The old things I repaired have become fine

Chapter 685 Shen Le: I'm in Changbai Mountain? I'm clearly in Taishan!

Shen Le was momentarily stunned. He listened intently to the passionate, rough, and somewhat chaotic singing from the mountains, almost holding his breath:
"The Song of No Return to Liaodong"!
This piece of music was one he had read about in a history book, "The Song of Dying in Liaodong"!
Emperor Yang of Sui was a warmonger, launching three campaigns against Goguryeo—and the key point is that he lost all three campaigns, each one more devastating than the last.

Soldiers who enlisted with the ambition to kill the enemy, serve their country, and make meritorious contributions, and civilians who were unfortunately conscripted, were buried in foreign lands in large numbers.

Therefore, Wang Bo, the scholar-official, composed a song:

"For example, if someone dies in Liaodong, what harm is there in beheading them!"

Let's do it the other way around!

Let's rebel against the Sui Dynasty!
So what if I die at the hands of the government troops? For example, I already died in Liaodong!
Wang Bo was the first person to lead a peasant uprising at the end of the Sui Dynasty. His uprising fired the first shot against the rule of the Sui Dynasty, and the chaotic world began from then on!

How lucky I am to hear this song in person, even if it's just from the memories of old objects—wait!
Shen Le suddenly sensed something was amiss. He listened intently to the singing from the mountain, even mimicking the rhythm himself, then leaped to the treetop and gazed into the distance:
"I'm near Mount Tai...that's right! I didn't go all the way to Changbai Mountain!!!"

He was very familiar with the shape of Mount Tai!

He climbed it himself!

When I was in graduate school, my advisor brought them here. We arrived at Hongmen at 9 pm, started climbing at 10 pm, and reached Yuhuangding at 4 am. We were exhausted.

Of course, the main reason they were exhausted was that their mentor had taken them to the Dai Temple at the foot of the mountain for a whole day.

They observed and explained each building, drawing diagrams for every detail, working without a break all day...

He couldn't possibly have misremembered the distinctive shape and terrain of Mount Tai!
So who can tell him why the song "Zhi Shilang on Changbai Mountain" was sung on Mount Tai?
This is just as strange as singing "Grandpa was born in Liangshanbo" on the Yellow River, isn't it?
Changbai Mountain is in Jilin, not Shandong. I haven't traveled that far!
But now, there's no time for him to dwell on why this tune was playing on Mount Tai.

On the flat ground below the mountain, the sound of drums boomed, and a well-disciplined army was slowly approaching in time with the beat of the drums;
Even with songs rising and falling on the mountain and strange noises howling incessantly, the team remained calm and continued to advance without wavering.

Their armor wasn't very complete, with at most 30% of them wearing it. However, as the team advanced, there were long spears like a forest and swords flashing like snow, with only a few loose edges.

As for the number of soldiers in this army, Shen Le wasn't quite sure: he counted them horizontally and then vertically, but couldn't get a result after several attempts, so he could only rely on experience to judge—

"Probably a few thousand people? Anyway, it's about two or three times the size of the area when the whole school did morning exercises in my high school..."

—In contrast, its competitors are somewhat chaotic:
Although the number of people was so large that it seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see, and although a steady stream of people continued to pour out of the woods, they crowded together, pushed and shoved, and made noise from time to time.

If the troops marching with drums had an armor coverage rate of only 30%, then Wang Bo's troops—yes, this should be Wang Bo's troops—had an armor coverage rate of less than 50%.

In each group, only the leader wore armor, and in each large group—probably over a hundred people, Shen Le could only roughly estimate—only the leader wore iron armor.

The vast majority of people were dressed in tattered clothes and carrying pot lids. Forget leather armor, they didn't even have any thick clothing that offered any protection whatsoever!
As for weapons, unfortunately, Shen Le only saw the gleaming reflection of iron weapons under a few of the banners.

The vast majority of others carried sticks, hoes, rakes, and, well, pitchforks...

A peasant uprising!
Shen Le couldn't help but sigh. Without armor, weapons, training, or organization, it wouldn't be easy to find even a few literate people among them.

All that remained was a surge of courage, countless lives lost, and the hatred born from brutal exploitation and oppression, a hatred so intense it seemed the thought, "When will this end? I will die with you!"

No wonder so many peasant uprisings in ancient times failed in the end; their foundations in all aspects were simply too weak...

He scrambled down the mountain and ran through the forest, then found a plateau with a wide view to quietly observe.

Wang Bojun was already pushing forward in a dense crowd. The farmers shouted and yelled as they charged forward through a hail of arrows, and then they engaged in fierce fighting with the government troops.

Corpses fell one by one, the soil on the hillside soaked with blood, and the battle line undulated and tore apart, shaking back and forth.

To be honest, Shen Le couldn't see the situation at all, nor could he tell when the battle would end.

Even with the forced use of magic, all that could be seen was a majestic black tiger, constantly being attacked by a pack of wolves.

The black tiger roared incessantly, pouncing, tearing, and snapping its tail, each strike causing numerous casualties. Yet, packs of wolves, jackals, and even foxes and weasels relentlessly pounced upon it.

Even if it can't kill you, it will leave a wound on your body; even if it can't bite through your flesh, it will still pull out a few tiger hairs and exhaust some of the black tiger's strength!

The sun was gradually setting in the west. Shen Le had already drunk water three or five times and eaten some dry rations, but the fighting on the battlefield continued.

Blood flowed, and a thin black mist slowly rose, absorbing the blood and resentment, condensing into black clumps of varying sizes that rolled across the ground and sank into the grass, under the tree roots, and into the shadows.

Within the black mass, in the fiercest fighting area, tiny specks of silvery white light flickered, seemingly taking shape, only to vanish in the next instant:
"This is... a metalworking elite? A metalworking elite gathered on the battlefield?"

Shen Le couldn't help but stand on tiptoe and crane her neck to look. Before she could even understand what was happening, a fierce cry suddenly rang out from the battlefield:
The war drums thundered, more intense and even ferocious than when they were beating drums to advance.

Amid the drumbeats, a team that had never moved before—the most disciplined and armored team in the entire army—mounted in unison and began to trot along the path cleared by their teammates!
cavalry!

The cavalry moved!

Shen Le held his breath. Even after experiencing Li Xingtang's memories, he had never seen a large cavalry charge from this perspective:

Dust billowed everywhere, and every hoofbeat shook the ground, making the nearby infantry lose their footing.

In this battle where almost all the soldiers were infantry, and the opposing gun corps had been wiped out, with everyone wielding their swords in fierce combat, this cavalry unit cut straight through like a red-hot knife slicing through butter!

The peasant army collapsed almost immediately. Banners waved, they retreated, and fell.

The soldiers screamed and made way, some even turning and running away, completely ignoring the enemy waving their knives behind them.

Some even fled in panic, only to be blocked by friendly forces, and instinctively swung their weapons at them...

Wang Bo is dead!

Soon, a unified shout rang out on the battlefield:
Wang Bo is dead!

"Dead—"

The army formation collapsed with a crash. The spiritual eye observed that the packs of wolves, jackals, foxes, weasels, badgers, raccoons, and the like scattered wildly across the field, running away without looking back. As they ran, their bodies crumbled, turning into wisps of black mist, which quickly dissipated into the valleys and forests, disappearing without a trace.

The black tiger, however, grew even more majestic and spirited, roaring and charging through the pack of beasts. One bite, another paw—the tiger took one down with it, leaving trails of blood in its wake.

"Ah...this,this really is..."

Shen Le was deeply moved and speechless. Concentrating their strongest forces, they tore the enemy apart, delivering a decisive blow that shattered and destroyed their army.

Then, it was basically a relentless pursuit, a chase after the fleeing enemy, a command where several, dozens, or even hundreds of people would kneel down with their hands on their heads, cowering on the ground in fear...

Even with an innate fondness for peasant uprising armies, Shen Le was still captivated by the overwhelming violence and aesthetics on the battlefield.

Until the fleeing group broke apart and scattered like headless flies, some even ran to the high platform where he was, and then ran wildly along the edge of the platform.

Until the pursuing group caught up, looked up and saw him, gripped his knife and shouted:

"What are you doing!—Kneel down!"

"This humble Taoist is from the Xuanzhen Temple." Shen Le sighed and flicked his sleeve, causing a gust of wind to rise around him, tearing off large leaves that swirled around him.

"I am merely traveling and passing through this area. I am not a member of Wang Bo's faction, so please do not be rude!"

A dozen or so green and yellow leaves swirled around him, forming a small whirlwind that lingered. Shen Le then unfastened the jade pendant from his waist and showed it to the soldiers. Finally, he opened his palm and shot out a bolt of lightning.

The swirling wind, the thunder in the palm, and the jade tablet finally subdued the soldiers, preventing them from advancing. A moment later, an officer hurried over, clasped his hands in a salute:
"The men below are ignorant and have offended the immortal sir. —May I ask what important matter brings the immortal sir here, and whether this humble general can assist the immortal sir?"

"Oh, I've traveled the world and encountered countless ghosts and monsters along the way, so I came here to pay homage to Mount Tai and see if the spirit of the Mount Tai Lord is still alive," Shen Le replied without batting an eye.

He answered one question and immediately countered with another:

"Whose subordinates are you? Whom are you attacking?"

"We are under the command of Prefect Zhang... The rebel Wang Bo has gathered bandits and is attacking the area. Prefect Zhang has specially dispatched troops to suppress the rebels!" The officer stood tall and proud, his voice booming.

Shen Le was a little confused... Prefectural Assistant? Which Prefectural Assistant? Shouldn't a Prefectural Assistant be a civil official?

Why would someone lead troops into battle? For such a large-scale battle, the commander must be a general, and most likely a famous one at that!

He was pondering this, but too embarrassed to ask the officer, "What's your prefect's name?" The officer glanced at him furtively, paused, and then his voice suddenly dropped, almost cautiously:

"Since you've come, Immortal Master, could you please come into the camp and stay for a moment? Our army suffered heavy casualties in this battle. If you could help us perform a ritual to appease the departed souls, that would be wonderful..."

Shen Le had no objection and followed him down the mountain. He didn't know how to perform a soul-soothing ritual, but he did have some experience in dispersing and suppressing the black energy and letting it return to the world.

As we walked, I casually asked:

"By the way, didn't Wang Bo sing 'The Gentleman Who Knows the World on Changbai Mountain'? How did he end up here? Liaodong is a long way from here, over a thousand miles away!"

"Liaodong?" The junior officer looked at him with a completely blank expression, paused, turned around, and pointed outwards:
"Changbai Mountain is nearby! It's right next to Zhangqiu! How could it be thousands of miles away?"

Shen Le, who only knew that there was a Changbai Mountain in Jilin and had no idea that there was a mountain with that name elsewhere, was speechless.

He remained silent, following the junior officer down the mountain step by step. The closer they got to the battlefield, the clearer the previous carnage became:
The valley was littered with corpses. The vast majority of the bodies were dressed in tattered clothes, wearing straw sandals, or simply barefoot, with thick calluses on their hands and feet.

Many fell to the ground, wounded in the back, flesh and blood twisting between the withered ribs. Some stared wide-eyed, still shouting as if in the heat of battle, but had already bled their last drop.

Whether they died while fleeing or in the fighting, the vast majority of them were emaciated and hunched over.

The so-called weapons they held were mostly hoes, pitchforks, and dung pitchforks; a few were even chopped-down wooden sticks...

Shen Le walked slower and slower, finally stopping in front of a pile of corpses. Squads of government soldiers were still examining the bodies, some being lifted to the side, their faces turned upwards, and bloodstains being wiped from their faces;
Some would raise their hands and stab with a spear or a knife, watching the corpse remain motionless, and then cut off the ears without hesitation.

Others, seemingly corpses, would suddenly leap up and brandish their swords as soldiers approached. At this point, a small battle would erupt on the battlefield…

Shen Le finally could no longer walk. He stopped in front of a densely packed pile of corpses, head bowed, eyes downcast, muttering incantations.

His spiritual energy slowly radiated outwards, enveloping him within two feet, then one zhang, one and a half zhang, two zhang...

The hem of her clothes fluttered without any wind, and soon, on this battlefield strewn with corpses, it stirred up a small whirlpool. At first, it was completely transparent, only becoming visible because it stirred up the mud and dust on the ground;
After two or three turns, it took on a light gray hue, gradually becoming darker and darker, turning into a transparent light black.

After circling a few more times, a deep, dark red was added to the light black. The wind howled, like the wailing of ghosts, or like all the screams, cries, and wails of the entire battle, erupting at the same moment:

"Chang Immortal!"

The junior officer stumbled back two steps, tripped over a corpse, and fell backward with a loud thud.

Before he could even rise, the sound of galloping hooves thundered in the distance, and a large banner led a fierce cavalry force, charging straight towards him with the force of a torrent breaking through rocks:

"who?!"

"Jun, Jun Cheng..."

Shen Le seemed to hear the sound of horses' hooves and feel the wind rushing against his face. However, he had no mind to pay attention to it at the moment. He simply closed his eyes, stretched his arms to the sky, and murmured:
"The vast city of Fengdu, the towering Vajra Mountains, the boundless light of Lingbao illuminates the veil of the Fiery Pool..."

As he chanted, the black and red vortex rose upwards, becoming shallower and shallower until, gradually, specks of white light appeared, heading straight for the sky.

After a long while, Shen Le relaxed completely, opened his eyes, and saw a burly man standing in front of him, bowing respectfully.

"I am Zhang Xutuo. May I ask this venerable immortal's name?"

(End of this chapter)