Chapter 102: Journey Through Wind and Rain

Before setting off, He Chang’an made a trip to the southern part of the city and shared a few bowls of wine with some scholars from the academy before departing.

Li Yishan, Ma Dai, and Shen Yan—these scholars were truly remarkable. Half in jest and half in earnest, He Chang’an spoke to them, and surprisingly, they took his words seriously.

Following He Chang’an’s advice, Li Yishan set aside his poetry and literary studies to focus wholeheartedly on the arts of Qi observation, Qimen Dunjia, and celestial calculations, eventually uncovering some real insights.

It was said that in several previous battles, Li Yishan’s Qi observation techniques had played a crucial role.

Standing atop the city walls, he would quietly calculate with his fingers, glance at the sky, and then simply inform Zheng Hongxiu which direction the ghostly troops’ luck was waning. A few cavalry sorties from the Tang forces would then inevitably result in countless enemy casualties.

He had nearly become Zheng Hongxiu’s “trusted strategist” for the garrison...

Ma Dai’s sword technique, named “Spring’s Arrival,” after being appraised and refined by martial arts masters like Zheng Hongxiu, had become quite popular along the northern frontier.

While “Spring’s Arrival” was average in offense, its true value lay in nurturing vitality, cultivating Qi, and gathering spirit—perfect for soldiers infused with Yin Sha energy.

The greatest achievement, however, belonged to Shen Yan.

A clean-cut scholar, a rare talent from the academy, he was coaxed by He Chang’an into inventing and creating—and actually managed to produce something noteworthy.

He poured over the texts of the Mohists and Taoist scriptures, spent nearly all the academy’s reserves, and finally forged the “Sword of Righteous Vitality.”

This sword featured slots for embedding spirit stones; the wielder only needed to infuse it with righteous Qi or spiritual energy to automatically activate the engraved runic formations on the blade, rivaling magical artifacts, literary treasures, or Buddhist relics.

In other words, any cultivator, regardless of their rank, could wield a weapon of artifact-level power...

Zheng Hongxiu personally tested it, and with a mere wave, allocated a large amount of forging materials and spirit stones, assigning hundreds of craftsmen to Shen Yan to establish the Divine Arms Battalion.

Shen Yan became its first commander.

It was foreseeable that once such weapons could be mass-produced, the combat strength of human soldiers would rise dramatically.

He Chang’an went to bid farewell to Shen Yan, who was buried in a pile of blueprints, barely raising his head and waving a hand as a greeting.

...

Having bid farewell to the scholars, He Chang’an and Zhang Xiaoyan finally set out, heading south.

He Chang’an actually wished to ride a horse; since arriving in this strange Tang dynasty, despite rising steadily through the ranks as constable, squad leader, and demon slayer, he had never ridden a horse.

Back then, the county magistrate Yang had given him a skinny donkey as a mount, which always frustrated him.

At the time, his two greatest wishes were to find a way to kill the female ghost who kept him in thrall, and to get a horse.

Dressed in fine clothes, riding a spirited horse, a young man brandishing a sword—that image thrilled him.

But he gave up on that dream.

Zheng Hongxiu was always calculating how to expand the cavalry battalion, and asking her for horses would probably just get him kicked to the curb again.

Fortunately, there was a Great Celestial Master from Longhu Mountain, stationed tens of miles from Dasan Pass. Zhang Xiaoyan casually handed a stack of talismans to He Chang’an, smiling, “These are Swift Wind talismans. I just drew a few dozen; you can use them for now.”

One Swift Wind talisman cost three hundred taels of silver...

He Chang’an held the stack in his hand, feeling its weight, and couldn’t help but wonder if Zhang Xiaoyan’s family owned a mine.

Well, even richer than mine owners.

After a moment’s hesitation, He Chang’an tucked away the talismans and smiled, “I’ll keep them for now and return any unused ones when we reach Longhu Mountain.”

Zhang Xiaoyan smiled sweetly, “Yes, I’ll leave it all to you, young master.”

“...”

He Chang’an’s face instantly fell as he silently walked ahead, stretching and shadowboxing as he went.

The journey south was long—it was said that Longhu Mountain lay tens of thousands of miles away. Having a delicate and charming young man following him was hardly a trivial matter.

Just thinking about it gave him a headache.

Fortunately, a technique in ancient boxing called “Dragon’s Path” existed, which He Chang’an liked to call “root standing.”

He planned to practice just this move during the daytime on the road to Longhu Mountain, and other techniques in the mornings and evenings.

With dragon-like strides and tiger-like steps, moving boldly forward, He Chang’an’s speed was fast but his punches slow—still quite imposing.

However, Zhang Xiaoyan, strolling leisurely behind him, never stopped critiquing his boxing: one moment this move wasn’t natural or expressive enough, the next that step was flashy but impractical...

In short, he wouldn’t stop nagging.

Luckily, practicing under the Dragon Gate Waterfall, He Chang’an could ignore external distractions. Zhang Xiaoyan’s nitpicking and coquettishness were simply white noise to him.

By sunset, the two had covered nearly three hundred miles, a steady pace—not too fast, not too slow.

If He Chang’an hadn’t been reluctant to use the Swift Wind talismans, traveling three to five hundred miles a day would have been no problem.

That was three hundred taels of pure silver...

He considered himself generous, though even his companion Ajiu complained he was a “poor generous man.” Still, could a few taels compare to three hundred?

An old scholar once said many don’t turn bad, not because they’re good, but because the temptations they face aren’t yet great enough.

That was roughly the idea.

He Chang’an hunted a few pheasants and wild rabbits in the wilderness. In a small, sheltered mountain hollow, he set up two tents and started a fire to stew the meat.

Zhang Xiaoyan, like a young lady, took a pouch of clear water from her storage bag, washed carefully, then sat inside the tent to shape her eyebrows, apply powder, and affix flower stickers to her face.

By the time she emerged, half an hour had passed.

He Chang’an looked up, startled—his legs suddenly felt weak.

The Great Celestial Master of Longhu Mountain wore a pale yellow skirt and hairpin, her soft chest half-exposed, eyebrows lightly drawn, cherry-red lips vividly alluring. Upon seeing He Chang’an, she shifted sideways and half-crouched in a deep bow.

“Young master, I’m hungry,” she said.

‘I wish I could just go blind...’

He Chang’an stirred the wild game in the bronze cauldron with a twig, silent.

Once Zhang Xiaoyan started talking, she wouldn’t stop, enough to drive him mad.

If only she were a woman, with such bright eyes, incomparable beauty, and endless charm—how wonderful that would be...

Zhang Xiaoyan paid no mind to He Chang’an’s coldness; she produced a pure white fur cloak and gracefully wrapped herself in it. The pale yellow skirt’s hem draped like a soft cloud, making her even more radiant.

“Young master, why don’t you add some spirit herbs to the stew?” she asked, smiling.

He Chang’an remained silent.

With a sigh of grievance, Zhang Xiaoyan took out a jade box containing seven or eight rare spirit herbs native to the northern snowfields, casually tossing a few into the cauldron.

“You’ve been boxing all day. Your strength has increased a bit, but your blood and Qi are drained. You need strong nourishment to quickly enhance your cultivation.”

He Chang’an watched helplessly as several priceless spirit herbs were used to stew pheasant and rabbit. It pained him to see such waste.

This prodigal lady—or rather, prodigal fellow!

Seeing through his thoughts, Zhang Xiaoyan grinned and said, “Young master, don’t worry. I have plenty of silver. And don’t complain about my wastefulness, okay? I just want to help you recover your strength...”

Her soft, gentle words grew so quiet they were almost inaudible, making He Chang’an’s teeth itch and scalp tingle, wanting nothing more than to howl at the sky.

Just as he was about to tell this Great Celestial Master to stop flaunting herself and keep him from losing control and launching an attack...

Suddenly, he sensed an unusual and imminent danger. His body instantly tensed.

“Stop pretending to be innocent. Prepare for battle!” He Chang’an said in a low voice.

“Aww, how annoying, I haven’t even eaten my meat yet. Sister’s too weak to fight you...” Zhang Xiaoyan teased, lazily stretching her slender waist, while her left hand hidden in her sleeve began rapidly calculating.

In her right hand, she held a thick stack of talismans.