Madam, don't do this!

Chapter 409 A journey of travel, killing, and bloodshed (1)

The sound of footsteps gradually approached.

Even Song Yan noticed the other party's presence, and a hint of suspicion appeared in his eyes. There were troops stationed here, and to be honest, the reputation of the military wasn't very good these days.

If corrupt officials at the top embezzle large sums of money and grain, then the officers and soldiers below have no choice but to find ways to raise military pay and provisions to save themselves.

How to raise funds?

Naturally, it should be borrowed from the people.

Almost every prefecture's garrison and every border army had a grain procurement team.

The so-called grain collection teams were actually posing as bandits, robbing merchants and even massacring villages.

The term "war disaster" refers to far more than just foreign tribes and foreign countries.

Because of their terrible reputation, ordinary people often flee from the sight of the army as if they were facing a tiger, their faces turning pale with fear, lest they be beheaded and robbed of their silver by the soldiers and bandits.

There is absolutely no one like the Taoist priest who dared to approach a military camp.

As Song Yan drew closer, he could see the man more clearly. He had a plump face that gave off a friendly vibe, completely different from the image of a venerable Taoist master that most people had of him. Although he wore a Taoist robe, the fabric was fine and dense, clearly of considerable value. The whisk in his hand and the jade pendant at his waist were exquisitely crafted, truly works of art.

Luo Tianxuan wasn't worried at all. Although the Taoist priest was quite strong, he was only a ninth-rank cultivator. In the face of a grandmaster, he couldn't cause much trouble.

"Ha ha ha ha……"

Laughter preceded their arrival.

"Tianxuan, it's been a long time. I heard from my elder sister that your tuberculosis has been cured, but I didn't quite believe it at first. Now you do look much better than before." As soon as the voice fell, he was already in front of her. His gaze swept over Song Yan and quickly landed on Luo Tianxuan.

His voice was warm and gentle.

Their conversation was quite intimate.

Song Yan also raised an eyebrow. Uncle?

Luo Tianxuan's uncle, wouldn't that be Luo Yuheng's brother?
Looking at his Taoist robe attire, could he be the legendary Prince Fu, who is elusive and, despite being of royal lineage, only seeks immortality and enlightenment?

Luo Tianxuan was also somewhat surprised. She stared at the man in front of her for a long time, as if the image of him gradually overlapped with her memory. Then she curtsied and said, "Tianxuan greets Uncle." Luo Tianxuan's tone was somewhat distant, but she did not miss the proper etiquette. "I remember the last time we met, Tianxuan was only nine years old. I have to thank Uncle Wang for finding the ginseng. Tianxuan was much better off during that time."

When he was nine years old, Prince Fu visited the Luo family.

The gift he brought was a box of old ginseng, all of which were quite old.

It is said that Luo Tianxuan is weak due to tuberculosis, and some ginseng can help to strengthen her spleen and lungs.

However, although ginseng is a good thing, it was of little use for tuberculosis, and the coughing up of blood only worsened. In the end, Luo Tianyang ate all the ginseng like a radish.

However, since Prince Fu was her uncle and ginseng was an expensive tonic, she couldn't be too blunt. Although Luo Tianxuan wasn't good at socializing, she wasn't completely ignorant of human relationships.

Prince Fu was overjoyed: "It's good that it's useful. It's good that it's useful. It's not in vain that I went through all this trouble. I spent half a year in the deep mountains and forests to find these old ginseng roots. I encountered a lot of mosquitoes, poisonous snakes, tigers, leopards and wolves."

"Anyway, it's good that you've recovered." Saying this, she then turned her gaze to Song Yan: "Is this your husband?"

Song Yan also stood up and bowed, saying, "Greetings, Your Highness Prince Fu."

Prince Fu looked him up and down and said, "He is a handsome young man, a good match for my girl. Alright, I have never been bound by etiquette, so there is no need for so many formalities."

Song Yan smiled but did not say anything.

Although the Prince of Fu before her seemed carefree and unpretentious, Song Yan wasn't so naive as to truly believe that was who he was. After all, Luo Caiyi's kidnapping had only just occurred, and the person behind it was very likely Prince Fu's wife, Kong Nianhan. As for whether this was Kong Nianhan's own private action or at Prince Fu's behest, that remained unknown.

Those in high positions will only show you the side they want you to see.

Just then, several patrolling soldiers were walking towards them. One was carrying firewood, another was holding two torches, and the third was carrying a grouse and a gray rabbit.

"My lord." The soldiers looked delighted. One of them waved the grouse in his hand, which had been cleaned, gutted, and gutted. "We got it while on patrol. My lord didn't eat much tonight. Would you like something to eat?"

Song Yan laughed heartily: "Alright."

"Make a fire."

Two soldiers quickly piled up dry firewood, spread leaves under the firewood, lit torches, and soon a bonfire was burning. Song Yan also found a pine branch, pierced the gray rabbit and grouse through the middle, and placed them on the fire.

Luo Tianxuan sat quietly on the rock, her hand supporting her chin, watching with a smile.

For some reason, she always felt that her husband was happiest when he was hanging out with these soldiers, and that his smile was the most comfortable.

"My lord, be careful, be careful! It's burning over here!" A soldier hurriedly reached for the grouse on the stick, not wanting to waste such a delicious dish.

Song Yan then raised a foot and casually kicked it: "Get lost. It tastes better when it's golden brown. Don't point fingers, or the chicken butt will be yours later."

"Hiss, my lord, what did you just sprinkle on that? It smells damn good."

"It smells good, but what do you mean by 'it smells fucking good'? You don't even need to use the 'father' part. Zhang Laosan, can't you speak properly? Be civilized, don't you understand?"

There was a lot of noise around the campfire.

Prince Fu also smiled and watched quietly.

He knew very well that these soldiers were the Japanese pirates recruited, managed and trained by Luo Tianshu and Luo Tianquan. They had only been brought out by Song Yan for a few days, yet they were already so familiar with each other.

There is a certain lack of rules.

The general lacked the majesty of a general, and the soldier lacked the subservience of a soldier.

They were less like generals and soldiers and more like a bunch of goofy buddies.

After an unknown amount of time, Prince Fu sighed softly, his expression slightly helpless. Some of his doubts had been answered: he understood that the soldiers under Song Yan's command were definitely not someone he could touch.

"Alright, seeing that you are all doing well puts my mind at ease. I have other matters to attend to, so I won't keep up with your nonsense any longer."

With a casual wave of his hand, Prince Fu got up and left. His time was precious, and he would never waste it on things that would not yield results.

They arrived abruptly and left casually.

It's as if they came all this way just to say hello.

It's surprising that such a thing happened to Prince Fu, since the legendary Prince Fu was known for his unrestrained and unconventional personality.

His carefree and unrestrained demeanor truly gave him the air of a reclusive sage.

Just then, Song Yan walked over with a roasted chicken wing in his hand: "What's going on?"

Luo Tianxuan frowned and shook her head: "I don't know... I hope nothing's wrong. At least just now, throughout the whole process, Prince Fu didn't show the slightest hostility."

Is there no hostility?
Perhaps, targeting Caiyi was truly Kong Nianhan's personal action? But what was the reason behind it?
Or perhaps, this man is able to perfectly control his own emotions?

If that's the case, then this Prince Fu is probably more troublesome than we imagined.

At least, he's not comparable to a piece of trash like Song Hongtao.

……

puff.

Haixi Snowfield.

The sound of a knife cutting into flesh.

A spurt of thick blood shot out, staining the surrounding ground crimson.

The blood melted the snow, then quickly froze in the cold, turning into scarlet ice crystals that shimmered under the moonlight, as beautiful as rubies.

With a forceful pull, his muscular arm retracted, and his body, now unsupported by the blade, collapsed to the ground. One hand remained pressed tightly against his chest, but to no avail; blood continued to gush from between his fingers, and soon the man lay lifeless on the ground.

All around...

Swords clashed. Warhorses neighed.

People were howling and roaring.

Wanyan Guangzhi was breathing heavily. After all, he was not Wanyan Guanghan, and fighting on the battlefield was not his forte.

My arm is burning with pain.

There, a wound about half a foot long had been cleaved open, the flesh turned inside out, burning with pain. Yet, for the warriors of the Haixi Snowfield, every wound, every scar, was an honor, a medal.

Looking around, the battle was nearing its end.

Licking his cracked lips, Wanyan Guangzhi noticed a warhorse in front of him, its master gone, pacing restlessly in circles. Suddenly, he grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth. In the next instant, he let out a howl like a jackal and pounced forward, severing half of the horse's head with a single stroke.

The warhorse's massive body collapsed to the ground, blood gushing high from its neck. Wanyan Guangzhi then leaned forward, opening his mouth and letting the blood spray onto his face and mouth, moistening his parched throat.

When the last enemy was taken down, there were no cheers on the battlefield, only the slicing sounds of iron blades cutting through flesh.

One by one, the warhorses were slaughtered.

The fresh horse meat had just been cut up and people couldn't wait to stuff it into their mouths, and for a moment the camp was filled with the sound of chewing.

Even Wanyan Guangzhi was no exception.

However, his movements were more refined compared to the others. After his stomach was full, Wanyan Guangzhi scooped up a handful of snow with both hands and washed his face briefly before standing up. He took a deep breath and said in a deep voice, "Eating is over. Everyone, take everything you can."

Swish.

It's like the pause button has been pressed.

The chewing sounds stopped abruptly.

The entire camp of six thousand strong barbarian warriors instantly stopped what they were doing, and without the slightest hesitation, spat out the horse meat in their mouths.

Six thousand people were all busy in this small tribe, scavenging for anything of value.

food.

Fine wine.

tent.

Animal hide.

Warhorse.

There were even corpses of their own kind who had died.

They would dismember the corpses beforehand, even skinning them, and take away only chunks and strips of scarlet flesh.

Wanyan Guangzhi watched all this indifferently, seemingly used to it all. Leaning against a cedar tree, Wanyan Guangzhi lowered his eyes, lost in thought. Only his hand rested on his heart; the wound, though long healed, still caused him occasional, piercing pain.

Amidst my wandering thoughts, it seemed as if I had returned to two months ago.

Wanyan Guanghan died in battle, and Mu Chi betrayed him.

The royal court was trampled upon by the Han army.

The princess was kidnapped.

For Wanyan Guangzhi, he lost both face and substance.

After he finally managed to kill Mu Chi, many of his clansmen who had lost their possessions, tents, and even relatives launched a protest against Wanyan Guangzhi. They condemned Wanyan Guangzhi for being too foolish; if he hadn't provoked the war with the Anchegu tribe and taken away most of the royal court's elite troops, how could the royal court have been trampled by the Han cavalry?

Some people are demanding that Wanyan Guangzhi voluntarily resign from his position as the Great Khan.

Even more extreme, some demanded that Wanyan Guangzhi commit suicide to atone for his sins.

At that time, Wanyan Guangzhi had just killed Mu Chi. He was panting heavily, blood was streaming from his chest, and he looked extremely weak, as if anyone could easily kill him.

He did not ask for forgiveness.

I didn't beg him to give me another chance.

He also did not mention any of the contributions he had made to the Wuji tribe.

He also did not order the thousand elite soldiers who had accompanied him back to the tribe to return.

I was just dragging my almost completely exhausted body...

Go all the way.

A trail of blood.

He walked up to the person who was shouting the loudest and asked him if he was going to kill him.
Wanyan Guangzhi vividly remembered how the man felt his scalp tingle from being stared at, yet still stubbornly insisted on saying yes for the sake of his so-called face. Then he grinned at the man and, amidst the man's cursing, chopped off his head with a single stroke.

The people in the royal court were probably shocked that he would dare to be so arrogant, and they immediately erupted in chaos. He, however, simply walked unhurriedly toward the second person. It was a burly man who pushed him onto the snow, straddled him, and grabbed a curved knife, trying to cleave his head open. He dodged, and the knife struck his shoulder. Then, he took the opportunity to disembowel the man.

Intestines and internal organs spilled all over his body.

Then he walked toward the third person.

They marched on, leaving a trail of blood and carnage.

At some point, the voices of resistance within the tribe grew fainter and fainter, until finally, there was a silence as still as ice crystals.

He is still the king.

It was extremely hot sweat.

His position is unshakeable.

Since then, the rules of the Wuji tribe have changed.

The original Wanyan Guangzhi, though the absolute ruler of the Wuji tribe of the Jurchen people, still used smiles and provisions to demonstrate his benevolence. But the current Wanyan Guangzhi is cold and cruel, as if it has seeped into his very bones. He no longer trusts anyone but himself—not even his sons, brothers, or women; he only trusts the knife in his hand.

He would not tolerate any dissent within the Wuji tribe. His word was the only law, and anyone who disobeyed him would be ruthlessly eliminated, along with their family and even friends.

He controlled the entire tribe with an iron fist.

He used hatred to win the loyalty of warriors.

As he stepped out of the royal tent, he was met by a dense mass of kneeling figures.

From this, Wanyan Guangzhi came to a conclusion.

Humans are inherently base.

You treat him well, and he takes advantage of you.

You put a knife to his neck, and he becomes a docile sheepdog.

Of course, if he wants to stay in this position, he must feed the tribe's warriors; otherwise, rebellion will still occur.

Wanyan Guangzhi's method was to rob.

Find a small tribe, kill them all, and then take everything of value.

Like now.

The battles they fought made these warriors even more valiant and ferocious; they were like a pack of wolves, leaving nothing but desolation in their wake. If his soldiers had been this brave and fierce just a few months ago, the war with Anchegu would never have been so brutal.

Whenever Wanyan Guangzhi saw these brave soldiers, one name would involuntarily come to mind:
Song Zhe!

(End of this chapter)