Daqin Zhentiansi

Chapter 612 Marquis Qingyang is assassinated!
"puff!"

Zhang Yuan's fist was slightly slower than his sword strike, and it landed squarely on Lu Wenzhao's dantian.

The protective sword aura of the Seven Profound Sword Sect elder shattered like an eggshell, and the Seven Killing Cave Heaven that appeared behind him was shrunk to the size of a walnut by this punch.

“What a fine… sacrificing oneself to feed the sword…” Lu Wenzhao coughed up blood and retreated thirty feet, but the long sword in his hand emitted a pleasant ringing sound. “Lord Qingyang, you forcibly opened the Dao Body of the Carefree Realm, and your heart and lungs have been hollowed out by the Seven Kill Sword Qi.”

Taking advantage of the moment, the Blood River Ancestor's withered claws gripped Zhang Yuan's crown: "The Dao injury has penetrated to the marrow; even immortals cannot save you!"

"is it?"

Zhang Yuan's blood-stained lips suddenly curled up, and the dissipating power of the Great Dao around him abruptly contracted.

The Three Realms Cave Heaven condensed into a chaotic vortex the size of a millstone behind him, which he unleashed with a punch.

"Crack!"

As the Blood River Ancestor screamed and retreated back into the earth's veins, his entire left arm had already been chewed up by the chaotic vortex into the purest essence of heaven and earth.

Lu Wenzhao let out a long laugh, and seven sword pellets protected him as he vanished into the void: "Within three days, your Dao injury will erupt, beyond the saving of even immortals and gods. Marquis Qingyang, you are doomed—"

As the thunderclouds dissipated and the bloodstains vanished, Zhang Yuan staggered and slumped onto the broken carriage shaft.

Luo Hongxiu frantically tore off the hem of her silk skirt to block the sword wound in his chest, only to find that fine golden Dao patterns floated in the gushing blood.

"Quickly! Summon the head of the Secret Medicine Department!" Luo Hongxiu cried out repeatedly, her face pale.

As Chen Wu dragged his broken leg over, he heard his lord's weak, mocking laugh: "What's the panic? I'm not going to die..."

Ten miles away, the Dao patterns on Lu Wenzhao's sword blade flowed, and he chuckled in the moonlight: "Dao wounds transform into a sword, wonderful."

Within his body, the Seven Killings Sword Qi was slowly refining the golden Dao patterns into a seed of sword intent.

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At 11:45 AM, at the Yunling border military camp.

The rushing night rain lashed at the corner flags of the arrow tower, extinguishing the scattered bonfires on the drill ground.

The captain, his face covered in scars, stepped onto the slippery grain cart. His blood-stained scalpel cleaved through the sacks, and snow-white salt grains mixed with mud splattered onto his soaked leather armor: "Look! Top-grade salt is written as coarse salt in the Ministry of Revenue's accounts, and the cotton wadding in your summer shirt is heavier than a shroud!"

He swept the tip of his knife across the hundred or so faces below the stage, faces pale from being soaked in rain, and roared, "Haven't you had enough of this kind of life yet?"

The soldiers below the stage wore tattered hemp clothing that clung to their chests, and the veins on the backs of the hands of several young soldiers, gripping their chipped waist knives, bulged out.

The squad leader at the front row suddenly ripped open his moldy collar, revealing festering sores on his neck: "The fine rice from the other day has turned into moldy bran cakes, and my son is so hungry he's chewing grass roots!"

A thunderous roar erupted behind him: "Rebellion!"

"My pension was fed to leeches!"

"Who the hell wants this filthy life!"

"The Qin have mistreated our border brothers for far too long!" The captain wiped the rain from his eyes and tossed the oil-soaked hemp rope toward the supply wagon. "Tonight, follow me to fight our way to Eastern Wei—"

Mars struggled to glow and flicker in the torrential rain, and the entire camp was suddenly illuminated by a ghastly white flash of lightning.

Silent figures stood in the night rain!

The captain's eyes widened, and as he staggered backward, he knocked over a barrel of tung oil. The torch was extinguished by Chen Qing just two inches in front of the supply wagon.

The usually silent supply battalion lieutenant unfurled the files from the Drizzle Tower, his bluish knuckles rustling as he gripped the papers: "Wei Chengyang, the Azure Wolf Guard, you've impersonated the Qin family's orphan—"

"Bury him in Snow Cloud Valley!"

The last surviving member of the Qin family!

Their garrison was originally soldiers under Qin Feng, a border commander.

Chen Qing's words stunned all the soldiers who had followed the captain in the rebellion.

The captain's pupils contracted sharply, and he drew his longsword abruptly, pointing it at Chen Qing: "Don't listen to this dog of an official's nonsense!"

Chen Qing stood still, unmoved.

In the darkness of the night and the rain, figures walked slowly forward.

The soldiers following Captain Wei Chengyang had a change of expression and unconsciously retreated.

“Wei Chengyang, the secret guard of the Seventh Battalion of the Azure Wolf Cavalry, you took the place of Qin Yuyang, the son of a Qin army captain, at the age of twelve, and have now become a Qin captain.”

"Have you ever considered that the torrential rain would wash away the mud that buries the bones, or that the snowmelt in Snow Cloud Valley would melt?" a voice rang out.

Zhao Defang, the Prefect of Donghan County, stepped out from the night rain. His official robe with python patterns was dripping with water, a gray-blue longsword hung at his waist, and the bronze plaque with the "Azure Wolf" pattern on his palm looked terrifying under the lightning.

"Twenty years ago in Snow Cloud Valley, the Eastern Wei surrounded and killed three hundred border soldiers of the Great Qin, just to plant you and those thirteen assassins in the Great Qin border army."

Zhao Defang pointed forward, and several figures among the rebel soldiers retreated in panic.

"Can the fertile fields and beautiful houses promised by the Wei people compare to the three hundred wronged souls of Xueyun Valley?" Zhao Defang shouted in his python robe. Behind him, crossbowmen appeared on the camp wall with the crisp sound of his magazines opening and closing.

The black iron arrowheads gleamed blue in the moonlight, pointing directly at the rebels who stood frozen in front of the granary.

Impersonation.

Is Colonel Qin Yuyang actually a secret guard of the Eastern Wei?

The rebels looked in alarm at the captain standing in front of them.

Wei Chengyang?
In the rebel ranks, a one-eyed old soldier stumbled out of formation, his finger trembling as he pointed at Wei Chengyang: "When the Qin family army of Xueyun Valley broke through with three hundred men, I personally witnessed Captain Qin entrust his ten-year-old son to a scout! You—"

The torrential rain pounded on Wei Chengyang's contorted face, and the veins on the back of his hand holding the knife bulged out.

"Old Qin, you're talking nonsense!" The blade suddenly pointed at the old soldier who had just spoken, his neck veins throbbing wildly. "I was the one who dug you out of that snowdrift back then!"

The one-eyed old soldier, known as Old Qin, gritted his teeth, revealing festering frostbite through the gaps in his raincoat: "Yes, it was you who dug me out. All three hundred old brothers are dead, only I am alive."

"I regret it! Snow Cloud Valley holds the souls of three hundred heroes, yet I mistook Wei Gou for the bloodline of Captain Qin. How can I face Captain Qin..."

Old Qin roared and charged toward Wei Chengyang.

Wei Chengyang's face turned fierce, and the blade of his long sword had already cleaved through the rain!

"Chong-"

Chen Qing's broadsword struck first, the back of the blade slamming heavily into Wei Chengyang's wrist bone. The sound of bones shattering mingled with the crisp sound of the goose-feather blade hitting the ground.

Taking advantage of the situation, three crossbowmen threw out their grappling hooks, and the iron chains instantly wrapped around Wei Chengyang's feet, dragging him to his knees in the mud.

"Dog thief!"

A cook with a pockmarked face suddenly rushed out of the crowd, his cleaver, covered in bran, slashing hard at Wei Chengyang's shoulder. "So that's why you're always away from the camp when we raid grain lairs!"

This strike seemed to ignite a fuse, and the rebels surged forward like a tidal wave.

"How much benefit did Eastern Wei give you?"

"Give me back my brother's life!"

A dozen pairs of straw sandals splashed mud and water everywhere, and Wei Chengyang's screams were muffled by the rain.

Zhao Defang's python robe remained unmoved, allowing blood to splatter onto its hem.

Chen Qing suddenly swung his broadsword horizontally, the shockwave scattering the out-of-control crowd: "Leave them alive!"

Wei Chengyang, curled up in the mud, had his right arm strangely bent backward, and half a hairpin stuck in his left eye—the only keepsake of the cook's wife.

Lightning struck the thirteen death cells beneath the grain carts, illuminating their Eastern Wei tattoos.

"Take him away." Zhao Defang shook the blood off the dossier. "I want to see the roster of the Azure Wolf Guards before dawn."

Chen Qing stepped on Wei Chengyang's intact left hand, and the tip of his knife pierced through the dark layer of the armor, causing the blood-stained Eastern Wei tiger tally to fall to the ground with a clang.

The torrential rain washed away the two characters "Imperial Gift" on the tiger tally, much like the echo of that dirty deal in Snow Cloud Valley twenty years ago.

Zhao Defang's voice echoed in the night rain: "After clearing out the twenty-seven camps in the eastern border within three days, I also need to rush to Hulao Pass to check the canal transport accounts."

From the depths of the rain, the roar of Xuanjia Dragon Riders smashing through the camp gates echoed, and a troop of Xuanjia Dragon Riders followed Zhao Defang out of the gates in single file.

A few miles outside the gate, a warhorse galloped towards them.

"Prefect Zhao, the Marquis of Qingyang was seriously injured in an assassination attempt. Before going into seclusion, he ordered Prefect Zhao to take charge of the overall situation in Donghan County."

Marquis Qingyang has been assassinated!
Zhao Defang trembled, letting the night rain fall on her face.

"Go back to the county town!"

With a low shout, his warhorse galloped toward the county town, followed closely by the Xuanjia Dragon Riders.

(End of this chapter)