Chapter 587: - Demons Advent!

“Oh? Is that so?”

The voice came from within the sea of fire behind him.

The familiar tone.

The familiar voice.

Even that same familiar casualness.

Count Pingye did not hurry to turn around.

Instead, he smiled and used the back of his hand to wipe the corner of his eye.

Then he said to Fourth Lady:

“See? Every time I say something bad about him, he suddenly appears out of nowhere. I knew this time would be the same, so I did it deliberately.”

Fourth Lady smiled faintly.

Even though she knew perfectly well it had not been deliberate at all.

The earlier hysteria, the darkness pushed to its absolute limit, was not something a man could simply perform at will.

That had been real emotion.

In truth, for one instant earlier, Fourth Lady herself had also felt lost.

Because the state her Master had entered was unquestionably the kind Demon Kings loved most.

Utterly unrestrained.

Completely without restraint.

There would no longer be any boundary on how far they could play.

They could lead armies and sing at the top of their lungs together.

And if they truly played so hard everything collapsed, at worst they would withdraw to the mountains and wilderness and open an inn again.

They could receive travelers who might not appear even a few times a month.

Cultivate.

Chat.

Talk nonsense.

And if that life grew boring, they could always draw up a new plan.

If circumstances changed, perhaps they would simply come back down the mountain and play another round.

Emperors, kings, generals, and ministers constantly spoke of taking all beneath Heaven as a chessboard.

But in truth, they did not possess the relaxed state of mind of real players.

The Demon Kings did.

And yet

Fourth Lady also understood that absolute freedom was itself a kind of unfreedom.

Seeing the joyful tears in her Master’s eyes, as the woman who belonged to “him,” she found herself quietly relieved.

Before anyone could know whether the unrestrained future was truly the life they wanted, maintaining the present situation was actually a rather good choice.

At least the present was not bad.

Count Pingye let out a long breath.

Then he turned.

He saw Tian Wujing walking out from beneath the curtain of fire.

There was no imagined layer of black soot.

No body covered in burns as common sense insisted there should be.

He did not even stagger.

Some people wore many masks.

Different masks for different moments.

And nearly everyone experienced valleys in life.

No matter how powerful or refined a person seemed, when seriously ill, he would still look weak.

Only Tian Wujing seemed to remain Tian Wujing at every moment, in every place.

He simply stood there.

And once there, he seemed as though he would stand forever.

If it were anyone else, Zheng Fan might have assumed the man was putting on an act.

Because Zheng Fan himself loved acting.

Lazy and leisurely in his own residence.

Heroic and energetic before the soldiers and civilians of Snow Sea Pass.

But Tian Wujing did not need to act.

What other people found too heavy for life itself to bear, to Tian Wujing was merely a reason to straighten his back by instinct.

No pain.

No strain.

In his eyes, that was simply how it should be.

There was no fierce embrace.

No burst of wild laughter.

Zheng Fan had claimed earlier that everything had been deliberate, but under the pressure of genuine emotion, he still looked somewhat dazed.

Not dead.

Still here.

Fuck.

He had no idea where the courage came from.

Perhaps this moment would become the absolute peak of Count Pingye’s entire life.

And truthfully, it really was a peak.

Zheng Fan clenched his right hand into a fist.

He stepped forward.

Swung.

And punched Tian Wujing, who had just walked out of the sea of fire, directly in the face.

Bang!

The fist hit Tian Wujing.

Zheng Fan did not hold back.

Did not reduce the force.

After all, Count Pingye knew perfectly well that even a full-force punch from himself would amount to little more than scratching an itch for Prince of Jingnan.

Then

Tian Wujing was knocked backward.

“...” Zheng Fan.

“Knocked flying” would have been an exaggeration.

If experts at the Sword Saint’s level fought, then getting blasted or flung through the air would be entirely natural.

Count Pingye did not possess the strength to split mountains.

Still, seeing Tian Wujing knocked to the ground by one punch created the same visual impact as watching a towering mountain suddenly collapse.

Then an intense terror rose inside Count Pingye’s heart.

People drinking afternoon tea or nighttime wine often liked to sigh about how strange and unpredictable life could be, just to enhance the fragrance of tea or alcohol.

But Zheng Fan absolutely did not want to become a living example of that strangeness.

What if Old Tian had survived the Fire Phoenix, forced himself to walk out on his final breath, and then Zheng Fan killed him with one punch?

That would be so absurd it would feel like life itself had been soaked in a vat of sauce and kneaded up and down over and over again.

“Fuck me!”

Coming back to himself, Count Pingye immediately rushed forward and helped Tian Wujing up.

Fortunately, Tian Wujing did not look like a man at death’s door.

He did not even seem interested in settling accounts over Zheng Fan’s punch.

How could Prince of Jingnan, a man capable of unraveling the most chaotic battlefield thread by thread, fail to understand what Zheng Fan had meant?

There was simply no need to obsess over it.

No need to drag it out.

No need even to say it aloud.

“Your Highness, you’re not dead?”

Count Pingye asked.

Then he laughed at his own question.

Tian Wujing glanced at Zheng Fan.

“How are you here?”

As the commander of an army, abandoning his post, leaving his troops behind, taking a risk to rush here...

This was a grave military crime.

Count Pingye answered without even thinking:

“I had a dream. Dreamed Your Highness burned to death. So I came.”

Little Sixth had once said that as Imperial Father grew older and his health worsened, what he increasingly wanted was genuine concern between father and son.

That was simply human nature.

The Son of Heaven was still a man.

He could not escape it.

But for those above, emotions of this kind were welcomed only when they themselves wanted them.

When they did not, such emotions became irritating.

First, because those in high positions often needed to cast aside many ordinary human feelings when doing certain things and could not allow themselves to be disturbed.

Throughout history, the overwhelming majority of benevolent sovereigns praised by historians and scholars had one trait in common: they did almost nothing.

Second, those above were born into loneliness and insecurity.

When a man was poor, he wondered who would bother plotting against him.

Once rich, it seemed everyone wanted a share of his wealth.

An emperor possessed the entire realm.

That insecurity only grew stronger.

But Count Pingye could not be bothered with any of that.

At the same time, he knew Prince of Jingnan would not bother with it either.

Yes.

Because of Prince of Jingnan’s support, Count Pingye had gained enormous advantages in his growth.

But Count Pingye had also spent plenty of time with his own head tied to his belt.

To say something unpleasant, ordinary men who missed an opportunity, or failed to seize one, might simply waste away their entire lives.

Zheng Fan had never possessed that problem.

He began the game with Seven Demon Kings.

Living a quiet and ordinary life would have been the truly difficult outcome.

The words had already reached Tian Wujing’s lips.

Then he let the matter of Zheng Fan abandoning his post go.

For a commander who governed through severe military law, this was a major taboo.

Because he could not possibly execute Zheng Fan.

At the same time, Zheng Fan understood Tian Wujing would not kill him.

That was precisely why he had stated the truth so openly.

“Your Highness, you’re really not dead?”

Count Pingye asked again.

Even while supporting Tian Wujing, the whole thing still felt unreal.

To use the most clichéd possible line:

It felt like a dream.

“You wanted this Prince to die?”

“No. I just thought Your Highness might have deliberately gone looking for death.”

“This Prince gave it the chance. It still failed to kill this Prince.”

“...” Zheng Fan.

“This fire will destroy Ying Capital,” Tian Wujing said.

“Well, that saves us some trouble. But this subordinate thinks the Regent may have done it deliberately.”

“He wants to build a new stove. We wanted to end the war early. Each takes what he needs.”

“My elder brother-in-law has ideas and ability. Give him ten or twenty years and he might genuinely forge a new Chu. Generally speaking, rulers of restoration come with the whole framework for restoring a realm. Your Highness needs to take care of your health. There may still be plenty of times in the future when you’ll need to come back out and hold up the stage.”

“Ten years? Twenty?”

“A man has to give himself some reason to keep living,” Zheng Fan said.

One enormous dream.

One enormous fire.

And now a moment when Tian Wujing looked largely unharmed while actually being weakened to the extreme.

Some things could finally be said openly.

“Ying Capital is destroyed. The Chu will have even less ability to continue fighting than we do. When this war ends is now in our hands. Nian Yao’s army cannot move north. He can only grit his teeth and march south to stabilize the situation. Zhennan Pass will fall without an attack. With you guarding Zhennan Pass, your elder brother-in-law will not be able to make much trouble.”

No one understood Zheng Fan’s ability better than Tian Wujing.

Everyone beneath Heaven believed Count Pingye had repeatedly achieved great military merit and grown because Prince of Jingnan valued him.

In truth, many of Count Pingye’s achievements had been strokes of genius made possible precisely because Prince of Jingnan let him act freely.

People said Great Yan’s Southern Marquis used troops like a god and personally possessed terrifying strength.

But Great Yan’s Count Pingye was equally exceptional in local governance and military affairs.

Most importantly, he was very selfish.

A man with immense ability and immense selfishness, stationed at Zhennan Pass and overseeing eastern Jin, would make Chu and its Regent suffer enormously.

An ordinary military man, even one very capable at fighting, would find it difficult to produce much effect from the nearly ruined lands of eastern Jin.

Only Count Pingye possessed the ability to raise fish in a desert.

With him there, eastern Jin would remain secure.

Prince of Jingnan had planned that before the campaign even began.

Once the war ended, he had already chosen the man who would remain behind.

In fact, on this point, he had already reached an understanding with the man in the Yan court.

That was why Princess Xiong Liqing had entered the capital and received investiture, making Zheng Fan a proper Imperial Son-in-Law. In name, that officially sealed his influence over Chu affairs.

That was why he had been given the title General-in-Chief of the Cheng State. In practical terms, it laid the groundwork for him to govern eastern Jin later and establish his own administrative and military headquarters there.

Those above were called “above” because they stood higher and saw farther.

From the very beginning of the Chu campaign, Prince of Jingnan had practically forced Count Pingye to seize first merit, seize achievements, and completely consolidate and elevate the reputation that had already overflowed its vessel.

He was building momentum for Zheng Fan to be made Marquis and granted a frontier command.

So that every side would be left with nothing to say.

So that everyone would accept it willingly.

Count Pingye naturally wanted those things.

Because he had once spent time in Beifeng Commandery, he had long dreamed of possessing a Marquis Residence of his own.

But there were primary contradictions and secondary contradictions.

Many times, you could not grab both with one hand.

You had to seize the primary one.

“You know me. You have to be here. Otherwise, I’ll definitely go off the rails.”

“Heh.”

“I’m serious. I still don’t know whether Your Highness made this thousand-li rush because you truly intended to take Ying Capital, or because you had already decided you wanted to look around here and choose a tomb you liked.”

“Help this Prince stand.”

“All right.”

Zheng Fan supported Prince of Jingnan to his feet.

“The war is not finished,” Prince of Jingnan said.

“But sooner or later it will be,” Zheng Fan reminded him.

“Qian looks weak, but it can certainly endure. The Regent of Chu has cut off his own tail like a lizard. In truth, he possesses immense strategic vision. In the western desert, the young Barbarian prince has spent these years fighting east and west, trying to restore the glory of the Barbarian Royal Court. And Great Yan still carries the burden of the Three Jin lands. Its national strength looks like a cauldron at full boil. In truth, it could overturn at any moment. This year, Jin suffered endless rain. Yan suffered drought. Great Yan faces difficult times.”

A general who understood war would never stare only at the battlefield.

More precisely, once a man brought one discipline to its extreme, he naturally broke beyond its original boundary.

That was what breadth of vision meant.

“Your Highness, in my view, even if we immediately open peace talks after this war, Chu cannot recover its strength in less than ten years. Qian has to wait for its next Tattoo-Faced Chancellor. And even then, the civil officials have to refrain from framing him to death. The Barbarian Royal Court may be campaigning everywhere, but the desert is enormous and there are countless tribes. Even if it wants to move east one day, that absolutely will not happen soon. Yan and Jin are suffering disaster. So long as there is no war, they can survive. Bandits and starving mobs rise in rebellion? That is just a vent for anger. Suppress them and it’s done. I genuinely do not believe they possess the ability to become a prairie fire. Who the hell do they think they are?”

Great Yan’s field elites still existed.

So long as the Zhenbei Army and Jingnan Army remained, what could the starving common people really do?

Even if they rebelled, then what?

That was reality.

So long as the Zhenbei Army did not rebel, the Jingnan Army did not rebel, and the Ji imperial clan did not suffer brain damage and rebel against itself, then to say something ugly, even if every commoner in Great Yan raised a rebel banner, they still would not be enough for those two iron cavalry armies to plow over once.

Great Yan was not a foreign conquest dynasty.

It had not been founded by Barbarians or Savages.

Qin fell, and people said all beneath Heaven had suffered Qin for too long. Yet after Chen Sheng and Wu Guang died, the forces that truly dug out Qin’s foundation were the old aristocracies of the Six States.

Han fell. After the Yellow Turban Rebellion was suppressed, the men who truly overthrew the Han were regional warlords, men who on paper were still Han ministers and loyal subjects.

Sui fell. Eighteen rebel kings rose, yet the man who ultimately seized the realm was Li Yuan, who had been related by marriage to the Yang imperial house from the beginning.

People said the common people were like water, that water could carry a boat or overturn it.

But that was still mostly something people said.

So long as Chu and Qian did not throw everything into a northern expedition, so long as the Barbarians did not suddenly unite and march east, then however many disasters struck Great Yan, so long as the court did not tear itself apart, thinking the state could simply collapse was naïve.

No matter how hard the obstacle, endure it long enough and eventually you crossed.

“According to you, all beneath Heaven will now be at peace?” Tian Wujing asked.

“But that may not be a good thing.”

“Not a good thing?”

“Because Your Highness may not have any wars left to fight.”

Tian Wujing fell silent.

No wars left to fight.

What would Tian Wujing do then?

What could he still do?

Most likely, he would return to the old Marquis Residence in Litian City.

Sit on the threshold.

Watch the flowers and grass in the courtyard bloom and wither.

Just imagining that picture made Zheng Fan’s heart ache.

That time, the Marquis’s hair had turned white overnight.

And at the same time, the most terrifying possibility of all was this: once there were no more wars, Prince of Jingnan’s very existence would become difficult for those above to tolerate.

Du Juan’s death.

Would it be investigated?

Would it not?

The head of an entire commandery branch of the Secret Intelligence Department had supposedly turned out to be a hidden agent of Qian’s Silver-Armored Guard.

Was Qian’s Silver-Armored Guard really that fucking capable?

Why not claim some imperial consort was a Silver-Armored Guard agent too?

Why not claim the Third Prince’s cultured and refined mother was also one of their hidden agents?

Why not claim the Third Prince himself, who in his early years loved literature and cultivated friendships with scholars, had also received training and support from the Silver-Armored Guard?

Even if all of this truly could be explained perfectly cleanly.

Fine.

Fine.

But Prince of Jingnan had exterminated his own clan.

A man capable of exterminating his entire household.

Other than the present Emperor Yan, who would dare use him?

Emperor Yan dared.

Emperor Yan could suppress him.

Because the man sitting on the throne today was Ji Runhao.

What about the next generation?

Could the next Yan emperor suppress Prince of Jingnan?

Then, as Emperor Yan’s health clearly declined, would he worry whether his successor could control the mountain he himself had raised?

As long as the country still needed war, as long as one national campaign followed another, even commoners who flinched at the mere mention of the name “Marquis of Jingnan” still knew the man could fight.

They knew Great Yan still needed the Southern Marquis.

But once there was no more war?

He had given everything for the state.

For Great Yan.

And after the horses were released on the southern slopes and the weapons put away, the country he had sacrificed everything to build would no longer contain any place for him.

What sort of man was Prince of Jingnan?

How could he fail to understand the meaning hidden beneath Zheng Fan’s words?

Immediately, he asked:

“What do you intend to do?”

Zheng Fan released his hold.

Tian Wujing swayed slightly.

But remained standing.

Count Pingye stepped back three paces.

Then dropped to one knee in salute.

“This general respectfully asks Your Highness to die here in Ying Capital.”

At that moment, there was only fire around them.

No outsiders.

Any words could be spoken.

Anything could be said.

Most importantly, you, Tian Wujing, temporarily no longer possess the ability to kick my head apart.

Tian Wujing smiled.

“You have grown wings.”

His tone remained calm.

Yet within it lay something absolute.

“Your Highness, haven’t you noticed? Dying here is actually the best explanation. An explanation for every side.”

If you die, you can finally leave everything behind.

“This Prince has never disdained explaining himself to others. Zheng Fan, do you think this Prince is a man who deceives himself?”

The extermination of the Tian Clan was a sin Tian Wujing had personally created.

This karmic debt, he would repay.

He would repay it himself.

After dying on the battlefield.

After helping Great Yan unite all the Xia realms.

He had already sworn before his Great-Uncle.

Before the entire Tian household.

Tian Wujing would never die well.

He had willingly stepped onto this road of no return.

Every road beneath Heaven had a beginning and an end.

The reason he possessed no road backward was because he would never walk backward.

Never turn around.

And therefore there was naturally no road behind him.

Otherwise, Tian Wujing would not be Tian Wujing.

“Your Highness, there won’t be another great war for several years. If you die here, it’s good for Great Yan, good for the court, good for His Majesty. It gives everyone an explanation.”

“Your Highness, Tian Tian is still at home waiting for you. I’m only his godfather. I’ll have children of my own eventually. Look, my wife is right here. If we weren’t afraid a child would interfere with campaigning, we’d have started trying long ago. Once I have my own children, of course I won’t treat Tian Tian as well. Naturally I’ll favor my own children, right? Your Highness, Tian Tian really is adorable. He has never been sick since birth. Since he was tiny, he’s been perfectly happy playing by himself. He’s so well behaved. Raising him genuinely isn’t annoying at all. Your Highness, why did Sister Du Juan climb Mount Tianhu alone? Why did she entrust the child to the Sword Saint? Because she did not want to make things difficult for you. She knew your suffering. She wanted you to live peacefully. Wanted you and the child to live peacefully together. She did not want every road behind you completely sealed shut.”

Tian Wujing stood there.

Watching Zheng Fan continue speaking.

“And, Your Highness, I’m genuinely not flattering you. I flatter you often enough normally. There’s no need right now. I’m actually a fairly coldhearted person. So far in this world, only two people have ever treated me sincerely well for no reason. Treated Zheng Fan like a brother, like a junior. Protected me. One is already lying in a coffin. Your Highness...”

Count Pingye drew a deep breath and forced back his tears.

Then said:

“Brother. Please don’t lie down in one too. All right?”

Tian Wujing shook his head.

“Impossible.”

No number of reasons.

No excuses.

No pleas could drown out the screams of the Tian household on that night.

He could refuse command.

He could refuse the imperial decree.

If the eunuch bringing the decree died outside the gates of his Marquis Residence, so be it.

He could give one order and slaughter forty thousand Azure Luan prisoners, and so be it.

Some words.

Some feelings.

Worked on other men.

They did not work on Tian Wujing.

Zheng Fan opened his mouth and smiled.

Then he stood.

“In that case, Your Highness will have to forgive me. This subordinate intends to use force, while you are presently not quite yourself.”

Prince of Jingnan’s strength had made the Phoenix Nest Guards and Silver-Armored Guard completely abandon assassination as an option.

But finally, he had become weak once.

Count Pingye could barely imagine how long he would have to wait to see Tian Wujing this weak again.

Perhaps next time, he would not arrive in time.

Would not be able to save him.

Perhaps there would truly be no way to reverse Heaven.

“Yu Huaping, do me a favor. Watch him. Restrain him. Take him away. I’ll promise you one thing. Under my rule, no one under sixteen will be permitted to join an army or march on campaign.”

The Sword Saint, already returned from the Star-Gazing Tower, slowly walked out from behind a gray wall with Longyuan in his arms.

He smiled.

“Deal.”

Tian Wujing looked at Zheng Fan.

“Count Pingye, unless you kill this Prince now, this Prince will not follow your wishes. Withdraw. Gather the army. The war is not finished.”

Zheng Fan turned his face and looked at Prince of Jingnan.

He raised one hand and pointed at his own nose.

“I don’t know whether Your Highness heard any of what I said just now. I said from this moment onward, no one gets to control me. I live only for myself. I’m going to live as freely as I please, as happily as I please, and I absolutely will not live stifled and miserable. Fine. You can refuse. Refuse all you want. I’ll have the Sword Saint knock you unconscious now, bind you up, and take you very, very far away. You’re right. I won’t kill you. My saber, Zheng Fan’s saber, will never turn against Your Highness. The Sword Saint won’t kill you either. You know that. He’ll take you wandering far away through Chu territory. Then one day, you recover enough. The Sword Saint can no longer restrain you. You come back. And then you will see that I, Zheng Fan, Great Yan’s Count Pingye, have already defected to my elder brother-in-law. I’ll already be Great Chu’s Imperial Son-in-Law. Great Chu’s Grand Marshal of All Armed Forces. Even Nian Yao will have to stand beneath me! You will see that because I turned my coat, Nian Yao and I joined forces and buried every Yan soldier who entered Chu in this campaign! Great Chu will take advantage of the momentum and launch a northern expedition. All of eastern Jin will become Chu territory. After that, Great Yan and Jin will suffer disaster after disaster. The people will starve. And I will continue leading Chu armies north. I’ll fight all the way across the Wang River! You can refuse. You can come back. You can clean everything up again from the beginning. Fine. Then this subordinate genuinely wants to see after the entire army invading Chu has been annihilated, whether you alone can still hold up Great Yan while disasters rage within and enemies press from without!”

Zheng Fan pulled his Barbarian Saber from the corpse of the Chu noble beside him.

He wiped the edge against his own armor.

“Other people might think I’m bluffing. Deliberately trying to scare you. But you know what sort of man I am. You know perfectly well whether I dare say something and then actually do it. Now either say nothing. Stay silent. Or go ahead. Shout one more time: ‘This Prince refuses.’ If you want to shout it, hurry up and shout. Because once you finish...”

Count Pingye drove his Barbarian Saber straight into the ground.

Then roared:

“I can go betray Yan!”

[End of Chapter 587]