Guo Jing and Huang Rong stood side by side atop the city wall, gazing down at the vast, churning sea of the Jin army below. Though they had faced such scenes many times before, a tense unease still stirred deep within them.
The Lord of Xiangyang slowly walked up to the ramparts, came to Guo Jing's side, and said in a resolute tone, "Hero Guo, this time the Jin army is coming with fierce and unstoppable momentum. The soldiers and civilians of Xiangyang all depend on the two of you. During this battle, please feel free to deploy the garrison and townsfolk as you see fit to jointly resist the Mongol invasion."
Guo Jing nodded slightly, his expression grave as he replied, "Defending Xiangyang is my unshirkable duty."
Huang Rong cast a gentle glance at Guo Jing, then turned to the Lord of Xiangyang and said, "Thank you for your trust, Lord Lu. Please brief us in detail on the city's strategic reserves as soon as possible, and summon the officers of all ranks here so we can discuss the upcoming defense strategy together."
Lord Lu hastily replied, "Naturally. I have already notified the officers to come here, and I believe they will arrive shortly. As for the inventory ledger of our military supplies, it will be delivered to you very shortly."
At that moment, numerous officers began filing up to the main gate tower.
Guo Jing swept his gaze over the menacing Mongol army not far outside the city, a surge of resolute determination rising in his chest.
Guo Jing took a deep breath and spoke in a steady, calm voice, "Our defensive strategy remains unchanged. I trust all of you generals will stick to your posts and do everything in your power to hold Xiangyang!" As he spoke, a flash of unwavering grit shone in his eyes.
luego, Guo Jing added firmly, "I will personally lead a group of martial arts masters to attempt an assassination of the Mongol commander, throwing their command into disarray. Once the Mongol army falls into chaos, you may all act according to circumstances."
Hearing this, the generals successively stepped forward to pledge that they would hold this vital city to the death and would personally ride out of the gates to welcome Hero Guo when the time came.
One general straightened his chest and said loudly, "Hero Guo, rest assured! We shall spare no effort to guard Xiangyang!"
Another general immediately chimed in, "With us here, we will never let the Mongol army easily breach the walls!"
Guo Jing nodded slightly, satisfied with the generals' declarations. He knew how arduous this battle would be, but he believed that as long as everyone pulled together, they would certainly withstand the Mongol assault. He turned to look at the enemy forces outside the city, a trace of absolute resolve flashing in his eyes. At this critical juncture, he had to step forward and lead the people in defending their homeland.
***
By evening, the Guo residence was brightly lit. A gathering of martial arts masters had assembled there, creating an atmosphere of solemn reverence.
These martial folk hailed from all corners of the land, each with their own unique background, but at this moment, their shared purpose was to defend Xiangyang and repel the invading Mongol forces.
Guo Jing walked into the main hall, cupped his fists in salute to everyone present one by one, and then strode up to take the seat of honor.
Guo Jing's steady voice echoed through the hall: "I believe you all know that the Mongol army has come to attack Xiangyang. Xiangyang is a vital barrier for our Great Song; once it falls, the consequences will be unimaginable. If we are to drive back the enemy this time, we must rely entirely on your utmost assistance."
Hearing this, the crowd nodded in agreement. At that moment, a burly man with rough features stood up and boomed, "Hero Guo, we came to Xiangyang precisely to slaughter some Mongols! Your great name has long been thunderous to our ears, and we all admire your character and martial prowess. Since we've come this far, we are here to take your orders—just give the word and arrange things as you see fit!"
Next, another man dressed in tattered clothes, who looked as though he had lived as a vagrant for years, stepped out and asked, "Hero Guo, will the heads of the Jin soldiers we kill count as military merit, or can they be converted into silver taels? Most of us make a living by hunting wild beasts, and while serving our country is an unshrapnel duty, having some tangible benefits would surely rid us of any worries back home."
Hearing this, Guo Jing pondered for a moment before nodding and replying, "I understand your concerns. In this defense of Xiangyang, all those who render meritorious service will be commended by the imperial court. As for the specific rewards, I will discuss them with the city officials to ensure everyone's efforts receive fitting compensation."
As soon as Guo Jing's voice trailed off, a chorus of approval rose throughout the hall. Everyone expressed their willingness to fully assist Guo Jing in jointly resisting the Mongol army.
Then Guo Jing looked at the assembly and said, "I plan to divide us into two groups. One group will be led by myself, taking a number of martial arts masters to assist the Xiangyang garrison in defending the city; the other group will be led by Brother Ye Fan, to execute a decapitation strike and attempt to slay the Jin commander, thereby lifting the crisis facing Xiangyang!"
As soon as Guo Jing finished speaking, Ye Fan walked slowly into the Guo residence. Dressed in a black robe, his stride was steady and powerful, his expression calm and composed. His appearance immediately drew everyone's attention, and the hall fell silent in an instant.
Guo Jing smiled as he introduced him to the crowd: "This is Brother Ye Fan. He possesses formidable martial arts and a righteous heart. Today he has come specifically to help us fight off the Mongol army."
Ye Fan glanced around at the crowd, then let out a faint smile.
Following that, Ye Fan slightly released his aura. That aura swept across the room like a breath of fresh breeze yet carried an invisible pressure that instantly quieted the previously bustling hall.
Feeling Ye Fan's aura, the people could not help but feel a surge of awe, after which they successively took their leave to make preparations for the impending battle.
***
"Woo—"
As the horns sounded from within the Mongol battle array, countless Mongol soldiers surged forward toward Xiangyang City like a raging, violent tide. Deafening battle cries erupted from their lips, shaking the heavens as if they meant to tear the very earth and sky apart. Flames soared into the clouds, dyeing half the horizon crimson and laying bare the brutal, merciless nature of war.
Guo Jing stood atop the city wall, leading the defending soldiers in a fierce and desperate resistance. His gaze was steadfast, his face grave, every swing of his sword carrying boundless power and determination.
Yet the Jin army's onslaught was unusually ferocious, wave after wave of attacks gradually leaving the defending soldiers feeling overextended and outmatched. On the battlefield, blade-lights and sword-shadows intertwined, blood splattered everywhere, and soldiers from both sides kept falling.
Guo Jing was burning with anxiety; he knew all too well that the consequences would be unthinkable if the city failed to hold. But the Mongol forces were simply too overwhelming, their assaults crashing down like a storm of wind and rain that was difficult to withstand.
Just then, the Mongol army suddenly sounded the gong to retreat, pulling back like receding tides. Guo Jing gazed at the departing Jin forces and let out a breath of relief, yet he understood that this was merely a temporary breathing space—a far greater crisis still awaited them.
Late at night, Ye Fan led a small team quietly out of the city, and before long, they crept stealthily into the Mongol army camp.
Ye Fan turned and spoke softly to those beside him, "Remember, we must act according to the plan we agreed upon earlier." With that, he took a deep breath.
As Ye Fan's voice faded, flames erupted across the Mongol camp, illuminating the entire night sky. Amidst the blazing fire, Jin soldiers fled in panic and disarray, their shouts and cries of terror rising one after another.
Employing the Lingyun Step, Ye Fan's figure darted swiftly toward the Mongol commander's main tent like a phantom. His speed was terrifying, flashing like lightning as he crossed vast tracts of the Mongol encampment in the blink of an eye. The Mongol soldiers along the way were utterly powerless to block his path, left with no choice but to watch helplessly as he sped past.
Just as Ye Fan was about to reach the main tent, a figure suddenly materialized before him.
The man was draped in a yellow robe, exceptionally tall and lean like a bamboo pole, with a slightly sunken forehead that made his head resemble a shallow dish. He blocked Ye Fan's path and shouted sternly, "Audacious scoundrel, how dare you trespass here!" His voice was laden with majesty and fury.
Ye Fan halted his momentum, his left hand swiftly channeling the Shattering Cloud Palm as he thrust it forward. The force of the palm howled through the air, whipping up a fierce gale.
The monk stood his ground, his face solemn, hands pressed together in a prayer stance as he muttered incantations under his breath. Suddenly, he let out a thunderous roar that reverberated throughout the entire tent. At the sound of that shout, the stones beneath his feet instantly shattered into flying debris.
Yet before long, the monk was struck by Ye Fan's palm and sent flying straight into the main tent like a kite with a snapped string, crashing heavily against the tent wall. A trail of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth as he slowly slid down. Ye Fan looked up at him and thought to himself, *I surely didn't kill him with one strike, did I? Is he faking it?*
Ye Fan strode into the main tent, the longsword in his hand gleaming with a cold light. His gaze was icy as he closed in on the monk step by step. When he reached the monk's side, he drew his sword without hesitation and swept it toward the monk's neck.
However, the very instant the tip of the sword was about to brush the monk's throat, the monk suddenly snapped his eyes open, a flash of craftiness gleaming within them. He leaped up nimbly, dodging to the side with agile grace to evade Ye Fan's strike.
Moving with ghost-like agility, the monk darted aside, then lunged forward to the side of the Mongol general seated on the master's throne, panting heavily with terror written across his face.
The Mongol commander's expression turned gloomy as he gazed at the scene before him. He stared at Ye Fan, his eyes revealing a mixture of appreciation and wariness.
After a moment, he spoke, "The young hero possesses remarkable martial arts, but the southward advance of my Mongol nation is unstoppable—it is not something an individual can alter. I have long heard an old saying in the Central Plains: 'He who adapts to circumstances is a wise man.' If Your Excellency is willing to cooperate with us, we will certainly treat you well. For now, whatever requests you may have, feel free to name them. As long as they are reasonable, I have the final say and will agree to them."
Ye Fan smiled faintly, secretly channeling his Sword Martial Soul as an icy, piercing sword intent quietly permeated the air.
He said, "What I want, Grand Commander, is something I'm afraid you cannot give."
Noticing the hidden meaning in Ye Fan's words, the Mongol commander grew alert. He signaled the warriors at his side to shield him, then said, "Just name it. Whatever I possess, I can give you."
Hearing this, Ye Fan's expression turned stern, his gaze sharp as lightning, and he declared loudly:
"I request the loan of your head."
The moment the words left his mouth, his figure abruptly surged into motion. Employing the Lingyun Step, he charged toward the Jin commander with the speed of a lightning bolt.
The warrior standing guard before the Mongol commander hastily raised his saber to parry, but Ye Fan's movements were blindingly fast. Empowered by his Sword Martial Soul, his sword slashed out, and the warrior was instantly cleaved in two, blood spraying across the air.
Ye Fan's movements were fierce and decisive. In the blink of an eye, he had closed the distance to the Mongol commander. The guards beside the commander turned pale with shock, scrambling to draw their swords and meet the enemy. But Ye Fan's sword momentum was like a rainbow—ferocious and peerless. Amidst flashing sword light, he broke through layer after layer of defense, bearing down directly on the commander.
The Mongol commander's expression changed drastically at the sight, and he scrambled backward in haste, but Ye Fan's offensive was unstoppable. With a twist of his body, his sword tip pointed straight at the commander's throat, the entire sequence smooth and flowing as drifting clouds and flowing water.
Seeing their commander in mortal danger, the surrounding Mongol soldiers swarmed in from all sides, but Ye Fan's swordsmanship completely suppressed them. The longsword in his hand seemed endowed with life as it wove through the crowd, every single strike finding its mark with unerring accuracy and plunging the enemy forces into utter demoralization.
In the end, following a fierce exchange, Ye Fan cut down all the surrounding Mongol soldiers as well as the monk from earlier.
Ye Fan stood holding his sword, his stern gaze sweeping across the surroundings, striking terror into the hearts of both the present and incoming Mongol troops.
Shortly after, he activated the Lingyun Step, rapidly cutting his way across the battlefield and galloping back toward Xiangyang. Ye Fan's figure left a trail of lingering afterimages upon the field of war.
Meanwhile, taking advantage of the chaos within the Mongol camp, the garrison inside Xiangyang City sallied forth to engage the Jin forces. The city gates swung wide open, and squads of well-trained soldiers rapidly assembled, launching a counterattack against the disoriented Jin army.
Lacking their commander, the Mongol troops were plunged into momentary chaos and failed to organize an effective defense. The Xiangyang garrison pressed their advantage, gradually seizing the initiative on the battlefield.
Upon re-entering the city, Ye Fan and his companions headed swiftly toward the Guo residence. When they arrived, Huang Rong was already waiting at the entrance.
She asked with concern, "Is everyone alright? Did anyone get hurt?"
Ye Fan replied, clad in blood-stained garments, "Nothing serious."
With that, Ye Fan casually pulled an arrow out of his body, thinking to himself, *Thank goodness I was wearing the soft armor I bought in the World of Immortals; otherwise, I would have suffered a severe wound.*
The few companions behind Ye Fan also chimed in, "No major issues, though a few of our brothers lost their lives on the battlefield."
Hearing this, they all lowered their heads, then simultaneously looked at Ye Fan with the shared thought: *We just set a fire, quickly withdrew from the Mongol camp, and killed a few stragglers in the chaos—this fellow right here is the true monster!*
Ye Fan and the others followed Huang Rong into the Guo residence and saw that Guo Jing was already waiting in the main hall. Seeing them return safely, Guo Jing let out a sigh of relief and spoke up, "Young Master Ye, your operation was a resounding success; you have heavily dented the morale of the Mongol army. The garrison is currently seizing the opportunity to counterattack, and the situation is extremely favorable to us."
Ye Fan nodded and said, "Hero Guo, we have done our best. The battles that follow will still require your command."
Afterward, all except Ye Fan offered their farewells and departed.
Once everyone else had left, Ye Fan tossed the head of the Mongol commander onto the floor and said, "Hero Guo can now fulfill our agreement."
At that moment, Huang Rong walked out holding a manual, handed it to Ye Fan, and said, "Young Master Ye, this is the Nine Yin True Sutra."
Holding the manual, Ye Fan thought to himself, *Open personal status panel.*
Host: Ye Fan
Cultivation: Peak of the Ninth Layer of Qi Martial Realm (Pseudo-Xiantian)
Martial Skills: Shattering Cloud Palm (Palm Intent Tier 1), Lingyun Step (Wind Intent Tier 1), Nine Suns Divine Skill (Consummated), Nine Yin True Sutra (Complete), Solitary Nine Swords (Sword Intent Tier 1)
Divine Artifacts: None
Origin Coin: 5
With the Nine Yin True Sutra in hand, Ye Fan bid farewell to Guo Jing.
In a small courtyard within Xiangyang City, Xiao Longnü stood by the doorway gazing down the street. Suddenly catching sight of Ye Fan's figure, she dashed forward and threw her arms around him.
Ye Fan looked at Xiao Longnü and said, "Though I've changed my clothes, I haven't bathed yet—I smell a bit."
Xiao Longnü raised her head, smiled faintly, and said, "I don't care. As long as Big Brother Ye comes back safely, that's enough."
Gazing at Xiao Longnü, a wave of warmth surged in Ye Fan's heart. He smiled and said, "Why don't you join me in a moment?"
With that, he gently flicked the tip of Xiao Longnü's nose.
Teased by Ye Fan's gesture, Xiao Longnü blushed, lowered her head in shyness, and immediately scurried off to instruct the servants to heat some water.
Before long, the inn's servants were bustling about, preparing hot water so Ye Fan could scrub away the grime and thoroughly refresh himself.
Ye Fan sat quietly in the room, waiting. He picked up the Nine Yin True Sutra and began to study it meticulously. Though he already possessed some understanding, every reading brought new insights. Every single character in the book was imbued with profound principles, and Ye Fan felt his frame of mind grow increasingly tranquil as a result.
Soon, Xiao Longnü returned with the hot water brought by the servants. She whispered softly, "Big Brother Ye, the water is ready. You can take a bath now."
Ye Fan laid down the book in his hand and smiled at Xiao Longnü. "Thank you, Long'er. Rest for a moment while I go clean up."
Xiao Longnü nodded and sat down on a nearby chair, waiting quietly. Ye Fan entered the bathroom and used the hot water to wash away the dust and exhaustion from his body. Refreshed by the bath, he felt relaxed in both body and mind, thoroughly rejuvenated.
Once he finished washing up, Ye Fan returned to the room and saw Xiao Longnü sitting by the table, seemingly lost in thought. He walked over and asked gently, "Long'er, what are you thinking about?"
Xiao Longnü raised her head, a trace of concern flashing in her eyes: "Big Brother Ye, you just went through a fierce battle—is anything hurting?"
Seeing Xiao Longnü's adorable expression, Ye Fan chuckled and said, "Well, I *am* feeling a bit uncomfortable. Come a little closer and see if I'm injured."
The moment Xiao Longnü leaned in closer, Ye Fan scooped her up in his arms and carried her straight toward the nearby bed.
"Ah!" Xiao Longnü let out a cry of surprise.