Together, a roaring fire. Scattered, a sky full of stars.
Fengzhou’s climate was hot, humid, and rainy. Not only was its grain production high, but its jungles were also vast and numerous.
Although the Rebel Army lost the three cities they had fought so hard to capture, by breaking up into smaller units, they gained immense strategic depth.
Against the Yaoqing Imperial Court’s fifty-thousand-strong army, the Rebel Army stood no chance in a conventional war of sieges and territorial conquest.
Defeat would have been a foregone conclusion.
But now that the Rebel Army had retreated into the high mountains and dense, miasma-filled jungles, the tables had turned. The enemy was in the open while they were in the shadows. Suddenly, the tens of thousands of soldiers under Harqin’s command seemed far from enough.
Over the next month, the Rebel Army hunted down several search parties. They used their superior numbers to set ambushes in advance, initiating a series of small-scale encounters.
With the element of surprise, the Rebel Army’s forces always outnumbered the search parties they ambushed by two or three to one.
The search parties naturally found it difficult to fight back.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. The crucial part was that after a successful strike, the Rebel Army would rapidly strip the armor and weapons from the Imperial Court soldiers, then immediately vanish into the depths of the boundless jungle.
This drove the Imperial Court’s officers and soldiers, who had previously not even deigned to look at the Rebel Army, absolutely mad with frustration.
They suffered losses, yet they couldn’t even find an enemy to vent their anger on!
To counter the Rebel Army’s unpreventable attacks, Harqin tried many methods, finally resorting to mixing Martial Artists from the Prison Control Department into his scouting teams to lay a trap.
But even so, it was as if the Rebel Army had a sixth sense; they could always accurately distinguish which of the scouting parties was the trap.
After this happened repeatedly, Harqin was about to lose his mind.
He finally stopped sending his soldiers to search for the Rebel Army. Instead, he implemented a scorched-earth policy, fortifying the cities he held, planning to wait out and wear down this infuriatingly persistent Rebel Army that buzzed around like flies.
「Deep in the mountain wilds.」
When Li Chang’an heard the news, a smile touched his lips. He stroked his chin and said, "Heh. So you’ve gotten a taste of what guerrilla warfare is like, have you? Don’t worry, I have plenty of bigger surprises in store for you!"
Based on the current state of the war, Li Chang’an didn’t believe the Yaoqing Imperial Court had the ability to wipe out the Taiping Uprising Army in a short period of time.
And yet, the preordained fate revealed by his Rebirth Mark indicated that his death would come in his tenth year...
’If that’s the case, then the only possibility is that the Yaoqing Imperial Court will play dirty and send a powerful Martial Artist to deliver a completely overwhelming blow!’
Aside from this unconventional tactic, Li Chang’an couldn’t think of any other method the Imperial Court could use to kill him.
Having figured out the fate he would likely face, Li Chang’an began to refocus his attention on his Martial Dao cultivation.
Using the chest of top-tier Cultivation Techniques from the golden age of the Central Plains Martial Dao that he’d found at the bottom of Tai Lake, combined with his own heaven-defying comprehension, Li Chang’an had created the "Taiping Body Refining Divine Skill."
After cultivating this technique, the physical conditioning of the Rebel Army soldiers improved at a rate visible to the naked eye.
Under these circumstances, Li Chang’an’s own Martial Arts Realm naturally advanced by leaps and bounds. Now, the Qi in his body had completely condensed into a solid state, making him a true Martial King!
A Martial King’s Qi could shatter mountains and split stone. Dozens, even hundreds, of ordinary men could not get near them.
Martial Artists of this Realm had already begun to transcend the concept of being human, starting to develop toward the stature of the Immortals from common folklore—beings who could "roam the North Sea by morning and rest in Cangwu by night."
In this current era of the Martial Dao’s decline, a single expert at the Martial King Realm was more than enough to defend an entire region.
This much was evident from the rank of the Prison Control Department’s Chief Banner Officer, who was in charge of all of Fengzhou.
Li Chang’an was not even nine years old, yet he had already stepped into the Martial King Realm. By all rights, there shouldn’t have been anyone in all of Fengzhou who could threaten him.
But just because there was no one in Fengzhou didn’t mean there was no one in Kyoto.
The Martial King Realm might be enough to be considered peerless in the provinces, but if the enemy was the Yaoqing Imperial Court, it was still utterly vulnerable.
And what was the price of the Central Plains Martial Dao’s decline?
It was that the Yaoqing Imperial Court had confiscated nearly every single Martial Arts Technique and Secret Manual in the Central Plains!
It was said that in the underground Library Pavilion beneath the Yaoqing Imperial Court, known as the "Vast Sea," the collection of various Martial Arts Techniques and Secret Manuals was piled so high there was no more room.
One could only imagine how powerful the Royal Family’s Martial Dao had become.
The flames of rebellion had been allowed to burn across the land for so many years without being extinguished, not because the Yaoqing Imperial Court truly lacked the ability to do so.
It was simply that the Royal Family couldn’t be bothered to deal with a group of insignificant, posturing clowns who posed no real threat.
The Royal Family’s power ran immeasurably deep. If they truly got serious, they could probably annihilate the entire Central Plains Martial World all over again with one hand.
Wang Su had taken the initiative to tell Li Chang’an all this a few days prior.
Wang Su’s lineage came from Shenxiao Temple, which dated back to the golden age of the Martial Dao over three hundred years ago. Unlike other Martial Arts Sects that were deeply involved in worldly affairs, Shenxiao Temple remained transcendent and focused solely on cultivation, so it had not been greatly affected during that bloody purge.
In the last hundred years, Shenxiao Temple’s lineage had steadily declined, but by the time it reached his generation, it had at least not been completely severed.
It was for this very reason that the old Daoist understood the terror of the Demon Qing Royal Court far better than the other sects of the Central Plains!
"I’ve told you before that this path is far more difficult than you imagine, and more difficult than most people in this world could ever imagine!"
A look of gratification appeared on the old Daoist’s face as he watched the increasingly formidable young man before him.
He couldn’t help but sigh. "Chang’an, with your talent, if you had been born in the Central Plains Martial Arts World three hundred years ago, you absolutely would have reached the pinnacle and led the Central Plains Martial Dao for dozens, even hundreds, of glorious years!"
The old Daoist seemed to be praising Li Chang’an, but it was more a lament for the injustice of him being "born at the wrong time."
In other words—he was indignant!
For a genius, this era of the Central Plains Martial Dao’s decline was absolute hell mode!
Li Chang’an had world-shaking talent but no Cultivation Techniques. He went through untold hardships to gather techniques but had no famous master to guide him.
If he wanted both Cultivation Techniques and a famous master, his only option was to become a dog for the Yaoqing Imperial Court.
It was a clear case of heaven’s envy for a prodigy!
Seeing the old Daoist’s pessimistic mood, Li Chang’an offered some words of comfort, "Is a genius who can be constrained by their era truly a genius at all?"
At this, the old Daoist just gave a bitter smile and shook his head. "Don’t you understand yet? You’re not fighting against the Yaoqing Imperial Court; you’re fighting against the entire Central Plains Martial Dao of three hundred years ago!"
Wang Su was not the type to be easily discouraged.
Quite the opposite, he had a carefree personality, able to take things in stride and let them go easily.
He not only knew the horrors of the Demon Qing Royal Court, but he also knew that with his own abilities, this rebellion was a suicidal endeavor—like a moth drawn to a flame, a path destined to never reach the other shore.
And yet, he had walked it with unwavering resolve.
The reason he was so despondent now was that he truly saw hope in Li Chang’an—the hope of overthrowing the Yaoqing Imperial Court!
This hope also made him constantly wonder: ’If only this child had a little more time, could the outcome be completely different?’
Li Chang’an sensed his master’s conflict and pain, and couldn’t help but offer a knowing smile. "Master, you don’t need to worry for me, and you certainly don’t need to feel indignant on my behalf. You’re always talking about how magnificent the Central Plains Martial Dao was three hundred years ago... but in my eyes, it was nothing special!"
He paused for a moment.
His gaze shifted to the Rebel Army in the distance, who were felling trees and setting up camp. Among them were a few of his young disciples, their faces still childish but filled with a resolve that was completely at odds with their age.
He declared, his voice filled with vigor, "Just you watch. I will show you what it means for the Martial Dao to truly flourish, for every person to be like a dragon! Even if I fall halfway and never reach the other shore, someone will take this torch from my hands and carry on with unwavering resolve. They will surely restore justice and order to this world!"
...