Governing the country, enriching the people, an unparalleled imperial tutor

Lin Yanzhou held the megaphone to his mouth, his voice low but each word clear and distinct in the deathly silence below the city: "I just said that you must retreat within three days. This is my immortal art; today I can let you see the light, and tomorrow I can make you unable to see it. You'd better think it over carefully in these three days."

There was a deathly silence below the city; no one responded.

Lin Yanzhou changed his tone, his voice now carrying a hint of mockery and certainty: "What? This immortal will make a bet with you today—within three days, you bunch of bastards will definitely retreat. If you don't, I'll open the city gates and surrender automatically, and personally hand over this city of Jizhou to you, helping you to conquer the capital and rule the Central Plains. Do you dare to bet?"

Zhang Lin finally recovered from the shock of the light he had just witnessed, his face ashen as he sternly shouted, "Khans! Do not listen to this man's wicked words! This is merely a delaying tactic!"

"Only three days," Hu Yanlie suddenly spoke, his voice low but each word carrying the weight of Zhang Lin's impatience. "He said three days. Three days won't do us any harm."

Zhang Lin's face suddenly turned pale: "Khan Huyan..."

"My men have been traveling for four days, and the horses are panting. Let them rest for three days to regain their strength, so they'll have more energy when we attack the city." Huyan Lie turned his gaze from the city wall to Zhang Lin's face. "If he surrenders in three days, we'll save ourselves from casualties during the siege. If he doesn't surrender, it'll just delay the attack by three days."

Ashina Gule licked his chapped lips, his eyes still lingering with the terror he felt when the beam of light shone upon him, and squeezed out a single word: "Fine."

Yuwen Tuo remained silent, but turned his horse around and took a half-step back, his meaning quite clear.

At this moment, the three were wary of this strange immortal. The glowing artifact had already greatly intimidated them. If reinforcements arrived in three days, they would lead their troops to retreat. Zhang Lin had already offered up the supplies. They would take advantage of any opportunity, but they would never do anything that was not worth the loss. You, Zhang Lin, are nothing more than a subject who has lost his power.

Zhang Lin's knuckles turned white as he gripped the riding whip. He glanced around; the three Khans' gazes had already shifted away from him. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but no words came out. He raised his head and glanced at the black figure on the city wall—separated from him by a light he couldn't understand and a distance he couldn't cross.

Lin Yanzhou didn't look at him again. He put down the megaphone, turned around and walked down the city wall, without looking back at the silence of the 300,000 people below.

The soldiers on the city wall automatically parted to make way. No one spoke; all eyes were on him, drawn by a deep-seated awe, heavier than loyalty, deeper than fear. Some stared at his right hand, the one that had just gripped the flashlight, as if trying to find a lingering, divine warmth within it. Others whispered, repeating his earlier words—"Within three days, you will retreat."

As Lin Yanzhou descended the last step of the city wall, Zhou Chongyuan's low but still trembling voice came from behind him: "Grand Preceptor, just now on the city tower... my throat almost jumped out of my chest. That light, even standing three feet behind you, sent chills down my spine."

"That's right," Lin Yanzhou said without turning his head. "They're even more chilled."

When he returned to Zhao Lingxi's tent, she was still awake. Leaning against the pillows, her gaze was fixed on the tent flap, as if waiting for someone to return. When she saw Lin Yanzhou walk in, her gaze lingered on him for a moment, confirming that he was unharmed, before she turned her face away, as if trying to hide something.

"How is it outside the city?" she asked, her voice a little more steady than before, but the tension in her eyes had not completely faded.

"This immortal has taken care of it." Lin Yanzhou walked to the low table and sat down. "Moreover, they will withdraw their troops on their own within three days."

Zhao Lingxi remained silent for a moment, as if processing the weight of those words. Then she turned to look at him, her gaze filled with a complex expression: "Can you really do it?"

"When did this immortal ever say he couldn't do it?"

She stared at him for a few moments, then her lips curved slightly, as if she had breathed a sigh of relief, or perhaps she was laughing at his unwavering composure. She didn't press him about what the light was or how he had done it; she simply exhaled softly and loosened the edge of the military blanket she had been clutching for so long.

Lin Yanzhou sat down on the stool next to the low table, looked at her, and his tone suddenly relaxed a little: "By the way, what I said before I went out—if I settle things, you'll kiss me. Does that still stand?"

Zhao Lingxi's brows, which had just relaxed, furrowed again. A faint blush rose on her pale cheeks, spreading from her ears to her cheekbones, even tinging her neck with a thin pink hue. She wanted to say something, her lips moved, but in the end, she only managed to utter, "...Let's talk after you've really gotten rid of the 300,000 people outside the city. Besides, you've already seen it..."

"Okay." Lin Yanzhou leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes briefly, and said, "It'll be soon."

Outside the tent, dusk was slowly settling in. The northern wind swept across the city walls, carrying away the last rays of twilight and heading northeast towards the dense forests and mountains.

The five thousand Jurchen warhorses were galloping at full speed on the gravel path of the Polu volcano crater.