knife

Chapter 119 Bloodstained Chang'an

The snow fell heavily, and the roads were once again covered in snow.

Wu De led his horse down the mountain path, leaving a trail of deep footprints in the snow.

It's like spilling a long string of ink marks on a landscape painting.

The wind was strong, and the snow was cold.
Wu De did not cover his head and face tightly.
He felt very hot, his heart was heavy, and his head was throbbing.

Or perhaps it was the greetings from an old friend from outside the Great Wall that made Mr. Yu Entai very happy. He drank a lot of wine and talked a lot with Wu De.

When Wu De left, the old man was fast asleep amidst a pile of ink-scented manuscripts, with a large cat as his head resting on it, a small cat nestled in his arms, and a tabby cat clutched in his hand.

The equally white-haired servant seemed used to this, simply bringing blankets to cover the old man. Even the cats didn't struggle to leave, but instead stayed with the old man, closing their eyes and snoring.

They didn't care at all about Wu De's departure.

Wu Dexin was filled with resentment and could not find peace.

Why!
This vast land is merely a chessboard for their game of strategy;
These living beings are merely cattle and sheep they herd;
When the country is torn apart by their recklessness, and when the people under their rule rise up in rebellion, they will conveniently put forward a scapegoat, and all the blame will be borne by this scapegoat.

Chaos and war are merely ways for them to cover up their crimes.

Ordinary people struggle to survive amidst the chaos of war.
However, they gained more benefits from the war.

They even squeeze oil out of corpses.

Finally, the strongest stood at the top, seemingly signaling the arrival of a new era.

But once the dust settles and someone with a discerning eye examines the situation closely...
You'll find that many old families have indeed disappeared, while new families have risen amidst the chaos of war.

But some families remain unchanged since ancient times.

It's them again!

Newly enthroned powerful individuals are always strong and so confident as to be obsessive. They believe they can break free from this destiny in their own cycle of reincarnation, thereby establishing an eternal dynasty that will remain unchanged for all time.

Thus, a new round of competition began.

This is the secret of dynastic changes.

The cold snow pelted Wu De's face, but he wanted to howl to the sky.

He was an orphan, but he wasn't without parents.

However, his parents both died of illness and starvation.

Even on his deathbed, his father lamented that it was because of his own uselessness and incompetence that he hoped his son would be better than him in the future.

But now Wu De understands that it's not because his parents are useless, but because their fate has never been in their own hands.

Whether the world is at peace or in chaos, it has always been a matter of someone stirring things up.

The reason for this manipulation is simply because these people want more.

Even if what they possess is so much that ordinary people cannot imagine or even understand it.

But they still wanted more.

Wu De recalled his recent journey beyond the Great Wall. The bandit Li Dachui had once told him that one day he would trample the bones of officials and nobles on the streets and hang the heads of powerful people at the gates of the camp.

I even laughed at him back then, saying he was arrogant!
But now?
Wu De stopped, and the horse obediently stopped as well, sticking out its big tongue to lick Wu De's face.

Wu De looked up at the sky, where dark clouds hung heavy and snowflakes were falling on his face.

He closed his eyes and let out a furious shout:
"kill!"

His inner energy surged upwards, overflowing his crown chakra, and his bones cracked and popped.

The whistling sound broke through the wind and snow, reaching straight to the sky, and in an instant, the wind and snow dispersed.

Advancement.

Wu De, who had been stuck at the peak of the eighth rank for many years, broke through his shackles and reached the ninth rank of the Profound Origin on a snowy night that had left him extremely frustrated.

The falling snowflakes appeared even denser under the light of the occasional lanterns hanging by the roadside. Amidst the jingling of horse bells, a group of five or six people trudged through the snow, riding slowly along.

The leader, about thirty years old, wore a scholar's cap and a crimson robe. He had long, thin eyebrows that slanted into his temples, triangular eyes, and slightly high cheekbones. His face looked somewhat harsh. His lips were tightly pursed, but he could not suppress his joy. Judging from his appearance, he seemed to have just returned from the government office.

His name is Liu Qinglin, Liu from Hedong.

Just today, he was transferred from his position as a military advisor in the Seventh Division of the Ministry of War, which was in charge of twelve prefectures in the south, to a position as a secretary in the Ministry of Personnel.

Although the job title is only a lateral transfer, the position itself is much more important.

Previously, in the Seventh Division of the Ministry of War, I was only in charge of the allocation of supplies to the twelve southern prefectures and the auditing of their annual expense accounts. Now, however, I have direct access to the core personnel appointments of the entire empire.

It may seem like a flat tune, but it's actually a leap forward.

Even though he was the most outstanding member of the Liu family in this generation, he couldn't suppress his joy.

In the family competition, he ultimately prevailed, so this important position eventually fell to him.

Military experience is merely an embellishment for future appointments to higher positions; having it is sufficient.

Looking back on the past two years, Liu Qinglin felt content.

The times are about to undergo a dramatic change.

In this dramatic change, the higher one's position, the more resources one will control, and the greater one's influence will be in the future.

Step by step, step by step.

Today is a farewell banquet for his former colleagues. Whether they were on good terms or not, everyone gave him face. Everyone knows that with this departure, he will embark on a path to great success. Even his immediate superior came over today to offer him a toast.

In the days to come, there will definitely be a constant stream of banquets, which is to be expected. Some will come to curry favor with you, while others will be the ones you have to curry favor with.

As for those higher up, the clan will handle that; I'll just be a wine jug carrier then.

Liu Qinglin didn't like the role. He preferred sitting at the table drinking to standing behind people pouring drinks.

A cold wind blew, and the effects of the alcohol surged up. He couldn't help but bend over, opening his mouth as if to vomit.

A sudden, dense sound of wind breaking came, and dozens of figures appeared on the rooftops of both sides of the street, with dozens of spears flying in densely.

Terrified, Liu Qinglin fell off his horse with a thud. Several spears grazed his body and embedded themselves in the ground. His warhorse neighed and crashed to the ground, several spears piercing its back.

The sounds of people falling off their horses were incessant. All the servants who had accompanied him fell off their horses. Liu Qinglin felt a chill run down his spine. The effects of the alcohol had long since vanished. He drew the waist knife from the side of his warhorse, quickly rushed to the street corner, leaned against the wall, and held the knife horizontally in front of his chest with both hands.

"Who wants my life? Aren't you afraid of my Liu family's revenge and the extermination of your entire clan?" he shouted sternly.

The crowd slowly surrounded them, with four men at the head, all wielding sabers.

"Let me go! Whatever you want, the Liu family will give you!" Liu Qinglin took a deep breath, not giving up on persuading his opponents: "No matter what those who wanted to kill me gave you, the Liu family will repay you tenfold!"

No one answered; the four swords silently approached.

"Kill!" Liu Qinglin suddenly roared.

As a prominent family, while there is a focus on both literary and martial arts, one must be proficient in both. And someone like him, who considers himself a prodigy, would want to advance in both fields simultaneously.

His martial arts cultivation at the seventh rank was enough to make him stand out among his peers in the family.

The martial arts skills of the four horse-slaying swordsmen were not as high as his.

But they were even more fearless and undaunted.

Without dodging or flinching,

Fearless

With one strike,

There is no turning back.

It's not that you die,

It means my death.

If he only had one knife, Liu Qinglin would have plenty of ways to deal with it. But facing four knives of the same kind, and being forced into such a narrow street with enemies watching him from above, he would have nothing left but despair.

He roared and charged forward, easily plunging his knife into a man's chest.

Then, he felt himself flying.

He saw his own body dressed in a crimson robe.
He saw two legs clad in expensive deerskin boots.
He saw the sachet that his wife had personally placed in his arms that morning, flying into the air, as well as the silver fish and talisman that represented his rank.

Within a radius of several dozen feet, there was blood everywhere.

Only when we know we will lose something can we appreciate the meaning of what we have; and only when we are close to death can we feel the value of life.

At that moment, Liu Qinglin had no grand ambitions in his mind; he was only thinking: If only I could still be alive.

With a loud thud, his head hit the ground.

The men in black carried their dead comrade and disappeared without a trace in the wind and snow.

Sima Lang of Bohai, a 36-year-old captain of the Seventh Regiment of the Imperial Guards, was skilled in the use of the horse spear and had a martial arts cultivation of the upper eighth rank. During the Battle of Xiangcheng, he led the Seventh Regiment to cover the rear, charging back and forth with only his spear, buying the fleeing Imperial Guards half a day. He was praised by his contemporaries and was one of the few generals to be commended after this disastrous defeat.

Few would imagine that he was one of the masterminds behind this crushing defeat, and that this desperate rearguard action was a personal performance he orchestrated to win people's hearts and gain their gratitude.

Of course, his martial arts skills are genuine.

His goal was to become the commander of one of the three major battalions of the Chang'an Imperial Guard before he turned forty.

Now, he is one step closer to his goal.

He was promoted from the seventh-ranking officer to the left-hand general of the main camp.

Sima Lang immediately rode his horse along the road. Although it was night, the snow made it easy to see the men blocking his way with long spears.

Although this place is outside the city, it is only a few miles away from Chang'an. It's really foolish and daring of them to come here to ambush me.

No matter what the person on the other end does, they can die!
A one-on-one fight? Is it really necessary?

Sima Lang waved his hand, and more than ten of his retainers immediately rode forward and charged.

The next moment, Sima Lang's expression changed.

The whistling of crossbows echoed across the snowy landscape.

More than ten unsuspecting guards screamed and fell from their horses.

Amidst the laughter of the masked man with a gun, he charged forward on horseback.

Sima Lang, both surprised and furious, spurred his horse forward to meet them.

As the spears clashed, Sima Lang's heart immediately sank to the bottom.

Who wants to kill me?

In just a few breaths, the two had exchanged dozens of blows.

As the spear flew far away, Wu De slew his opponent off his horse with a single thrust. The spear tip pressed against the opponent's throat, and looking at the terrified and distorted face, he said calmly, "I, on behalf of tens of thousands of fallen soldiers of Xiangcheng, will take your life!"

The spear pressed down, pinning Sima Lang to the snow.

That night, Chang'an was hit by seven attacks, resulting in 65 deaths.

The deceased were all government officials.

The murderer escaped without a trace.

(End of this chapter)