The Little Demonic Cultivator in the Courtyard: Borrowing 100,000 Japanese Pirates to Heal

The Japanese soldiers were stunned by the attack.

Some people raised their guns and fired into the air, some took off their clothes and jumped into the river, and some knelt down and cried.

But the heavenly thunder didn't care about any of that. One lightning bolt after another caught up with those who were still running and turned them into charred remains.

The artillery position was struck by lightning, and the ammunition exploded together, blooming like red and black flowers in the field.

The tanks and armored vehicles were blasted to a stop in place, with blue smoke rising from their bodies, and the people inside were long since silent.

More than 30,000 people were lying on the riverbank in less than half an hour.

The souls of these Japanese devils were all absorbed by the Blood Ancestor.

The Blood Ancestor laughed heartily, then broke through the air and disappeared.

Xu Jiande was still lying on the ground, his body charred, but the demonic energy did not dissipate; instead, it spun faster and faster in the thunder and fire.

The dark red well in his dantian had dried up, as if it had been steamed dry.

But just as the last bolt of lightning struck him on the top of his head, a golden light suddenly appeared at the bottom of the dried-up well.

The moment the light appeared, it was like a spark igniting oil, instantly engulfing the entire body in flames.

Xu Jiande looked as if he had been torn to pieces and then pieced back together, his entire body crackling and popping incessantly. When the clouds dispersed and the thunder subsided, he was able to stand up.

He looked down at his hands, his palms shimmering with a faint golden light.

He felt that what was in his dantian was no longer water or qi, but a round, golden bead, like a sun that had melted and then solidified.

He slammed his hand on the ground, and within a radius of ten feet, all the Japanese soldiers who weren't quite dead immediately stopped breathing.

Xu Jiande didn't stop.

He stood up and rushed north.

The people on the party's side were dumbfounded. Some were gaping, some were laughing and crying, and some ran towards him shouting "God!"

Xu Jiande didn't have time to respond. He crossed the riverbank and finished off the Japanese soldiers who had been struck by lightning but were still alive, one by one.

His speed was so fast that he swept across the wilderness like a golden light. He didn't even need a knife; with a flick of his hand, demonic energy was like a blade, cutting through everything in its path.

Of the 70,000 Japanese soldiers who attacked Jiangcheng, not one made it back to the north bank by dawn.

They were all killed by Xu Jiande or blown up by lightning.

On the Great Xia side, from the Guodang command post in Jiangcheng to the moat along the river, countless people witnessed this scene.

Some people knelt down and kowtowed to the sky, while others raised their guns and fired them into the air, crying out, "God has opened his eyes!"

Even the soldiers who didn't usually believe in ghosts and gods stood there, their faces covered in tears.

They didn't know what was going on, only one thing: the heavens were angry and had struck down those beasts.

That night, the heavens of the Great Xia Dynasty opened their eyes.

After all, more than ten million Japanese soldiers were wiped out.

After the news spread, the morale of the Japanese troops completely collapsed.

From the north bank to the eastern front, hundreds of thousands of troops that were still advancing began to waver across the entire front.

Some troops set off that very night, running north like frightened livestock.

Some regiments set fire to supplies, and the officers left first with translators and maps.

Some soldiers threw their guns into the trenches, changed into civilian clothes, and mingled with the fleeing crowds.

But they can't escape.

Xu Jiande was like a golden god of war, chasing the fleeing soldiers all the way north.

He kills during the day, he kills at night, he kills when it rains, he kills when it's foggy.

He doesn't need rest or resupply.

Moreover, he can now kill dozens or even hundreds of people with a single strike; in addition, he can kill from a distance.

Xu Jiande was like a wind that never stopped, sweeping across the Jiangbei Plain for a whole month.

When Xu Jiande returned to Jiangcheng, there was no longer a single organized Japanese unit in Jiangbei.

The Japanese armed forces were thus completely disintegrated.

The Great Xia's resistance against Japan was thus completely victorious.

But that wasn't enough. Standing by the river, Xu Jiande looked at the newly piled-up pits in the fields on the north bank and decided to continue.

Xu Jiande then found a small boat that was still usable and went east along the river.

The boat was left behind by the fishermen. There were two leaks in the bottom of the boat, which he plugged with rags and mud, and it was barely able to move.

Xu Jiande sat at the stern, one hand on the rudder and the other hanging over the gunwale, his fingertips brushing across the water as if feeling the pulse of the river.

Once you leave the river mouth, the sea is right in front of you.

As the wind picked up, waves crashed one after another, and the small boat bobbed up and down like a leaf.

Xu Jiande ignored all of that. He dispersed the demonic energy into the bottom of the boat and gently supported it, and the boat immediately stabilized.

The sea was black, the sky was black, and only a few Japanese warships in the distance had their lights on, their pale light shimmering on the sea like floating bones.

He sailed for many days. Without a compass or a nautical chart, he relied solely on a golden pill and a mouthful of blood that could never be cooled.

He meditated on the boat, and when he was hungry, he would eat a bite of the dry food he had brought from the riverbank, and when he was thirsty, he would collect rainwater.

Twenty years later, Xu Jiande arrived in the land of cherry blossoms.

He abandoned his small boat on the beach and went ashore from a tiny fishing village.

The fishing village was quiet, with a few lanterns hanging under the eaves, swaying gently in the sea breeze.

An old fisherman huddled by the door. When he saw Xu Jiande, his eyes widened, and he mumbled something. Xu Jiande didn't say anything, but walked past his doorway like a shadow emerging from the sea mist.

From that day on, high-ranking officials in Japan began to die one after another.

First came several major generals. Some died in their official residences, the doors locked from the inside, their bodies lying in pools of blood, a thin gash on their necks.

Some died in the car on their way to the military headquarters, while the driver was still driving and the people in the back seat had already stopped breathing.

Next came lieutenant generals and generals.

Their deaths varied; some fell from high-rise buildings, while others turned blue overnight, as if something had drained their blood.

The entire Jiangdu was placed under martial law, with soldiers and guards everywhere, but it was all in vain.

The people they were looking for were like ghosts; they went in, killed them, and left. The blood on the ground hadn't even dried before they were already out of the city.

Xu Jiande didn't reason with them, nor did he leave his name.

All he knew was that these people were the ones who ordered the killing of the people of Great Xia, the ones who actually killed the people of Great Xia, and the ones who stood on those corpses to receive medals.

So they all had to die. Sometimes he killed one person a night, sometimes several.

For each kill, he would place a withered leaf he had brought from Great Xia on the opponent's table or on their chest.

Six months later, most of the high-ranking officials in Japan had died.

Those who were in charge were either killed or scared to death.

The military headquarters building was empty, and machine guns were set up outside the Heavenly Locust Palace day and night, but the guards even had to go to the toilet in groups.

By the tenth month, the entire nation's military and morale had completely collapsed.

Factories in the city shut down, warships in the harbor turned off their engines, and the remaining soldiers who had been withdrawn from the front lines huddled in their barracks, not daring to even step outside.

Some say the ghosts of the Great Xia have come. Others say they aren't ghosts, but rather the people they killed who have returned to claim their lives.

Xu Jiande left Japan on a rainy day.

The rain was heavy, washing away the blood on the street.

He stood on the dock, looking at the gray sea, before turning around and boarding an empty cargo ship, which headed west.

When I returned to Beijing, it was just dawn.

The shops in town hadn't opened yet, the streets were wet, and people carrying loads hurried past the alley entrances.

Xu Jiande stood beneath the archway of Nanluoguxiang, gazing at the rows of polished stone slabs. A breeze carried the scent of coal smoke and cooking fires. He stood there for a long time, as if trying to rediscover the place.

He walked to the entrance of that familiar courtyard house.

The door was ajar, and people were talking quietly in the courtyard. He heard He Daqing coughing, Jia Zhangshi smashing things by the stove, and a child running past in the alley.

He pushed the door open and went inside. The trees in the yard weren't completely withered yet, and a few pots of grass at the base of the wall were half-dead and green.

He saw that his house was gone, and the land was empty, with a few clumps of wild grass growing there, rustling in the wind.

Then he saw Bai Ling.

She was coming out of He Daqing's house, carrying a small basin of washed clothes.

Her hair was wrapped in a gray cloth, her face was very pale, and she had lost a lot of weight.

She looked up and saw him, frozen in place as if by some unseen force, still holding the basin in his hand, completely motionless. A gust of wind blew from behind her, lifting the hem of her dress before gently settling it back down.

Xu Jiande smiled at her.

Bai Ling smiled too.

The smile was brief, as brief as a dream.

But tears immediately began to fall. First one drop, then two, and then no matter how much she wiped them away, they wouldn't stop.

The basin slipped from her hands, and her clothes scattered all over the floor. She acted as if she hadn't seen them, and ran straight towards him.

Xu Jiande opened his arms.

Bai Ling threw herself into his arms, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, burying her face in his chest, as if she wanted to shed all the tears she hadn't cried in the past six months onto him. (The End)