Volume One: The Wild Boy Chapter Sixty-Five: Yu Baili's Secret

The smoke in the tent had grown thin, perhaps because so many had left that there was no one to tend the firewood. Zhang Yi raised his blade a few feet, its edge still keen. Lin Changtian stood with his hands behind his back, showing no intention of battle; he could not detect any murderous aura in the blade.

“If you have something to say, speak now. Too much silence, and my men will barge in,” Lin Changtian stretched lazily, warming his hands by the brazier.

Zhang Yi shook his head, tossed down his knife, and forced a bitter smile. “You’re not like them, there’s no point in hiding anything from you. Where should I begin?”

Lin Changtian stepped up to the commander’s seat, gesturing outside the tent, his voice impassive: “I simply haven’t spent as much time with you, so I never considered you a comrade. Naturally, I don’t harbor the same bone-deep hatred as Kui Sheng and the others, whose trust was all transformed into fury.”

The vast tent felt lonely and cold, the air filled with a quiet so profound that the drop of a pin might stir a storm.

That pin was indeed disturbed.

Zhang Yi sat below the commander’s seat, a bit uneasy; truthfully, what he was about to say was far more shocking than any action during his coup.

“Then I’ll trouble you to be a bystander and listen to the tale of Zhang Yi.” Lin Changtian met his gaze, nodded, and indicated he should go on. “Fate—such things—back in the Northern Territories, no one believed in them, myself included.”

Lin Changtian unsheathed his blade, halting Zhang Yi’s ramblings, and said, “If it were before, you and I could sit on the ground and talk about these fanciful things for days until our hearts were content. Now, however, you don’t have much time left to save your life.”

“Fine! Then let’s discuss something that might let me live a bit longer. Honestly, do I look like a fool?” Zhang Yi brushed aside Lin Changtian’s long blade, his expression solemn.

Lin Changtian’s eyes flickered mischievously—what a gift, someone inviting a scolding! He replied earnestly, “How should I put it? It’s not unrelated; in fact, it’s exactly the same. The fact this comes from your mouth, Zhang Yi, is already somewhat problematic. What, spent too much time with Yu Baili in the Northern Territories and caught his stupidity?”

Zhang Yi was silent for a long while, ignoring Lin Changtian’s unconventional responses, following his own script: “I’m certainly no fool, so why…”

“No, you are,” Lin Changtian interrupted, grave as a physician pronouncing a diagnosis. “I am not a fool.”

“No, you most certainly are. Who else would be so foolish as to give up a great position to risk losing his head?”

“Let me finish, and you’ll know why Zhang Yi did what he did, branded by all as a traitor.”

“Very well, speak.”

---

“First, I am certainly no fool. So why…”

“No, you are.”

…

“How dare you insult me!” After endless repetition, Zhang Yi could no longer contain his fury, raised his blade and charged at Lin Changtian. Yet Lin Changtian barely moved; a flick of his wrist, and Zhang Yi’s blade shattered into fragments, clattering to the ground.

The strength of a realm weapon was incomparable to ordinary blades.

Lin Changtian rested the remaining half of his black blade against Zhang Yi’s neck, grinning slyly: “My blade is a rare treasure. It was broken into two back in Zhou City by an old bastard. Otherwise, it wouldn't be just your blade that’s broken now.”

Zhang Yi held back his rage, his complexion shifting from red to blue to pale, glaring at Lin Changtian. “Yu Baili once instructed me to temper your temper, to serve as a stepping stone for your success, but today, seeing your skill at living, I doubt there are many in the Northern Territories who could match you.”

“What else could Yu Baili ask of you? Surely not for you to rebel and lead a bunch of traitors to destroy the order he worked so hard to build?” Lin Changtian spoke carelessly, but his expression was no longer relaxed—he seemed to sense something amiss.

At those words, Zhang Yi nodded, his expression complex. “You may not know, but after Yu Baili, nearly all matters in the stronghold were entrusted to me. Kui Sheng’s swordwork was taught by me, and his prowess in commanding troops was learned from me. The first was too rough to be of use, but the second—he’s a prodigy. With such favor and status, even a heartless dog would never bite the hand that feeds him!”

“But you are a wolf, Zhang Yi.” Lin Changtian lowered his broken blade, calm. “You betrayed Yu Wenlong, abandoned allies at Sishan, and your long-serving subordinates died for your ambition. Not to mention the innocent brothers from Yishan—the tens of thousands of corpses lining the north of Sishan, that’s all because of you. Even now, the soil there is stained red. And don’t forget, I watched it all from the sidelines.”

Zhang Yi smiled, his voice weak in the face of memories. “You, Lin Changtian, understand human nature best. I was born with a wolf’s ambition! But today, I must speak my piece. The brothers of Yishan, I owe them a debt I can never repay. The men of Sishan, who forgave all and made me their general, fighting side by side—I can never repay their kindness in a lifetime. As for the three from beyond the frontier—one, a fierce general trained by my own hand, yet now I’m ashamed to call Kui Sheng my disciple; another, Brother Xu Yong, who risked his life to save me and lives with those scars to this day; and Chen Ziliang, whose long spear sealed the mouths of those who doubted me when I could not command respect. These brothers’ kindness, I could never repay, even if I spent my next life as a beast of burden. All this is my sin, and I repent in hell, even if it’s for all eternity, I have no complaint! Yet even if my soul suffers endless cold in the nine hells, I dare say, you and Yu Baili owe me just as much!”

Lin Changtian snorted coldly, his broken blade raised once more, murderous intent flaring. “Whatever dealings Yu Baili had with you, that’s his business. If he won’t tell me, I won’t ask. But today, you must explain—I've been in the Central Lands for a year, what could I possibly owe you in this Sishan, from north to south?”

Zhang Yi walked toward the blade’s tip, fearless, his voice filled with bitter indignation. “Yu Baili has reached the realm of Taixu—a realm master, you must know what that means! In an instant, he commands the heavens; the mysteries are revealed, the Dao belongs to mankind. Such power! With a single spell, he let my mortal eyes see fate itself, even foreseeing your journey to the Northern Territories! But you were right about one thing—I don’t bow to anyone. Heaven decreed that in the battle of Changqiao Mountain, my reckless advance would harm Brother Xu Yong; fine, I’ll take the rearguard duty. But as you know, it only led to me being surrounded and Xu Yong forced to return a thousand miles to rescue me!”

At some point, that broken blade had fallen to the ground, shrouded in mist.

“He naturally saw the fate tied to someone, but as a mortal, how could I grasp the thoughts of such beings? I only understand two things: first, someone had to rebel, to stir the Northern Territories into chaos again. Second, all consequences rest on you, Lin Changtian. Rather than let someone else lead the rebellion and risk my brothers’ lives, I, Zhang Yi, would do it myself! In the end, it was all to pave the way for you, Lin Changtian.” Zhang Yi shook his head, half mad, laughing, cursing, sometimes sitting, sometimes standing. The rest became incoherent, as if the heavens had punished him for revealing too much.

---

Lin Changtian grew bewildered, increasingly agitated, even resentful. He wanted to tear the crazed Zhang Yi into pieces, rage burning through his chest. In the darkness, it seemed someone whispered in his ear—tempting, pleading, cursing, threatening.

He was losing control, so he sat cross-legged, and in that haze, a clarity arose among the shadows, like an alien presence.

The evil thoughts on the verge of breaking free melted away like snow in sunlight, inch by inch, finally returning with their rage and unwillingness to the deep, narrow abyss.

Along with the clearing of malice, there was a faint sense of immortal blessing hovering behind Lin Changtian.

In a flash, Zhang Yi regained his calm. His smile was tinged with sorrow as he picked up the blade and handed it back to Lin Changtian, full of resentment but utterly content. “Lin Changtian, you say my ambition paved a road of bones for ten thousand comrades. One day, you’ll know how many will die for you, without even a chance at reincarnation. But don’t weep, nor make childish excuses. All this is illusion; only the fate decreed by heaven is worthy of your wrath.”

The footsteps outside the tent grew noisy. It seemed many had gathered at the entrance, Kui Sheng’s voice booming: “Brother Lin, has something gone wrong?”

Before Lin Changtian could answer, Zhang Yi threw back his head and laughed, crashed into the blade’s tip, then shoved Lin Changtian aside, staggered back, turned to face the crowd rushing in, and pointed a thumb at Lin Changtian, his tone full of admiration: “I, Zhang Yi, always thought myself fierce, but never expected to meet Commander Lin—what skill! To fall to your hand is worth it!”

With that, he died, his eyes shut tight, as if satisfied, his death without regret.

The crowd stood in stunned silence; Qi Yong was the first to raise his sword, kneeling with all his strength and shouting, “Commander Lin is mighty! Purge Sishan of traitors!” As soon as his voice faded, others followed.

Perhaps only Lin Changtian understood how “wronged” Zhang Yi’s death was.

Fortunately, in the end, what he couldn’t let go of was no longer his wild ambition, but had been replaced by the faces of a few young men just starting out in life.