Volume One: The Hidden Dragon in the Abyss Chapter 117: The Origin

"Chen Ying is dead."

Wang Chuan and his companions had been staying at Yang Hao’s home for several days. It was that night, as he looked up at the moon hanging in the sky, that he suddenly broke the news.

"What happened to Uncle Chen?" Xu Wei asked, startled.

Wang Chuan let out a sigh, his expression remaining as composed as ever. Yet, when he reached for his tea, he forgot to remove the lid from the cup.

"Brother, it's alright," Xu Wei said, sitting beside him and gently taking his hand.

"Go to sleep now," Wang Chuan said.

It was very late.

Wisps of mist coiled around every blade of grass, weaving together until the frontier night grew even colder. The dull, heavy sound of drums had gradually faded, but the harrowing scenes of the battlefield were hard to shake from one's mind.

Everyone was backed into a corner with nowhere left to retreat. This day’s battle was, in every sense, a struggle for destiny.

The Barbarian army had always fought head-on, with direct and brutal force. According to the reports, they were attacking all four nations simultaneously. The fighting had raged for two days and two nights; the Barbarians seemed to have completely lost their senses.

Now, the defensive line of the Hua Kingdom had been breached, granting the enemy a path to strike deep into the heart of the realm. The Xia Kingdom was teetering on the brink of collapse. As for the other two nations, their fates remained unknown.

In the Yu Kingdom, Qi Hao stood his ground, refusing to retreat a single step. The city walls had collapsed long ago under repeated assaults, crumbling as easily as wooden blocks before such a formidable foe. Fortunately, sensing the danger, he had evacuated the civilians early on.

The Jin army was arrayed in six phalanxes. After Wang Chuan had come to provide reinforcements and subsequently departed with the Capital Guard, the Emperor—for reasons unknown—had sent additional troops from several provinces. Though each formation was now reduced to fewer than a thousand men, they stood as dense and orderly as a forest, refusing to yield an inch. Their overwhelming aura intimidated the entire battlefield. The black battle formations stood firm as rock, coldly watching the Barbarian army in the distance.

Faces and bodies were caked in mud and blood; weapons were gripped tightly. Everyone stood in silence, as if waiting for something.

...

When the news reached Lun City, Zhong Jie finally broke down, weeping bitterly for a long time, his voice filled with sorrow and righteous indignation.

"Father..."

Zhong Yuqing realized she could do nothing but sit by her father’s side, offering what comfort she could. Her dear friend had "faced a hail of arrows, choosing to die for the nation to preserve his honor." It was a tragedy that he had waited for reinforcements that never arrived.

Zhong Jie wiped away his tears, stood up, and gazed toward the north. "Only now do I understand the words of Lord Wang Chuan, and only now do I know the choice Chen Ying made. But it is too late."

Some things had already come to pass. They were beyond redemption.

"The virtuous are cautious even when favored; the foolish grow arrogant when granted grace. Enlightened monarchs reward those who offer counsel; dim-witted ones punish them. The kings of old built virtuous regimes by listening to the words of their people, commissioning musicians to recite admonitions, allowing officials to offer poems of critique without being deceived, heeding the words of merchants in the marketplace, discerning fortune from folk songs, evaluating officials at court, and listening to the praise and blame of the common folk on the roadside to rectify their errors."

Zhong Jie leaned against a pillar, his expression filled with pity. They had clearly corrected the course of the nation. Yet, the situation beyond their borders had deteriorated with such sudden, terrifying speed that the whole world was caught in panic and disarray. He had been too late; otherwise, he could have personally petitioned to march to Luo City for rescue.

"Back then, I beat that county magistrate, thinking that possessing martial skill was only enough to play the hero, and that one must study to truly save the world and relieve its suffering... to break the injustices of the world..." Zhong Jie sighed. "Later, I made my children study to understand reason and gain wisdom."

"But in truth, years ago, it was Chen Ying who convinced a high official to uphold justice. Though I was later appreciated by the upright scholars and reached where I am today, Chen Ying wanted to climb higher and go further so that he could deal with even greater villains. He waded into the filth, staining his own reputation. Yet, the evidence against the Prime Minister’s faction was collected by him and given to me personally. And I, all this time, have been like a mantis trying to stop a carriage; I changed nothing."

"Discipline in the court is lax, the treasury is empty, treacherous officials hold power, and corruption is rampant... The water of the Canglang River is clear, I can wash my ribbons; the water of the Canglang River is muddy, I can wash my feet."

Only today could he understand.

Many years ago, on that day, Chen Ying had been unable to beat the magistrate like his companion did. That sense of powerlessness made him clench his fists. Only then did he realize that if he wanted to change all of this, he had to become a ruler himself. So, he began to compromise slowly, marrying the daughter of a high official. Later, he rose through the ranks, becoming a trusted confidant of the Prime Minister’s faction. He endured humiliation, collecting evidence, waiting for someone who could change everything.

Waiting for the Emperor to awaken.

"A bosom friend afar brings a distant land near," Zhong Jie said, moved.

This was the parting poem Wang Chuan had given Chen Ying. It was written before Wang Chuan left Lun City. It seemed that only Lord Wang Chuan truly understood him. That was why, on that day, he had wept so profusely.

"Lord Wang Chuan also has a very famous saying: life is like crossing a river. Some are good at swimming, others at rowing, but regardless, reaching the other shore is what matters," Zhong Jie remarked with emotion. "Although I decided to abandon martial arts back then, I have practiced occasionally over the years, and the breaking of Shizhou was only possible due to my martial foundations. But Chen Ying chose his own path; he wanted others to fulfill him."

He died in a blaze of glory rather than being executed by the laws of the land as a corrupt official.

If that was the case, then he, too, would head north. While the Barbarian army was not yet firmly established and their supply lines were strained.

This time, he wanted to make the same choice—the choice his companion had made.

The next day, almost everyone in the world received the news: the Barbarian army had breached the borders.

...

"Yang Hao, you should go to Luo City as well. See if there is anything you can do to help. I hear that Chen Lingyan is going to retrieve her father’s body to bring it back to his hometown; see if you can assist her. Do not worry about your own safety; I will watch over you."

"Yes."

When Wang Chuan rose the next day, though he still looked somewhat unwell, his appetite and spirits were returning to normal. After receiving his orders, Yang Hao departed immediately.

The Jin Kingdom had barely held its ground. The Barbarians had suffered significant losses this time, but having occupied the Hua territory, they could now easily drive deep into the heart of the realm. The situation was dire.

"Perhaps I will truly regret not going to the northern frontier to help him," Wang Chuan sighed once more.