Peace Order

Chapter 1800 - 81: New Year’s Money

The White Tiger’s roar shook the rivers and wilds.

The long spear carried killing intent, cold and razor-sharp. Yuwen Lie’s heavy spear thrust out, the Jin Qi it swept up like a raging storm, rolling into layer upon layer of surging waves. With just one forward charge and a flurry of stabs made in passing, a hundred-odd people were flung flying.

A stunningly beautiful woman panicked and cried, "General!"

"General Yuwen, spare me beneath your spear. This concubine was forced here by my clan and noble house as well, I too have unspeakable hardships!"

"I am willing to give myself to you."

"I... I am willing to be a slave, a maidservant, I beg the General..."

The woman’s features were peerlessly fair, tears brimming in her eyes, as if she would weep at any moment, like an orchid in the wind, stirring Ripples in one’s heart despite oneself. Yet that ink-black Divine Spear showed not the slightest hesitation, not even the smallest hint of softening.

In but an instant, he ran her through.

The Divine Steed leaped, vaulting over her head.

The Divine Steed neighed like a dragon, landed upon the earth, then strode forward unhurriedly. The leaves all around rustled down. Yuwen Lie cradled Ji Ning’er in his left arm, and looked ahead: the scenery had changed, mountains and forests graceful, streams murmuring. The Divine General’s voice was cool:

"Go a little further, in no more than half a day’s time, and we will reach the land where the Chen Country once stood."

"Ahead lies the Qilin Army’s sphere of influence."

"The two of you need not follow any farther."

Wind rose behind; a Taoist and an old monk stepped out, unhurried.

They were the Palace Masters of the Academy’s Taoist and Buddhist Sect, the Taoist Purple Sun Master who had likewise glimpsed his own path upon the Nine Heavens, and the Central Earth living Buddha of the Buddhist Sect. Yuwen Lie had personally escorted Ji Ning’er and Ji Yanzhong, traveling for days on end.

All the forces of the Central State that blocked their way ahead were shattered and slain by the Divine Might General.

Before the White Tiger, there were no innocents.

The Purple Sun Master and the old monk, entrusted by Gongyang Suwang, were in charge of securing this rear path. They had originally planned to, after rescuing the Red Emperor Ji Zichang, protect them all in retreat together. Now that they knew of Zichang’s choice, they at once resolved to come escort Ji Ning’er.

They had simply never expected that Yuwen Lie, who by rights ought to have silenced her, would choose instead to personally send her here. Thus the two of them had hidden in the shadows and escorted from the dark: on the one hand to avoid meeting Yuwen Lie and thus giving rise to troublesome Variables, on the other to act unseen, erasing certain lurking sinister moves and Assassins.

The Purple Sun Master swept his horsetail whisk; his voice was calm: "The General’s valor and righteousness are peerless."

"This poor Taoist is filled with admiration."

Yuwen Lie did not so much as glance at these leaders of the Buddhist Tao.

He was a Divine General who entered the world to set the realm in order.

Those who cultivated in seclusion, away from the world, did not enter his eyes.

Ji Yanzhong’s eyes were faintly bloodshot, and he looked more aged and withered than in days past. These last few days, he had gone without rest day or night, merely gripping his sword, guarding the surroundings.

Perhaps, at this utmost point of turmoil across the realm, a Martial Arts realm of the Seven Heavens could no longer be counted as a strength capable of altering the situation. Yet by instinct, he still did such things.

Perhaps it was because, if he did not strive to do something, his mind would grow all the more anxious and pained; if he did nothing, then that last conversation with Ji Zichang, and the resolve of the Red Emperor Ji Zichang, would replay in his heart again and again, bringing a faint, stabbing ache.

Ji Yanzhong said, "Many thanks to General Yuwen for escorting us all this way..."

The old man’s voice was hoarse.

Yuwen Lie looked at Ji Yanzhong, dismounted in one smooth motion, thrust his heavy spear into the ground, and bent down to hand Ji Ning’er to Ji Yanzhong. His ink-black cloak hung down; the child slept soundly in his arms, only when he passed her over, her little hand seized the Divine General’s armor, clutching at a strip of crimson Yingluo and refusing to let go.

Ji Yanzhong said, "Little Princess..."

"We’ve arrived. It’s time to go."

Ji Ning’er merely stirred in a daze, yet like all children at such a time, she would not loosen her grip.

A faint warmth surfaced upon the Divine General’s cold, finely-chiseled face.

He reached out and took off the red Yingluo knot that represented safety and a hundred victorious Hundred Battles. His palm, too, was sheathed in dark-silver armor as he placed the ornament in the child’s arms; his voice was even: "Since you like it, then I’ll give it to you."

"Take it as a parting gift."

Ji Yanzhong said, "She seems to trust the General very much."

"General Yuwen will not see her further along her way?"

Yuwen Lie withdrew his hand. "No. If I meet Li Guanyi, there will inevitably be a battle."

Ji Yanzhong said, "Prince Qin is not such a man."

Yuwen Lie glanced at him, and said blandly:

"It is I who will make a move."

Five words, bearing the Divine General’s arrogance and disdain.

That pride, unwavering from first to last, was already displayed to the fullest. Ji Yanzhong fell silent, awed into stillness. It seemed he had many things he wished to say, yet in the end, not a single word came out.

His nature was gentle and broad-hearted, and so he seldom had firm resolves of his own.

The ancients said that those with great talent are like an awl in a sack: once stirred, it will pierce straight through the bag.

In an era such as this, winds surge and clouds boil, waves towering to the heavens.

The more fierce the clash and conflict of an age, the more these transcendent figures stand forth in sharp relief, whether it be Chen Fubi, Lu Youxian, or Chen Dingye, Ji Zichang, or the Yuwen Lie before his eyes.

Different in nature, different in stance, yet all dazzling in their own time, their names resounding through the ages.

Hearts like iron, they walk amidst the tempestuous waves of a world in chaos.

Compared with their lucid resolve—

In Ji Yanzhong’s heart there arose a sense of guilt and inferiority.

In the end, he was lenient, broad-hearted, and in the end, there lay a hidden softness. A kindly elder suited to an age of peace, in a time of raging chaos and great turning of fate, becomes one who looks ahead and behind, hesitating and unsure.

Yuwen Lie said, "Moreover, she is no longer a princess."

"The one who survives is no princess."

Yuwen Lie’s voice was level.

"In this war for Taiping under Heaven, if we prevail, then in the Taiping age to come, she need only live the life her parents wished for her; and if we lose, then there is nothing more to be said."