Chapter 371: I Told You to Go Have Some Fun, Didn’t I? (1)

When the soldiers set the fire, the geomancers predicted that a southeast wind might blow.

To avoid responsibility, they always cover the widest possible range, but weather forecasting is a science based on statistics from past, present, and future.

So the geomancers’ opinions were based on abundant records showing that around this time in this region, southeast winds tended to blow.

Even the legendary strategist Zhuge Liang once calmly said, “The wind will come,” pretending to be a shaman, even when the enemy forces were closing in and it seemed all was lost.

Later analysis confirmed that the Battle of Red Cliffs originally saw fierce northwest winds, followed by a high probability of southeast winds.

They say that by observing certain weather signs—like rain clouds far south, insects flying low, and fish gulping air—they gained their confidence.

Had Zhuge Kongming been there instead of those geomancers, he would have arrogantly said, “Don’t worry, set the fire. Tomorrow, I will borrow the rain clouds to bring the rain.”

Because of this, Qing was woken early in the dawn by a sudden burst of cheers.

It was the kind of cheering as if their country had just scored a goal in an international competition.

(Though that kind of thing could never happen.)

Curious, she opened a window to look outside and saw thick raindrops steadily pouring down in the early winter.

Scientifically, it made sense.

The summer had been too hot.

As a result, the southern sea hadn’t cooled down by winter, producing abundant rain clouds.

These clouds, carried by the southeast wind, mixed with the black smoke and hot ash blown from the fire, stung the eyes until tears streamed uncontrollably.

But Qing didn’t know that.

The primitive, uncultured Central Plains people also had no understanding of such natural laws.

So they simply cheered and gave thanks for the great rain that would quench the flames.

Thank Buddha! Thank the Lord of the Heavens!

And since the heavens have blocked the calamity on earth, isn’t that proof the Heavenly Son possesses great virtue?

Thus, from dawn, cries of “Long live the emperor!” poured forth in the rain.

Long live the emperor! Long live!

Long live! Long live! Ten thousand years!

Live long, that glorious emperor!

May the Heavenly Son have eternal life!

Good fortune was always seen as the emperor’s virtue and grace.

In contrast, if something bad happened, it was always the people’s fault, or, if the people needed pacifying, it was the fault of the palace’s evil women, thus blaming women.

Hearing this, Qing snorted in derision.

Long live my ass.

The very one who ordered the fire was the same scoundrel.

But what kind of person was he?

It was a thought Qing had long avoided.

If the Empress Dowager’s words were true, he would be her biological father.

But from what Qing had seen, heard, and experienced in the martial world, he was definitely no decent human.

The Empress Dowager’s grinding her teeth must have been filled with the bitterness of a woman scorned, and it seemed she had also severely mistreated Princess Yeonsul in the past.

Leaving that aside, what a state the country was in.

At least Qing understood one thing: the people were treated worse than dogs and pigs.

At least dogs and pigs are livestock raised and not killed if unnecessary.

But if people pretended to be bandits, killing and burning just to silence others—

Well, what did that have to do with Qing?

Qing was Qing.

She had no intention to raise the banner of rebellion against the unvirtuous emperor, or to write “the foundation of the country is the people” or “democracy” in blood, or to solemnly distribute manifestos about revolution and red ideology.

There was no reason for Ximen Qing from the martial world to meddle in the governance of the high and mighty.

****

Jayu also opened her window and looked outside.

She saw poor souls joyfully dancing in the rain, raising their arms and chanting “Long live!” again and again.

Did they know that the heavens had sent the rain to quell the fire?

But even if they knew, what difference would it make?

To them, the emperor was Heaven.

Though people might curse Heaven, in the end, they cannot escape it.

When driven to the brink, they have no choice but to pray to Heaven.

Therefore, all sages discuss the proper way a ruler should govern.

An unkind Heaven simply strikes lightning and burns the world, so all that floods the land are tears and grief.

Should the poor people then simply beg for mercy and cling to life?

“Well, in the end, isn’t this working out well?”

Qing’s own words flashed through her mind.

She had never dared to think of ascending the throne.

Though she had administered her domain in Sichuan, it had been a desperate attempt to avoid notice, not an intention to improve their lives.

But those poor fools who thanked Heaven that tried to kill them...

Suddenly, the heavens flashed all around in an instant.

Boom...!

The thunder came a moment later, shaking the world.

But on Jayu’s face, the shadows deepened again.

****

Guangxi Province, Nanning County, the Guilin Sword Sect.

In fact, the name “Guilin Sword Sect in Nanning County” would cause many to laugh bitterly.

Because in Guangxi Province, the city of Guilin stood proudly.

The forest of laurels made Guilin the most beautiful city in the Central Plains, renowned as a scenic wonder with the longest history in the south.

Primitive tribes long ago failed to conquer the rugged mountains, swamps, and dense jungles, so only Guilin was livable land in Guangxi.

But as humans made roads, pulled carts, and launched boats on waterways, goods moved even to the Yonggang plains hidden by high mountains.

Thus, Nanning County, the capital of Guangxi, was born at the heart of Guangxi.

The Guilin Sword Sect, as the name suggests, originally came from Guilin.

Why the Guilin Sword Sect abandoned Guilin for Nanning County is not recorded.

But the scholars need not leave records to know.

Settling in Nanning—a much larger, more developed city—meant greater profit and reputation.

To succeed, one must play in big waters.

And so they succeeded.

The Guilin Sword Sect became a righteous sect representing Guangxi, its name known throughout the land.

Of course, Guangxi is still just the borderlands to the Central Plains.

Guangxi, Guizhou, and Yunnan are not truly Central Plains but frontier lands.

So even if they claimed to be the best in Guangxi, the Central Plains laughed, “Oh, people live there? What about those barbarians?”

Still, they represented their province.

The Guilin Sword Sect was the proud vanguard of righteous martial arts in Guangxi, supposedly protecting justice to this day...

But the truth was the natural cycle of waxing and waning; nothing could flourish forever.

The time of Guilin Sword Sect’s fall was right at hand.

“Has there been any news from Cheonhwa Sword? When will they arrive? No matter how slow the Martial Alliance’s handling is, this is ridiculous!”

A huge man with forearms like logs burst out angrily.

He was Do Daljeon, the chief disciple of Guilin Sword Sect.

“They’ll arrive soon.”

The middle-aged man trying to hide his gloomy expression was Kang Suyang, the sect leader.

“When is ‘soon’? It’s almost New Year’s Eve. If they arrive after the sect’s sign is taken down, should we just expect a message from the Martial Alliance saying Guilin Sword Sect is finished?”

“We don’t know yet.”

“Ha, what good will it do to arrive late? Everyone knows the heretical alliance’s tricks by now. Do you think they won’t invade because of one Cheonhwa Sword? Or that one super-expert can overcome their numerical disadvantage?”

The trouble had started a couple months ago with a quarrel between a disciple of Yogayeombang and theirs.

A tiny righteous sect, barely boiling salt, dared to start trouble.

Suddenly their disciples exploded in number, and now they were the strongest martial sect in Nanning.

Of course, it was obvious the heretical alliance was behind this.

When Yogayeombang joined the heretics’ banner, two elite combat units and heretics’ masters suddenly flocked to the sect.

It was clear a big incident was brewing, so caution was necessary.

But five days ago, a female disciple couldn’t bear the harassment and drew her sword, losing the moral high ground.

Hence the final ultimatum: take down the sign and vacate by year’s end, or the Martial Alliance would settle it their way.

“If Cheonhwa Sword had arrived earlier, things wouldn’t have gotten this bad! No matter how much the heretics tried, they wouldn’t have drawn swords against the righteous dragon!”

Daljeon’s words made sense.

Had Cheonhwa Sword remained, Yogayeombang’s provocation would have stopped and waited.

They could have asked Cheonhwa Sword to stay longer and then called on the alliance’s warriors to solve the issue.

But Qing was late.

Since the ultimatum was delivered, delaying due to Cheonhwa Sword’s presence would mean the heretics retreated out of fear, and the righteous sect would lose face.

If the righteous sect’s pride was that of a gentleman, the heretics’ was the savage brutality of fearless beasts.

Thus, the heretics would not back down.

“Khem.”

Sect leader Kang Suyang groaned.

Though it seemed Daljeon was shouting at the leader, he was actually expressing anger in his stead.

Only Daljeon could safely vent his rage; the leader couldn’t even express anger openly.

Then—

“Leader, he’s here again!”

The report outside the door caused both men’s expressions to sour simultaneously.

Bang! Screech, bang.

The door, barely nailed on, tilted and collapsed.

“Ay, this door’s too weak. Ha. Use this for a while.”

A thug kicked open the door and shoved his hand into his pocket, throwing handfuls of coins.

Not gold or silver, but mere copper coins.

Startled, Guilin Sword Sect’s disciples swarmed out like a disturbed hornet’s nest.

Among them, U Naram, an elder with a slender sword, drew his blade and shouted:

“You! What is the meaning of this?”

“You? Ha, what right does a chubby woman have to call anyone ‘you’ and finger-point? Look at this! That lowborn barbarian dares to point a sword at people!”

The thug pushed forward, dragging the crowd of onlookers.

No one dared support the sword-wielding barbarian, but several nodded in agreement.

Of course, one in four Guangxi locals were the very barbarians mocked—Zhuang people—and many of them were enraged.

“Not talking to monkeys! Bring me your master!”

U Naram bit his lip.

Then—

“Why are you making a scene on someone else’s manor?”

Daljeon stomped through his disciples, shaking the ground with his heavy muscles.

The thug flinched briefly, then put on a sly smile.

“Whose manor? I’m going to live there and check it out. It’ll be mine in two days anyway. What’s the problem with looking it over early?”

“Watch your words.”

Daljeon’s face flushed red, but he forced himself to respond politely, unable to draw his sword.

“Didn’t we send a notice to vacate this year? But no one’s packing yet. With only two days to New Year’s, if you leave gracefully, you’ll save your life. Do you have to spill blood for satisfaction?”

“That bastard!”

Elder U Naram raised his sword.

Daljeon raised his arm to stop him but ground his teeth in anger.

That insolent punk was Yo Min, third son of Yogayeombang’s leader.

They wanted to kill him on the spot, but the sect leader planned this all along—he’d pushed his useless son away.

So despite their fury, the Guilin Sword disciples could only grit their teeth while their hands trembled in rage and hearts pounded.

Meanwhile, Yo Min, ignorant of being sent to his death, swaggered proudly.

Then—

The disciples turned to look behind Yo Min.

“Lady, move aside please. What’s with all these people? Is there a feast or something? Oh, a feast? Wow, a New Year’s feast in advance!”

“Don’t push, don’t push.”

“Oof, being pushed! What force—”

The crowd murmured, then parted like reeds in the wind as a clear, joyful female voice rang out:

“No more feasts! Boiled pork, steamed pork, braised pork!”