Tome of Troubled Times-Chapter 785 (2): Sealing Langjuxu

While Lie and Tngri conversed, Zhao Changhe and his group ignored them entirely, moving at full speed to lift Li Shentong. He activated his Rejuvenation Art with reckless abandon, pouring all his energy into Li Shentong’s battered body.

Half-conscious from his injuries, Li Shentong stirred as the intense energy coursed through him, slowly dragging him back from the brink. He frowned slightly, attempting to push himself up from Zhao Changhe’s embrace only to find himself too weak to even move.

Zhao Changhe pressed him down and said, “Moving will make you bleed out. Stay still and circulate your energy. You won’t die.”

Li Shentong remained quiet, sensing his own condition. His left arm had been completely severed. His left chest was nearly cleaved open, just shy of reaching his heart. And these were only the visible wounds.

In truth, the battle at this level was never just about external injuries. Tngri’s power had wreaked havoc inside him. His organs were in utter disarray, his meridians completely severed, and his dantian shattered beyond repair. He was utterly crippled.

And yet, he was Li Shentong.

He had tempered his body to near-perfection, refined it, trained it to endure both internal and external forces. That was the only reason he was still alive. Had it been any other martial artist, even one of equal cultivation, they would have died on the spot.

Zhao Changhe’s Rejuvenation Art continued its work, nourishing what remained. Li Shentong knew that with Zhao Changhe’s miraculous healing abilities, his life would be saved, but he did not know if anything beyond that was possible.

By conventional martial knowledge, such wounds could never fully recover. He would be confined to a sickbed for the rest of his life. But in this current age of gods and demons, certainty was hard to come by.

“...I never thought I’d end up like the old Daoist... Even now, he’s only recovered to the Profound Gate Realm. I’ll probably be even worse off; I’ll probably only end up as an ordinary cripple.” Then, as if amused by something, Li Shentong laughed outright. “You probably think I was his lifelong friend, don’t you? You’re wrong. The truth is, I’ve been at odds with that old bastard for over thirty years. We fought bitterly back in the day. Our grudge was no small thing. Even now, we’re not exactly friends.”

Zhao Changhe was momentarily stunned. “Huh?”

If you said that you were enemies in the past but you’ve since become friends, that would be understandable. But to say you still aren’t friends? Ask anyone under heaven and they’d confidently claim that you’re sworn brothers who are willing to entrust their very lives to each other!

“The old Daoist follows the path of softness, while I tread the path of hardness. He avoids slaughter, while my heart is steeped in bloodshed. Our philosophies have always clashed. Even now, we refuse to submit to each other, so how could we possibly be friends?” Li Shentong gave a weak smile. “But maybe our temperaments are different from most. We refuse to yield to each other, yet we admire each other’s character. We just want to make the other submit... That time, he asked you to bring me his wine. That was actually a challenge. He was asking if I could brew something like that. That elegant, flowing clarity, carrying within it the violent undercurrents of blood and fire... Damn it, I couldn’t. I lost.”

Zhao Changhe: “...”

“But losing that bet was nothing. He restrains villains to keep Kunlun at peace. I led an uprising to protect the people of Bashu. Obviously, I won that one. His gentle methods weren’t worth shit. Those bastards were cowards, as spineless as an octopus. Only by rolling heads could we carve out a new order.”

Zhao Changhe nodded. “True.”

“I even considered leading my forces to break Kunlun, slaughter that nest of villains, and drag the old Daoist out of Yuxu Palace, then step on the so-called Dao Lord and grind him into the dirt.”

“...”

“But where I truly lost... was in the Imperial Ancestral Temple, in the battle to slay the dragon.” Li Shentong’s smile faded, his voice lowering as he continued, “The old Daoist severed Beimang’s vein with his ability to observe qi, yet he refused to join the siege to kill the emperor. I thought he was trying to have it both ways, playing the whore while still setting up a memorial for chastity. At that point, what was the use of keeping his eyes on Timur? Could he really watch him forever? But afterward, I was utterly humiliated...”

He took a deep breath, his voice laced with frustration, “I never imagined that behind the seemingly righteous uprising of the Central Plains’ heroes, there were foreign hands at play. Even Bo’e was lurking among us. What we believed to be a just cause turned us into nothing more than a blade wielded by the hands of the Grasslands. And the emperor we despised... in that moment, he became the last line of defense for the dynasty. He became the true righteous faction. And me? I became a fucking idiot. What kind of bullshit was that? That damned old Daoist saw through it all. He let me walk right into the trap, and I fell for it. I lost completely. I was humiliated deeply. Do you know that if you hadn’t come to Bashu to seek my help, I would’ve gone to that battle myself, even without being asked?”

Zhao Changhe spoke softly, “Honestly, the reason I invited you was because I had sensed... a bit of that sentiment. But I never understood why you had to risk your life so recklessly. The situation hadn’t reached that point.”

“I knew it wasn’t necessary... but at that moment, my blood boiled over. I wanted to fight. So what? It was the most direct, effective method, and it left the least room for variables... Consider it repaying my debt to Xia Longyuan, if you will.”

“...”

“He used to mock me, saying I couldn’t govern a land, that I’d be worse at it than him... So what? If I can’t rule, I can entrust it to someone who can, can’t I?” Li Shentong suddenly burst into laughter. “I thought to myself, this time I’m definitely going to die. When I get to the underworld, I’ll grab that damned emperor by his dragon robe and ask him, ‘How does it feel now? I rose for justice! Can you laugh at me now? You never deserved that throne in the first place!’”

Zhao Changhe said solemnly, “Senior, you did indeed lead a righteous uprising.”

Li Shentong glanced at him askance. “And you... Don’t you realize that my death would actually benefit you? Yet here you are, draining your own cultivation to save my life. For what? Your two women are both injured, sitting over there healing themselves, and you haven’t even asked about them. Are you insane? I mean, I know I’m insane, but you too?”

Zhao Changhe spoke calmly, “I once told Senior Yuxu that heroes should not live short lives. He was one, and so are you. Whether or not either of you can recover your cultivation fully, if yesterday’s heroes can tomorrow find peace as simple fishermen and woodcutters, it will be the good fortune of this land.”

Li Shentong fell silent for a moment, then smiled faintly.

Zhao Changhe continued, “Senior, if you still wish to ask Old Xia those questions, you can do so now.”

Li Shentong was momentarily stunned and asked, “How?”

“This is the highest peak in Mobei, a place tainted with a strange divinity due to the presence of the Temple of Tngri. Though I severed the qi veins with my blade, I could not erase the mountain’s divine essence. The altar at the summit connects to the heavens above and the underworld below. If Old Xia’s yin soul still lingers, he will hear you.”

Li Shentong’s lips curved slightly. “It sounds to me like you just want an excuse to perform an offering to the heavens.”

Zhao Changhe exhaled, weariness evident as he finally paused his application of the Rejuvenation Art. Even in exhaustion, his face bore a sense of lightness, as if something had been lifted from him. “Yes... On this mountain, to hold a ritual and honor the heavens, to seal this achievement, is something I hold as sacred.”

As he spoke, his fingers flicked Dragon Bird’s blade.

Lie had long since left. Yue Hongling and Huangfu Qing were still tending to their injuries. And as for Tngri, he had been left completely unattended, because he looked rather dead. But in truth, he was not. Seizing a quiet moment to recover, Tngri suddenly made his move, attempting to flee.

But at that precise instant, Zhao Changhe poked Dragon Bird awake.

Dragon Bird roared to life, sweeping backward in a furious arc. Tngri, who had only a sliver of life remaining, was horrified; he instinctively raised his arms to defend, but how could he possibly block a divine weapon that had never unleashed its true might until now?

A young and angry girl swung the saber in a vengeful strike, slicing through his neck with unstoppable force.

Fresh blood spewed forth as Tngri’s throat turned into a geyser of blood. The headless divine body stood silently amidst the thunder and lightning.

The saber of the Central Plains’s strongest emperor had finally fulfilled its most fated purpose.

Even in his final moments, Tngri could not comprehend it... Zhao Changhe was utterly drained, his energy exhausted. He should not have had any awareness left to sense his movement, so how had he known?

Zhao Changhe slowly stood up, gripping Tngri’s severed head before reclaiming Dragon Bird.

From outside, Xue Canghai’s voice rang out, “Careful! That’s Bo’e!“

Zhao Changhe did not hesitate. He leaped out of the rift from within the secret realm, emerging atop the mountain’s peak. Below, Bo’e and his forces had been charging up the mountain, attempting to aid their revered god. But before they could even reach said god, Zhao Changhe emerged, standing tall against the sky. He then raised Tngri’s severed head high for all to see.

Bo’e and the Protectors of the Divine Temple came to an abrupt halt. They stared in stunned disbelief at the head held high in the air in Zhao Changhe’s grasp.

None of them dared believe it. Tngri had perished before them.

“There is no such thing as Tngri nor Eternal Blue Sky,” Zhao Changhe’s voice was calm, carrying across the mountain. “The sky above belongs to all beneath it, to you and me in equal measure. Behold, your god is dead. Has the sky collapsed upon you?”

He turned slowly, walking toward the altar at the peak as though intending to place Tngri’s severed head upon it.

Bo’e let out a piercing shriek, drawing his scimitar in a sudden, desperate strike aimed at Zhao Changhe’s back.

Zhao Changhe did not even flinch. Meanwhile, from the rift below, flames roared, and the cry of a phoenix echoed through the air. A sharp spear lanced upward through Bo’e’s path, piercing cleanly through his back before he could land his strike.

Huangfu Qing let out a soft sigh. “I was planning to come for you anyway. Our positions are somewhat parallel. But since you’ve already chosen to die...”

Her voice trailed off. Bo’e had indeed chosen death. He no longer had a reason to live. His faith had utterly collapsed, and Vermillion Bird could somewhat understand what that felt like.

There was no sense of achievement in killing someone who had already given up. She killed him because there was no other choice, but she did not rejoice in it.

Zhao Changhe paid no mind to the scene behind him. He ascended to the altar, placing Tngri’s severed head upon it.

At that moment, a breeze swept across the Grasslands. Everyone, no matter where they were, whether they were north or south of the Gobi, suddenly felt something shift. As one, all of them turned their gazes toward the Sacred Mountain.

It was as if the qi veins across the entire region converged, then began to shift. Above, the faint image of a wolf’s head began to dissipate, replaced by the soaring form of a dragon rising toward the highest heaven[1].

On the slopes of the mountain, the Divine Temple’s soldiers and cavalry, who had been standing in stunned silence, slowly fell to their knees.

In the blink of an eye, the entire mountainside was covered in kneeling figures—lost, bloodstained, and utterly spiritless.

Zhao Changhe’s voice spread across the Sacred Mountain, echoing far and wide, “The three armies of the Great Han shall hold a ritual at this mountain. Let it be known across the Grasslands that all tribes are to present themselves here within seven days. Any who fail to appear... shall be annihilated.”

1. The wolf head is in reference to Langjuxu, of which Lang (狼) is wolf. ☜