Inside his war chariots was oil. Chai Xijin, skilled in the art of hidden weapons, planned to drive these steel chariots into the imperial guards that Yang Guihua had arrayed for observation, then ignite the oil to reduce them to ashes.
The Central Plains Sword Assembly was shifting formations. Earlier, they had attempted to flee, and the infantry division was about to intervene. The situation had been unfolding exactly as he anticipated. As long as the two sides clashed in close combat, heavy casualties were inevitable—it mattered little to him which side suffered more.
But the sudden appearance of Tang Licheng had reignited the Sword Assembly’s hatred. Their panic turned into a fight to the death, all because of two sentences Tang Licheng uttered:
"Between heaven and earth, in the realms of mortals and immortals, only I, Tang, reign supreme. Life or death matters not."
"I shall return to the House of Romance first. If you fail to slaughter every last one here, do not dare show your face to me."
From then on, the tide turned. The infantry division halted to observe, while he found himself besieged by the overwhelming hatred of the Central Plains Sword Assembly.
Young Master Tang would always be Young Master Tang.
If Chai Xijin possessed such intellect and presence, such cruelty that wounded both himself and others, perhaps Chai Xijin would not have lived, and Fang Pingzhai would not have had to die. Gripping the drumsticks tightly, he sighed and commanded, "Set the fire and charge."
The woman in red was Wang Lingze’s trusted disciple, a spider maiden who bred venomous spiders. Among the thousands of soldiers on the battlefield, three commanders were under her control. It was her relentless release of toxins that caused those afflicted by the "Three Slumbers Sleepless Sky" to swing between joy and rage, madness and frenzy, complementing Chai Xijin’s sound-killing drums to dominate the vast battlefield.
But as the battle with the Sword Assembly intensified, Chai Xijin’s sonic attacks proved no match for Fu Zhumei’s singing, and the battle was slipping out of control. Hearing Chai Xijin’s order to charge, the spider maiden was delighted and immediately scattered the frenzy-inducing scales of poisonous butterflies, driving the chariot-pulling soldiers into a mad dash forward.
The splattering blood further enraged the soldiers under the influence of "Three Slumbers Sleepless Sky," who drove their chariots straight into the surging ranks of the Sword Assembly. Some leaped from the ground, heedless of danger, and clung to Sword Assembly disciples poisoned by the "Nine Hearts Pill," biting their necks and tearing at their flesh. The attacked disciples wailed in agony, rolling on the ground, while riderless warhorses bolted wildly, trampling countless underfoot. The scene was one of utter carnage.
Cheng Yunpao swung his sword to rescue others, Meng Qinglei shouted urgent warnings, Dong Hubi raced across the field, and Fu Zhumei struggled to save both people and horses. The Sword Assembly, having just rallied their momentum to charge at Chai Xijin’s chariots, found their formation shattered by the sudden frenzy of their opponents.
"Boom—" "Boom—" "Boom—"
A series of deafening explosions erupted as several chariots, driven by the frenzied mob, burst into flames upon crashing into the Sword Assembly’s ranks. The chariots were laden with silver scales and black oil, substances that ignited upon contact and were nearly impossible to extinguish. Casualties mounted around the exploding, burning chariots, blood charring under the toxic flames. Many writhed and moaned on the ground, indistinguishable as friend or foe. Cheng Yunpao, moved by pity, reached out to help one, only to be bitten on the wrist, blood streaming instantly.
Chai Xijin watched the battlefield descend into chaos, a scene straight from hell, yet felt no satisfaction in vengeance. The imperial troops had slaughtered his kin at Baiyun Valley, and now he was sending the court’s soldiers to their deaths—it was simply how things should be, detached from his own emotions. As the chariots, trailing poison and fire, charged forward, his own chariot followed closely behind, heading straight for the forces led by Yang Guihua.Yang Guihua was solely responsible for protecting the princess and did not participate in the battle at Floating Eyebrow Manor. However, when Chai Xijin charged toward him in a carriage, Yang hesitated briefly before ordering, "Protect the princess!"
The Eight Hundred Infantry Division formed their battle array, resembling a coiling dragon with head and tail connected, encircling Hong Guniang and her companions. The infantry's dragon formation rotated slowly, with outer soldiers engaging the frenzied Xiang Army troops briefly before retreating. Armed with long weapons and maintaining tight formation, they temporarily prevented the maddened Xiang Army from breaking through.
At this moment, new string music emerged from the forest. Liu Yan plucked the strings again, this time with Yu Tuan'er standing behind him, pressing her hands against his major acupoints on his back, channeling her meager inner energy to him. With true power in his fingers, the music transformed, each note seeming to pierce directly into the soul.
Fu Zhumei had just reined in a horse with his left hand while scooping up a person with his right. After securing the person on the horse, he turned to see Liu Yan plucking the strings.
This was a new composition—one he hadn't heard before and couldn't accompany with song.
The new sonic attack enveloped the entire field. Both Yu Tuan'er and Liu Yan grew pale; neither could sustain such intense energy exertion. Yet before them lay a scene of corpses strewn across the battlefield, burning in flames—a living hell on earth. This world wasn't Liu Yan's world, but he knew with bone-deep certainty that the people here were no different from those in that other world.
Why must the world suffer so?
Only the lowly, only the revered.
Only like grains of sand.
"I am calamity, I am shackles, I am both demon and karma. Half my life wasted, watching worldly glory. I hold the world's evils, wading through rivers of blood, witnessing sorrow-filled eyes watching struggles, moans, and wails of the dying; I go to duckweed's end, awaiting death's flowers, waiting for heaven and earth to collapse into ruin, destruction, disappearance... Yet as these flowers bloom, others wither—mortals always overcome me. I cannot explain, knowing not life from death, as heaven and earth turn cold then hot, right then wrong... Who loves me, who hates me, who killed me—"
Liu Yan sang with abandon. Even Hong Guniang had never heard him so unrestrained. Lord Liu was always icy—exquisitely eerie, inscrutable—even when singing to his qin, it was dark and subdued.
But now Liu Yan played wildly, his fingernails splitting on the strings. His song surged violently, his voice soaring to the heavens, amplified by inner energy—utterly rampant, gloomy, and murderous, every word bewitching. Each listener trembled, recalling Liu Yan's years leading the Fengliu Shop in wickedness. His cold, disdainful slaughter of innocents, his unleashing of the Nine Hearts Pill's poison upon the martial world—how many naive young girls had joined the Fengliu Shop, enslaved by dark arts and toxins, ruining their lives forever?
Liu Yan's evil was real—not illusion, nor unavoidable.
From all directions, venomous gazes turned toward him.
Even the poisoned madmen writhing on the ground, foaming at the mouth, grew slightly quieter, their eyes gleaming with malice as they looked at Liu Yan.
Liu Yan's fingers paused briefly on the strings. He asked Yu Tuan'er behind him, "Are you afraid?"
Yu Tuan'er didn't know what he intended, but whatever it was, she found nothing wrong with it.
"I'm not afraid to die," she said through gritted teeth, channeling every bit of her inner energy into Liu Yan, regretting only that she hadn't trained harder to develop earth-shaking power.
I'm not afraid to die.
Liu Yan trembled slightly. This simple-minded girl was never clever, yet she always... could see the truth.With a sharp crack, Liu Yan whipped his horse, urging the black steed to carry both him and Yu Tuan'er toward Chai Xijin's war chariot.
He used too much force—the black horse reared wildly before charging headlong into Chai Xijin's chariot.
Liu Yan remained mounted, his posture steady against the horse's neck as it bucked and surged.
Once again, the sound of his qin and song filled the air.
"I am calamity, I am shackles, I am both demon and karma. Half my life spent in ruin, watching the world's glory. I hold the world's malice, treading rivers of blood, witnessing sorrow, struggle, moans, and the wails of the dead..."
For the first time, Chai Xijin experienced Liu Yan's full-powered sonic assault. His chest heaved violently, and his once-empty mind was suddenly flooded with emotions—self-loathing, anguish, icy despair. He touched upon hatred... a hatred both similar and different from his own, equally hollow and maddening.
Because it was unbearable, he sought to inflict suffering upon others.
Yet the ruin and torment of others did nothing to make his own pain more endurable.
This was not vengeance—this was damnation.
Master.
You and I, master and disciple... truly understand each other.
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