Dragon Canon

As they returned to the domain, Hsu Yi felt a bit uneasy and asked, “Did I cause trouble?”

“No, what trouble could you possibly cause?”

“When I was arguing with the envoy, I shouldn’t have mentioned that I’m from the Hsu Clan, and I certainly shouldn’t have told them my name.”

The fact that Hsu Yi had thought of this herself saved Wei Yuan the trouble of explaining.

In truth, even if Hsu Yi had revealed her identity, it wouldn’t have been a big deal. She was, after all, the daughter of a distinguished clan. Never mind something as trivial as colluding with horse bandits, even if she had killed someone, as long as she could come up with even the slightest plausible excuse, she wouldn’t have to face the death penalty. If the victim was a commoner, she wouldn’t even need an excuse; she could simply pay compensation and settle the matter, and the amount wouldn’t be much.

On the way here, Wei Yuan had been pondering the purpose behind Yuan Qingyan’s dispatch of an envoy. After much deliberation, he concluded that the most likely scenario was that the commandery administrator intended to frame him for a crime. If he couldn’t resist striking back, it would play right into Yuan Qingyan’s hands.

The realm stone was erected by Wei Yuan. As the realm lord, Wei Yuan should have been the de facto commandery administrator for a hundred years. Only after a hundred years, or if the realm lord himself had transferred his title to another, would the commandery administrator be replaced. When the time came, the royal court would appoint a new commandery administrator, and the territory would officially be returned to Great Tang.

This was a long-standing custom of the dynasty: the founder of a new realm retained exclusive rights to its profits for the first hundred years. After a century, when an ordinary realm stone had matured and no lingered required a realm lord, the territory would be returned to Great Tang.

However, the establishment of Qingming represented too much profit, so much so that the King of Jin himself couldn’t resist getting a piece of the action. If Wei Yuan had merely been a disciple of a small sect, the matter could have been settled with a simple takeover. However, he was a cherished disciple of the Palace of Absolute Beginning, who also caught the eye of an Immortal Lord—thus, he could not be dealt with lightly.

If the King of Jin wished to take Wei Yuan down, he would need to find a plausible excuse. This was why the likes of Niu Jinbao and Yuan Qingyan were appointed.

As for why Yuan Qingyan had sent an envoy to provoke a confrontation, that was because the envoy was a scapegoat. His job was to pin charges on Wei Yuan on the commandery administrator’s behalf. This way, he wouldn’t have to suffer the same fate as Niu Jinbao.

The moment Wei Yuan realized this, he immediately ordered his men to catch up with the envoy’s delegation and eliminate them all.

It wasn’t just a simple killing either. All their armor and weapons would be transported back to the realm for centralized disposal, while the bodies would be dumped into a small lake to the northwest. The lake lay beyond the realm’s boundary, meaning that it was teeming with countless bloodthirsty, ferocious creatures. Two hundred bodies sounded like a lot, but the animals would devour it all in less than an hour, leaving not a single trace behind.

If Yuan Qingyan wanted to pin charges on him, then Wei Yuan would ensure there were no witnesses left to testify against him.

From now on, not a single envoy sent to the realm of Qingming would be allowed to return alive. Take that envoy from earlier, for instance. His eyes might have been gouged out, and his tongue was cut off, but there were Dao spells capable of healing such injuries. Even if he died, as long as a wisp of his soul remained in the body—or if someone in the delegation possessed the means to retrieve that wisp—they could still extract valuable information upon returning. All these would serve as eyewitness testimony.

That was why Wei Yuan planned to kill all of them. This way, Yuan Qingyan would have neither eyewitnesses nor physical evidence to use against him.

But of course, this was merely a temporary solution; it didn’t address the root of the problem. For instance, if Wei Yuan was in Yuan Qingyan’s shoes, he wouldn’t even bother sending an envoy. He would simply pick a few subordinates he had had his eyes on, kill them, leave their bodies outside the realm of Qingming, claim that Wei Yuan was responsible, and report it directly.

From the start until the end, the process didn’t require any involvement from the realm of Qingming. Thus, it wouldn’t encounter any interference either.

If Wei Yuan felt wronged, he could simply take the matter up with the King of Jin. Whatever happened after that was none of Yuan Qingyan’s business.

The charges were easy to deal with, but the same could not be said for Yuan Qingyan’s scheme of blocking the grain supply lines. It had struck Wei Yuan right at his weak spot. Despite pondering it over and over, he was unable to come up with a viable solution.

Truth be told, the history books had taught him various ways to resolve grain shortages. It was just that, unless absolutely necessary, Wei Yuan did not want to use them.

Upon returning to the central peak, Wei Yuan asked Hsu Yi if she had let off some steam. The young woman blushed slightly and gave him a small nod. Then, she ran away like a startled rabbit.

Wei Yuan then left the central peak and sought out Sun Yu.

In just a few days, Sun Yu’s courtyard had expanded considerably. It was now a five-courtyard compound[1]. The healer had also carved out a garden where he had transplanted dozens of plant species from the western regions.

A new pond had been dug in the courtyard, where more than a dozen animals of various colors swam. Only three of them resembled fishes; the rest were odd-shaped creatures that looked ferocious at first glance.

The pond of fish and strange creatures seemed to co-exist peacefully, each one lazing about and moving only once in a while. But in Wei Yuan’s eyes, they were all shrouded in a thick, dark green aura—as it turned out, they were all spirit animals. The air between them was thick with killing intent, and each one was cautiously searching for a weakness in the others.

Sun Yu stepped out of his room, carrying a large piece of pork. He then casually tossed it into the fish pond.

A towering splash suddenly erupted from the pond, and countless figures could be seen darting back and forth like lightning. The piece of pork began to vanish at an unbelievable rate, bones and all!

As the water settled, the dozen or so aquatic creatures returned to their peaceful state. Had he not witnessed what just happened with his own eyes, Wei Yuan would never have believed that these creatures had torn apart and devoured a large piece of pork in less than a breath’s time. Never mind ordinary animals—even a cultivator at the peak of the Body-tempering stage would probably face certain doom if they fell into this pond.

Sun Yu was busy treating patients every day, so Wei Yuan had no idea where he had managed to get these creatures from.

Upon seeing Wei Yuan, the healer wiped his hands and asked, “What brings you here?”

“There’s a matter of great importance that I’d like to ask for your help, Senior Uncle Sun.”

Hearing this, Sun Yu invited Wei Yuan inside. Once they were properly seated, Wei Yuan explained the current food shortage and asked Sun Yu if he had any solutions.

The healer replied, “The best solution, of course, is to grow our own grain—specifically, the varieties native to the western regions. Over the past few days, I’ve been studying the medicinal herbs native to this region, and in the process, I’ve also examined the properties of the local spirit plants. Some medicinal herbs and grains really share just a hair’s breadth apart from one another. Unfortunately, the living environments of the Shamans and the humans differ too much. Certain toxins universally present in all things within this world are essential for Shamans, but are lethal poison to humans.”

Sun Yu had attempted to transplant over a dozen varieties of medicinal herbs into the realm to observe how they would adapt. However, it had only been a short time since he started this experiment, and it would be a long time yet before any results were evident.

After discussing the matter with Sun Yu for a while, Wei Yuan learned that humans had generally dealt with food issues by transforming the local environment to cultivate human crops. Unfortunately, no one had succeeded in transplanting any of the Shamans’ food sources so far.

Humans imported large quantities of medicinal herbs from the Shamans each year; some of which were considered immortal elixirs. But what they truly sought were the unique toxic properties and the worldly origin qi contained within them.

As for animals, there were actually more options available. Several species of frogs and fishes were barely edible, but the most readily available—and the safest to consume—was, in fact, a palm-sized beetle. It was the same kind Wei Yuan had often seen in Willow Ash Town. The locals liked to roast them before eating them.

Sun Yu’s initial motivation for transplanting medicinal herbs and raising vicious fishes and beasts was not to find better medicines, but to search for potent toxins to prepare for his future revenge.

As the conversation continued, Wei Yuan discovered that the Dao Foundations of the lineage Sun Yu belonged to were all, to some extent, related to medicine. For instance, Sun Yu’s Dao Foundation took the form of a pill furnace; any pill that was processed by his Dao Foundation would significantly grow in potency. However, if someone thought that Sun Yu was weak in combat because his Dao Foundation was medicinal-related, they would be sorely mistaken.

Sun Yu’s Dao Foundation could be broken down into three parts: the pill fire, the pill furnace, and the pills within the furnace. They all had their own unique uses. The pill fire was infused with poisons Sun Yu had spent years to refine. It was especially adept at destroying Dao Foundations. The pill furnace packed a powerful punch when used as a blunt instrument. Finally, the pills in the furnace, beneficial or toxic, could take on the appearance of rare, legendary pills, complete with intricate pill patterns and profound pill essences. It could practically fool anyone and everyone.

There were currently many capable fighters in the realm, so Sun Yu wasn’t needed on the battlefield just yet. Otherwise, many enemies would have met a most miserable end.

Wei Yuan visited Sun Yu today wasn’t out of hope that his few-days-old experiments had produced results, but rather to explore another possibility.

He said with a grave expression, “Tell me honestly. Should the worst-case scenario occur, and we have absolutely nothing left to eat, what should we do?”

Sun Yu stayed silent for a moment before asking, “Do you really want me to say it?”

Wei Yuan nodded.

Sun Yu sat up straight and pointed beyond the courtyard where the corpse field lay. Although the corpse field was currently empty because the bodies of the Shamans had already been cleared away, Wei Yuan still understood exactly what he meant.

Sun Yu said, “I’ve studied all the Shamans’ species, and among them, the venom lizards are the least useful. Not only is its whole body laced with potent venom, it carries various fatal diseases that, once activated, are incurable. Next is the ordinary Shaman fighters. Very few parts of their body are useful, but some of the internal organs—such as the liver—are usable. The best sources are the warlocks and the Great Warlock’s personal guards; almost all of their internal organs are usable, and their brains are particularly nourishing.”

This conclusion took Wei Yuan somewhat by surprise; he had originally assumed that the order would be reversed. However, since Sun Yu was an authority on this field, he easily accepted the conclusion.

Sun Yu said meaningfully, “There’s no such thing as a war without casualties. From the perspective of heaven and earth, all beings are equal, and all those who do not become immortals are just ants. With all that said, the animal that offers the most usable parts is, naturally, humans.”

Wei Yuan fell silent for a moment before asking, “Is that really our only option?”

“There is another method that can temporarily alleviate the crisis, but it only treats the symptoms, not the root cause.”

“Please, tell me.” Wei Yuan felt that they were at a point where they must grasp at every straw.

Sun Yu explained, “It so happens that I’ve just come across several potent herbs that can be combined to create a special sedative. A single drop is enough to render hundreds or even thousands of mortals unconscious, and it will put them under for several days at the minimum. A person’s energy expenditure is minimal when they are unconscious. If we truly run out of food, we can gather those who aren’t needed for the time being and have them take the sedative. That way, we can hold out for at least ten more days.”

“How much of this sedative do we have, and will there be any consequences from taking it?”

“As of now, I cannot say. I can tell you that the few people who’ve tried it are still alive. As for the quantity, I just need to brew a few furnaces to knock out tens of thousands of people.”

Wei Yuan’s brows relaxed; this was the first piece of good news he had heard in the past two days.

Noticing Wei Yuan’s expression, Sun Yu asked, “Are we really going to run out of food?”

“It’s not certain yet, but our enemies have already cut off all our supply lines. I have to prepare for the worst.”

After leaving Sun Yu’s residence, Wei Yuan took another look at the Liang rice fields before returning to the central peak. In truth, he knew there was one other place with food supplies: Western Jin’s military camps.

WeiYuan unfolded the map and slowly drew two lines that ultimately converged behind Willow Ash Town, encircling the town in its entirety.

If it truly came down to starvation, Wei Yuan was by no means a rigid or narrow-minded man. He would rather lead a hundred thousand people to their deaths on the battlefield than let them starve to death.

Should such a time ever come, Wei Yuan would show Yuan Qingyan just how many gaps existed in his defense line of thousands of li. He would also show him exactly how brutal the real battlefield was. The reason a mad dog was mad, was simply because it hadn’t been beaten hard enough.

1. Okay, I was hoping to avoid explaining this but that option is now gone. >_> Generally speaking, the residence/estate of a wealthy traditional Chinese household is a “courtyard”. It usually has a front yard and a backyard, but the whole thing is usually described as a courtyard. Sun Yu lives in a 五进的院子, which translated literally is “a courtyard with five entrances”. What this actually means, is that it is a residence with five entrances—one main entrance and four smaller entrances—and five enclosed or separate courtyards. All things considered, I believe that “five-courtyard compound” is the best translation for this, because a five-entrance courtyard doesn’t properly describe how big it really is.