Volume One: The Wild Child Chapter Forty-Four: The Wager

The skies above Ru Zhou City had not cleared for a long time.

An uncanny atmosphere weighed heavily over the city, as if a mountain pressed upon every heart, making “freedom” a rare commodity.

In the small courtyard, Liu Qingshan furrowed his brows, still laboring over some calculations. He had been like this for days. The weather had grown cold, autumn’s chill arriving earlier than usual, and even he could not suppress a shiver. But warmth soon enveloped him. Turning, Liu Qingshan saw Lin Changtian, who had stood silently by his side for some time, draping a coat over his shoulders.

“Hey, little Lin, at least you’ve got a bit of conscience, knowing that these old bones of mine can’t stand much hardship,” Liu Qingshan’s face relaxed considerably, a joyful smile blooming. Lin Changtian shot him a glance and replied with grave sincerity, “Not really. This coat isn’t worth much. If you catch a cold, you’d need a doctor. You don’t have health insurance here, and you’re getting on in years. If your body doesn’t hold up, what then? We’d have to arrange your affairs, buy a coffin, prepare wreaths, and all sorts of trivial things. The medical bills and funeral expenses would add up to more than just giving you a coat. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Liu Qingshan nodded, then seized the opportunity, channeling his energy to deliver a thorough thrashing to Lin Changtian. “Little Lin, you see, an old man needs to exercise and keep his spirits high to stay healthy. Beating you satisfies both needs. You’re young, your skin is thick, and a few bruises are nothing compared to my medical and funeral expenses. It’s much more cost-effective!”

Lin Changtian became considerably more docile after the ordeal. Who knew what methods the old man employed? When he grabbed him, Lin felt a chill run down his spine, his energy stagnating, unable to move. Bowing to Liu Qingshan’s might, Lin Changtian went to brew a pot of hot tea and began to massage his back.

“Little Lin, do you know what I’ve been working on these days?” Liu Qingshan asked, eyes half-closed, enjoying the massage. Lin Changtian snorted, reluctant to complain lest he provoke another beating. He answered obediently, “How would I know? You’ve been obsessed with turtle shells and such, almost possessed. I don’t know, and I don’t dare ask.”

Liu Qingshan tapped his head and explained, “This is an ancient custom in the Northern Domain for divining fate. With just a few turtle shells, one can predict future changes. Isn’t that rather incredible?” Lin Changtian shook his head. If anyone else had said such a thing, he would have ignored them, but coming from Liu Qingshan, it carried undeniable credibility. “So, the sages of old could divine fate with these? That’s magical. Give me a few of your turtle shells, will you?” Lin Changtian’s face was earnest, even tinged with a desire to learn.

Seeing Lin’s expression, Liu Qingshan’s lips curved into a playful smile. “But this custom has long lost its meaning. It’s utterly useless, so now the shells are used as ritual objects for worship. Think about it, would wild turtles exist in the bitter cold of the Northern Domain? Truth is, these are leftovers from eating soft-shelled turtles. Xiao Yi Xiao saw me acting mad all day and cooked them to nourish my body. Look at you, believing every word I say.”

Lin Changtian was a bit embarrassed but quickly found another topic. “So what have you actually been doing these days?” Liu Qingshan sighed, a hint of helplessness in his voice. “Honestly, I never thought things would turn out this way. Wei Shaoqing’s methods are truly brilliant.” Lin Changtian was puzzled. Wasn’t Wei Shaoqing’s move anticipated by the elder Liu? What did he mean by this? “According to your earlier analysis, that old fox was just using an open scheme to divert disaster eastward. Was there more to it?”

Liu Qingshan’s expression turned grave. He paused for a long moment before speaking slowly. “Think about it. Since Wei Shaoqing has broken away from Ru Zhou’s leadership, when the Lin clan’s army presses in, will the ten elders and seven clans just watch the Wei family thrive alone? But here’s the issue: In recent days, the Wei clan has dissipated their entire fortune, relinquishing all spheres of influence—a century-old foundation destroyed in an instant. This isn’t like Wei Shaoqing at all. The only explanation is that he’s certain the Lin clan will conquer Ru Zhou within a month. When the powers are reevaluated, benefits redistributed, his credentials and prior non-resistance will guarantee him a seat at the table—perhaps even in the lead. Do you believe it?”

Lin Changtian’s palms were slick with sweat, which he wiped on Liu Qingshan’s coat, hesitating. “The Lin clan has never acted according to any rule. How could Wei Shaoqing know they’d employ the old nobility after conquering Ru Zhou? Besides, is he so sure the Lin clan can defeat the Northern Emperor? Traditionally, when facing foreign threats, the Wen Yuan Divine Continent stands united—one clan against one domain. How could he presume otherwise?”

Liu Qingshan, instead of growing agitated, became calm, his face serene. “It’s a gamble. That man’s courage is immense, and his ambition greater still. He must have realized that the previous plot was the Northern Emperor’s doing. So, rather than forever be someone else’s dog, he’d rather risk it all, trading a century of ancestral fortune for a legitimate noble title. Besides, if the Lin leadership keeps their wits and avoids repeating the massacre of Central Zhou that brought condemnation from all, all they need to do is win over the local nobility outside of war, and their rule becomes much easier. Wen Yuan Divine Continent is now divided among four emperors, each harboring their own schemes. Wei Shaoqing is betting they’ll watch from the sidelines. Then, it won’t be one domain against one clan, but a fierce tiger watching a barking house dog. Still, one misstep and all is lost. But unfortunately for us, this time, Wei Shaoqing has won.”

At the gates of Ru Zhou, the guards were lax. Rumor had it the Lin clan’s army stationed at the border was withdrawing, which everyone hoped for. The intelligence, hard-won at the cost of countless lives, was dismissed as mere rumor.

“Life’s pretty sweet. Look at this weather. Tonight, I’ll take my wife and kids out for hotpot—delightful!” Some crafty soldiers were already planning to leave early. These old hands knew the drill: let the higher-ups deal with the crisis. Even on the eve of battle, they remained unruffled. Ru Zhou had always been a coveted prize—a strategic hotspot, but never a site of slaughter. Each change of rule saw efforts to win hearts and minds, so the people grew accustomed to servitude, knowing that even with a new master, they could keep living in peace.

Yet, the dusk fell oddly, as if painted by human hands.

“Enemy attack!” With a shrill cry, sudden artillery fire swept across Ru Zhou. A meteor streaked across the sky, a lone rider leading countless armored soldiers. In a flash, Ru Zhou fell.

Death had come to claim souls.

Like a knight chosen by heaven descending upon the world, in just a few breaths, Ru Zhou’s defenses were reduced to rubble. The veteran guards, despite their camaraderie, were utterly powerless against the superior teamwork. Summoning their last courage, each unfurled the white flag they carried, waving it desperately, but the knights’ assault did not cease. Their firepower roared on—after all, who cares whether the ants beneath their feet are crushed?

Citizens of Ru Zhou fled in terror. The knights’ code did not extend to civilians. Countless lives were swept away by death’s whisper, as light as a feather.

So, the rumor had finally come true, ruining everyone’s mood.

In the courtyard, Liu Qingshan’s face had turned ashen. Grabbing Lin Changtian by the collar, he roared, “Did you not see what time it is? How could you let those two youngsters go out alone?” Lin Changtian broke free, said nothing more, and rushed out with his blade. “Elder Liu, wait here in the courtyard for them. I’ll go search.”

...

Ru Zhou’s three defensive lines had already lost two. The Zhou clan’s bio-mechs, armed with Lin clan’s genetically modified soldiers, had birthed a demon army, sweeping aside all resistance. The city’s conventional forces were no match—defeated in an instant. Soon, Lin’s forces surged into Ru Zhou’s heart, advancing toward its final dignity—the ten elders and seven clans.

But here, the demons met their most formidable foes.

Some had joked that the other four domains’ technological weapons were decades ahead of Wen Yuan Divine Continent. But others argued that Wen Yuan’s realm-walkers outnumbered those of the other domains combined.

Of course, both claims were exaggerations, yet today, the Lin clan’s army was stunned to find the latter was not without merit.

Before the tallest building, realm-walkers gathered.

There were standard warriors from the ten elders and seven clans, as well as reclusive masters who usually scorned one another, but today, all stood united to face the demons at their doorstep.

The lone rider who had breached the city opened his realm weapon—it was none other than Xie Daoyun, the Lin clan’s son-in-law who had defied Lin Su in the command tent and, at a critical moment, led a surprise attack against the Zhou clan, bringing the battle to its conclusion.

Xie Daoyun frowned at the mass of realm-walkers ahead, feeling vexed. He thought to himself, “How could the intelligence department miss this? So many realm-walkers in Ru Zhou, not a word mentioned. Forget persuading them to surrender—there’s no choice but a fight to the death.”

Complaints aside, he still had to speak the customary words before battle.