Chapter 3: Dragons And Snakes Rise
Da Yao, Central Prefecture.
This land is rich in resources and treasures, densely populated with people, fertile fields crisscrossing in all directions. From high above, the rivers and mountains are as picturesque as brocade, and on this brocade, the Divine Capital, this great city, is embedded like the dot in a dragon’s eye.
The perspective descends into this city, where the Son of Heaven’s aura swirls between the broad rivers and grand buildings.
First, on the ground of this great city, there are four man-made canals, two vertical and two horizontal, forming a “well” character. And on these rivers, bridges like tall buildings stand on both banks of the canals. The Divine Capital has eight such bridges. These hundred-meter-spanning bridges fix the Divine Capital’s wealth entrances and exits like nails locking down the earth dragon.
The “archways” pre-left on the bridges can pass dragon boats five stories high. After the dragon boats enter the river channel, turbid water currents surge up in the channel, and the arched undercurrents cause two-zhang-long, several-ton-heavy tortoise-shell dragon water beasts to surface. They will bite the tow ropes with their mouths, obey the horn sounds from the dragon boats, and start towing, pulling the dragon boats into the channel.
These water beasts are said to have faint qilin bloodlines. But now they are merely coolies under the Da Yao “Legalist Laws.”
After pulling the dragon boats to the predetermined positions, these water beasts sink into the pools, leaving swirling vortices in the pool water.
…The arch bridges lock down the water veins…
If it is nighttime, looking up at the sky reveals “dragon light shooting through the Ox and Fight ruins.”
At the central points of the nine districts divided by the man-made canals, the architectural layout faintly forms a dragon shape, and at the tops of the buildings forming the dragon’s spine, there are faintly electric lights and clouds drifting.
And at night, after the lights gradually extinguish, this brilliance surges into the sky. Correspondingly, at hundreds of zhang high in the sky, nine palaces appear.
This is not a mirage; they are real palaces suspended in the sky, with auspicious beasts and spiritual birds flying into them, where the Son of Heaven and numerous ministers handle affairs under heaven.
Among these nine palaces, the one drifting in the southeast is the Qian Palace.
In the Qian Palace, in the central grand hall, stands a massive fifty-zhang sundial.
In the various complex areas delineated by this sundial, streams of “Yin Yang Two Energies” are forming Yao Calculation arrays. The Sitian Cheng working here record every intersection point of the Yin Yang Two Energies’ long traces, then perform deductions.
Dynasty’s Second Rank spirit-observing official Lu Shaoqi, holding a pen made of spiritual fox fur, dots and draws a star chart on silk cloth. Suddenly, his gaze grows increasingly grave, his hand pinches calculations faster, and after finishing, he looks up toward the direction of the “Wu Kang Star” in the blue sky, murmuring: “Disaster from beyond the heavens?”
At this moment, a comet faintly streaks across the sky.
…The dividing line of the comet’s double tail…
The next day, at the imperial court assembly, Emperor Shu, wearing the twelve-pendant crown, looks at the silk star chart in his hand and says indifferently to the attending ministers beside him: “A dragon descendant abandoned folk has returned.” At these words, the entire Da Yao Dynasty falls silent.
The Wu ministers exchange glances, while the civil officials raise their jade tablets to prepare remonstrations.
Da Yao’s arrangements for the surrounding foreign races and demon kinds are actually just two: either assimilate or drive them to the savage lands. Dragon descendants are naturally an extremely noble lineage, and the abandoned folk are those who followed the Cheng Dynasty when it fled during the Da Yao replacement six thousand years ago.
Emperor Shu’s term “abandoned folk” has already expressed his attitude.
Emperor Shu’s stern voice descends from the top of the white jade steps: “Cloud Mansion, Han Sheng.”
The Grand Marshal and Grand Minister of Works on the imperial court step forward, while the eunuch scribes nearby take out yellow silk to prepare records, and the hundred officials also know the imperial decree conveyed by His Majesty.
Da Yao is now at its peak, unable to spare extra grace. Therefore, order the officers and soldiers in all directions to hold the borders firmly.
Subsequently, the Sitian Cheng also receive the decree. In the nine heavenly palaces, in the Zhen Palace in the exact east, at the central altar, the ritual unfolds. As the Son of Heaven’s order is embedded in the central notch, mobilizing the power of heaven and earth, the perspective pulls high: signals fluctuate on the planet’s surface and spread in the vast space, issuing a warning to forces beyond the heavens.
However, this time’s arrival is not just the dragon descendant; four additional evil forces are stealthily following behind.
…The dividing line spanning south to north…
Da Yao Emperor Shu Year 23, in the southern border region, Wu Fei (Xuan Chong) is guarding a camp on a rocky high ground by the water. At the same time, he commands his camp teams to confront those “things” outside the camp.
At this moment outside the camp, snake people twisting their bodies are issuing hissing war roars. Hearing such roars makes one’s whole body uncomfortable, just like a face full of fishy stench.
In the main camp, Xuan Chong is issuing orders: add more barricades, rotate watchtowers, scatter caltrops in the grass at spots that look like fence gaps where one could sneak in; two teams of armored braves with knives and axes on standby at all times, using shields as blankets, sleeping in tents near the camp gates. And some of these tents at the camp gates are still empty; iron pieces hanging inside that jingle ensure enemies cannot gain the upper hand when sneaking in to raid the camp.
Xuan Chong: It’s said the special forces soldier king in previous life novels is pretty formidable; gotta watch out.
Most battles occur outside the camp, with snake people occasionally throwing spears that smash into shields, but these throws are all from beyond fifty paces, lacking the force to pierce shields. On the contrary, from the main camp side, human light bows shoot ignited “sulfur pine resin” arrows that can scorch these snake people’s skin.
Xuan Chong stands on watchtower three, watching the snake people block the gate.
Wu Fei yawns and orders: “Same as usual, when the sun sets in the afternoon and the cold wind rises, dispatch two camps to drive them away. The other camps rest easy; get up on time at night and wear down the snakes.”
A nearby cavalry officer steps forward wanting to say something, but Wu Fei preempts him: “Right, where are the brothers from the next grain transport wave?”
Then he unfolds the silk map on his own, where river waves shimmer on the cloth roll, and a small boat marker appears.
Looking at the map on the cloth roll, Wu Fei mutters to himself: “Oh, six more shichen of waterway.” Then he clearly instructs the nearby cavalry officer preparing to request battle: “Send some people to keep communication with the grain escort officer, set a time, enter camp and hand over grain.”
The military camp cavalry captain looks at this lazy young general, opens his mouth wanting to say something, but swallows the words in the end.
As for what this cavalry officer really wanted to say? Wu Fei knows.
“The snake people blocking the gate right now aren’t many; that’s prime military merit! If Young General Wu advances a bit, he can definitely impress the old general!” That’s the advice for Wu Fei.
But actually, the camp leaders’ private gripes are: “This little sparrow stays inside the military tent gate and doesn’t step out, just like a sheltered young lady!”
Wu Fei (Xuan Chong) completely disregards villains’ petty complaints behind his back. He lies back down to sleep. As for the snake people at the gate, once afternoon cools and they can’t sun themselves, they’ll naturally back off. —As for charging out? Better no trouble than extra; in the Three Kingdoms story he read before transmigrating, there’s the “loss of Jieting.”
Wu Fei muses: “Just doing one’s duty is fine; why go out and take risks?” Then he glances at those squad leaders in the tent.
These squad leaders under his uncle naturally obey orders unquestioningly, but he himself cannot control them “freely.”
As a modern person, Wu Fei laments that these subordinates are standard feudal troops. Once he issues a military order and unleashes the dogs, uh, lets these dimwits charge out of camp, if they get excited from killing, they might even pretend not to hear the gong to retreat.
Feudal army performance is based on military merit rewards and punishments; snake people heads are very valuable.
He lacks the prestige to make these veterans drop heads and return to camp at critical killing moments. And once his camp-guarding army is lured far away and ambushed, his main duty is endangered!
Wu Fei surveys the surrounding terrain: three roads from the great warehouse, north has two land routes, one to the hill, one into the jungle. South is a river channel. —Scouts dispatched by Wu Fei bring a series of information, making Xuan Chong feel the snake people are luring him out.
Wu Fei: I’ve been coming up empty lately; gotta make these snake people come up empty too.
Note: Snake people can dive directly into the river to eat fish. Wild fishing in the river by the camp should yield fish, but none, so Xuan Chong judges the snake people number over five or six hundred.
Wu Fei: If he really loses the grain station, his uncle might not execute him, but a hundred military cudgels are inevitable, plus face tattooing, social death in the clan.
Lying in the military tent, Wu Fei looks up at the sunlight filtering through the tent top; this weather is “Wei Hour” (1-3 PM). He judges he can sleep two more hours, but in tension he can’t sleep at all, fearing that while he sleeps, some old soldier heads in the military camp go out alone.
Wu Fei sighs: “Fuck, leading these old soldiers is harder than herding thirty million pigs in Huaihai.”
…Lush mountain forests, all grass and trees as soldiers dividing line…
Shen Hour has passed, the sun blocked by distant mountain tops. Though the sky is still bright, the mountain shadows bring a sudden chill to the great warehouse front by the river; snake people swimming beyond a hundred zhang from the camp slow their frequency.
Horn sounds rise in the camp, followed by the sound of hooves grinding the ground.
A team of sixty peasant cavalry holding halberds prepares to exit camp. And those snake people seem to sense something, starting to twist and flee.
At this moment in the camp, as the four-directional flags change, the camp’s peaceful aura shifts, the Yao phase “yang turning yin.”
With the camp’s Feng Shui technique mobilized, cold air below two meters in the nearby river is drawn up, then scattered by a sudden gale onto the snake people outside the camp. These snake people lacking clothes, with only half-body scales, suddenly shiver as if an icy hand is stuffed down their necks in winter, no longer majestic like midday dragon-tail swings. Even their swimming movements slow greatly.
Wu Fei jests: Cold-blooded animals, scales for moisture retention, no fur for insulation; afternoon wind rises, water sprinkled, not so cocky now, huh?
Regarding snake people combat power, Wu Fei knew before leading troops. Every June, snake people stir in Lingnan. Normal individuals five to six meters from head to tail, two meters tall semi-upright; when attacking, snake tails can snap cow legs, and for ranged? They can throw a seven-kilo wooden spear fifty meters.
The dented shields and dislocated peasant soldiers in camp prove the snake people’s waist and arm strength.
But, per Wu Fei’s summary: Snake people high burst power generally occurs above twenty-five degrees; once below ten degrees, they’re not so impressive.
Thus, Wu Fei guards the grain station, waiting daily for “when the sun hides behind mountain tops, valley winds can raise the great flags,” then blows the horn for riders to periodically drive off snake people.
River bottom cold water, blown by wind, carries quite the autumn chill.
The peasant cavalry who just drank hot soup are pumped, swinging simple peasant halberds of curved knife and spear bindings with proficiency like threshing rice with sickles. Relying on horse momentum to approach from the side, slashing deep vertical cuts into snake people; wounded snake people curl and counterattack in death throes, but horses have arced away.
Wu Fei in camp watches the snake people mostly flee, then sounds the gong to retreat.
The attacking peasant cavalry have no chance to dismount for heads, and their recent strike mostly just slashed scales, not fatal wounds. Snake people vitality is much tougher than human.
Wounded snake people still have ferocity; heads aren’t easy to take.
Xuan Chong doesn’t fuss over heads, orders riders on return to dismount and drop peasant halberds to the inspection officer before entering tents; any with flesh and blood on them get a share of alcohol and meat.
Some peasant cavalry to cheat even deliberately notch their halberds, making red traces more obvious on the edge (like half-broken nails draw more blood), so as not to be scolded by inspectors: “You smeared blood and mud on the blade to scam booze!”
This wave, Wu Fei dispatches fully two cavalry teams, one hundred twenty men, hitting hard because his own grain transport team is coming soon; gotta clean up for the boat brothers to unload in peace.
As for each team’s cavalry leaders, Wu Fei credits them ten heads’ merit. Others might not conjure heads from thin air, but Wu Fei has an uncle; unreported snake people heads from rear passes are stored in the warehouse.
Such a reward and punishment system is standard, neither rousing battle fervor nor letting anyone slack when effort is needed. Even the oiliest soldier feels he should land a few real stabs on the battlefield.
As the core figure in all this, Wu Fei feels no “military power in hand” thrill; instead, a bit of “company boss and subordinates scheming against each other” exhaustion.
Xuan Chong: Others as generals have orders obeyed unquestioningly, but me, it’s tough.
At this time Xuan Chong commands five hundred men, seven teams (camps), constantly in petty circle struggles with the mid-level camp leaders below.
After sunset nears, in the main camp, Wu Fei personally rechecks spears and halberds. Mm, after carefully sniffing faint-blood weapons for blood scent, he quickly distributes today’s alcohol and meat. Guarding the stronghold is simplest; the only caution is reward and punishment.
…Ten shichen later…
Grain transport ships appear on the upstream river. Camp watchtower guards and ship grain officers connect via “torch” signals; Wu Fei waves the command flag. Soon, drill ground peasant soldiers queued on standby enter the dock to form lines, arranging unloading wooden tracks and wheelbarrows.
Ten fifteen-zhang-long tortoise shell ships dock, snake-thrown spears stuck in the tortoise shell ship defense panels; clearly snake people targeted this grain transport team too.
Tortoise shell ships toss iron hooks to snag dock pilings, slowly docking; Wu Fei doesn’t fling open the gates to welcome, but orders camp alert, peasant soldiers form arrays strict and ready, first verify passwords, then send family men into cabins to check; only after confirmation open the camp gate!
Wu Fei: What if the ship holds not grain but a nest of snake people? That’d be too surprising. History has no lack of such “clever ploys” succeeding on lax commanders.
Bags of grain first lifted via foot pedals to slideboards, then slide along tracks to wheelbarrows forty meters away, wheelbarrows loaded and pushed to front gate for entry, pierced by bamboo tubes to spill grains, confirmed no mold, then stacked in numbered areas.
And at the granary’s left side door, every night, Yin Yao activates, Five Ghosts Transport Method array starts; as ghost talismans attach to transport vehicles one by one, grain and grass transport vehicles gain nighttime stealth ability, while another grain officer waiting in camp rolls batches of grain and grass to army camps dozens of li away.
Five Ghosts Transport Method relies on “magic altars” on mountain peaks’ earth veins and great river water veins; max transport range one prefecture. In this great war, Wu Fei’s grain station receives grain supplied from other prefectures.
…Lurking and patrolling confrontation line…
On a mountain top six kilometers away, a pair of vertical pupils stares at the brightly torch-lit dock on the riverbank, surrounded by sulfur smoke wafting from the Da Yao army grain camp.
This pupils’ owner is a white snake person. Fine scales on its face make it very refined, though still a “snake head,” possessing a civility other snake people lack.
At this time, Wu Family Army’s main force is raiding and sweeping the eight hundred li Chilian Mountain Range. Fourteen egg-laying sites have already been raided by Wu Hanluan’s armored soldiers.
The laborer troops serving corvee in Wu Fei’s camp. Compared to the genuine grain-eating armored braves under General Wu Hanluan, their combat power is a notch weaker.
Wu Hanluan’s main team is a “qualitative” gap against these southern border foreign races still using bone tools; even if snake people bet everything and assemble four times the troops, they can’t stop Wu Family battle soldiers.
So, in these dozen days, the snake priest White Scales spying on Wu Fei’s camp from the mountain top thinks their victory’s only key is cutting off this Wu Family Army grain station.
But, this White Scales as opponent is quite frustrated by the grain station guard’s caution.
White Scales has clearly been anxious lately, shedding some skin rubbing against stones. He unfolds snake people witchcraft, snake-like smoke forming images of snake tribe leaders before him, and the smoke-formed snake people issue hissing communication sounds.
In this “remote 3D video conference,” White Scales points at the distant grain station: “Can’t take by stratagem, must seize by force.”
White Scales priest himself doesn’t notice the eerie blue flickering in his pupils.
Blue, blue
