Chapter 1: Muster Troops
The “clang clang clang” of the gong; the “dong dong dong” of the drum; and the “toot toot” of the horn——
In this military camp smelling of horse dung, Xuan Chong, who had just adapted to his identity as a scion of a military family, adjusted his iron helmet and irritably hammered the saddle with fists—light once, heavy once, totally erratic.
The dragon horse sensed its unreliable master’s unreasonable patting, turned its horse head, and sprayed a strong snort, warning Xuan Chong: “Don’t mess with me!” Then it turned its butt around, threateningly pawed the ground with its hind hooves, and kicked up some dust backward.
Oh, even without using its hooves, this dragon horse’s protruding teeth like a wild boar’s were quite intimidating.
Xuan Chong could only step aside, took the slingshot from his waist, aimed at the dragon horse’s stinky face, then immediately shot at the ground. With a “patta” sound, mud splashed beside the horse’s hoof. The dragon horse instantly lowered its head and cowered. Xuan Chong put down the slingshot, snorted coldly: “Smart of you!” Then he took out a handful of beans from his bosom to soothe it.
As for the reason for his bad mood, a month ago he took over the matter of rectifying the illicit sale of alcohol in the military camp, but while investigating, due to improper handling, it nearly caused a small-scale camp mutiny.
The matter eventually reached the command tent, and the military family’s handling result was: he was punished and confined to reflect on his actions.
In the tent behind Xuan Chong where he was reflecting, a large stack of silk books was piled up. He had to memorize the contents and prepare for the inspection; otherwise, at the exam in half a month, failure meant public punishment with the military cudgel. His interaction with the mount just now was because memorizing the books made him anxious, so he went out for some air.
Xuan Chong stroked this bean-eating dragon horse and cursed: “You beast, so carefree.”
……
Xuan Chong was a transmigrator. Oh, this transmigration wasn’t some wild method; he had a system and cheats. By web novel standards, this was very “perfect.”
But Xuan Chong himself was very confused. He came from an era with mobile phones and food delivery, yet not all memories were complete. For example, exactly which year he transmigrated in his previous life, his family situation, even what his previous life’s national flag looked like—these memories were all fuzzy.
The system indicated he came from the 40th century side, here for “educational practice.” Although he forgot some things, he was sure the system’s so-called 40th century was too distant.
Sure enough, Xuan Chong once again opened the system interface in his view and made an inquiry.
The system recited by the book again: “Memory blur may be due to some of your knowledge involving prohibited content during transmigration; it was sealed to protect the plane’s cultural ecology.”
Xuan Chong: “Prohibited knowledge, like ‘one sulfur two nitrate three charcoal,’ ‘blast furnace injecting hot air for steel smelting,’ or ‘pulley theorem’ based on Newton’s theorem, ‘triple expansion reciprocating steam boiler’?”
Xuan Chong smugly thought to himself: previous life’s science popularization short videos weren’t watched in vain. Though specific technical processes weren’t fully clear, with enough manpower and materials, he was confident he could figure out seventy to eighty percent within five years. This! Counts as prohibited knowledge destroying plane culture?
The system did not answer and sent a “you’re bragging” emoji.
The system still explained (perfunctorily): “Prohibited information refers to the ‘beep beep beep’ information regulated by the ‘Juvenile Protection Law’; everything you can think of now has passed review.”
Xuan Chong: “What does ‘beep beep beep’ mean?”
System: “Beep beep beep means censored.”
Xuan Chong nodded, then revealed his true purpose in teasing this time: “Alright, can you help me (memorize) record some military treatises? Um, just me noting some cheat sheets on you.”
System: “Cannot.”
Xuan Chong: “Other systems can; some can even directly scan the sect’s merit law library for the protagonist. Can’t you just help me record?”
System: “Mm, system malfunction, storage card capacity insufficient.”
Xuan Chong: “Damn, this text content doesn’t exceed ten thousand characters. You&%% tell me memory insufficient.”
However, next, the system played dead.
…World introduction divider…
Alright, after Xuan Chong learned the details of this world, he confirmed he might be a bit arrogant. This plane had “Daoist Magic,” “witchcraft,” and other strange arts and secret methods.
Da Yao Dynasty, where Xuan Chong transmigrated; that’s right, Xuan Chong was very surprised that this dynasty used square characters. Though there were slight differences in strokes, the font radical structure principle was the same. The character “Yao” describing the crisscrossing long and short horizontal lines of hexagram images referenced the upper half of “yao” in delicacies, originating from knife marks on grilled meat—this wasn’t commonly used in the 20th century. But here, it was a key symbol in Daoist Magic calculations.
The military camp’s “beneficial livestock talisman” for raising horses, the “dust-raising technique” to conceal cavalry movements in battle, even the “thunder slash curse” attached to beacon towers—all were Daoist arts.
The content Xuan Chong couldn’t read and came out to hammer the horse was about military camp killing intent corresponding to mountains and rivers in Yao calculation methods.
The humans in this world very data-izedly divided all things in the world into “Yin Yao” and “Yang Yao,” then derived according to formulas in classics, while leveraging the Yao calculation verification system to guide anomalous phenomena manifestations.
…Ten days later…
As Xuan Chong in his uncle’s tent (main military tent) memorized all nine thousand words of the military treatise; the military cudgel was exempted, but confinement still continued for a while. For this, Xuan Chong requested a batch of books to continue reading.
When he first arrived in this world, Xuan Chong wasn’t used to the vertical seal script here, but as he silently wrote and recorded on the sand table, he gradually got used to reading such arranged fonts, finding pleasure in reading more.
The family side naturally supported Wu Fei wanting to read books, so they sent military classics and annotated mountains and rivers classic.
Xuan Chong (Wu Fei) gradually tasted the flavor of this Da Yao Dynasty amid the sea of books and classics.
Da Yao belonged to the Eastern “ritual system” dynasty.——His own system emphasized “not feudal.”
The military family Xuan Chong belonged to had five marquises, among which his uncle’s line was Ting Marquis, with a fief of seven hundred households.
By European feudal standards, that’s at least an earl. An earl could forge armor and soldiers on his territory, only needing to fulfill obligations like “follow in combat” and “pay taxes” to the kingdom; he could mess around freely in his territory.
Under the ritual system dynasty, there was no such freedom; civil and military court officials had to comply with the ritual system! Nothing could transgress.
For example, his current uncle Wu Hanluan was a Ting Marquis, allowed three hundred servants, but could not keep over a hundred retainers.
What are “retainers”? They are people treated with courtesy by nobles. In Da Yao, poor family people were “treat me as a state scholar, I will serve loyally as a state scholar.” In other words, keeping many servants shows favor and authority to them, but not righteousness. When nobles fall, servants bound by favor and authority scatter like birds and beasts, while scholars treated with courtesy daily, showing great righteousness, will follow to the death.
So, after reflecting in confinement, Xuan Chong gradually understood: in the feudal era, upper ones talking “equality” is not charity to lowers, but a “downward investment” that makes other higher uppers wary.
Knowing this taboo, Xuan Chong vaguely feared his past negligence.
At this time, his transmigrated Wu Family as a military family could maintain workshops, maintaining a certain number of bows, horses, armor. This number was set by the military book roster, but if the workshop forged far exceeding armor, it would be charged with rebellion.
In the early transmigration period, Xuan Chong fantasized gathering the family artisans forging armor and casting knives for a big push, smelting steel and iron—definitely a transgression. Of course no one would indulge his madness; if really successful, tsk tsk, the whole family skinned and carved with “Yao” pattern knives by executioners, burned on iron plates.
It was said three hundred years ago, Da Yao Dynasty’s Son of Heaven summoned Marquis of Qi for audience, ordered him boiled alive in a cauldron. The crime was transgression: conscripting ten thousand to mine copper in mountains, casting military strategist war weapons.
After Marquis of Qi was boiled, vassal lords under heaven trembled; for a hundred years, none dared transgress! Military strategists held military, Legalists managed punishments, Confucians herded the people, under heaven orderly.
……
After confinement ended. A messenger soldier came to Xuan Chong’s confinement tent, knocked the wooden mallet once. Xuan Chong reading inside immediately dressed neatly, came out, and received the order.
Several breaths later, Xuan Chong confirmed from his personal soldier that confinement was lifted, summoned by the general, hurriedly ran to the adjacent stable, fiercely patted the horse’s butt, signaling the beast to perk up, then found a “vigor pill” from his carried gourd and stuffed it into the already open-mouthed dragon horse’s mouth.
The dragon horse swallowed this “bean pill” like a child gnawing candy beans, excitedly snorted loudly, lowered its original nearly 1.8-meter stature to let Xuan Chong mount, white smoke rose under hooves, flapped its not-yet-fully-grown dragon wings on both sides, raised hooves, and galloped toward the main military tent.
Horse hooves stepping on the ground produced cloud qi. The cloud qi like previous life’s ground effect aircraft lifted by airflow allowed the dragon horse to fly two meters off the ground.
This galloping acceleration made Xuan Chong sigh: this world is truly wondrous.
Arriving at the central army, he saw a cultivator carrying a dharma sword outside the main tent. This sect disciple down the mountain for training casually flung a light body talisman, directly onto the mounted Xuan Chong; the talisman-hit Xuan Chong immediately seemed freed from gravity, floating down from the horse’s back like a feather.
Xuan Chong helped down by Daoist magic cupped fists to thank his brother, but the brother pinched a Daoist formula and transmitted: “Little sparrow (Wu Fei’s childhood name), the marshal is waiting for you in the military camp.”
Being called by childhood name, Xuan Chong was unhappy, but still thanked and hurriedly entered the main military tent.
Boots stepping into the leather-paved main tent, weapons like axes and halberds placed on both sides, and Wu Fei’s uncle, General Pingnan Wu Hanluan, put down the silk scroll in hand.
Xuan Chong glanced at that scroll; in the military camp, bamboo slips generally recorded various military generals’ positions and military camp edicts, because bamboo slips aided copying and distribution.
Daoist arts were generally recorded on spiritual materials like “jade bi” and “turtle shells,” while silk often held feng shui (maps) and such materials.
Materials on the leader’s table were very important.
Xuan Chong glanced at the scroll and found that roll of silk book was just pulled out, meaning it seemed “new map” to open. Linking to recent days of gathering food and supplies everywhere in the military camp, while prohibiting merchants from selling salt to the south, clearly a strategy shift toward southern foreign races.
Sickly yet pot-bellied Wu Hanluan looked at his nephew tiptoeing to peek at his desk, snorted coldly, slapped out a palm; an invisible force swept out, pushing the unsteady Wu Fei flat on his back.
Wu Hanluan put down the silk book in hand, raised his eyes: “Enter the tent without saluting, you want the military cudgel?”
Wu Fei quickly got up, properly knelt, squeaked “Subordinate general dares not,” but inwardly muttered: “Ten cudgels bedridden three days, hundred cudgels break legs. The old man losing the horse, who knows it’s not a blessing? Broken legs, can just lie flat.”
Wu Fei: “Subordinate knows sin, willing to receive military law handling.” But his performance was emotionless like “fresh meat acting.” Oh, comparable to elementary students’ dragging tone in morning reading.
Obviously such lack of emotion was very disrespectful to the audience. Thus, the responsible director directly entered to warn.
Wu Hanluan immediately drew his knife; the oncoming killing intent terrified Xuan Chong greatly. Though knowing uncle was scaring him, he still retreated steps. Simultaneously prepared to bolt out the tent. But Xuan Chong didn’t escape, because two soldiers at the entrance crossed axes and halberds to block.
Wu Hanluan stared at this uncomprehending nephew until his legs shook, then sheathed the knife. Sighed: “Yuan Chang (courtesy name), I know you want to learn Dao, but you lack the affinity!”
Wu Fei quickly replied: “Uncle, I know. My aptitude is poor; this life only killing.”
As a transmigrator, Xuan Chong had long inquired, and each family’s responses to his questions were similar to his uncle’s: in Da Yao Dynasty, each mountain top’s Daoist Sects had limited disciple slots.
He was rejected by each Daoist Sect for some reason. Bluntly put, “impure Dao heart.”
Xuan Chong cursed those Daoist noses: if not recruiting, say straight; what excuses.
…Xuan Chong covets those immortal sects. Given chance, definitely make a big one.…
Each sect had unclear relations with major noble families and the imperial court; for example, Wu Family actively sent people to surrounding Qinghua Sect. And each southern conquest, sects dispatched Wu Family disciples down mountain to assist the army.
(Similar to Investiture of Gods, Huang Feihu in battle meets Huang Tianhua down mountain)
Xuan Chong’s understanding: that cousin Wu Hengyu must have had uncle bribe, so stayed in sect. Himself deemed “aptitude” insufficient, so gilded in sect, swept ground two years on mountain, then kicked out to carry spear—not fair!
Xuan Chong was extremely anxious at first about not seeking immortality post-transmigration, but gradually, after understanding related info, slowly accepted—especially knowing missed best cultivation timing, started slacking—though knowing now a bit “willful,” but that unfulfilled dissatisfaction lingered.
Thus Xuan Chong asked the system: “System, they say I can’t cultivate immortality, what do you think.”
System: Your aptitude insufficient, don’t take this path.
Xuan Chong inwardly griped: “What means aptitude insufficient? Why?”
This transmigrated Wu Fei had an eldest sister and little sister taken as disciples by sect’s female sword immortal, and this uncle’s son, his cousin, succeeded in Foundation Establishment in sect.
Xuan Chong was extremely displeased; inwardly a dissatisfied voice roared: “I’m a transmigrator, I have golden finger, I want to cultivate truth, Foundation Establishment, Golden Core!”
As a transmigrator from “mobile phone food delivery” era, Xuan Chong who stayed up all night reading novels yearned greatly for cultivation.
Even though this world’s Daoist Sect Golden Cores lacked “move mountains fill seas” mythic power, and each house had skills countering immortal arts—like military strategists gathering killing intent to counter spiritual energy; history recorded immortals with three flowers cut off facing army’s powerful bows and crossbows no different from mortal flesh.
Even in this plane, Daoist Sects’ “ascension” wasn’t to immortal realm, seemed leaving this planet in energy state to other planets. That is, so-called small world.
Wu Fei: But living centuries is real.——All blame being led astray young by some monkey: three thousand great daos, longevity suffices.
And now interrupted in “life pursuit” by this plane world’s NPCs, mm, though not worst start, this feeling of pursuit derailed to another track—very displeasing.
……
Wu Hanluan sheathed the knife, picked up the silk cloth and asked Xuan Chong: “Do you know where you went wrong?”
This referred to last month’s investigation of illicit alcohol sales in the military camp.
Xuan Chong raised his head: “Nephew handled improperly; then, nephew should have investigated covertly without a word, while outwardly smiling at them.”
Wu Hanluan coldly: “Consider you improved.”
Xuan Chong answered thus because these days this uncle’s personal soldier leaked info—those implicated soldiers were all transferred out of camp this month. Meaning Wu Hanluan, during Xuan Chong’s confinement, first stabilized them, then quietly handled.
With such a standard answer, if Xuan Chong still couldn’t guess, he’d be a giant baby.
Xuan Chong also understood: investigating military camp drunken negligence leading to supervision, the error not in “impartiality without mercy.” Military camp illicit brewing first wasted military grain, second caused fights. This Wu Hanluan deeply hated; without knowing uncle’s attitude, Xuan Chong wouldn’t have been so rash.
After self-reflection, Xuan Chong reflected from his actions’ results: biggest problem not ruthless enough, still thinking of procedures, letting these ruffian soldiers selling alcohol in camp sense threat, time to respond, spread rumors in camp!
Military camp unlike previous life’s atomized society, had many kin relations, brotherly loyalties; hitting one pulls a group. Enforcing discipline, must cut off these processed black sheep before they react, then suture. Cut slow, massive bleeding, hard to suture.
So a month ago, when his alcohol ban stirred trouble, Wu Hanluan first quelled the incident, confined him, then slowly handled.
……
Wu Hanluan was displeased Wu Fei still thought of cultivation during confinement, but now re-asking his reflection on the month’s incident, satisfied even surprised by this “attitude of admitting wrong”—nephew improved so fast!
Wu Hanluan commented: Knowing own action problems, no longer stubborn—that’s biggest merit.
Since ancient times, on battlefield father-son soldiers; own team still relies on family.
Wu Hanluan: “You’ve read the military treatise; test today.”
Xuan Chong raised head: “Please general call troops for me.”
Wu Hanluan nodded, flung the bamboo token in hand. Token flew like green arrow outside tent, hit third drum face in row of drums, issued “dong” muffled sound; the originally carved white jade bluebird on drum suddenly lived, flapped flying to sky; then a palace attendant walked in.
Wu Hanluan flung: “Old Zhao, to commander’s platform, beat drum.”
Zhao surname personal soldier cupped fists: “Understood.”
Wu Hanluan eyed his nephew; gaze clearly: mule or horse, pull out for a trot.
As transmigrator Xuan Chong raised head. Though eyes somewhat nervous, related “calling troops notes”—like 21st century traffic rules info amount—he memorized three months, exam should pass no problem.
This isn’t cultivation novel.
