Chapter 1000: River Waters

The temporary palace.

Killing was underway.

The strength of the Brocade-Clad personal guards needed no explanation.

At one corner of a battlefield, they were nearly unstoppable. Tian Tian had once led them in a direct stand against the elite cavalry of Xiong Tingshan’s personal guard.

But what they were best at, in truth, was jianghu fighting.

Their first duty was to protect the Prince.

Most of the time, the Prince already had an army around him.

So what the Brocade-Clad guards most often needed to guard against were assassins and other vermin.

The “loyal and righteous men” inside the temporary palace were an extremely mixed collection.

Some carried sabers or swords but had no strength to bind a chicken. Their only real offensive weapon was their mouth.

Others were fairly skilled, but had absolutely no understanding with the people around them and no ability to advance and retreat together.

So... the Brocade-Clad personal guards split into several small formations and began pushing forward from two directions.

Anyone who dared resist was killed on the spot.

Their efficiency resembled experienced farmers harvesting wheat.

Still... the one enjoying himself most was the noble youth dressed in the Heir Prince’s python robe.

The youth went from target to target.

He killed several using an assassin’s methods, striking from concealment.

Then, switching styles entirely, he hacked off several heads with the brute force of a mountain-cleaving blow.

At one point, blood rose from the ground into his palm and condensed into something resembling an eerie sigil.

He struck a scholar with it.

As the scholar’s face began rapidly cracking apart, the youth smiled with obvious satisfaction.

Then he deliberately slipped behind another man and closed his eyes.

The man immediately staggered.

Agony split through his head.

This one, however, possessed a higher Grade.

He was a Martial Artist with strong willpower.

The moment he realized something was wrong, he turned and slashed backward.

Zheng Lin reacted quickly enough to evade.

As he shifted aside, two silver needles shot from his fingertips and buried themselves in the man’s eyes.

Then Zheng Lin gave the silk threads attached to the needles a light pull.

Both eyeballs came dangling out.

The Martial Artist screamed.

Zheng Lin did not hurry to kill him.

Instead, he stopped where he was and closed his eyes again.

With the man’s mental defenses broken by pain, Zheng Lin resumed forcing his spiritual power inward.

In the end... the Martial Artist could no longer endure the torment inside his own mind.

He cut his own throat.

Throughout all this... the Sword Saint and Swordsmith stood behind Zheng Lin, preventing anyone else from interfering.

The Swordsmith clicked his tongue.

Using blood qi to transmit his voice, he said:

“He’s using methods from Wenming Mountain. Dual cultivation? No. More than that. His physique belongs to a Martial Artist, but that method just now resembled a Qi Refiner’s art. And he’s your disciple too, Yu Huaping. Tell me. How much confidence do you actually have in this child to let him greedily study so many paths from such a young age? You’re not afraid he’ll bite off more than he can chew? And as for swordsmanship, I recognize you, Yu Huaping, as the finest of the age. But on all these other paths, aren’t you afraid he’s learning from mediocrities?”

The Sword Saint shook his head.

“The others are probably first or second beneath Heaven in their own paths too.”

The Sword Saint knew what the gentlemen of Prince Pingxi Residence were capable of.

It was true that none of them could beat him, Yu Huaping.

But that did not mean their respective Daos lacked refinement.

In fact, from ten years ago onward, the Sword Saint had noticed something peculiar about those gentlemen, who at the time were not yet especially powerful.

Their understanding of “battle” and “cultivation” stood at a level that seemed to tower over, or even transcend, their actual cultivation realms.

Take that “big fool” his own disciple had set her heart on.

The man had merely watched his disciple’s sword techniques, yet could reproduce the true intent of her swordsmanship using an axe.

Those gentlemen were simply too outstanding.

From the perspective of his own disciple, even the Sword Saint wanted the child to learn as much from them as possible.

These were genuine treasures.

Of course... another reason was that Zheng Fan’s son was simply too monstrous when it came to cultivation.

So monstrous that the problem of biting off more than he could chew did not seem to exist for him.

His appetite... was genuinely that large.

The Swordsmith pursed his lips.

“Do you know what shocks me most? It isn’t as though I’ve never seen world-shaking geniuses before. Though this Heir Prince in front of us is indeed the number one genius I have ever seen in my life. But what truly surprises me is this: he isn’t killing because he needs to kill. He’s... enjoying it. Yu Huaping, Yu Huaping. Aren’t you afraid you’re going to teach the world a demon?”

“That is something you should point at Zheng Fan’s nose and say. To put it harshly, all I teach him are some jianghu tricks. And even if a jianghu flood dragon rises, how much can it truly do? His temperament is what it is. His status is what it is. If his cultivation is low, that will not make him kill fewer people. If his cultivation is high, that will not make him kill more. To put it plainly, no matter how much he enjoys killing, how many could he ever kill with his own hands? His father fought in Shanggu Commandery not long ago. You Chu people lost, all told, well over a million men.”

“You really know how to absolve yourself.”

“Then don’t come crawling over here.”

“Why not? Anyone who sees it gets a share. The Heir Prince clearly carries the methods of several schools already. One more from me makes no difference.”

“One less from you makes no difference either.”

“Heh. So long as he recognizes me as another master, even if he decides he likes all eighteen weapons, I can forge eighteen full sets for him!”

“If he tells his father to threaten your Dugu Clan, would you dare refuse to forge them?”

“Bastard!”

“You’re flustered.”

Why had the Swordsmith appeared here in the first place?

Because circumstances were stronger than men.

With the Chu Emperor bowing his head and great clans like the Xie family already arranging roads of retreat in advance, the Dugu Clan could not remain aloof either.

Zheng Fan had said he wanted another sword.

So the sword had packed its own case and reported for duty.

Years ago, Tian Wujing had once told the Sword Saint verbally that the jianghu was beneath notice.

But the person who had truly turned those words into reality... was Tian Wujing’s successor.

Great Yan’s Regent Prince.

...

After experimenting with method after method...

Zheng Lin had finally reviewed nearly all his old lessons.

It was obvious that his weakest area was the Blind Man’s spiritual power.

Before the Blind Man’s own Grade rose high enough, that path had also appeared weak and almost useless.

More importantly, Zheng Lin’s constitution was unusual.

He could learn the Demon Kings’ abilities, but he did not possess each Demon King’s corresponding bloodline.

He could learn the methods.

But expecting to use them as naturally as breathing, or immediately surpass the original, was far more difficult.

By contrast, the techniques inherited from his own biological mother were extremely solid.

First, they came from the same bloodline.

Second... he had spent his whole life personally “testing the techniques” whenever his mother disciplined him.

It would have been difficult *not* to learn them properly.

But the style that suited Zheng Lin best, and the one he liked most, remained the straightforward path: rely first upon a powerful body, then combine it with brutal killing techniques.

So next... baleful qi erupted around Zheng Lin.

He had lived with his God-Grandfather for so long.

All that pure baleful qi he had swallowed had not gone to waste.

Seeing it, A’Ming, who was watching nearby, felt an unexpected trace of sourness.

Even the wine in the skin at his waist seemed to turn acidic.

Ah Cheng, you honest-browed bastard.

You really were ruthless, accurate, and thorough when you made your move.

With baleful qi protecting him and his own body reinforcing it, Zheng Lin charged into the crowd like a man entering an empty field.

At the same time, sword qi streamed from the fingertips of both hands.

He began cutting through people like melons and vegetables.

The Swordsmith following behind nearly started drooling at the sight of that dense, fluent release of sword qi.

The Sword Saint only laughed silently inside.

Perhaps the Swordsmith believed that becoming one more master would make no difference.

But the Sword Saint understood something else.

This Heir Prince carried a kind of contempt from the marrow of his bones even toward his own biological father.

Yes, he had many masters.

But which one of them was ordinary?

Would the Heir Prince truly look up to a swordsman his father could summon with a single word?

The Sword Saint had already hinted at this.

The Swordsmith simply had not understood.

No matter how beautiful the slaughter... it eventually had to end.

Zheng Lin sent sword qi through the chest of the final man.

Then he stopped.

He crossed his hands in front of himself and massaged them.

At the Sword Saint’s level, having no sword surpassed having a sword.

Hero Chen had perhaps only just touched that threshold.

For Zheng Lin... it was still a little early.

At that moment, the Swordsmith opened his sword case and held it before Zheng Lin.

“These swords are all ones I forged over the last few years. Your Highness may take whichever one you like.”

Zheng Lin walked straight past him and asked the Sword Saint:

“Master, some of my meridians are torn.”

The Sword Saint instantly appeared before Zheng Lin and took his wrist.

After examining him, he said:

“Nothing serious. If you use your body itself to carry sword qi, then your body must endure the corresponding strain.”

“If I borrow external objects or condense the sword qi outside my body, the killing power drops,” Zheng Lin replied. “It also consumes more essence, qi, and spirit. For an ordinary swordsman, the body is the weak point, so naturally they have to keep the enemy outside. I don’t have that concern.”

“Mm.”

The Sword Saint agreed with his disciple’s reasoning.

He understood perfectly well how terrifying it would be if a peak swordsman simultaneously possessed the body of a peak Martial Artist.

And that... was probably the direction in which this disciple would develop in the future.

“Your Highness, look at this sword. It is called—”

“Master, I’m going to change clothes. I can’t let Mother see me like this.”

With that...

Zheng Lin once again walked straight past the Swordsmith and headed toward the rear.

The Swordsmith stood there clutching his sword case.

Completely ignored.

The scene the Sword Saint had predicted... had become reality.

Zheng Lin walked over to Zhao Yuannian.

Zhao Yuannian was standing only with some difficulty.

For the new Emperor of Great Qian... today’s enthronement ceremony had certainly been spectacular.

“Thank you, Your Highness the Heir Prince, for saving me,” Zhao Yuannian said immediately.

Zheng Lin could not be bothered with polite chatter.

“Continue the ceremony.”

“Ah. This...”

Zheng Lin looked around.

Then he ordered the Brocade-Clad guards:

“Continue.”

Once the instruction was given, the Heir Prince went to the rear to change his clothes.

Here...

Zhao Yuannian sat on the Dragon Throne again.

Below him, the Qian who had not taken part in the “rebellion” were ordered to continue through the procedures.

By the time Zheng Lin returned in fresh clothing, the ceremony had reached the point where everyone knelt and shouted ten-thousand-year blessings.

A great crowd of people knelt in pools of blood.

Severed limbs and ruined corpses lay beside them.

Some had been too frightened earlier even to react.

Now, as the situation calmed and their senses returned, they began vomiting.

The blood on the ground resembled dipping sauce.

These new court officials who had followed the new sovereign resembled plump shrimp peeled perfectly white and clean, voluntarily throwing themselves into the sauce and rubbing it all over their bodies for fear of falling behind.

Zheng Lin returned to his chair.

He watched the scene with considerable interest.

Once the formal procedures ended... the new Emperor, supported by Eunuch Zhao, left the Dragon Throne and knelt before Zheng Lin.

Behind him... the gathered “ministers” knelt toward the Heir Prince as well.

This did not count as humiliating the new Emperor.

For this newborn puppet court, the only way to strengthen its own cohesion was for its Emperor to continually flatter and submit to Prince Pingxi Residence.

If Zhao Yuannian instead developed grand ideals and ambitions and started calling on everyone to work together for the rise of a new Great Qian... the people below him would probably scatter immediately.

Why were they willing to follow this Emperor at all?

Because this Emperor was the child-Emperor of a Yan Prince.

Zheng Lin turned toward A’Ming and the Sword Saint standing nearby.

“What should I do now?”

A’Ming and the Sword Saint exchanged a glance.

Both understood what that question really meant:

If his father were sitting here... what would *he* do?

One fact could not be denied.

Even Zheng Lin admitted it.

At certain moments, his father always seemed able to produce the best possible response.

The Sword Saint answered:

“If your father were here, he would do nothing.”

...

The chaos inside the temporary palace was easy to suppress.

It had only been a rabble.

The fighting outside Jinghai City, however, continued until noon the following day.

The battle was not difficult.

The troops of the three garrisons had entered the affair hoping to use a feigned surrender to force some miracle into existence.

But there was a reason miracles were called miracles.

They almost never happened.

The Yan-Chu allied army, fierce as wolves and tigers, met the three garrison armies head-on and immediately began beating each one into the ground.

Chen Xianba and Tian Tian used an old Yan tactic.

After breaking the enemy, they drove the routed troops forward like wolves herding sheep.

Using the fleeing Qian soldiers themselves as momentum, they broke Menhai Garrison and Anhai Garrison in succession.

Nian Yao led his forces to surround Donghai Garrison.

Once news arrived that the neighboring two garrisons had fallen, Donghai opened its gates and surrendered at noon on the second day.

The battle ended.

Qian’s Little Three Frontiers defensive system facing Chu had now fallen entirely into Zheng Fan’s hands.

It had been an entirely expected victory.

And an enormously significant one.

Expected, because although Qian’s armies had improved a great deal over the years and had trained several new forces capable of fighting hard battles, those troops were mostly stationed in Shangjing and the north.

Jiangnan could still be described as having “many troops and many generals.”

But in military quality, those troops were not very different from the Qian frontier armies Zheng Fan had faced when he raided Mianzhou City years ago.

They had shown “courage” and “spirit.”

Du Sheng, for example, refused to surrender after he was surrounded and chose suicide.

But none of that could alter the overall tide.

The victory mattered because, with all three garrisons in hand, the gates between Qian and Chu were now completely open.

Movement between the two sides became easier and safer.

Support from Chu could flow in more quickly.

Plunder from Jiangnan could be transferred out more efficiently.

The Regent Prince had already held the strategic initiative.

Now, in this corner of Jiangnan, he could truly sleep without worry.

Even if Qian transferred its northern elites back south, he could simply slap his backside and leave whenever he wished.

There would be no need to repeat the last campaign, when the greater strategy had forced him to risk himself and fight another bloody breakout.

But...

Zheng Fan wanted far more than this.

For now... he had made the first move.

Next, it depended on how Shangjing chose to answer.

However... soon after the battle ended, a new branch appeared.

A Qian naval squadron came sailing along the Qian River.

After making contact, however, the fleet showed no aggressive intent.

Instead... it immediately sent a messenger ashore.

...

“Blind Man, did you contact them in advance?”

Zheng Fan looked toward the Blind Man standing beside him.

The Blind Man shook his head.

“Master, this subordinate does not understand military affairs. I’m good at playing with conspiracies and schemes, but I would never dare interfere in battlefield matters.”

The Battle of Shanggu Commandery had been Zheng Fan’s arrangement.

This alliance with Chu and invasion of Qian had likewise been driven by Zheng Fan’s will.

At most, the Blind Man patched gaps and assisted from the side.

How could he possibly hide some extra surprise in the background?

Heaven alone knew whether that surprise might turn into a disaster at the wrong moment.

Xie Yu’an smiled.

“The Haidong Wu Clan began as sea raiders. Later, after Zu Zhuming pacified the coastal waves, the Wu Clan submitted to Qian. Their status has always been somewhat like the hereditary native chieftains in Qian’s southwest. Your Highness, I suspect the Wu Clan may simply have arrived late.”

“This Prince doesn’t think they were late,” Zheng Fan said. “They were probably here long ago. In fact, they were likely one of the forces Qian had already counted upon in the previous battle. But the Wu Clan chose to sit on the mountain and watch the tigers fight. They sold out their allies. Now they see that we’ve won and that, at least in this region, the situation is settled beyond settlement. So the Wu Clan has decided to jump out and choose sides again.”

“Master is wise,” the Blind Man said.

“Your Highness sees clearly,” Xie Yu’an added.

At that moment, Liu Dahu entered.

“Your Highness, Wu Xiang, head of the Wu Clan, has disembarked and requests an audience.”

Back when Lanyang City fell, Wu Xiang had once been captured by Zheng Fan.

Now... he had become head of the Wu Clan.

The Wu Clan’s momentum, however, had clearly declined.

For one thing, Wu Xiang was ultimately not his father.

Too much power had been lost during the succession.

Many sea-raider groups that once depended on the Wu Clan had broken away.

For another, Qian’s years of “militaristic excess” had nearly doubled tax rates, especially commercial taxes.

That squeezed the Wu Clan’s space for profit even further.

Internal and external causes together had badly damaged the clan.

“Which of you wants to meet him?” the Prince asked.

Xie Yu’an said nothing.

He had no reason to go.

The Blind Man smiled.

“This subordinate will go.”

“Mm.”

The Blind Man left the command tent.

At that moment...

Xie Yu’an saw the Prince move toward the map again.

Clearly... with an additional Wu Clan fleet available, the Qian River could now be used far more effectively.

Worry stirred inside Xie Yu’an.

He feared this Prince might choose an even more aggressive move.

“Little Xie.”

“Here.”

“Suppose we follow the Qian River upstream...”

From Jinghai City, traveling upstream on the Qian River would eventually connect with the Bian River dug by the Qian themselves.

And that river led to...

Shangjing.

“Your Highness, our situation is already excellent. Why take such a risk?”

Xie Yu’an hesitated again and again.

In the end, he still chose to advise restraint.

“This Prince was only speaking casually.”

“Yes.”

Xie Yu’an did not believe him.

Zheng Fan returned to the commander’s seat and sat.

“Summer is almost here.”

“Replying to Your Highness, the summer solstice is ten days away.”

The Prince nodded.

“Let’s try to finish this war... within the year.”

[End of Chapter 1000]