Li Guanyi hadn't slept at all the night before. By midday, he said he wanted to rest. Xue Daoyong arranged a guest room for him in the front courtyard's side wing. There, he finally slept soundly for over an hour. When he awoke, he sat cross-legged on the bed, looking out at the evening sun with a somewhat lethargic air.
He was thinking about what needed to be done next.
He picked up a silver piece and set it on the bed.
"Leave the border."
Then he placed an arrow beside the silver.
"Though ideally, I'll enter enemy territory... If I can get my hands on a set of inner armor while crossing the border, even better."
"And I still need to deal with the poison in my body."
"I must establish the strongest foundation for entering the next cultivation realm."
"And…"
"Money. Enough money."
Li Guanyi looked at the irregular silver pieces on the bed and sighed. This was the loot he had taken after killing Qian Zheng's remaining men last night: thirty-three taels of silver, over a hundred copper coins—some being the current Taiping Coins, others the previous emperor's Da'an Coins—all wrapped in cloth.
For his former self, it was enough to get by. But if he was to leave the border and enter the Ying Kingdom—and considering the costs of cultivation—it wasn't sufficient.
Old Master Xue hadn't offered him any extra funds either.
Li Guanyi felt he needed to figure out a way to make some money.
He couldn't just turn his head and call for the young lady every time something went wrong.
As he thought about this, he began organizing his spoils of war—besides the silver, there were some hemostatic medicinal powders. They were already turning dark and had a sharp, pungent odor—the kind of aggressive medicine that was highly effective but extremely irritating.
Beyond that, there were some letters, some already yellowed. Li Guanyi opened and read them—they were all family letters. The oldest yellowed one even had a tone of complaint.
"Big brother, the winter clothes came a bit late this year. You wrote that if it couldn't be done, to send money instead. But taxes were too high this year—there wasn't much money, only half.
You receive army pay, you shouldn't have spent it all.
Just endure the cold for a few days."
It seemed that Qian Zheng had written home from the border asking his parents for winter clothing.
The Chen Kingdom's border with the Ying Kingdom was neither fully southern nor northern.
Its winters were as cold as the north, but as damp as the south. When the west wind blew, cotton clothes became soaked with moisture, clinging to the body like a layer of icy needles stabbing through the skin and into the bones. Border soldiers in their fifties or sixties often suffered from chronic bone pain—severe and crippling.
But how could it be that even the border troops of the wealthy Chen Kingdom had no money?
Li Guanyi recalled Xue Daoyong's words and continued reading the next letter.
"Big brother, don't keep urging us. You said the army lacked silver, so Mother has gone to borrow more.
Father still goes to the fields in winter. Isn't Father's army about to merge with yours?
He's not young anymore—you should look after him."
The third letter read:
"Heard your unit is now under Marshal Yue's command and won a few battles.
The reward money you sent homemade Father very happy—he even drank a little wine.
He arranged a good match for me—the second son of Old Liu at the village entrance. You used to play with him a lot as a child. Not sure if you still remember him.
Big brother, you should find a wife too."
The following letters were all about family matters—but the word that constantly popped up was tax.
Five-year tax. Three-year tax.
And Qian Zheng desperately tried to earn reward money through combat.
One particular letter made Li Guanyi pause.
"The officials collected spring taxes again.
After last year's three-year tax, you took all the reward money. We had nothing left and couldn't borrow more.
Father's leg was broken. He was bedridden. First bedsores, then festering. He couldn't stand up, and eventually… he was gone.
He didn't want us to spend money treating him. Stopped eating, and passed away.
Big brother, I heard Marshal Yue was reassigned.
Father offended a superior and was punished. Was he badly injured?
I've included some copper coins—use them for Father's treatment."
Then, the fourth letter:
"Father's gone. Mother cried until she went blind.
The Liu family no longer wants me.
With no options left, a high-ranking eunuch came to town, saying the palace needed people.
The conditions were decent, so I went. Some money I'm sending to you, some I left with Mother.
You said once you enter the next realm, things will be better. I'll wait for you. Don't worry.
Life here is good. No one hits or bullies me."
Next came the final letter—its touch was unusually delicate.
"Today, palace maid Qian Qian died.
Compensation: fifty guans of coins.
Funeral expenses: five guns.
Disruption to palace duties: five guns.
Debts owed: thirty guan.
Funds transferred via postal station: five guns.
Miscellaneous fees for sealing and delivering the letter: three guans, seven mò.
Remaining: one hundred thirty-five wen (copper coins), transferred to her brother Qian Zheng for the sake of clarity and moral virtue."
Li Guanyi remained silent for a long time.
He saw the stains of blood and water on that final letter.
He saw the cloth-wrapped pouch containing those one hundred thirty-five bright, polished copper coins.
And he understood why Qian Zheng had gone mad.
Li Guanyi put the letter down.
Then, he placed the 135 copper coins back into the cloth pouch and tied it up.
He looked outside as if lost in thought.
At last, he reined in the tumultuous emotions and thoughts swirling in his mind. With a long exhale, he muttered to himself:
The border is corrupt, the rewards are lacking, and the families of soldiers bear heavy taxes.
Qian Zheng's case may not be the norm, but it's certainly not an exception.
And under such conditions, even generals are being falsely accused.
"This is doomed."
There was no need for further deduction.
Li Guanyi's understanding of history turned into an instinctual conclusion that struck him like a hammer to the face.
An intense urgency welled up inside him.
He needed to advance his cultivation—fast.
If Qian Zheng had reached the next realm earlier, perhaps his fate would've been different.
No matter how much Li Guanyi had gleaned from these letters, one thing was now certain in his heart:
Achieving the "Entering Realm" had become his number one priority.
In this broken world, without power, one couldn't even protect oneself—let alone others.
He was skilled in the offense. So he had to defeat the Tiele Third Prince as soon as possible and obtain the "Canglang Guard."
When Li Guanyi walked out of the courtyard, he saw Xue Shuangtao still practicing archery. He picked up his bow and arrow—but then suddenly called out to her.
The girl looked at him, puzzled. Li Guanyi said:
"Earlier, I said I shot down some carrion-feeding crows. I misspoke."
"They were once birds of prey—skilled hunters of the skies."
"It was only this sky that drove them mad until they fed on the dead."
Xue Shuangtao looked at him.
She took half a step back.
Then she tapped him lightly on the forehead with her bow and said:
"I don't know what you're hinting at, Li Guanyi…"
She paused.
"But first, let's practice archery!"
She raised her eyebrows and pointed at the arrows.
"Playing the zither calms the heart. Archery steadies the mind.
No matter what's troubling you, a tired body will help clear your head."
"Don't worry. I'll keep practicing with you—until you figure things out."
While practicing, Xue Shuangtao asked curiously:
"Did you regret it—killing that vulture?"
Li Guanyi looked into the clear eyes of the young lady. He couldn't tell whether she understood his deeper meaning, or if she simply thought he was melancholic over having killed a bird.
So he replied:
"It had already become a carrion-feeding bird of prey."
Thus, he didn't regret it.
He was still a spirited youth in this world—yet a passing thought crossed his heart:
Would he, too, someday change in this chaotic era?
He suddenly thought of Yaoguang's words:
"As long as you don't become a tyrant who plunges the world into chaos, I will always stay by your side."
Arrows flew like rain.
What Li Guanyi was learning now wasn't just accuracy—but the various archery techniques.
Xue Shuangtao, having been trained by Xue Daoyong since childhood, had solid fundamentals.
Li Guanyi lacked this very foundation.
As the sun dipped low in the sky, he set down his bow.
Xue Changqing had already collapsed onto the stone table, exhausted.
Li Guanyi leisurely pulled out his arts and numbers craft books and began teaching again.
Another hour passed.
Xue Changqing was nearly burned out—his little face pale. He said:
"How about, Mister, you tell me a story instead? No more math lessons."
Li Guanyi replied:
"I could, but I came here to teach you numbercraft."
Xue Changqing said:
"I'll pay more!"
He placed a small piece of silver on the table, eyes shining.
"Mister, don't teach me math—just one more hour of stories, please!"
Li Guanyi pondered and said:
"Then let me tell you about the Tiele Third Prince from five hundred years ago."
Xue Changqing groaned, holding his head in despair:
"Not history again!"
Li Guanyi smiled:
"But my story is different."
He began telling it not as a dry historical account, but like a wuxia tale.
He framed the Tiele Third Prince as a great enemy—like in old martial stories.
Even Xue Shuangtao grew curious:
"Where did you hear these stories?"
The youth smiled shyly:
"While fleeing as a refugee, I came across two men drinking together. One was named Jin, and the other was Gu.
They were swapping tales over wine—I just happened to overhear and memorized a few."
Xue Shuangtao rolled her eyes:
"You're making things up again."
She crossed her arms and lay down on the stone table, listening with interest.
Xue Changqing asked:
"Wasn't the Tiele Third Prince a giant—three zhang tall, three zhang wide, with a fierce face and fangs?
He's not like how you describe him."
Li Guanyi said:
"Nice description."
Xue Changqing said proudly:
"You've never seen him either. Maybe he was like I said?"
Li Guanyi replied:
"Then based on your description, here's a math problem:
If he's a block of wood three zhang tall and three zhang wide, how much volume is that?
How many wooden chairs could be made from it?
And if split into logs three chi long and two fingers wide, how many logs would that be?"
Xue Changqing's face turned white.
Xue Shuangtao gently tossed a fruit at Li Guanyi:
"Don't scare him. Just tell the story."
Li Guanyi smiled slightly and, using a wuxia-style narrative, recounted the historical record of the Tiele Third Prince:
"The Tiele Third Prince wielded a curved blade, elegant and deadly.
He had a large beard but was strikingly handsome.
The histories say he was the reincarnation of the Celestial Wolf."
His tone was calm, but the story was captivating.
The one who faced off against the Third Prince in the tale was a swordsman who wielded a heavy blade. They clashed face-to-face.
When the blades met, the prince's sword danced along the edge like a butterfly before delivering a sweeping blow.
Under the setting sun, the youth telling the story stood with his black hair fluttering in the wind.
His eyes were warm and scholarly.
The sunset's light reflected in his gaze.
A cold gleam suddenly shone in Li Guanyi's eyes.
He turned sharply, lifting his heavy blade—clashing once more with the blade of the Tiele Third Prince.
A duel between warriors.
A clash between a five-hundred-year-old legend and the youth of today.
Night had already fallen.
He had entered the secret realm again—to challenge the Tiele Third Prince anew.
General Xue watched on with a smile.
The youth stepped back, evading the dazzling blade dance, eyes locked on the enemy who had killed him countless times before.
"Tiele Third Prince."
"Tonight, I will defeat you."
General Xue raised an eyebrow and smiled:
"Oh? You've got guts. Then shall we place a bet?
If you can defeat him this time without dying—"
"In addition to the Canglang Guard, I'll give you one more gift—my inheritance.
Something even the Great Emperor once coveted."
"But if you lose—then I'll write my mark—'正'—on your body."
At that moment, the Tiele Third Prince let out a long howl.
The form of the Celestial Wolf appeared behind him. Arms crossed—he charged forward in the stance of the Canglang Guard!
Li Guanyi replied calmly:
"Then be ready!"
The bronze cauldron roared and trembled.
He grasped his bow.
Dragons roared, tigers bellowed.
And by his side—the Dragon and Tiger manifested.
(End of Chapter)