Chapter 255: Behind Enemy Lines

Chapter 255: Behind Enemy Lines

In the tavern, Cui Yuanyong invited Zhao Changhe to dine. They had intended to discuss serious matters, but with the Chaos Chronicle’s broadcast, the conversation naturally turned to this.

“Who would have thought a figure from the Earth Rankings would fall here? If not for the Chaos Chronicle’s announcement, no one would have known—such a strong man, dying in utter silence.” Cui Yuanyong sighed with some regret. “What was he doing in the Central Plains? No one would have known if not told.”

Zhao Changhe said, “He came to the Central Plains to stir trouble, aiming to provoke the Wang family into open rebellion—not only to plunge the Central Plains into greater chaos but also to drain the troops from Yanmen. For the barbarians, it would have been a significant act of sabotage behind enemy lines during wartime. But then something unexpected happened…”

“What unexpected thing?”

“The Wang family still understands righteousness. Wang Daozhong personally struck and wounded He Lei. Knowing the plan was doomed, he turned back.”

Cui Yuanyong stared at him expressionlessly, while Zhao Changhe drank his wine as if nothing were amiss.

Cui Yuanyong was not without information. He silently pieced things together in his mind, marveling inwardly.

So, it was Zhao Changhe who had quietly quelled a storm. Framing Wang Daozhong was a stroke of genius—seemingly a casual remark, yet its influence was profound. Not only did it thwart the barbarians’ schemes, but it also sealed off any potential collusion between the Wang family and the barbarians.

Come to think of it, Zhao Changhe had also disrupted the Wang family’s ties with the Maitreya Sect, killing the sect’s envoy right at the Wang family’s doorstep…

Later, at Sword Lake City, wasn’t He Lei’s exposure also because of Zhao Changhe?

It could be said that the barbarians’ entire plot had been ruined by Zhao Changhe, and the Earth Rankings’ seventh-place expert had died because of his words.

It was a bit eerie… On the surface, his actions didn’t seem monumental, but their impact was strangely vast. In the teachings of sects, this was often attributed to fate—something not just anyone could bear.

No wonder his father was paying more and more attention to him, personally inquiring into every detail of Zhao Changhe’s intelligence. Others thought it was because he was sizing up a son-in-law, but it might be more than that… Had Xia Longyuan ever been such a fate-bound figure in his time?

Zhao Changhe, meanwhile, was lost in his own lament: “What I sigh over is that the Earth Rankings’ seventh-place expert died without any grandeur, no different from a small fry.”

“…There is a difference. The Chaos Chronicle wouldn’t announce just anyone’s death. Besides, how do you know the scene wasn’t grand? Maybe Zhuque put in great effort and even sighed in admiration for a tenacious opponent at the end?”

Zhao Changhe retorted, “Have you been reading too many storybooks?”

Cui Yuanyong stubbornly insisted, “What of it? I think I would have done the same in her place!”

Zhao Changhe scoffed, “You are you. Zhuque wouldn’t spare a second glance at his corpse, that old woman…”

Cui Yuanyong shot back, “I know you’re quite familiar with old women.”

Zhao Changhe: “…Damn you.”

In truth, Zhao Changhe was still reeling from the aftermath of meeting Xia Longyuan, feeling that even Earth Rankings experts were like ants. Cui Yuanyong, of course, couldn’t grasp that sentiment.

But seeing Zhao Changhe’s lament, Cui Yuanyong couldn’t help but be affected. He sighed, “You have a point. If even the Earth Rankings’ seventh can die so easily, what about us? I feel like no matter how long I train, I’m still a drifting weed—yet I can’t afford to stop training.”

Zhao Changhe said, “Stop pushing yourself, brother. I know you’ve already reached the ninth level of the Xuan Pass. Being in the same generation as you puts a lot of pressure on me.”

“What pressure do you have? It’s us who feel the pressure being in the same generation as you! By the way, how did you know I’m at the ninth level?”

“Just a guess. I figured you wouldn’t fall behind. You and Yue Hongling are evenly matched—how could you stand her being on the Human Rankings while you’re still a Hidden Dragon? It’s been over a year since you reached the eighth level, so breaking into the ninth isn’t surprising. Tell me, when do you plan to enter the Human Rankings?”

“That depends on finding a chance to prove myself… According to the Chaos Chronicle’s judgment, Xue Canghai was promoted to the list instead of me. That clearly means they think I can’t beat Xue Canghai. I won’t accept that—just let me run into him.”

Zhao Changhe found it both amusing and exasperating. He felt that Sect Leader Xue was truly unlucky.

Xue’s most humiliating moment in his life was being defeated by Yue Hongling despite her lower rank, a shame that people still talked about. To avenge that disgrace, he had probably thrown everything aside, training like mad, hoping to catch Yue Hongling off guard next time. That was likely why the Blood God Sect had lain low these past few months.

But now, with the Chaos Chronicle’s announcement, Xue was probably furious enough to spit blood. His strength had been exposed, halving the element of surprise. And on top of that, it had provoked Cui Yuanyong and others vying for the Human Rankings, making him as conspicuous as a firefly in the dark night.

Zhao Changhe could imagine Xue Canghai stomping around in the Blood God Sect, cursing, “Which idiot wrote this damn book? Do they even know how to write?”

Cui Yuanyong continued, “You talk about pushing ourselves—aren’t you the worst of all? It’s been less than a year since you started martial arts, and look how many people you’ve left behind… Can you even count how many times you’ve truly rested?”

Zhao Changhe thought about it. He couldn’t recall many—maybe only about ten days, when he was in Suzhou with Tang Wanzhuang.

Even then, he had been organizing his swordsmanship and learning the qin… If he had been this driven in his previous life, he might have gotten into Qingbei University.

He took a sip of wine and laughed self-deprecatingly. “Yeah, I’m just a cabbage heart—rolled up tight and still green, that’s me.”

Cui Yuanyong burst out laughing, spraying wine. “The way you talk is sometimes really amusing. If you’re green, then everyone else is a melon. By the way, where does that phrase ‘rolled up’ come from? I’ve never heard it, but it feels oddly fitting.”

“A dialect from Zhao Village,” Zhao Changhe said. “Hey, shouldn’t the Emperor also use Zhao Village dialect? Haven’t you ever heard it?”

“No. The Emperor doesn’t have all those strange sayings like you do. He’s not from Zhao Village, so why would he speak its dialect?”

Zhao Changhe thought to himself that he didn’t know how Xia Longyuan managed it. After conquering the realm, he hadn’t pushed for industrialization or modernization like other transmigrators might have. He lived entirely like a native, only occasionally slipping modern terms when talking to Zhao Changhe…

Zhao Changhe himself had been consciously controlling his speech to avoid sounding too strange. After nearly a year, he used fewer and fewer modern terms. But some words were just too fitting to replace easily—like “rolled up.” It was really hard to be like Xia Longyuan.

It suggested that Xia Longyuan had been quite young when he transmigrated, probably a rebellious teenager, with much better adaptability and plasticity than Zhao Changhe. That also explained why his meridians weren’t as useless as Zhao Changhe’s. If they had met in the same era, that guy would have been a little brother. Now he was his father-in-law—truly, the concepts of “time” and “space” were too mysterious.

Damn, his mind was still full of Xia Longyuan. This encounter had shaken him too deeply. Zhao Changhe shook his head and deliberately steered the conversation back to business. “You said you had a task for me. What is it?”

“Our Chivalrous Camp is mostly made up of martial artists who came to help voluntarily. They have various roles—some have joined the army directly, while others have formed elite squads to raid behind enemy lines, which suits martial artists well. Of course, as I mentioned, some operate alone. Who knows how many have died.”

Zhao Changhe nodded. “I think I’d be suited to being a special operative, raiding behind enemy lines. How about you give me a map with markings for factions and troop deployments, and I’ll go have some fun?”

“I have a terrain map, but forget about faction and troop maps—they change too quickly.” Cui Yuanyong said, “Don’t interrupt. The thing is, a few days ago, a small squad went missing. We don’t know if they’re alive or dead. We’re organizing people to scout in that direction. If they’re still alive, rescuing them would be a blessing.”

“You want me to join the rescue mission?”

“I think it suits you. You’re fast on horseback, alert, and clever—unlike those martial artists who just charge in blindly.” Cui Yuanyong pulled out a sheepskin map and pointed to a spot. “This is the terrain map of that area. There’s a water source here, and a tribe was stationed nearby. According to intelligence, they weren’t heavily manned. I don’t know why the squad got trapped without even one survivor… Maybe they weren’t trapped at all. Either way, we need someone with a clear head to check it out.”

Zhao Changhe studied the map for a while, then tucked it into his chest. “Alright. I came here looking for specific work, and I knew the Chivalrous Camp was the right place.”

Cui Yuanyong said seriously, “Don’t die out there, like He Lei.”

Zhao Changhe replied, “You saying that makes me worry about one thing…”

“What?”

“Where is Yue Hongling?”

Cui Yuanyong’s expression shifted slightly. “It can’t be that bad…”

“If someone as strong as He Lei can die in the Central Plains, anything is possible. There’s no shortage of powerful warriors on the grasslands.”

Cui Yuanyong’s face darkened. “Now that you mention it, it has been a very long time since anyone saw Yue Hongling…”

“Damn it!” Zhao Changhe lost all appetite for food. He stood up abruptly and strode downstairs. “Boss, prepare some dry rations for me… Yes, a lot—enough for ten days!”

Cui Yuanyong helplessly chased after him. “What’s the rush? Even if you brought a hundred days’ worth of rations, would you find her?”

“…”

“There’s a place marked on the map called Yellow Sands Market. It’s a trading hub for the various grassland tribes. If you get a chance, you can go there to gather information and restock supplies. It’s better than blindly searching like a headless fly. But remember—be extremely careful. The mix of people there is far more chaotic than in Sword Lake City.”