Xin Zhui’s fingers twitched almost imperceptibly.
Jiang Xingyan had already risen and walked away.
Huo Ci and Xiao Zhunhuai were left with a sense of melancholy.
Each thought the same thing: If I were the one hovering between life and death, would she be this anxious?
“Huo Ci, after you hear the enemy’s war drums echo through the mountains, lead ten thousand soldiers in a surprise attack.”
Jiang Xingyan turned and strode out. Huo Ci hurried to block her path.
“A Yan, don’t act rashly. Beiluo has—”
“Black powder.”
“What?”
“That explosive thing is called black powder.
It was invented by that otherworldly visitor who descended upon Beiluo one day.
Yun Ge’er has already figured out a countermeasure. I have it with me. Wait for my signal.”
Jiang Xingyan hastily pushed past Huo Ci’s hand and vanished like a falcon striking its prey.
Huo Ci stood there dazed, staring at the direction she had disappeared in, unable to snap out of it for a long time.
“Don’t you want this war to end as soon as possible?”
Huo Ci whirled around in shock, only to meet Xiao Zhunhuai’s questioning gaze.
He had to admit—this man was impossibly perceptive.
Even the secret he had buried so deep had been uncovered.
“For the people of Western Zhou, of course I wish for this devouring war to end as soon as possible.”
“Then what are you worried about?”
“…A Yan and I will swap back. After this battle.”
Xiao Zhunhuai’s face lit up with surprise and joy: “Really?!”
Huo Ci turned his gaze away and looked at this man’s undisguised elation with bitterness.
That’s right—he was the only one who didn’t want to swap back with A Yan.
The only one.
Xiao Zhunhuai coughed lightly, embarrassed by his own unguarded display of emotion.
“Perhaps General Huo shouldn’t fret over this.
If you and Miss Jiang don’t swap back soon, it will only deepen the rift between you.
Isn’t everything in this world built on breaking down the old to create the new?”
Huo Ci smiled bitterly.
Of course he understood all that.
It was just that—he knew Jiang Xingyan better than anyone.
She was never the kind of woman who would cling to a man like a dodder vine.
She had confidence, she had a mind of her own, and the only reason she’d ever been content to stay in the inner quarters was because she loved him to the bone.
And now, he had destroyed all of that.
Across two lifetimes, he would never again receive such pure, flawless love.
So be it. Let him spend this borrowed life atoning for his sins.
——-
Because Yun Chunfeng had contacted Jiang Xingyan and learned that carrying the alchemy furnace around was inconvenient, he splurged again—this time buying a mortal-friendly portable storage pouch from his Eighth Senior Brother, Daoist Flowing Fire.
It required no spiritual power—just a spoken incantation to open.
Though Daoist Flowing Fire was as hot-tempered as his name suggested, his craftsmanship was meticulous to a fault.
Everyone who’d bought a storage pouch from him had nothing but praise.
The only problem was that the quality was almost too good—one pouch would last for generations; the owner would die, but the pouch would remain.
This gave Daoist Flowing Fire quite a headache, so he raised the price.
But he never expected that middlemen who’d hoarded large supplies centuries earlier would profit off the price difference.
He was so furious he nearly wiped out their entire families.
Jiang Xingyan’s lips twitched.
She really couldn’t imagine how hard it must be for their master.
Not only were all her disciples penniless young men waiting to be fed—they were also all troublemakers.
“Your master truly loves you all very much.”
Yun Chunfeng’s smirk froze. He looked up slightly, gazing into the distance: “Yes.”
How could he tell Miss that when their master was young, she’d poked a hole in the sky and framed the Gods Gonggong and Zhurong for it?
That had forced Goddess Nuwa to patch the heavens with the world’s most precious Five-Colored Stones, exhausting her so thoroughly that she slept for a thousand years before waking.
Gonggong and Zhurong had become lifelong enemies because of it.
To keep Nuwa’s temperament in check, Heavenly Sovereign Fuxi had decreed that she must take on nine disciples—to give her something to occupy her time.
He’d expected her to throw a massive tantrum. Instead, she agreed without hesitation.
Fuxi thought she’d mellowed out. He had no idea just how deep in misery his disciples were living.
Open their eyes in the morning, and they already owed Master a million spirit stones.
Where on earth could they go to argue that?
Still—master was master. When it came to protecting her own, no one could hold a candle to her.
The little toddler sat atop the clouds, swinging her chubby, lotus-root-like legs, counting the banknotes she’d just fleeced from Daoists Falling Flower and Flowing Fire.
“Hmph. At least Little Ninth has some conscience.
Still remembers her master’s heroic deeds.”
Daoists Falling Flower and Flowing Fire, bruised and swollen, wept silently.
You call that heroic?
Jiang Xingyan knew nothing of this and was still lost in sympathy for their master.
The Beiluo army encamped outside Shanhai Pass was stationed even closer than the one outside Jingyu Pass.
Within the time it takes an incense stick to burn, Jiang Xingyan had already reached the perimeter.
She once again used Yun Chunfeng’s invisibility talisman to infiltrate the Beiluo camp.
With last night’s experience under her belt, she made straight for the central command tent.
“General Ursu has rendered tremendous service this time! The King will surely reward you handsomely.”
“Gentlemen, you should have seen the spectacular sight last night—what a pity you missed it!”
“Oh? Do tell—give us the details, brother!”
“Those Western Zhou pigs were blown to smithereens by the mighty black powder! Even one of their officers was hacked to death by us!”
“Our blades are coated with Hundred-Ant-Heart-Eating Poison—even if the True Lord himself came, he couldn’t save them!”
Raucous laughter echoed across the camp.
Boom! Boom!
Jiang Xingyan trembled with rage. In one breath, she detonated two alchemy furnaces.
All thoughts of innocent soldiers vanished from her mind. Her heart and eyes were filled with nothing but bone-deep hatred.
You’re making merry over our Western Zhou soldiers, are you?
You want a spectacular sight? Here—have one!
“Beiluo dogs! Huo Ci is here! Come and die!”
Jiang Xingyan materialized abruptly, drawing her sword and cutting down everything in her path.
At this moment, she was truly the God of Death Huo—slaying gods who stood in her way, butchering Buddhas who blocked her path!
The Beiluo tribesmen who hadn’t been blown up at the perimeter panicked at first—then suddenly realized it was only Huo Ci alone.
“He’s just one man! We’re not afraid of him!”
“Don’t forget—the God of Death Huo’s head is worth ten cities!”
“Kill the God of Death Huo!”
“For the King! For the Lord!”
Suddenly, every fleeing soldier stopped in his tracks, turned around, grabbed whatever weapon was at hand, and charged forward.
A few normal ones who didn’t want to gamble with their lives tried to keep running—but were promptly cut in half by their fervent comrades beside them.
Jiang Xingyan’s heart jolted.
No wonder they called Beiluo a land of savages—truly, there was not a shred of civilization!
Those were their own comrades! How could they treat them like enemies?
She put more force into her swings.
Huo Ci’s sword was indeed a fine blade.
In Jiang Xingyan’s hands, it slashed left and right, thrust forward and parried back.
In no time, a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood had piled up around her.
Seeing more and more enemies closing in, Jiang Xingyan knew she couldn’t hold out for long. She pulled off a clever decoy maneuver.
Poof!
After a puff of smoke, the Beiluo soldiers saw only that “Huo Ci” had vanished from where he stood.
In his original spot sat an alchemy furnace.
“Since you gentlemen think so highly of me, allow Huo to present you with a little gift!”
