Chapter 821: Hoofbeats Disrupt the Morning Light
Guan Feibai wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, unsure whether it was from the heat or nervousness.
"Is this the refining of Cinnabar Pills?"
His voice had grown hoarse and very low, as he feared others might overhear.
Zhe Xiu couldn't see inside the hall either, but he had taken Cinnabar Pills before and knew their taste, so he nodded.
With his confirmation, Guan Feibai drew in a sharp breath.
In the northern snow plains, the most talked-about thing this past year had been the Cinnabar Pill. He naturally knew of this legendary divine medicine, said to revive the dead and regrow bones.
But he wasn't gasping in shock at this moment. Rather, he was confirming the truth of another rumor.
So the Cinnabar Pill really was refined by Chen Changsheng. Could it truly be made with his own blood?
Half a year ago, an elder uncle from the Li Mountain Sword Hall had fought a bloody battle with the Twenty-One Demon Generals outside the Black Mountain Military Headquarters. He returned with a severed arm, bleeding profusely, and even the Holy Light Technique had lost its effect. In that final critical moment, he had been revived solely by a single Cinnabar Pill.
Thinking of this, Guan Feibai truly didn't know how to face Chen Changsheng anymore.
...
...
The rear hall's door finally opened, and a wave of heat surged out. The green leaves on the pear tree rustled and fell as if it were the height of summer.
Nan Ke supported Chen Changsheng as he emerged from within. His face was somewhat pale, like someone just recovering from a serious illness.
The Archbishop of Wenshui quickly stepped forward to greet him.
Chen Changsheng handed him the small porcelain bottle in his hand.
Inside the small porcelain bottle was, naturally, the incomparably precious Cinnabar Pill.
Over the past year and more, Chen Changsheng had provided a bottle of Cinnabar Pills to the soldiers on the front lines every month.
His blood was limited.
By schedule, this month's Cinnabar Pills should have been refined and distributed more than ten days ago. But he had been severely wounded by the Demon Lord on the Snow Ridge, losing a great deal of blood, and had been recuperating at the Banya Horse Ranch ever since—there was simply no way he could have done it.
He had never said anything about it, but he was actually somewhat anxious. He knew that at Yonglan Pass, Yongxue Pass, at Congzhou, at Black Mountain, and in many other places, countless severely wounded soldiers were waiting for the Cinnabar Pill to appear. Those people were the ones truly desperate.
So when he left Hanqiu City, he had secretly sent word to Wenshui, instructing the local Daoist temple to prepare the necessary medicinal ingredients. Upon arriving in Wenshui today, disregarding the fact that his injuries hadn't fully healed, he immediately began refining the medicine.
Now that this bottle of Cinnabar Pills was finally finished, the next step was naturally to send it to the military headquarters at the front.
In the earliest days, this task had been handled by the Yinghua Hall of the State Church, and later it was passed to the Tang family. Now that he was in Wenshui, he had no intention of continuing to entrust it to the Tang family. Everything that had happened that night on the Snow Ridge had been instigated by the Tang family, and they clearly didn't care about the goodwill he had tried to extend through the Cinnabar Pills.
Chen Changsheng said, "Send someone to Hanqiu City overnight. Find the person in charge of the Huaiyuan Academy. They know how to distribute it."
Silence fell. The Archbishop didn't respond, nor did he reach out to take the small porcelain bottle.
It wasn't that he dared to defy the imperial decree or was weighing the pros and cons. He was simply too shocked.
This statement contained several crucial pieces of information, one of which would surely shake the entire continent.
Wang Po had returned to Tianliang County.
Whether or not he himself had come back, since the Huaiyuan Academy had arrived, it meant he had arrived.
Everyone knew that the Huaiyuan Academy was Wang Po.
But what truly shocked the Archbishop wasn't this news—it was the small porcelain bottle itself.
Sending someone overnight to Hanqiu City left plenty of room for manipulation, if he so desired.
The Archbishop's face shifted constantly, flushing red then turning pale, before finally settling into calm.
He reached out and took the small porcelain bottle, without the slightest tremor.
"I will not fail His Majesty's trust."
...
...
Zhe Xiu looked at Chen Changsheng's paper-white face and said, "Blood can regenerate on its own, but doing this over a long period will greatly affect your cultivation."
Chen Changsheng replied, "I consume many spiritual fruits and ground ginseng every day. The problem shouldn't be too severe."
Zhe Xiu said, "If you want to become a Saint, it will be a major problem."
Chen Changsheng was silent for a moment, not responding.
Zhe Xiu stared into his eyes and said, "Didn't she stop you?"
Chen Changsheng knew he wasn't referring to Xu Yourong or the owner of that letter, but to the Little Black Dragon.
Thinking back to their fierce argument at the very beginning, he smiled.
Zhe Xiu said, "Compared to saving those people, your own strength is more important to this world."
Chen Changsheng let his gaze linger on the pear blossoms outside the door for a moment, then said, "I understand that reasoning, but... if I had never thought of this matter in the first place, it would be one thing. But now that I clearly know I can save dozens of lives every month just by shedding some blood, not doing so is truly difficult."
Guan Feibai, who had been silent all along, said, "That makes sense. If it were me, I'd find it hard too."
Zhe Xiu had grown up on the harsh, brutal plains of the north and couldn't understand the mindset of these disciples from prestigious southern sects. He shook his head and said no more.
"Earlier, while you were refining the medicine, the Daoist temple announced your arrival to Wenshui."
Guan Feibai looked at Chen Changsheng and said, "What I don't understand is, even if you reveal your identity and the Tang family no longer dares to touch you, what can you do to rescue Tang Tang? Even if you visit in person, if they refuse to let you see him, what then? Even the Pope can't force his way into an ancestral hall."
"I don't know either. Let's see how things go tomorrow."
Chen Changsheng glanced at the night sky, dotted with countless stars. Tomorrow should be a clear day.
The days were warm and sunny, but the nights were windy. The winter wind, sweeping down from the northern mountains, followed the Wenshui River into the city and lingered around the Daoist temple.
The pear tree swayed gently, green leaves falling once more. It looked somewhat desolate, as if heralding a possible change in the weather.
...
...
The next morning, the change came.
It wasn't a sudden flurry of snow, nor a gust of wind that blurred one's vision. Instead, it was countless peals of thunder.
Hoofbeats like thunder shattered the morning light. The earth trembled, the plains grew restless. Alarm bells rang out in Wenshui City. The city gates, which hadn't been closed in centuries, shut with unimaginable speed.
On the city walls, all kinds of defensive divine crossbows swiveled, aiming at the northern plains. Countless murderous, powerful auras spread outward, indicating that within the gates, atop the walls, and even underground, countless formations had begun to activate.
Just from the number of defensive crossbows, the density of the formations, and the flying chariots that shot into the air, it was clear that Wenshui City's defensive capabilities were extraordinarily strong, far exceeding normal regulations, and even rivaling Luoyang City.
What was even more chilling was that whether it was the soldiers at the gates, the quicker-to-react Tang family guards, or the most ordinary merchants and peddlers, though their faces turned pale with fright at the thunderous hoofbeats in the distance, they didn't panic. They followed the order and retreated back into the city with remarkable speed.
Clearly, over countless years, though Wenshui City had never faced the calamity of war, it had never forgotten how to fight.
Setting aside the unfathomable depths of the Tang family's heritage, just this fortified city and these well-trained soldiers and civilians meant that any attacker would pay an extremely heavy price. Even the most brutal, bloodthirsty demon wolf cavalry wouldn't dare charge straight in on impulse. They would surely halt beyond the range of those hundreds of divine crossbows.
And indeed, the thunderous hoofbeats gradually ceased. That black tide came to a stop on the plains a thousand zhang away.