Fang Jie wasn't in the mood to discuss the issue of how many times a month the pain should occur with Da Quan. He found a quiet place to sit down and carefully pondered Mu Xiaoyao's earlier words. He felt he vaguely understood something, but Mu Xiaoyao's words, though seemingly simple, always seemed shrouded in a layer of mist. Fang Jie actually knew what this mist was, because he couldn't cultivate and therefore couldn't see the essence of cultivation.
The people from Hongxiuzhao were also cooking in front of them. They ate their own food and never invited Fang Jie and his companions. Old Cripple occasionally came over to chat with Mu Xiaoyao, but she always seemed indifferent. Ever since the amount of Northwest liquor in Old Cripple's gourd dwindled at an alarming rate, even Old Cripple rarely came anymore.
Whenever Mu Xiaoyao ignored Old Cripple, Fang Jie got angry and really wanted to spank her a few times for Old Cripple. In Fang Jie's view, this was the same as rich people not understanding the hardships of the poor—it was truly deserving of a beating.
He couldn't cultivate, while Mu Xiaoyao could, and possessed considerable talent. She also had a master, presumably a ninth-rank expert, eager to teach her, yet she wasn't particularly enthusiastic… This was the difference, a difference that sometimes left Fang Jie speechless with regret.
It would hurt.
Fang Jie realized this crucial point.
He had never felt the tearing pain of his meridians being widened, but he could imagine it in his mind. He leaned back on the grassy slope, soft, withered grass behind him, and closed his eyes to imagine… As someone who had been parachuted into this world, Fang Jie had read countless fantastical online novels in his previous life. The descriptions of cultivation in them were bizarre and varied, generally described as a thrilling and exhilarating experience.
But why, in this world, did pain accompany cultivation throughout one's life?
The Qi Sea possessed internal energy, connecting to the limbs and bones…
He closed his eyes and began to imagine what the Qi Sea looked like. Something existing in words, yet difficult to visualize in concrete form. For example, the Qi Sea, which exists within everyone's dantian, is something even a seasoned physician practicing medicine his entire life might not dare claim to know its exact form.
The Qi Sea is formless, as is internal energy, yet this intangible force can strengthen the tangible body. Once the energy within the Qi Sea can circulate throughout the limbs and bones, ultimately altering the meridians and tempering the flesh and blood, then a person could become so powerful that tearing apart a tiger or leopard with their bare hands would not be difficult. It is said that in the fifteenth year of the Sui Dynasty, General Luo Yao, the Left Vanguard General, during the attack on Yongzhou, utterly crushed the last three eighth-rank cultivators of the Shang Kingdom's royal family into a pulp.
This included an eighth-rank talisman master.
Eighth-rank talisman masters are absolute powerhouses, rarely seen in the entire world. It is said that talisman cultivation exceeding the eighth rank can already influence the outcome of a small-scale war. In fact, this eighth-rank talisman master single-handedly guarded the gates of the Yongzhou imperial city, blocking the advance of hundreds of elite Sui soldiers who launched numerous fierce attacks but could not break through.
One talisman transformed into fire, instantly incinerating the first dozen or so Sui soldiers who charged forward.
One talisman transformed into lightning, shattering the sturdy shields of the Sui soldiers who then advanced in shield-bearing formation. Their sharp steel swords were even heated red-hot, making them impossible to grip.
One talisman transformed into stone, dozens of city bricks suddenly changing shape, transforming into sharp stone spikes that flew out, impaling and killing more than a dozen Sui soldiers who had lost their shields.
An eighth-rank talisman master guarded the city gate, preventing hundreds of well-trained Sui soldiers from approaching. Two generals with the cultivation of the upper seventh rank were urgently dispatched from the army. Even working together, they couldn't withstand three talismans; one was smashed into a pulp by a boulder, and the other was burned to a crisp.
It was precisely because this talisman master guarded the last city gate that the Shang emperor was able to escape from the other side of the palace. Although… in the end, he was strangled to death by Luo Yao's men.
Just as the talisman master learned that the emperor had left the city and was preparing to retreat, General Luo Yao arrived.
Sensing the chilling killing intent emanating from Luo Yao, the talisman master dared not hold back at all. The first talisman transformed into five lightning spears, striking Luo Yao's chest with a speed almost imperceptible to the naked eye. The second talisman transformed into two massive boulders, suddenly appearing on either side of Luo Yao, slamming shut like two heavy doors. The third talisman transformed into a wall of fire, the raging flames burning before the talisman master, obscuring his figure. After creating these three talismans, the talisman master immediately turned and fled.
Luo Yao's eyes remained fixed on the figure faintly visible behind the wall of fire, as he slowly advanced.
The two boulders crashed down upon him, but Luo Yao neither dodged nor evaded. The boulders slammed into him, and then… shattered, turning into a pile of pebbles. The hard stone, surprisingly, could not leave a single mark on Luo Yao. The second bolt of lightning, formed from a talisman, struck instantly. Luo Yao remained unmoved, his forward stride unwavering, each step measured and precise, as if calculated.
The lightning struck Luo Yao squarely in the chest, the flashes intense before fading.
Luo Yao continued forward, his upper garments burned away by the lightning. In the sunlight, his bronze skin gleamed with a cold, metallic sheen.
The boulder shattered, the lightning struck.
Luo Yao struck, throwing a punch through the wall of fire.
Then, without a second glance, he turned and walked away, without uttering a word.
When the fire had cleared, the Sui soldiers who had rushed in searched the city gates for a long time without finding the eighth-rank talisman master. Only after they stormed through the city gates did they discover, to their astonishment, that the talisman master's body was embedded in the stone steps leading to the imperial palace. The distance from the city gate to the steps leading to the palace was at least fifty meters.
It was unclear whether the talisman master had been punched into the stone steps after running fifty meters, or blasted away and embedded in them.
Fang Jie had heard this story when he was exiled to Dali City in Southern Yan. Every time he recalled it, the image of Luo Yao's domineering punch would haunt him. Although Fang Jie believed the story, passed down for fifteen years, was certainly exaggerated, it didn't diminish Luo Yao's determination to become his target.
Luo Yao couldn't cultivate, and neither could he.
Energy is formless, but the body has form.
He couldn't feel his Qi Sea…
Fang Jie slowly opened his eyes, looking at the sky… He might as well stop thinking about it; the human body was its most powerful weapon.
…
…
Just as Fang Jie was deciding to give up cultivating his Qi Sea, in the second carriage of the Red Sleeve Pavilion ahead, a slender hand holding a jade cup suddenly paused, glancing in Fang Jie's direction. Her gaze couldn't penetrate the carriage, yet she seemed to see something. She set down the jade cup, her beautiful eyes glancing at Granny Xi, who was resting with her eyes closed.
Granny Xi smiled slightly and shook her head. "With Master Luo here, it's alright."
Her jade-like hand, holding the cup, slowly rose, the cup touching her red lips. "This time... it seems even Master Luo can't handle it."
Granny Xi paused, then stood up and rummaged through the carriage, finding an exquisite sandalwood box. She opened it and took something out.
"Ten years without use, I wonder if it's still usable."
Her tone was somewhat melancholic, as if some memory had been stirred.
Just then, Mu Xiaoyao, who had been sleeping in the carriage, suddenly sat up abruptly. Her expression changed, and she leaped down from the carriage. In a flash, she was beside Fang Jie.
Fang Jie paused for a moment when he saw Mu Xiaoyao get off the carriage, then chuckled, "What? Besides sensing the strength of experts, can you also sense that someone as strong and determined as me has made another extraordinary decision? Is it because my determination has changed the surrounding air, creating a powerful aura?"
"Go to Hongxiuzhao."
Mu Xiaoyao ignored Fang Jie's slightly self-deprecating words, her expression becoming extremely serious: "Go immediately!"
At some point, Daquan also emerged from the bushes. He stood beside Mu Xiaoyao, looking due south, his already thin eyebrows almost furrowed together.
"The killing intent is too strong… we can't withstand it at all."
Fang Jie then noticed that Daquan had already put on a pair of gloves with steel spikes. And the red ribbon, which Mu Xiaoyao had been hiding somewhere, was now wrapped around her waist.
"I can't sense anyone particularly strong."
Mu Xiaoyao looked at Daquan and said doubtfully. "This is only the second time in years I've smelled such intense killing intent. I can't even imagine how much blood and how many lives the person about to appear before me has. Xiaoyao… don't laugh, but my legs are trembling. How about we all retreat to the Red Sleeve Pavilion? That old cripple is freakishly strong; maybe he can hold us off… if not, we'll run immediately."
"Okay!"
Mu Xiaoyao didn't say another word, grabbed Fang Jie's belt, turned, and dashed away.
When the three of them reached the Red Sleeve Pavilion camp about a hundred meters away, they found the old cripple already standing at the outermost edge of the group. He was carrying that ridiculously large wine gourd, his eyes slightly narrowed.
Fang Jie didn't feel ashamed at being dragged there by Mu Xiaoyao, and naturally stood behind the old cripple.
After standing there, he thought for a moment, then took a few steps back and stood behind a carriage.
The old cripple snorted coldly, full of disdain.
"So, can you tell?"
He asked Mu Xiaoyao.
"One sixth-rank, twelve fourth-rank, and the rest are all no more than second-rank, mostly first-rank."
The old cripple nodded, but his expression didn't lighten at all.
Fang Jie couldn't help but ask, "Since most of them are first or second-rank, why are you all so on high alert?"
Mu Xiaoyao's gaze was fixed on the distance, and she softly uttered a few words: "More than five hundred people."
...
...
Fang Jie wasn't unfamiliar with the grand spectacle of hundreds of men appearing together. In his previous life, he had seen scenes of a hundred or so men gathered together in gangster movies, which were quite thrilling. Especially when everyone was wearing the same uniform, even a few dozen people gathered together looked impressive.
In Fan Gu, he was a qualified scout.
Fan Gu had eight hundred border troops, and Fang Jie's favorite thing to do was to find a place to sit during their training and watch the neatly arranged border troops drill. Eight hundred might not seem like a large number, but when you witness eight hundred border soldiers in uniform training in perfect unison, you truly understand the power of that number when they are united.
During his three years in Fan Gu, Fang Jie still found the sight of eight hundred border soldiers assembled incredibly impressive. The Sui Dynasty's border army was formidable; Nirvana City near Wolf Milk Mountain alone boasted two thousand cavalry. This demonstrated the immense importance the Mongol Empire placed on the Sui Dynasty's border army.
Fang Jie wasn't ignorant; he'd seen eight hundred border soldiers before.
However, when the five hundred men Mu Xiaoyao had mentioned appeared before him, he couldn't help but gape in astonishment.
If the eight hundred border soldiers in Fan Gu City were the most elite army Fang Jie had ever seen in his life, then these five hundred soldiers arriving amidst the dust and smoke gave him a completely new understanding of the word "elite." They weren't cavalry, but infantry. And it was precisely because they weren't cavalry that Fang Jie's shock was overwhelming from the very first glance. Five hundred infantrymen, their footsteps kicking up dust like cavalry sweeping across the land, a black line surging like waves in the swirling yellow sand.
These five hundred infantrymen, when they ran, moved with the speed of galloping horses! The black line appeared only briefly before the wave was upon them.
These five hundred infantrymen, when they suddenly stopped, maintained their formation perfectly! Running at such speed, at a single command, the soldiers immediately halted, the square formation remaining unchanged, the distance between soldiers barely altered.
Moving like thunder, still as a mountain.
The imposing square formation of five hundred men came to a halt, dust billowing forward. When the dust cleared, the true faces of the black-armored soldiers were revealed. No war drums, no horns, not even a single word; the silence was so profound one could almost hear their own heartbeat.
No golden embroidered dragon banners were seen, but within the territory of the Great Sui Dynasty, such elite troops could not have come from elsewhere.
Fang Jie looked at the soldiers and couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
These are the real elite troops.