Chapter Sixty-Three: The Army Blocked

“Awooo…”

Shangguan Chuanyun sensed a disturbance in his spiritual core and hurried back inside. No sooner had he sat down than a heartrending wolf’s howl echoed from outside. Casting out his divine sense, he saw Jia Cheng wielding a steel whip, relentlessly chasing after Kuimu Wolf, who bore the head of a wolf and the body of a man. Though Kuimu Wolf’s hide was thick and the whip could not truly wound him, the blows still stung; he clutched his head and dashed frantically about the courtyard.

Jia Cheng, having just finished assigning tasks, had spotted a wolf-headed man wandering outside. Mistaking him for Big Grey Wolf on the loose, he wasted no words, raised his steel whip, and struck at the wolf’s head.

“I’m one of you! You’re beating the wrong person! I’m on your side!” Kuimu Wolf shouted as he ran, clutching his head.

Although he was a demon in the form of a great wolf with formidable magic, he dared not retaliate. Who knew what connection this man had to the master? If he fought back, he might well be skinned alive.

The commotion brought the others running. They saw Jia Cheng chasing Big Grey Wolf, who cowered and scrambled about, and quickly drew their weapons, hemming the wolf into a corner.

Jia Cheng addressed them, “I don’t know when this fellow managed to sneak out. Let’s catch him first.”

Now truly anxious, the big grey wolf saw them coming at him, weapons raised, yet dared not resist. Though his hide was tough, the blows still hurt. He quickly pleaded, “Wait, wait! I’m really one of you. I’ve already acknowledged the young master as my lord. He told me to find Jia Cheng and await orders. He even gave me a name—Kuimu Wolf.”

Jia Cheng paused, considering the possibility. After all, even Wild Dog had been named by the young master—Lou Jin Dog. Naming the big grey wolf Kuimu Wolf did fit the young master’s style. Still, he hesitated, when Commander Wu at his side suggested, “Why not string him up first and wait for the young master to decide?”

Jia Cheng nodded in agreement. “Fine, let’s string him up for now.”

“Awooo…” Big Grey Wolf whimpered, shrinking into the corner, eyes darting left and right. Commander Wu leveled his blade at him and warned, “You’d best not try anything, or you’ll regret it.”

Now, with his spirit and vigor restored by Hu Jiuming’s soul-shattering sacrifice, Commander Wu radiated a martial aura, looking every bit the master cultivator. Intimidated, Kuimu Wolf shrank further and quickly replied, “All right, all right, I won’t move.”

The group moved in, binding him tightly with ropes and hoisting him up a two-zhang tall flagpole in the courtyard of the Mountain God’s temple. Kuimu Wolf could have wept for his misfortune—wherever he went, he was either beaten or tied up; this time, they’d even hung him up.

Shangguan Chuanyun watched the scene from within—Kuimu Wolf, hands bound, dangling from the pole—shook his head with a smile and left him be. Kuimu Wolf’s hide was tough; these plateau wolves were massive, omnivorous but not particularly vicious, just a bit slow-witted—hence the nickname “Big Dumb Wolf.” When hungry enough, they’d even gnaw on vegetable roots.

Despite their lack of savagery, they were spiritually attuned, and their so-called stupidity was only in comparison to human intelligence. In truth, some were as clever as seven- or eight-year-old children.

Suppressing his thoughts, Shangguan Chuanyun focused his mind, immersing himself in his spiritual core. The Armillary Sphere within shone a little brighter than before, the gray mist much diminished.

Yet, the paths of Heaven, Earth, and Man within the sphere remained dark, only the Gouchen Palace—the seat of the Four Sovereigns—glowed a little more. The twelve zodiac palaces were as before; the Purple Star remained unseen, the Northern Dipper dim, the nine stars unlit. Countless gray points filled the void—one cluster followed the constellations, but the rest were still disordered, the stars unbalanced.

Shangguan Chuanyun intoned quietly:

“Heavenly Lord of Spiritual Treasures, calm the myriad stars.
Let the stars return to their places, encircling the Northern Dipper.
Azure Dragon and White Tiger, stand ready at my side.
Vermilion Bird and Black Tortoise, guard my truth.”

As the incantation ended, the gray points arranged themselves into the constellations, all stars save those of the Northern and Southern Dipper encircling the void. The celestial hosts illuminated the great expanse.

This time, the arrangement was tidier. Examining the Western White Tiger’s cluster, he noted that the star preceding Lou Jin Dog—Kuimu Wolf—was now bright as well, and he nodded in satisfaction.

Since contacting Daoist Ren on Mount Dongyue and setting a shared goal, the Armillary Sphere had begun to respond. The northern Gouchen Palace had aligned, and as the chief of nature’s thunders, it governed life and death; Daoist Ren, too, had attained the Dao through thunder magic. The resonance was clear: the Armillary Sphere mirrored the world, encompassing all, and responded to the flow of fate.

He had many conjectures now—stars of Wuqu and Po Jun among the Northern Dipper, the stars Kui and Lou among the Western constellations, all aligning with Kuimu Wolf and Lou Jin Dog. That was why he had named them thus. Though their natures aligned, whether their destinies would truly respond to the name remained to be seen. He wanted to observe whether they could sense the world’s fate through these names.

In his previous life, he’d never have dared use such names—invoking them would offend the stars, and disaster would befall within three days. But with proper rites and sacrifices, one could harmonize with the stars.

He gazed at the core of the Armillary Sphere—no doubt formed when his flying sword entered in his past life—like a pointer ruling the eight directions and the four quarters.

He still did not know its name, but surmised it was of great importance. If he could truly comprehend it, he would grasp the true Armillary Sphere.

He then examined his own vitality—now lively and unimpeded, perhaps a sign of burgeoning fortune, though he could not be sure without testing. He settled his mind and entered a meditative state.

…

Meanwhile, at the mouth of Dongting Lake, countless warships lay anchored in a zone shrouded by thick, dividing mist, crowding the entire entrance.

A vast fog blanketed the lake—one could not see a hand before one’s face. Even with torches lit, nothing could be seen beyond a single pace; only the heat could be felt in the air.

This was the encampment of the Divine Wind Battalion—ten thousand men under the command of Marquis Wu’an. Since arriving that afternoon, they had sent out many scouts into the mist, but none had returned. Though the ships could be chained together, they still feared fire attacks and could only wait.

Though speed is prized in war, they had been stalled here for nearly six hours. Atop a massive thirty-zhang-long black warship, countless torches blazed, illuminating the deck.

Nearly a hundred armored guards stood on deck, clad in scaled armor, their physiques robust, their eyes sharp—a company of elite warriors. Their attire matched that of Commander Wu’s ten men, these being the personal guards of Marquis Wu’an. They numbered fewer than three hundred, but each could face ten ordinary men.

Such was the fruit of Wu’an’s years of command. Runners moved back and forth, delivering orders or relaying intelligence from elsewhere.

In the ship’s war council chamber, Marquis Wu’an, Shen, sat imposingly at the head, his golden armor bright. Beneath him, men in golden and silver armor sat in orderly ranks, all silent, the atmosphere tense.

Marquis Wang Jin of Wu’an looked over his generals, coughed, and spoke: “What do you all make of this strange mist halting our advance at Dongting Lake?”

A silver-armored general stepped forward. “There is something uncanny about this, my lord. The mist rose less than an hour before our arrival at the lake’s mouth. I suspect the lake itself has changed.”

“Mm,” the marquis replied, glancing at the general—Yang Ben, the vanguard for this campaign.

Then a soldier in black leather armor stood and reported, “My lord, three hundred scouts have entered the mist, but only five have returned. From their accounts, though the fog is thick and directionless, there seems to be no mortal danger. Occasionally, water ghosts try to drag men down, but our scouts dispatched them. More troubling is that their Northern Dipper compasses do not work. I suspect some sorcerer is at work here.”

Marquis Wu’an nodded. Even their compasses had lost their bearings—magnetism, he mused, recalling that it was his fourth son who had first spoken of such things. He could not help but smile wryly at how the boy’s odd ideas had influenced him.

A burly general, seeing the marquis’s expression relax, stood and boomed, “My lord, if you have a plan, give the order and I will see it done, no matter what.”

The marquis was startled from his thoughts by the man’s booming voice. He had only been pondering the term, not devising a solution.

This sturdy fellow was Niu Ben, hot-tempered but meticulous in duty, and responsible for the left flank of the army.

He wondered, if his son—so fond of eccentric ideas—were here, what would he do?

Marquis Wu’an fell into deep thought, analyzing his fourth son’s unusual approach.

The officers below watched him, holding their breath, not daring to interrupt.

Following his son’s peculiar logic, he considered: Poison the mist? Impossible—there was not enough poison, and it would be inhumane.

Set up his own formation? Also unfeasible—where would he find enough sorcerers so quickly?

Suddenly, an idea struck—take a detour. Abandon the ships and march by the official road into the southern province.

“No butcher? Still have to eat the pig with bristles, then.”

Though the waters of Dongting Lake accounted for nearly half the southern province’s network, in truth, they made up only a tenth; the rest were tributaries. Collectively, they fell under the lake’s domain.

He was now certain that not all the waters could be covered by the fog. Only the Dragon King of Dongting Lake could be behind this—no one else had such power. If he could shroud the entire lake, there would be no need for these annual tricks.

If he sought a son-in-law, he would have to invite guests—clearly, he was seeking a promising young hero, searching for a hidden dragon.

Fine then, I’ll go and wipe out the lairs of all your suitors—let’s see how you respond.

The plan delighted him; inwardly, he laughed—what a cunning boy.

Meanwhile, deep in meditation, Shangguan Chuanyun suddenly sensed a distant thought fixed on him and awoke. He drew out the linked coin of parent and child, examining it and sensing quietly—everything was well.