Nightwatcher-Chapter 444: That’s it?

# 444. That's it?

Xu Qi’an’s words struck Peiman Xilou like a sudden flash of clarity, as though a stream of divine nectar had poured straight into his mind, opening up new avenues of thought.

Of the three northeastern nations, the capital of Jing is located furthest to the north, bordering what was once the territory of the northern Yao. If the elite iron cavalry of Jing had indeed been fully deployed, then their internal defences must be severely weakened.

This did indeed create an opening for a surprise attack. But to carry out a detour and strike at Jing’s capital, another key condition had to be met: siege weaponry.

Peiman Xilou had not considered this tactic before simply because the Yao and barbarian races lacked expertise in siege warfare. But the situation had changed. With the army of the Great Feng now involved—bringing with it artillery, repeating crossbows, and siege engines—it was no longer difficult to breach a capital city left vulnerable.

Looking at Xu Qi’an, Peiman Xilou spoke with rising excitement:

“This plan is feasible, but only if we seize the right moment. Jing must also be aware that their capital is poorly defended. They will be on guard. The armies of Kang and Yan have yet to mobilise. If I’m not mistaken, they are the very shield that emboldens Jing to go to total war.”

*Eh? So the plan won’t work after all...?* Xu Qi’an blinked, startled, before hearing Peiman Xilou continue:

“But if the Great Feng army were to divide into two forces—one to join us, the divine race, and the other to push forward from the northeast and engage the armies of Kang and Yan—then those two nations would be too preoccupied to reinforce Jing. They’d be forced to scale down the troops they’ve stationed there.

“The same logic applies to the Church of the Warlock God. Its headquarters lies in Mount Jing City. Will the high-ranked warlocks within prioritise defending their homeland against the invading Great Feng army, or stay in the capital and twiddle their thumbs? The answer is obvious.

“Only when the armies of Yan and Kang are too occupied to intervene, and the high-ranked warlocks are otherwise engaged, can we make our move on Jing’s capital. None of them can cross thousands of li in a short time to rescue Jing.

“At that point, when their capital is on the verge of falling, what will Jing’s iron cavalry do? Continue to rampage across the northern border, or rush back to defend their homeland?”

Peiman Xilou grew more and more exhilarated as he spoke, his mind already spinning with a follow-up strategy to counter Jing’s inevitable cavalry reinforcements.

He rose with solemn respect, clasped his hands, and said, “Young Master Xu, you are truly a grand master of military strategy. Your insight is piercing. I am deeply enlightened.”

*So that casual idea of mine… turned out to be this impressive? Could it be I’m a natural military genius?* Xu Qi’an stood there, dazed.

Peiman Xilou went on, “After dusk, I’ll hold a banquet at Tianxiang Pavilion in your honour. I hope you’ll attend, Young Master Xu.”

Xu Qi’an nodded. “Alright.”

He stood to escort the two Yao and barbarian guests out. Huang Xian’er, whether intentionally or not, swayed her hips with particular allure as she walked, each step sending ripples through her shapely curves.

*She’s a true beauty—gorgeous face, exquisite figure…* Xu Qi’an silently evaluated her with the eye of a seasoned brothel master.

…

In the imperial study, Emperor Yuanjing sat behind a desk draped in golden silk, a thick stack of memorials at his side.

He opened just one. It was from Wei Yuan.

Wei Yuan had long since been designated the Field Marshal of this campaign.

Not that the Great Feng lacked capable generals, but as they already had a legendary war god, why go to the trouble of finding someone else?

In his memorial, Wei Yuan laid out his strategic plan: to muster an army of 120,000. Twenty thousand would head north to join with the 50,000 soldiers stationed across the garrisons of Chuzhou. Together, these 70,000 would support the Yao and barbarian forces in resisting Jing’s elite iron cavalry.

The remaining 100,000 troops, led personally by Wei Yuan, would depart from the northeastern provinces and push directly into the heartlands of Kang and Yan, launching a surprise strike at Mount Jing City.

Naturally, these 100,000 would need to be drawn from various provinces. Of the capital’s three elite garrisons, at most 10,000 troops could be spared, and no more.

The capital had to be protected, after all.

Emperor Yuanjing stared silently at the memorial, unmoving for a long time. The tea in his cup cooled and was replaced, then cooled again, three times over. Finally, he picked up his brush and approved it in red ink.

The negotiations had barely concluded when the vast machinery of the imperial court sprang into motion. The Ministry of War and Wei Yuan began assembling troops; the Ministry of Revenue requisitioned supplies.

Most of the high officials in court had once participated in the Battle of Shanhai Pass. They were no strangers to warfare.

In fact, ever since intelligence from the northern front reached the capital, these figures had already begun their internal preparations.

The emperor opened a second memorial, this one from the Ministry of War. It listed the officers and their appointments. A cursory glance was all it took before he sneered:

“So it’s a pack of pampered young nobles trying to snatch easy merit from the campaign. Of course, anyone marching with Wei Yuan is practically guaranteed credit.”

Expressionless, he picked up his brush to write his approval, but suddenly paused.

“That cousin of Xu Qi’an, is he not a disciple of Zhang Shen? Specialised in military strategy, no?”

The old eunuch beside him bowed nervously. “This old servant… this servant no longer recalls.”

The emperor chuckled. “But I do. That settles it. He’s from Cloud Deer Academy, trained in strategy. I am a ruler who treasures talent; he shall have his chance to march with the army.

“Hah, and if he refuses, I’ll strip him of his position as a hanlin bachelor and banish him to some dusty backwater.”

With that, he added three characters to the list: _Xu Xinnian_.

…

In the Sitianjian.

The Jianzheng remained seated behind his wine table, turning his cup slowly, half-drunk and half-awake as he gazed out upon the mortal realm.

Footsteps approached from below. A man in an azure robe ascended the steps alone, wide sleeves swaying gently with his pace.

“You’re here.”

The Jianzheng’s old voice spoke with a smile.

“Before I head to war, I thought I’d come visit you, decrepit old man.”

Wei Yuan stepped up to stand beside him, looking out over the capital, a sea of splendour in bloom. He sighed, “You’ve watched it for five hundred years, don’t you find it dull?”

“Very!”

The Jianzheng nodded. “In five hundred years, those worthy of my notice are few. You, Wei Yuan, are one of them. Being forced into the palace was nothing. As a third-rank warrior, you could regrow lost limbs—restoring your manhood is easy.”

“Wei Yuan, do you know what’s the hardest thing to overcome in life? It’s yourself. Your whole life, you’ve been trapped by emotion. Pitiful. Regrettable. Admirable.

“Your self-destruction of your cultivation, from where I stand, was actually a chance to break and rebuild. Even if you didn’t acknowledge me as your master, as long as you held onto that martial heart, I could help you reach First Rank. There have been few First Rank warriors since time immemorial.

“But instead, you clung to that woman in the palace, wasted your gifts, squandered your years, and gave up your shot at the summit.”

Wei Yuan stood tall in the wind and smiled.

“Do you know why I never acknowledged you as my master? Because we are not the same. In this world, some chase immortality. Some crave wealth and power. Some strive for martial supremacy.

“But what I sought… was that young girl beneath the tree, smiling faintly as she picked a flower.”

The Jianzheng said nothing more. He lifted his gaze to the sky.

High above the mortal world—where even cultivators could not see—a distant star suddenly flared with brilliant light.

…

"Truly dazzling. In this era, Wei Yuan's natal star is among the brightest in the sky. He ought to shine even more brilliantly, but alas, he's been ensnared by love. What a pity."

On a distant mountain peak, a man in white stood at the summit, gazing up at the sky as he muttered to himself.

By his side was another man in purple robes, exuding noble grace. He wore a long beard, and the natural authority of one long accustomed to power clung to him.

"If we could bring Wei Yuan under our banner, what cause would we have to fear failure in our grand enterprise?"

The man in purple sighed. "Yuanjing is an emperor, yet he dreams of immortality. Such defiance of Heaven’s will—how could the Great Feng not be doomed?"

The man in white chuckled. "Don’t underestimate Yuanjing..."

He paused, then folded his hands behind his back. "Across the Great Feng and even all of Jiuzhou, only Wei Yuan has the ability to lead an army against the Warlock God's main temple. No one else is fit for the task. No one but him.

"That old relic, Saren Agu, he’s lived far too long. If Wei Yuan can kill him this time, it would be a cause for great celebration."

The purple-robed man glanced at the white-robed arcanist and slowly said, "Qian’er is dead, killed by Xu Qi’an. You arranged this, didn’t you?"

Still looking skyward, the white-robed man gave a faint laugh. "You mean Ji Qian? He learned little of substance and yet cultivated all the worst habits of a spoilt brat. Such a man could be emperor? Fit to inherit your legacy?

"I think it’s better he died. He was just an eyesore. Your successor must be someone who commands universal respect, who need only speak and be obeyed, who will leave his name etched in history. Ji Qian was not the one."

This chapter is updated by freēwēbnovel.com.

The man in purple gave no reply, nor did he object.

…

Southern Marches, the Heaven Gu Tribe.

The clouds in the Southern Marches were streaked with colour, laced with toxic mists and noxious miasma. The jungles were breathtakingly beautiful, yet death lurked within that beauty.

An eternity ago, the Gu God had fallen into slumber within the Abyss. Since then, the Southern Marches had become a haven for venomous creatures and fierce beasts.

But humankind, tenacious by nature, submitted to the environment, adapted to it, mastered it. Generation after generation, they survived and evolved—thus the shaman clans were born.

Among the many human tribes of the Southern Marches, the shaman clans were the most unique. They lived near the Abyss, coexisted with Gu insects, and harnessed the power of the Gu God to forge their own unique cultivation path: the Shaman Path!

On this day, another dreadful roar echoed from within the Abyss. A mindless bellow, as if from the depths of Hell itself, rippled out with a faint tremor in the earth.

Within several hundred li of the Rift, all Gu insects grew restless, as if faced with a mortal threat. In the thick jungle, they dropped from the leaves and branches, dying one after another.

Even the Gu used by the shamans turned wild, attacking their masters. Fortunately, the Gu clan had experienced such chaos once before. Though the response was rushed, they narrowly avoided disaster.

Longtu of the Strength Gu Tribe knocked out the rampaging insects and calmed the unrest. Looking north, he thought of his beloved daughter.

He wondered how Lina was faring in the Great Feng. She was so clever, surely she could thrive even there like a fish in water.

Dozens of li away, the Heaven Gu Grandma also gazed northward.

"The power of the Sage is waning. If the Warlock God breaks free... the Gu God will be next… ah, when will the martial path produce a being beyond ranks?"

Worry clouded her heart.

"Lina, you must keep the Sevenfold Gu safe…"

…

After dusk, Xu Qi’an arrived at Tianxiang Pavilion as agreed. Peiman Xilou and Huang Xian’er were already waiting outside the restaurant.

The three of them entered amid laughter and chatter, taking a private room to drink and dine.

Huang Xian’er had changed back into her native northern attire, baring her shapely, toned calves, a slender yet firm waist, and a full, proud bust.

Sitting at the table, she kept her back perfectly straight, the dimples of her lower back peeking out tantalisingly as she tried to seduce Xu Qi’an.

She knew she was as stunning as a celestial, but for a man like Silver Gong Xu, who was indifferent to women, maintaining the act of a refined Great Feng lady was hopeless.

So she gave up the façade and returned to her original persona, trying to entice him with the exotic allure of a northern beauty.

When it came to matters between a man and a woman, either he took the initiative or she did. And since Xu Qi’an refused to move, she decided there was no point in pretending anymore.

To her chagrin, Xu Qi’an seemed utterly immune to charm. Any other man would be reduced to a lovesick fool by now.

But not him. He showed not the slightest sign of being overwhelmed by passion.

She exchanged a glance with Peiman Xilou, who promptly said, “It’s late now, and the city is under curfew. Best we stay at the inn. I’ve already reserved a fine suite for you, Young Master Xu.”

“I’ll take Young Master Xu there,” Huang Xian’er added immediately.

The three of them left the private room. Huang Xian’er led Xu Qi’an towards the guest quarters and opened the door.

The room was luxuriously decorated. In the small parlour stood another table of wine and food.

Beyond the parlour was the bedroom.

Huang Xian’er turned and shut the door, smiling sweetly. “Young Master Xu, I didn’t get to drink my fill earlier. Will you join me for a few more cups?”

She glanced at Xu Qi’an, noticing his slight frown, but since he didn’t immediately refuse, her heart brightened. _He’s not rejecting, so there’s still a chance._

Now she just had to seize it.

She snuggled against his arm and brought him to the table to continue drinking.

“Young Master Xu, I’ve admired you for so long. To be able to drink with you like this, it must be the blessing of eight lifetimes…”

She raised her cup. The wine gave her eyes a hazy charm, her gaze rich with allure.

Xu Qi’an gave a reserved nod and was just about to lift his cup, when Huang Xian’er "accidentally" spilled wine onto her chest.

Her skin was smooth as jade. Under the candlelight, the wine shimmered on her body, casting a radiant glow across her curves.

Soaked by the wine, the scenery changed in an instant.

Xu Qi’an calmly looked away. One must not gaze upon that which should not be seen.

_A proper gentleman indeed…_ Huang Xian’er bit her lip and feigned a teary pout. “Oh no, what do I do? My clothes are all wet, Young Master Xu, won’t you help wipe it for me?”

“Don’t—don’t do that…” Xu Qi’an frowned.

“Please wipe it for your servant here~” she said, face tilted upwards, eyes shy and glistening.

The flush of wine tinted her cheeks pink. Her lips were a vivid red, her foxlike eyes so beguiling it made one’s heart itch.

“Alright.”

Suddenly, Xu Qi’an changed tone and reached out without warning.

Huang Xian’er was caught off guard. Her smile froze a little. She hadn’t expected him to switch gears so abruptly.

She stared blankly. “Young Master Xu?”

“Don’t speak. Open your mouth.”

…

The next morning.

Huang Xian’er left the room, her eyes puffy and her steps unsteady, one hand braced against the wall.

She moved carefully, her brow occasionally twitching.

At the far end of the corridor, Peiman Xilou emerged and eyed her bedraggled state. His silver hair swayed as he hesitated and said:

“Didn’t you agree that if you begged for mercy, you’d call him ‘granny’...? This is it?”

Huang Xian’er ground her teeth. “I was tricked…”

…

Xu Qi’an rode his beloved little mare through the early morning light, hoofbeats clip-clopping rhythmically on the street.

He felt fresh and relaxed, and sighed with heartfelt satisfaction: “Yao women really are a delight!”

…