Chapter 21: Roaming the World with Sword in Hand (Part One)

Page (1/3)

In the second year of Tianbao, on a summer night in Chang’an, the city was filled with the restless chorus of insects. Seven-colored clouds descended upon Mount Zhongnan, and the divine deer cried out in the night—its ethereal call, like music from the heavens, lingered and floated into Chang’an.

In the palace, the Daoist Lady of Supreme Truth, Yang Yuhuan, gently played her zither, her fingers lightly plucking the strings. As the melody gradually found its rhythm, the surrounding palace maidens’ dances reached their graceful peak. The incense burner exuded a calming fragrance, soothing the weathered heart of a man of fifty-eight years.

The Emperor lay lazily on his couch, listening to the gentle music of silk and bamboo. His fingers tapped his knee in rhythm, savoring the familiar yet fresh notes Yang Yuhuan produced. It was as if an immortal companioned him, drinking celestial wine, partaking of heavenly dishes—a life lived in a dream of dwelling among immortals.

The music ceased, the dance ended. Li Longji opened his eyes and praised with a smile, his mood uplifted. He was about to dismiss the attendant eunuchs and palace maidens to have Yang Yuhuan, radiant and alluring, accompany him for the night, when a voice came from the doorway.

“Your Majesty, I, Gao Lishi, bring good news and seek an audience!”

Li Longji, already in good spirits from Yuhuan’s performance and intending to enjoy her company, was reluctant to be interrupted. Yet hearing Gao Lishi’s voice, and that it was good news, he allowed him to enter.

“Your Majesty, while sitting at home last night, I saw a flash of seven-colored clouds in the sky. Upon reflection, I realized it was above Mount Zhongnan. Soon after, I faintly heard the cry of a deer, also coming from that direction,” Gao Lishi reported respectfully, his words fervent.

“And what of it?” Li Longji asked, intrigued.

“Your Majesty, this is an omen for the prosperity of the dynasty and the nation. You should select an auspicious day to hunt on Mount Zhongnan, bring the divine deer back to Chang’an to ensure the blessing of the realm, and by consuming its meat, attain longevity and health.” Gao Lishi finished and knelt, bowing repeatedly.

Li Longji was delighted, his imperial countenance bright. “When is the auspicious day?”

“Your Majesty, I have calculated carefully—it will be in one month, on the ninth day of the ninth month.”

“Very well, it is granted!”

Meanwhile, at the Great Mercy Temple, atop the Giant Wild Goose Pagoda, the room was brightly lit by candles. Abbot Wushi was tidying the scripture chamber, accompanied by a young novice who hurried over to help.

“Master, let me help!” The little monk bustled about, having just finished cleaning a scripture, then grabbed the broom from Abbot Wushi’s hands.

“Master, please rest. Let me do it!” The novice, sweat streaming down his face, darted about, put down the broom, and helped his master lift the lantern.

“Little Jingxu, I am not old yet. I can work. Take a break—look at you, sweating so much.” Abbot Wushi patted the little monk’s head with a kindly smile.

“Brother Huigen said I should keep an eye on you, Master, since you’re always absent-minded,” Jingxu said earnestly, unwilling to let the master do any work.

“Hahaha…”

“Master, what are you laughing at?”

Page (2/3)

“I’m laughing at the little muddle-head following the old muddle-head and together making a muddle of things…”

“Master, you’re too much! I’m not a muddle-head, you are! And you’re super-sized…” Jingxu pouted in protest.

“All right, come, let’s go to the top of the pagoda together and listen to the sounds of this world.” With that, Abbot Wushi continued up the stairs.

Soon, the old and young monks sat atop the Giant Wild Goose Pagoda, facing the refreshing summer breeze, savoring the genuine feeling of being alive.

“Master, I think I hear something,” Jingxu tilted his ears, carefully listening to the wind ahead.

“You hear it too? That’s the cry of the deer.”

“Master, why would there be deer cries at night? Does it mean something?” Jingxu asked curiously.

“The deer calls, feeding on wild herbs.”

“Um, Master, isn’t that a poem by Cao Cao from the Three Kingdoms?” Jingxu wiped his cheek and recalled.

“No, that’s a line from the Book of Songs!” Abbot Wushi laughed and gently tapped Jingxu’s head.

“Oh…” Jingxu pursed his lips into a circle, trying hard to think.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master. It means that when observing things, you can’t look at only one side; you must also see the other. Everything has good and bad, every person has virtue and vice.” Jingxu’s clever eyes spun as he spoke. “But what does this have to do with tonight’s deer cry? I don’t understand.”

“There is no connection, and yet there is a connection,” Abbot Wushi replied with a smile.

“Why?”

“That direction is Mount Zhongnan, Mount Zhongnan…”

“What about Mount Zhongnan?”

“Nothing in particular. I just have a vague feeling something momentous will happen. Hopefully, nothing too serious.”

“Master, you still haven’t explained the connection.”

Page (3/3)

“Ahem, tonight the night breeze is cool…”

The next day, the sage Li Longji issued an edict to the realm: on the ninth day of the ninth month, there would be a grand hunt at Mount Zhongnan, to capture the divine deer. The whole empire rejoiced; a general amnesty was declared. On the streets of Chang’an, a young man carrying a chicken cage was overjoyed at the news and hurried to the gambling house in the market with his chicken.

The timeline rewinds: Wu Yueying had just left Jingzhou, journeying across mountains and rivers. She retrieved a compass from her warehouse, determined her direction, and alternated between riding and leading her horse through wild hills—a difficult trek.

At night, Wu Yueying made a bonfire in the woods and sat by the fire. The little lynx in her arms enjoyed her gentle caresses, occasionally pricking up its ears to listen to the surrounding sounds.

Since leaving Jingzhou, Wu Yueying had encountered no households along the way—only wild, remote lands, though plenty of wild animals. She passed the time practicing her marksmanship, especially with the sniper rifle. She found she couldn’t hit distant targets accurately, so she used the opportunity to improve her skills.

This world differed from the game world; the Barrett heavy sniper rifle’s immense recoil could knock a shooter off their feet. Wu Yueying had suffered from this, once tumbling into a stream, soaking her black military jacket and snow-capped hat.

To avoid tearing her clothes while traversing the forest, after experiencing the icy shock of falling into the stream, she changed back into her old conical hat and blue robes.

Letting the warmth of the fire envelop her, she lazily stretched out her hand to turn the skewered roast chicken, sprinkled salt from her pack onto its golden, juicy skin, and inhaled deeply. Happiness—there was a certain joy in hardship.

The little lynx seemed to smell the roast chicken, poked out its head, and meowed softly in the firelight, blinking its adorable eyes as if to say, “I really want some roast chicken, could you share a drumstick with me?”

Wu Yueying, seeing the lynx’s greedy look, smiled and tapped its head, gnawed the drumstick clean, and handed it the bone.

In the wild mountains and forests, with a bonfire, roast chicken, and the lynx for company, Wu Yueying enjoyed a free and comfortable existence. She tossed both chicken wings to the lynx, letting it gnaw them on the side, drank some boiled stream water, and continued eating her fragrant roast chicken.

After finishing, with the fire nearly out, she placed a bundle of yellow-green wild grass next to her horse and hung the large pot back on its saddle.

Entering the warehouse interface, she summoned a bunker, covering the horse and the bonfire together. Wu Yueying stretched, laid down a straw mat by the fire, and went to sleep.

This bunker, originally a disposable item in Song of War, was used to block enemy advances on the front lines and was typically the first target for artillery bombardment—once battle began, it was quickly blown to bits.

But here, it had become Wu Yueying’s mobile fortress, akin to an Eskimo’s igloo, the best shelter from wind and rain.

The night was restless; besides the wind, the rain joined the chorus.