Chapter 41: Hunting Guiche
The perspective shifts to the northbound Wu Family Army. After setting off northward, an imperial decree from the Imperial Court arrived, ordering the Wu Family Army to halt on the eastern bank of the Donghua River to assist in suppressing the water tribe in Yunmeng Marsh.
When the Imperial Court’s messenger read the decree aloud, the generals received it on their knees, but the decree did not carry overwhelming authority. The army flags rustled loudly, their billowing sounds clashing with the rhythm of the imperial envoy’s proclamation. Meanwhile, the baton and axe held by the imperial envoy twisted like a braid, wriggling like a snake’s tail, as if evading something. This anomaly was clearly produced because the Imperial Court’s edict could not make the army obey smoothly.
This is a world where everything can be subjected to Yao Calculation, including human hearts and mountains and rivers!
Rulers must account for the people and their domain, and constantly monitor themselves for any lapses in virtue. If a flawed edict is transmitted downward and ultimately enforced, it will lose balance in the “dynastic aura.”
As for the current situation: Before the Imperial Court’s decree was issued, the Wu Family Army had already moved to camp by the Donghua River.
The reason was that the army had previously camped there as a result of yielding to conflicts with local nobles like the prefect and other powerful clans.
At that time, the Imperial Court did not promptly adjudicate the conflict, but waited until the Wu Family Army had swallowed their anger and compromised before suddenly issuing a supplementary order in the form of a “command,” as if to say, “This suits my intentions perfectly; all your actions were arranged by me.”
In truth, the Imperial Court could have done nothing, tacitly acknowledging the conflict between the obediently mobilized Wu Family Army and the local noble families. It would be best to admit this conflict outright. It wouldn’t even need immediate resolution, as loyal subjects understand that these are turbulent times.
The Wu Family Army refrained from escalating the conflict, hence their yielding redeployment.
However, the Imperial Court’s supplementary order directly endorsed the southern noble families’ bullying of the passing army, which had forced an early decampment, granting it legitimacy. Now, proclaiming the decree was tantamount to telling the Wu Family Army that such yielding was exactly what they should do!
This emboldened the noble families, who had shown restraint during initial negotiations, to become arrogant: Since you weren’t wronged, you should promptly accommodate the noble families—turtle bastards, you should have been this self-aware from the start.
In peacetime, civilian control of military maintains the so-called greater good not just through “civilian” means, but also by relying on the “military’s” awareness.
The stratum that wields destructive power is expected not to throw tantrums lightly. But that doesn’t mean certain delusional strata can throw tantrums at them recklessly!
The Imperial Court’s messenger watched Wu Hanluan kneel to receive the decree. He saw no impropriety in the general’s demeanor, but sensed the atmosphere was off, so he hastily conveyed the decree and departed.
The messenger knew that this “supplementary order” from the Imperial Court was actually the result of petitions from local officials like the prefect of Tao’nan Commandery!
Having just clashed with the passing army, it was inappropriate to “petition” at this time. For the Imperial Court to fully heed such a “petition” was even more inappropriate.
With national affairs in dire straits, the Imperial Court now relies on military strategists, who in turn must trust the Imperial Court before serving.
Yet the military strategists distrust the noble families, while the Imperial Court sides with them! Thus, the military strategists now distrust the Imperial Court as well.
…Seeming peaceful but rife with undercurrents…
Now, regarding why the Imperial Court mobilized the Wu Family Army northward.
In the midpoint of the 26th year of the Shu Tian Calendar, a strange star crashed into Yunmeng Marsh. Local officials concealed it without reporting or investigating. However, the strange star that fell here was a mountain-sized dragon boat, hidden in the mists of Yunmeng Marsh. It completed repairs over one cold and hot season, after which all the water tribe in the great marsh submitted to it.
Enraged upon learning this, the Imperial Court could no longer punish the local officials since the deed was done. It could only order nearby troops to exterminate the rebellious water tribe here. But the local soldiers were ineffective! Over two continuous years, not only were the water bandits not eradicated, but they grew stronger, prompting urgent mobilization of available soldiers from surrounding areas to strangle them.
Half a year ago, Ji Prefecture troops were mobilized to participate in the suppression, but they still failed to pacify the area. The water tribe’s chaos increased rather than diminished.
Thus, to swiftly pacify it, the available soldiers from the two bamboo states were naturally pulled to the frontline.
Of course, the Imperial Court still had another large army in the area besieging the water tribe, which is why it treated the Wu Family Army so carelessly.
…Three days after the Imperial Court’s envoy departed…
Near the Wu Family Army’s central army encampment, they encountered a problem. The over ten thousand northward-bound troops were now camped in a place called “Hongze,” which, as the name implies, is a marshy area connected to Yunmeng Marsh.
Twenty kilometers south of “Hongtan” lay Changcheng.
Changcheng is a hub of multiple waterways, known as the nine prefectures’ thoroughfare, with the waterways dividing the area into two or three sections.
In the Industrial Age, bridges could span these waterways, dams could stabilize the river courses, and high-rises could be built simultaneously in the three sections divided by the rivers, with industry and commerce zones planned to form a metropolis.
But in this era, the city lacks the ability to span the river. Thus, Changcheng was built separately on the south side, while Yunmeng Marsh lies to the southeast.
Currently, the other two armies have also set up two large camps on the south side, confronting the Yunmeng Marsh water bandits.
On the map, the Wu Family Army appears shoved into an irrelevant corner in the north to camp! This is a sign of neglect.
And this placement did not grant the Wu Family Army peaceful days. There were things in the north as well.
After initially completing the camp setup, Wu Hengyu frowned at the army’s food and grass supplies. The military camp always had only seven days’ worth, with fresh supplies arriving from Changcheng every seven days.
Yes, the supplies for these tens of thousands of troops were not in the camp, but in the high-walled city of Changcheng across the river, and in the strongholds of nearby powerful clans.
Separating food and grass supplies from the army was the Imperial Court’s current means of still controlling the various armies!
Consider it: If an army occupied a city, had its own city walls, and possessed its own storage system, it would become an uncontrolled fiefdom.
Camps built relying on mountain ranges, with camp areas inside deer-horn fences distributed like a city, even featuring a marketplace specifically for peddlers to enter.
“Woo~ woo~”
The horn sounded, and soldiers in the camp began forming ranks to exit and head up the mountain to chop wood. Wu Hengyu also picked up his helmet and left the military tent. These past few days, the wild beasts in the mountains had been extremely ferocious, often gathering in packs to attack people. This was precisely why the southern noble families left this northern plot of land for the Wu Family Army to camp on.
…Malice attracts fierce beasts…
Two hours later, the officers and soldiers on the mountain were chopping wood, loading tree after tree onto carts. Wu Hengyu rode his horse through the column, surveying the ancient road that had been cleared and was already overgrown.
Suddenly, the gong to retreat sounded from ahead. A horde of monsters burst out from somewhere in the mountains. Among these monsters were bear-like beasts and wild boar demons, clamoring in a group of fully four to five hundred, suddenly appearing on the mountain.
Wu Hengyu stared intently at the treacherous peaks and ridges, where clouds gathered on the mountain ridge—clearly, something had just mobilized killing intent, gathering these monsters from the mountains!
Wu Hengyu sighed, “Water tribe in the water (southern Yunmeng Marsh), monsters in the mountains—the local government office is truly deficient in virtue to the extreme.”
In the Xi Ren Realm, heaven and earth, mountains and rivers, and the human realm are mutually harmonious and interconnected. In other words, if harmony fails, heaven and earth and mountains and rivers slip beyond human realm influence. Especially if the human realm malfunctions, malice arises in mountains and rivers, causing anomalies among people who rely on them—beasts that lick dew and rocks learn to devour souls. Thus, monsters are born.
“Spirit” and “monster” are two different things: spirits arise from wild beasts devouring humans to gain intelligence; monsters were originally human commoners invaded by strange qi, transforming into monsters.
So these in the mountains are “spirits,” while those water tribe in southern Yunmeng Marsh are “monsters.”
According to Da Yao Confucian ideals, under sagely rule, celestial-human resonance ensures no monsters appear.
When mountains and rivers no longer resonate celestially with the monarch and governors, and breed monsters to devour the human realm—what to do?
The military strategists’ theory is “kill”: kill as many monsters as there are, slaughter them clean, sacrifice to mountains and rivers, and they will naturally resonate celestially with humans again. That’s how it was at Yongji Pass—the mountain range’s sha cave is used by Wu Fei.
Returning to Wu Hengyu’s current battle: An army of over fifteen hundred had already formed ranks.
Wu Hengyu gazed at the monster horde on the opposite hillside. The various mountain spirits clad in grass garments at the front were nothing to fear, but the mountain spirits lacked formation ability! Above the enemy formation, winds and clouds churned.
Army general Wu Hengyu patted his mount “Wuzhui.” This strange beast spread its wings, riding the winds and clouds to gain altitude.
Wu Hengyu formed a spell with his fingers, spiritual light flickering at his fingertips. He swiped them across his brow, opening his heavenly eye, then clearly saw the things in the three cloud masses above the enemy formation! He was greatly startled—these were three giant aerial beasts.
These three giant beasts resembled phoenixes, far larger in build than Lingnan’s devouring pig eagles, with wingspans of fully fifty meters, and nine heads each.
Wu Hengyu instantly realized what they were: Nine-headed Birds, Nine Phoenixes—or a more obscure name, Guiche. Unlike the auspicious phoenix, Guiche is extremely malevolent, fond of devouring children’s soul qi.
Guiche is an extremely formidable ominous creature. Wu Hengyu gritted his teeth and charged upward.
The formation flags began to turn, Wu Hengyu’s infantry ranks elongating into a broader line, advancing step by step. This military formation didn’t aim to directly harm the aerial Guiche, but to pressure via formation momentum, scattering the Guiche’s ground spirit assistants, depriving it of their killing intent support. Once tainted by the army’s killing intent, it would lose flight capability and be forced down.
At this moment, the Wu Family Army’s killing intent formed a great net in the sky. Any aerial birds touched by this killing intent would have weighted wings, forcing them to fly low and flee the battlefield.
Wu Fei would never consider such a reckless personal aerial melee with flying giant monsters.
Specifically, Wu Fei would have soldiers form ranks to guard cannons, then send cavalry archers to harass the enemy formation and lure out flying beasts. Once isolated, use nets and tripwires to trap them, then shoot from afar.
Wu Hengyu’s group was up the mountain chopping wood when they encountered Guiche—they hadn’t brought cannons at all.
If Wu Hengyu didn’t charge directly, Guiche’s plan was: one stirring winds and clouds ahead, while the other two flanked from the sides and rear. When the front mountain spirits charged into melee, they would dive to strike the Wu Family Army formation.
Now, all three Guiche charged forward. Facing Wu Hengyu’s mount Wuzhui transforming into divine beast state and aggressively advancing, these nine-headed birds were clearly panicked, so they first unleashed a volley of their innate skills.
Each of the nine heads possessed supernatural powers like spewing fire, whipping sand, fanning poisonous smoke, etc. Several heads now lashed out wildly at sky and earth. One burst of poisonous smoke swept the ground, withering grass and trees within a hundred paces around the impact point.
But Wu Hengyu evaded this volley of interwoven death rays, then thrust fiercely at the largest one. Wu Hengyu’s spearmanship was sharp—basically exploding a bird head with every three thrusts. Even if they regenerated after exploding, they couldn’t withstand such a harvest rate.
Shouts came from the rear formation: “General, I’ll assist you!” Behind him, twelve generals riding dragon horses followed up.
Wu Hengyu raised the Star River Spear: “You lot just flank from the sides.” Clouds swirled around Wu Hengyu like living things, forming a powerful shield.
No sooner said than done—his mount’s wind-riding technique flashed, and Wu Hengyu single-handedly charged into the enemy formation’s airspace, one spear beheading a Guiche hidden in the clouds!
The slain Guiche left no corpse, instead dissipating into red mist that condensed into blood rain pouring from the sky onto the mountain spirits’ disheveled fur. Some mountain spirits’ fur sloughed off like grass scorched by acid, instantly sparking panic and chaos, disrupting their formation.
Immediately after, Wu Hengyu, wielding his spear horizontally in midair, pointed distantly. Below, a team of axemen understood the order, shed their armor to lighten their load, accelerated, and flanked via the indicated route.
Under this fierce hacking, the already low-morale mountain spirit monsters were slaughtered through.
Seeing this, the remaining two aerial Guiche anxiously tried to dive, but were blocked by flanking generals on dragon horses. Nearby, the palace attendant hurled his long halberd in an arcing strike, intercepting a Guiche’s retreat path and sending a spray of black feathers airborne.
Meanwhile, Wu Hengyu instantly swooped down. The two giant beasts were forced to crash into nearby bushes, battling Wu Hengyu from sky to side—eighteen heads against his single spear in a stalemate. But soon, soldiers rushed into the jungle to surround them.
When infantry with long weapons closed in shoulder-to-shoulder for a group beating, the outcome was decided.
Long spear soldiers covered mouths and noses with urine-soaked cloth, closing in. The nine-headed bird was pinned firmly to the ground, whimpering continuously, chest heaving like a multi-headed rooster held down.
In the large camp, the captive nine-headed birds were locked in cages, sealed with runes, and suppressed in the central tent. Next, this nine-headed bird awaited forty-nine days of “refining.”
In the large camp, Wu Hanluan watched the two from outside the cage on the training ground—their heads collectively buried in indigo chest feathers like ostriches in the sand: “Such strange beasts, not used by our army—truly a pity.”
Beside him, Wu Hengyu said, “Then I’ll catch a few more!”
Wu Hanluan shook his head: “No rush, no rush.” He then approached the cage, directly plucking a feather from the giant beast. The Guiche immediately bared teeth through the bars, several heads priming to spew breath—but Wu Hanluan lightly coughed, and the Guiche went limp as if throat grasped, reverting from ferocity, heads drooping.
Wu Hanluan toyed with the feather in hand, saying to Wu Hengyu, “Send it to Yuan Chang.”
Wu Hengyu frowned: “This thousands-of-li journey—we’re sending this beast home?”
Wu Hanluan shook his head: “We’re sending goose feathers thousands of li.”
Wu Hengyu was puzzled.
Wu Hanluan: “It’s to tell him there’s work here for him to do.”
He drew a map on the ground sand with an arrow, pointing it out to Wu Hengyu: Once the Wu Family Army’s military killing intent pierced through the mountains blocked by malice, a trade route actually ran through here.
The nearby generals understood.
……
With the Guiche hunted, the mountain’s malice dissipated. In Changcheng, the prefect saw the northern mountains calm, lit a lamp to study the map at the Wu Family Army’s camp position! After a long while, he said, this southern army can pacify local peace.
Thus, he prepared gifts, intending to visit Wu Hanluan.
