Chapter 733 (1): The Bashu of Today

The following morning, Zhao Changhe mounted Snow-Treading Crow and, alongside Yue Hongling, bid farewell to Sisi before heading north to Bashu.

Sisi did not accompany them far. She stopped at the northern edge of Erhai, unwilling to go further. This time, the farewell was not private but an official ceremony. Behind her stood the entire court of Dali, along with ceremonial guards and officials, sending off King Zhao in an official capacity.

As Zhao Changhe turned back for a final glance, he saw a sea of people standing solemnly on the grassland by the shore. The officials remained in their positions, hands clasped in formal bows, but Sisi stood apart, her figure quiet and unmoving, her gaze fixed on him. Amid the sea of bowed heads, she stood out like a crane among chickens.

The vast army, the sweeping coastline, the expanse of Erhai—all of it faded into the background. Only the girl’s tear-brimmed eyes remained, filled with an affection as deep as the ocean.

No one could reconcile the solemnity of this farewell with the playful seductiveness she had shown the night before.

She had been the first to willingly share him with another. Though it was said that Miao women were less reserved than Han women, it was clear that her actions reflected a love that ran bone-deep. Their time together was always fleeting. After their last parting, it had taken six months to meet again. Even this so-called long stay in Miaojiang amounted to less than seven days, most of which she had spent managing affairs. They had barely seen each other, and the so-called wild moments, including last night, totaled only two evenings.

With gods and demons emerging, and the world in turmoil, there was no telling when, or if, they would meet again. A misstep could easily mean farewell forever.

When will we meet again in longing? This moment, this night, is hard to bear.

Even Yue Hongling understood this, which was why she had been willing to indulge them.

Zhao Changhe rode Snow-Treading Crow, turning back every few steps. Finally, he gave one last bow, hardened his resolve, and spurred his steed into a gallop.

The resources that the Spirit Tribe had for nourishing the blood and flesh were not only ideal for Zhao Changhe’s Blood Asura Body, but also for Snow-Treading Crow. In just a few days, the horse’s growth outpaced even its master’s. Its strength had increased noticeably, and its speed was markedly greater. Upon closer inspection, faint scale-like patterns could be seen emerging on its skin. Where it once struggled to carry both Zhao Changhe and Yue Hongling during flight, it now bore them as if they were weightless, disappearing from the sight of those by the shore in an instant.

Sisi stared in the direction in which they vanished, her gaze misty. After a long silence, she murmured, “Pass my order. Mobilize the troops for northern drills. Make it as loud and visible as possible.”

“Won’t Bashu take notice if we do that?” an advisor asked hesitantly.

“That’s exactly what we want.”

“King Zhao seeks to intimidate Bashu? What if the intimidation fails and Bashu decides to engage instead?”

“Then we fight.” Sisi’s tone was calm. “Our strength is not meant solely for self-preservation. In a world that has fallen into chaos, do you think we won’t carve out a place for ourselves?”

Pan Wan hesitated for a moment before asking, “Does Your Highness harbor ambitions of conquest?”

“How could I?” Sisi replied with a radiant smile. “Right now is the time for recuperation and development. If I insisted on starting a war, I’m sure you’d all grumble behind my back.”

Pan Wan gave an awkward laugh. “Then why do this, Your Highness?”

“It’s because he will need it. Not now, but in the not-so-distant future.”

* * *

Snow-Treading Crow soared over Mount Emei, and Zhao Changhe gazed down from above. The mountain was bustling with activity. Disciples of the Divine Brilliance Sect were hard at work, training vigorously and lifting weights. Clearly, the sect had not entirely relocated to Chengdu; many disciples remained at their ancestral base.

From this alone, it did not seem like the Divine Brilliance Sect was preparing for conquest. Even if the men training were low-level disciples with limited combat ability, they still represented elite soldiers compared to the standards of the time. In an era where other forces were recruiting elderly men from rural villages to fill their ranks, it was unthinkable to let a group of well-trained warriors remain idle in the mountains without any organizational purpose.

“The Divine Brilliance Sect probably has a secret realm or some other critical resource tied to this place. That must be why they aren’t able to just abandon their old base,” Yue Hongling observed after watching for a while. “But we can’t draw conclusions from this alone. We should look around more thoroughly.”

“Mm-hm.”

He instructed Snow-Treading Crow to slow its pace, taking a more leisurely route to observe the surrounding areas.

Rumors about Li Shentong being poor at governance or struggling without the support of the aristocracy seemed quite exaggerated now. The chaos that might have ensued during the initial upheaval was now largely under control. Bashu appeared calm and peaceful, with bandit activity—a common scourge in the past—seemingly eradicated.

That was not to say everything looked prosperous. The region seemed more desolate and impoverished than before, a result of the widespread slaughter of wealthy gentry and the burning of estates. Ruins and broken walls were visible everywhere, and the population had noticeably dwindled. Li Shentong had killed far too many people, much like the Ming-Qing rebel leader, Zhang Xianzhong, who had declared himself the Emperor of Daxi after a much too bloody rebellion.

Yet amidst the scars of upheaval, signs of stability were emerging. Smoke rose from village chimneys, and while the villagers appeared thin and gaunt, their clothing seemed warm enough for the season. It seemed that Li Shentong had indeed redistributed wealth, providing food and land to the people. Though it was winter and no fields were being worked, the groundwork for recovery had clearly been laid. Moreover, the villagers, though physically frail, no longer displayed the terrified and cowed demeanor of before. There was a noticeable improvement in their spirits.

With such a foundation in place, governance was entirely feasible. There were always frustrated scholars willing to serve as officials, and it was far easier to find administrators than three-legged toads.

Passing through a county town, Zhao Changhe and Yue Hongling saw local officials conducting their duties with an air of orderliness. The administration seemed to be running smoothly.

Li Shentong might have claimed to be unskilled at governance, but it was clear that, as long as he was willing to make the effort, he did far better than Xia Longyuan ever had. Zhao Changhe thought to himself,

Old Xia really had no grounds to mock anyone else about this.

This was good news for Bashu, but it might not be good for Zhao Changhe’s mission.

If Bashu were still in chaos, convincing Li Shentong to cooperate—or even reclaiming Bashu without a fight—would have been entirely plausible. But with the region now stable and orderly, Bashu had become a legitimate power. At the very least, it could maintain a position of relative independence. Under such circumstances, why would Li Shentong feel compelled to negotiate or align with Zhao Changhe?

The couple exchanged glances, both uncertain whether they should be pleased or frustrated by what they were seeing.

“Forget it. It’s still a good thing overall,” Zhao Changhe said. “There’s no point in lingering. Let’s head straight to Chengdu and see if we can mooch a dinner.”

By sunset, the two of them had reached Chengdu. Rather than causing a spectacle by riding into the city at full gallop, they dismounted at a distance and walked their horses to the gates, keeping a low profile.

“Halt! Show your—uh...”

The guard’s questioning stopped abruptly, the entire gate falling into an eerie silence. The tension was not felt just among the guards; even the common folk entering the city could feel their hearts pounding. Two names hung unspoken on everyone’s lips, threatening to burst out.

The pair had made no effort to disguise themselves. Two years ago, Yue Hongling’s image had been plastered across the empire, inspiring countless imitators—even bandits in Beimang recognized her. Now, paired with the infamous godslayer and Blood Asura King, the mere sight of them was unmistakable. Their relationship was also widely known, and seeing them together confirmed their identities beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Under different circumstances, some bold fan might have stepped forward to ask for an autograph. But here and now? Zhao Changhe was King Zhao of the Han dynasty, and this was rebel territory.

Zhao Changhe glanced around and suddenly grinned. “What’s with the staring? It would really be great if you could inform Situ Xiao that an old friend has come for a drink. Don’t tell me he’s not here.”

Before the guard could respond, a massive bronze cauldron dropped from the sky with a thundering crash. “Want a sip?”

Even from a distance, the heady aroma of alcohol wafted from the cauldron, permeating the gate.

Despite the offer, there was no clear way to drink from it. The cauldron was upright, its mouth far too high for someone to reach without looking awkward. Someone strong enough might be inclined to lift it and pour a cup, but that was simply not possible due to its shape; it would immediately result in an alcoholic mess.

All eyes turned to Zhao Changhe, waiting to see what he would do.

He smirked, raising a single finger.

The finger pressed against one of the cauldron’s legs, and with a deft motion, sent it spinning skyward. The wine inside spiraled outward, scattering like a radiant fountain.

With a snap of his fingers, the flying droplets of wine coalesced midair, forming the shape of a cup that floated gently into his hand.

Zhao Changhe raised the makeshift wine cup and downed its contents in one smooth motion. Remarkably, the liquid structure of the cup held firm even as he drank. Then, with a casual flick of his wrist, the cup transformed into a small water dragon, which roared skyward and plunged back into the cauldron with a splash.

Everyone at the gate stared, awestruck.

Is that even still in the realm of mortal martial arts?

Zhao Changhe, however, was unimpressed. “The wine’s mediocre.”

A sigh echoed from above. “We’re poor—lower your standards a bit, will you? How about you, Heroine Yue? Want some?”

At that moment, the cauldron reached peak altitude and began to fall. But just as it started descending, the wine inside erupted violently. Countless droplets transformed into razor-sharp projectiles, flying out in all directions like a rain of swords, each aimed precisely at every person present.

Before anyone could react, the tiny swords of wine halted, each one suspended just at the lips of every intended target, unmoving.

Yue Hongling’s voice rang out smoothly, “Brother Situ, since when were you so stingy? If you’re offering, shouldn’t everyone have a share? Please, help yourselves!”

The crowd, enchanted, echoed in unison, “Thank you, Heroine Yue.”

And then, as if on cue, they opened their mouths, allowing the wine-swords to slip in and dissolve into their throats.

From the city walls, Situ Xiao’s laughter boomed. “Excellent, excellent!”

As the massive cauldron descended once more to hover three chi above Zhao Changhe’s head, he suddenly struck upward with his palm. “A toast in return, brother Situ!”

Boom!

The cauldron did not budge from its position, but the wine within roared upward, forming into a massive water dragon. With a resonant roar, the dragon surged toward a specific spot on the city walls, its path reverberating with a sound like a dragon’s cry.

“

Tsk...

” A single hand extended from the wall, lightly pressing against the dragon’s head. The water dragon froze midair, its ferocity subdued as it was gradually compressed into a large sphere of liquid. Situ Xiao’s broad face appeared at the wall’s edge, grinning as he embraced the floating wine and drank deeply, gulp after gulp.

Moments later, he drained the entire sphere and laughed heartily. “Come on in! I’ve already sent someone to slaughter a pig—at the very least, let me treat you to a proper meal.”