A fiery dragon illuminated the night sky; even the raging downpour couldn’t put it out. It roared as it soared into the heavens. It seemed to be a signal.
Shi Wuduan had blown up the pass, trapping both his and the court’s forces at the Min River’s outlet. He was gambling everything on one blow, ready to break the caldrons and sink the boats.
He had no intention of dragging the battle out. Gu Huaiyang had surely seen the dragon already, and even though they hadn’t discussed it beforehand, they were brothers who’d been through life-and-death experiences together, they had that much tacit coordination at least. Shi Wuduan knew what Gu Huaiyang would do in such a dangerous situation, and he knew he was waiting for that dragon of fire. If their two forces couldn’t break the siege from both inside and out, then the Redscarf Army would die in Dongyue, and it wouldn’t be long before they lost Haining.
This would be a difficult battle, one they had to win at all costs.
Following behind the fiery dragon, cavalry descended from above, roaring battle cries. Armor met with the cold steel of blades, signal fires and smoke flares filled the air, the sound of killing echoed the ears, and the earth trembled incessantly.
Bai Li sat on horseback as he watched the Redscarf Army’s cavalries charge into the command area and began a round of bloody combat. Yet he didn’t show any intention of helping, only watching coldly as if he were a bystander. He slowly averted his gaze, looking for Shi Wuduan.
But how would it be so easy to find him? It was a rainy night to begin with. The enemy forces’ communications all depended on a few cultivators signalling with military flags and colored smoke that wasn’t washed away by rain, yet Shi Wuduan wasn’t among them. Bai Li peered in that direction, then suddenly gestured with his hand, sending a lightning-fast shadow darting through the crowd, piercing through that person’s chest. The man let out an agonized scream and fell off his horse. Yet at that moment, another communications officer popped up somewhere else.
Bai Li sneered coldly and ignored him. He knew that the Redscarf Army was an old hand at war. Even those field-planting peasants, after all those years of battling up and down the country, had been formed into a very unique kind of army. Not to mention that they’d collected quite a lot of veterans through the channels they used to buy horses and recruit soldiers. They could almost compete against the court with brute force.
Plus the fact that Shi Wuduan was a master of arrays, not only arrays of illusions and traps, but arrays of soldiers as well. His skill in mental calculation was superb. It just so turned out that the obscure learning that the Xuan Sect had disdained back in the day was in truth the ability to fully comprehend the current state of affairs and devise ingenious battle strategies. At this life or death battle, Bai Li didn’t think that any of the court’s useless nincompoops were a match for Shi Wuduan.
Zou Yanlai had his wily wits, but he was pitifully small-minded. One by one, Bai Li went through all the loyal subjects, fierce generals, and treacherous rebels taking to the stage, and still felt that none of them could compare to Shi Wuduan.
He had been able to barge into the fox king’s quarters alone when he was still a youth. The cave was full of old yao, all of whom were more powerful than he, yet not one of them was able to hold him back, let alone now.
Find him — I must find him —
Bai Li lightly pursed his lips. He was completely enveloped by black shadow, hardly anyone could see him. None of those who could see him could approach him.
The fiery dragon provided support as the elite cavalries, their armor impervious to blades, sliced through enemy forces, heading straight towards the main barracks at the Min River’s outlet. They had attacked so quickly that normal troops were utterly unable to respond before they were felled. Before, cultivators and normal humans had been separate as the Jing and Wei rivers, their statuses poles apart. Who’d ever heard of cultivators putting on armor, mounting horses, and fighting alongside normal people on the frontlines?
Only someone as heretical and unorthodox as Shi Wuduan could ever make such a thing happen.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
There was already a hole torn through the center army’s defenses by the time the great sects’ cultivators grasped the situation, were dispatched, and arrived late to the battlefield. Zou Yanlai’s voice had gone hoarse from shouting orders. He’d commanded the left and right flanks to encircle the enemy, yet unexpectedly, after killing a few people and setting a few fires, the Redscarf Army suddenly retreated. Shortly thereafter, he received reports that the left and right flanks had been ambushed.
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The cloth person was a perfect example of “the eunuch is more anxious than the emperor.” Bai Li was still languidly watching the show when it decided to get proactive and get involved in the action. It was only a pity that though the little demon had uncanny powers, it was too slow at killing people – it wasn’t even as fast as killing humans as humans were.
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Bai Li raised his head; the Redscarf Army’s signal smoke was flaring up everywhere, both sides were jumbled together in a frenzied melee. The sound of war drums was interspersed with the sound of thunder. The fiery dragon was gone, yet scattered fires still burned in every corner of the battlefield.
At some time, Zou Yanlai had made his way over to Bai Li and yelled, “Demon Lord!”
Bai Li ignored him, continuing to sit atop his horse, trying to find Shi Wuduan amongst the sea of people. He said, “Don’t rush, just keep fighting. Shi Wuduan hasn’t used his finishing blow yet.”
The moment he spoke, a sharp whistle split the air, seven fireworks burst into the sky one by one. Bai Li “ah’d” and chuckled, “The seven stars of the Big Dipper. You see, what did I say?”
Zou Yanlai’s heart sank. He’d assumed that in this chaotic close-quarters battlefield, where the situation changed a thousand times a minute, Shi Wuduan would have to rely on military tactics, not having the time to set up any other arrays. But who knew that he’d be so bold as to pull his tricks in the midst of battle. His mind was going a mile a minute, he shouted, “The cavalry!”
He’d thought that the Redscarf Army’s strategy was to send their cavalry to charge the center army, have their flanks set up ambushes, then have their footsoldiers bring up the rear. But the cavalry hadn’t charged to clear space so that their main force could follow, they’d used their advantage of speed to bury arrays under the cover of setting fires and leave before the sects’ cultivators could react. Their movements had seemed utterly erratic, but they had walked through the points of the Big Dipper!
Zou Yanlai suddenly spurred his horse forward as he roared, “Archers! Archers provide cover fire! Both flanks close in, fellow Daoists, beware of the enemy’s trap, defend your minds…”
Zou Yanlai was completely soaked by rain. When had a noble gentleman like him ever been so bedraggled before?
Bai Li shook his head as he watched the other rush away.
Just at that time, the sky, which was already dark, got even darker. The rain poured heavily as ever. In the sky that seemed to hang so low that one could reach out and touch it, the seven stars of the Big Dipper suddenly shone. Bai Li saw that the cavalries, slippery as a ghost, were nowhere to be seen. A silver line suddenly extended from the base of the mountains at the Min River’s outlet.
His heart began to race — Wuduan, Shi Wuduan, where are you?
The silver line finally converged at the final points that the cavalries had charged to, as if a sword had been stabbed through the imperial army’s entire encampment. The earth burst upwards, sending people and horses tumbling to the ground. The sects’ cultivators, which had seemed more like a disorderly mob, finally began to coordinate, providing cover for the flanks as they pulled back.
Lightning flashed through the center of the Big Dipper. The earth quaked and the valleys shook. Thousands of lantern-like lights suddenly appeared within the mountains.
Bai Li suddenly charged ahead, took the divine bow off his back, then shot three arrows in quick succession without even aiming. The three soldiers blocking his way fell from their horses without a sound. None could even slow him.
The sects’ cultivators desperately tried to suppress the array, fighting it for control over the laws of reality like it was a tug of war. Shattered rocks and boulders fell from the mountains, but not a single piece struck Bai Li.
He was enveloped by black mist that seemed it could repel anything that neared him.
His snow-white robes were dyed with red blood. His face, which was once beautiful as a painting, suddenly had a stunning yet dreadful aura, as wild and unrestrained as the warhorse he rode. Confident in his power, he charged fearlessly towards a certain person’s direction.
Three hundred meters, one hundred fifty meters, one hundred meters —
No one could stop him.
Shi Wuduan had already lost his rainproof coat. He sat on horseback, a few strands of hair stuck to his face, yet he didn’t look so unkempt as Zou Yanlai had. It seemed that nothing, not his soaking wet robes or even Bai Li’s fingers wrapped around his throat could ever faze him.
Numerous strands of starsilk, shining with ghostly fire, were wrapped around Shi Wuduan’s hands as he calmly looked at Bai Li.
This time, I will not let you go — Bai Li’s eyes met with Shi Wuduan’s; at that moment, they were only thirty meters apart. They both understood the other’s gaze.
Suddenly, a loud noise sounded from afar, loud enough to drown out the sound of fighting. The array that was still putting itself together was torn apart. The Big Dipper hanging in the sky disappeared, the threads of starsilk in Shi Wuduan’s hand all snapped. He startled and looked up unconsciously, but all he saw was rain. There was not a speckle of starlight.
His astrolabe was thrown into such disarray that he couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Last time, Bai Li had broken his array, but this time, Bai Li was in the array as well. Who else could be so powerful?
Yet the sects’ cultivators, wary and cautious, were just as confused; they were thrown back simultaneously. Those with insufficient cultivation or self-control fell on their butts, like the tug-of-war rope had abruptly snapped.
Even Bai Li frowned and looked towards the source of the noise.
Suddenly someone shouted, “Flood! It’s a flood!”
Someone cursed, “What flood…. AH!”
There wasn’t much time for anyone to react before the narrow mountain pass was broken through with a clamorous boom. A massive wave of water surged towards them like a strange beast. Before heaven’s wrath, mortals, gods, and demons were all helpless.
Shi Wuduan and Bai Li, who had been near each other, were separated by the rapid currents. Some people hadn’t even managed to scream before they were dragged under the waves.
Bai Li was instantly submerged in icy water. His vision darkened, and he unconsciously flailed his limbs — for a moment he almost thought he’d been pulled back to the everlasting darkness of the Hall of Demons. At that moment, his heart had turned to ice as he fell into despair.
He struggled wildly. Black shadows congealed in his palm but were immediately disrupted by the next surge. The waves slammed him against some protruding object. Stunned, Bai Li recovered his senses and hastily grabbed onto a large tree. He was completely out of breath and in pain from being tossed about by the flood.
Then, he saw that Shi Wuduan wasn’t doing much better than he was. He was already injured to begin with. Now, he was so dazed as to seem unconscious. The rapids pulled the tree Bai Li was hanging onto up by the roots. Without hesitating, he pushed off of it with all his might and managed to get upstream. Shi Wuduan crashed against his chest, and the two were carried off by the currents.
Bai Li reflexively held onto him tightly. The veins on one of his hands were bulging from the effort of grabbing to the tree he’d been hanging onto before; it was driftwood at least. But he used too much strength, his shadows unwittingly tore the tree apart and away from his grasp. He wasn’t a good swimmer, and instantly inhaled two lungfuls of water.
Suddenly, he felt a grasp on his arm. Shi Wuduan had regained consciousness at some point, and wound the remaining starsilk on his hand around Bai Li’s arm. Somehow, Bai Li understood. He flung the strands out, managed to snag a tree trunk, then pulled. His back crashed against it.
Luckily, although Shi Wuduan wasn’t very reliable, the starsilk threads he gave were very sturdy. Bai Li held onto him with one arm while the other clung onto the tree trunk as they bobbed up and down, beneath the waves one moment and above it the next. Who knew when it’d end.
Shi Wuduan had already realized — several continuous days of heavy downpour had made the Min River’s dam collapse. The floodwaters just so happened to squeeze into the narrow gorge. No wonder it easily broke the Big Dipper Array.
Heavy rains weren’t unusual in the region around the Min River. That dam had been repeatedly fixed over and over again, the court had to allocate funds to it nonstop, but every time, every pair of hands the funds passed through skimmed some of it. Imperial censors had been bewailing the matter for a long time, but Huaizhou was far from the capital, and the court’s influence there was weak. The situation there was extremely murky. The officials there all covered for each other. The court tried many times to investigate, but never got any results.
The dam kept being destroyed by anthills, making it so that every three or five years, the river would flood and bring disaster to the civilians living on both sides of the river.
Shi Wuduan suddenly wanted to burst into laughter — the flooding of the Min River had washed away much of the imperial forces, and just like that, the siege of Dongyue was broken. The shaky dam that the civilians hated with a passion had actually helped them out so much, if that wasn’t heaven’s will, what was? The imperial soldiers that he’d meticulously plotted against, and was in the middle of life-or-death combat with, were now brothers in hardship. Bai Li, who’d stood across the battlefield from him just moments ago was now tied to the same tree as him, as if they were depending on each other for survival.
How absurd.
Shi Wuduan couldn’t help bursting into laughter for real. He suddenly understood how the old emperor had laughed himself to death.
Another icy cold wave washed over his head. He choked a mouthful of water, his chest was so painful it was almost numb, as if he couldn’t even gasp a single breath. Shi Wuduan’s vision darkened, and he knew no more.
So this is why my gut feeling always try to delay me from reading this translation 🙂
Thank you for the chapter….!
How absurd indeed. 🥺
Thank you so much for your wonderful work 🧨❤️🙏💐👏
💙💙💙
Thank you for your excellent translation!
This is amazing. When i can’t think of any way to fix things, a literal force majeur comes into play.