect's cultivation method? The karmic fire burns the body. The late emperor was of very high rank; like the Imperial Preceptor, he needed to rely on the power of destiny to suppress the karmic fire. Therefore, he certainly wouldn't leave the capital.]

[One: No, you're wrong. The late emperor was different from Luo Yuheng. Luo Yuheng needed the position of Imperial Preceptor to borrow fortune. The late emperor was the emperor himself, and thus possessed fortune.]

Huaiqing is one of the smartest people, otherwise there would be another smart person.

Ah, is that so? Then it's alright, Chu Yuanzhen thought to himself.

[One: There is a supervisor in the capital. Since he is not under the imperial lineage, he definitely won't stay in the capital for long. He must have left the capital. As for where he went and what he is doing, it's impossible to guess.]

The most typical method is to determine the late emperor's location based on his intentions. In other words, to know where he is, you must first know what he wants to do. Xu Qi'an rubbed his temples.

According to current information, the late emperor devoured his two sons, Yuanjing and the Prince of Huai, in his quest for immortality.

He lived forty years longer than he wished.

Therefore, the late emperor's ultimate goal remained immortality.

The problem is, no matter how powerful the late emperor was, could he have been as powerful as Emperor Gaozu or Emperor Wuzong? Could he have been as powerful as the Confucian sage?

These figures have all passed away, let alone the late emperor.

"According to the rule of heaven and earth that those who possess great fortune cannot live forever, the late emperor was actually over 80 years old, and the Confucian sage only lived to 82. This means that the late emperor was actually nearing the end of his life. Of course, people's physical condition cannot be generalized, and the late emperor may have lived a year longer than the Confucian sage in a state of extreme anger."

"If I were the late emperor, I would do anything to seek the way to immortality, but... but how exactly should I do it?"

It's not that he's not smart enough, but that he has too little access to information, and he can't even find a direction to make a hypothesis.

What exactly did the late emperor do?

Speaking of which, it's been almost half a month since Duke Wei went on his campaign, and we still don't know how the battle is going.

One night, nearly a month after the army set out on its campaign, the moonlight was as clear and bright as water.

"Da da da"

On the official road outside the capital, a fast horse galloped towards them. The courier, his lips cracked and covered in dust, reined in his horse and called out in a hoarse voice:

"Open the city gates! Urgent dispatch!"

They passed through the outer city, the inner city, and the imperial city, all the way to the palace.

In the dead of night, the Prime Minister Wang was awakened by a series of urgent knocks on the door. The old steward pounded on the door and called out, "Master, Master, wake up."

In the pitch-black room, candlelight was lit, and the maid who was sleeping in the outer room put on her clothes, held up a candlestick, and hurriedly ran to open the door.

A moment later, a maidservant entered with small, quick steps and whispered, "Master, news has come from the yamen that there is an urgent report that needs to be delivered by express courier."

The Grand Secretary, being old, was awakened in the middle of the night, his exhaustion barely concealed. He rubbed his temples and said, "Change your clothes."

Important government offices like the Cabinet have staff on duty at night to prevent such emergencies.

Whether it was an urgent delivery of 800 li or 600 li, the couriers ran like their lives depended on it; it was normal for several horses to die from exhaustion. The goods could arrive at any time.

With the help of his maids, Wang, the chief minister, put on his official robes and rode in a carriage. Amidst the rumbling of the wheels, he entered the palace and arrived at the Cabinet Office.

The Grand Secretary Wang strode quickly into the hall, sat down behind his large desk, and slowly said, "Report!"

The official on night duty in the hall immediately presented the urgent dispatch, which was kept tightly by his side and could only be opened by a few Grand Secretaries.

The Grand Secretary Wang took out a cutting knife, pried open the sealing wax, and with a soft rustling of the pages, he pulled out the newspaper and began to read.

He immediately fell into a deathly silence.

Six Grand Secretaries, including Qian Qingshu of the Wuying Hall, Chen Qi of the Jianji Hall, and Zhao Tingfang of the Dongge Pavilion, arrived together. They entered the Cabinet and went to the Chief Grand Secretary's Hall.

To their astonishment, the Grand Secretary, the powerful leader of the royal faction, seemed to have aged several years in an instant.

His face was ashen, and his slightly red-rimmed eyes, somewhat cloudy, seemed vacant, as if he were immersed in some kind of somber atmosphere from which he could not break free.

Just yesterday, Prime Minister Wang was perfectly fine. What kind of blow could have caused him to become so devastated overnight?

The Grand Secretary raised his head, looked around at the assembled scholars, and said slowly in a low voice, "Wei Yuan has sacrificed himself."

He paused, then added, "Of the 100,000 troops, only 16,000 were evacuated."

Boom!

Everyone seemed to have been struck by lightning, their minds and bodies shaken, their faces frozen in shock.

Qian Qingshu, a Grand Secretary of the Wuying Hall, murmured, "This, this is impossible, impossible."

The Grand Secretary's tone softened somewhat, and he said in a deep voice:

"I know this is hard to believe, but for now, it is the truth. My lords, please put aside any negative emotions and listen to me. This battle has been fought very strangely. The report has already reached the palace. Let's discuss this before the morning court session."

As dawn approached, the scholars, looking weary and worried, departed.

The Grand Secretary beckoned to a trusted aide and, expressionless, ordered, "Send someone to the Xu Residence and inform Xu Qi'an of the situation regarding the war in the Northeast."

Not giving notes is to avoid leaving any evidence against them.

After his trusted confidants had left, Chief Minister Wang walked to the window, gazing at the darkest night before dawn, remaining silent for a long time, like a statue.

Wei Yuan, without you, how desolate the court will be in the future.

Before dawn, a knocking sound simultaneously woke Zhong Li and Xu Qi'an inside the room.

The latter responded, "Who?"

Old Zhang's voice came from the gatehouse. "Dalang, someone's looking for you. They claim to be from the Cabinet."

The cabinet? Grand Secretary Wang sent someone to see me at this time?!

Xu Qi'an immediately stood up, put on his robe, and said, "Take me to see him."

After leaving the room, Xu Qi'an walked to the outer hall and saw an unfamiliar middle-aged man dressed in official robes standing in the hall.

"Xu Yinluo!"

The middle-aged official instinctively, subconsciously, uttered this title.

Xu Qi'an, accustomed to the "conservative" mindset of people in the capital, asked directly, "Sir, what business do you have with me?"

The middle-aged official said, "The Grand Secretary asked me to pass on a message to you."

As expected, Chief Minister Wang Xu Qi'an nodded. "Please speak."

The middle-aged official hesitated, and after a long pause, whispered, "Duke Wei... sacrificed himself in the Northeast."

P. S.: Volume 2 is officially coming to an end. I'll probably still have about a week to write. It'll be high-energy throughout.