Chapter 8: Let’s Discuss Great Plans, Everyone

“Move your dead legs faster! The immortals are about to make their move on Baihe City!”
“The immortals don’t even care about us common folk. I’m not scared—why should I flee?”
“When immortals fight, mortals suffer. If you’re not afraid of death, stay here!”
“I see, I hadn’t thought it through. But speaking of which…”

Today, all of Baihe City’s gates were flung open. Masses of citizens poured out, with carriages and donkey carts clogging the narrow roads, creating an impenetrable jam.
Above Baihe City, cultivators stood in dense ranks, most clad in uniform spiritual robes, their waist tokens engraved with “Jingwu.”
Perched on flying swords, the Jingwu Sect disciples gazed indifferently at the teeming black dots below, like ants they itched to crush.
Finally, someone’s patience wore thin, stepping forward to ask:
“Elder Chen, if we let those ants escape, Baihe City will become a ghost town. Aren’t we going to act?”

Chen Yangyan shot him a disdainful glance, snorting coldly:
“Killing ants is easy, but if we do that, who’ll join our Jingwu Sect in the future? Besides, our real enemy hasn’t arrived yet.”
No sooner had he spoken than a disciple shouted:
“Look, everyone! So many people!”
Chen Yangyan frowned slightly, looking up to see a glint of cold light arrive first, followed by a large group of sword-riding soldiers forming a battle array. Their leader stood suspended in the air, clad in dark armor that dimmed the heavens.

The sect alliance shrouded half of Baihe City’s sky. With the imperial guards’ arrival, shadows fully enveloped the city.
“Mother, look! So many immortals in the sky!”
A girl who hadn’t fled gazed longingly at the sword-flying cultivators, only to be scooped up by a frantic woman who covered her mouth and fled.
“You reckless child, don’t you value your life?!”
Chaos erupted in the city again. Pedestrians scrambled home, no one daring to linger for the spectacle when survival was at stake.

The standoff in the sky persisted.
“I am Zhang Jingfeng, commander of the Great Han imperial guards. I come today to discuss grand plans with you all!”
Zhang Jingfeng made no effort to conceal his aura. His Golden Core realm made everyone wary of acting rashly.
Chen Yangyan’s face darkened completely. The sect alliance had gone to great lengths to block cultivation resources from leaking, all to slow the Great Han royal family’s cultivator training.
Seeing Zhang Jingfeng standing proudly between heaven and earth, backed by a mixed force of Qi Refining and Foundation Establishment soldiers, the scales of victory tipped decisively.

“Elder Chen…”
The other sects’ elders gathered tacitly around Chen Yangyan, their expressions grave.
In numbers, the imperial guards slightly outnumbered the sect alliance’s disciples, with comparable strength.
The good news: the enemy had only one Golden Core, Zhang Jingfeng, while their side had several times that number—a decisive advantage.
With this in mind, Chen Yangyan steadied himself:
“No matter. Cultivation battles aren’t won by numbers.”

His words reassured some elders, though their brows remained furrowed with worry.
“Hmph, we have no grand plans to discuss with ants like you.”
Chen Yangyan, unafraid, met him head-on.
Before a battle, verbal sparring to claim the moral high ground was an unspoken rule.
Ignoring Chen Yangyan’s mockery, Zhang Jingfeng pressed on with his greater mission, luring them in:
“You’ve all reached this realm and know cultivation’s hardships. One misstep, and you face death. In short, cultivation is about resources.”

Chen Yangyan’s expression remained impassive, in no rush, curious to see what the Great Han royal family was playing at.
Zhang Jingfeng’s tone didn’t waver:
“The National Teacher once said, ‘War has no victors, only losers.’ With spiritual energy reviving and the world renewing, His Majesty deeply feels the harm war brings to the people. He issued a decree last night: sects that join the Great Han court and honor the royal family will have access to all the empire’s resources.”

His words sparked murmurs among the sect disciples, their voices inescapable to the elders’ ears. Each harbored their own schemes, falling silent.
Chen Yangyan’s heart rang with alarm. He finally understood the Great Han’s ploy and roared:
“You’re talking nonsense! Don’t fall for his divisive tactics! Today, we start with Baihe City, and soon the entire Great Han will be ours to take. Don’t ruin your own futures!”
“Too late!”

Zhang Jingfeng didn’t back down. In an instant, the auras of the two Golden Core cultivators erupted, clashing in their first skirmish.
The city’s residents below had no idea what was happening above, only feeling a sudden, inexplicable chest pain, nearly suffocating. Thankfully, the sensation came and went quickly.
The first clash ended with neither side yielding, but Chen Yangyan’s face grew darker, a heavy pressure radiating toward the surrounding elders.
Zhang Jingfeng snorted coldly, unleashing his final trump card:
“A few days ago, His Majesty received the Qi Introduction Record from the Great Han National Teacher. With this technique, mortals can cross the cultivation threshold in a short time, reaching Qi Refining or even Foundation Establishment. The soldiers behind me are proof.”

“What?!”
The Qi Introduction Record’s revelation detonated among the sect disciples, unsettling even the elders.
“There’s really such a technique in this world?”
“Damn! If there’s such an easy method, what were my years of grueling cultivation for?! I’m still just at Qi Refining!”
“Doesn’t that mean this technique can mass-produce Qi Refining soldiers? Why even fight, brothers? Just surrender!”

Seeing the spark turn into a blaze, Zhang Jingfeng knew it was time to serve the main course.
“His Majesty decrees: any sect that joins the Great Han court and honors the royal family will have access to the Qi Introduction Record!”
“…”

Outside Baihe City.
“What a sky…”
The carriage wheels rattled over the muddy field path, but it didn’t stop Baizhu from gazing at the sky, lost in thought.
“Young lady, Baihe City is just ahead.”
The respectful coachman kept his eyes on the road to avoid potholes, though his gaze occasionally flicked to the white figure on the carriage.
Clad in a snow-white robe, she wore a wide-brimmed veiled hat, its long white veil completely hiding her face and hair down to her chest.
Her gaze behind the veil was unreadable, her presence a pure, silent aloofness, like a walking mist in the mortal world.

He’d seen many generous rich ladies, but this one was a first.
His instincts told him the face behind the veil was surely breathtaking, but reason urged him to treat her like any other noblewoman.
“Hm.”
Her reply carried no emotion. The coachman hesitated, then spoke again:
“Young lady, from your accent, you’re not local. Baihe City is in turmoil now—everyone’s fleeing, yet you’re heading straight into it.”
After speaking, he waited, but no reply came, so he fell silent.

Baizhu lay on the straw mat, neither confirming nor denying.
This was the third year of Dingwu. After lying low in the National Teacher’s residence for over two hundred years, she’d found only one person blessed with destiny. That little one should be three years old now.
The world was on the cusp of great change, and Baizhu believed the turning point was near.
Liu Qingyan’s birth might just be the beginning.