Chapter 408: A True Man Does Not Associate with Rats

Chapter 408: A True Man Does Not Associate with Rats and Vermin

Hangzhou, the Allied Forces Conference.

The southern warlords gazed at Zhu Huan’s corpse on the ground, their expressions grim.

He had collapsed from exhaustion, then been struck in the back and died of his wounds—the situation was clear.

But the problem it reflected was far more serious.

They had thought Kuaiji was like an unguarded brothel, where anyone could just waltz in and take a bite, which was why ambitious men like Zhu Huan had stirred. But how many others had been tempted to act?

Now everyone drew in a sharp breath, secretly relieved they hadn’t been so hasty.

Zhu Huan’s troops were elite, among the strongest in the allied forces present. Yet he hadn’t even laid eyes on Maitreya, and the hidden tricks of the Maitreya Sect remained unrevealed. A mere thousand monk soldiers had made him die beneath the city walls, without even escaping.

If Tang Buqi hadn’t come to his aid, the Luling army would have been completely annihilated—a truly devastating loss.

To most, Tang Buqi’s move was a powerful reassurance, solid and trustworthy. With such an alliance leader, cohesion emerged.

Yet a few onlookers, cold-eyed, could sense something else… but at this moment, no one had the heart to dwell on how Tang’s family might secretly absorb those troops, or whether Zhu Huan’s nephews would henceforth follow Tang’s lead. That was for later… The immediate issue was how to attack Kuaiji now.

As long as Maitreya lived, everyone felt a thorn in their throat, unable to sleep or eat in peace. Who wouldn’t fear having their head taken by a top-tier assassin in their dreams? That was the foremost concern.

Only now did they realize they had never fought a battle with so little knowledge of the enemy. Not a single spy could enter Kuaiji; no news could leak out. Earlier, they had imagined Maitreya was finished, but now someone stubborn had tested the waters for them. The mere tip of the iceberg had caused an elite army to be shattered—what more lay hidden?

How could this battle be fought?

Earlier, Tang Buqi had said the city had no food and would fall in ten days under siege. Now it seemed a kind lie to steady morale.

Without internal intelligence, how could they know how much grain was stored? And from the monk soldiers’ performance, they might not even need food…

“Young Master Tang.” In the silence, someone finally spoke: “The Demon-Suppression Bureau might have more intelligence, knowing things we don’t… How should this battle be fought? We await your orders.”

Tang Buqi waved a hand: “We don’t know much either. My aunt only told me not to rush.”

“So we just wait here for the Chief to arrive? Honestly, with this delay, our own supplies are running low.”

This wasn’t an excuse or defeatism; it was the truth.

It was late spring, the true season of scarcity. After fighting for so long, who had much grain left? That was why most had resented Tang Buqi’s earlier inaction. Every day of siege tightened their belts further; none were here on a pleasure trip.

If this continued, far from Maitreya falling without a fight, they would have to disband from lack of supplies.

Tang Buqi said: “I don’t know when my aunt will arrive, but we cannot rely solely on her.”

…Your aunt, not “we.” You make it sound like we’re all aunt-dependent, while you’re the same…

Then Tang Buqi continued: “From what we can see, we should make our own analysis.”

He gestured, and soldiers carried in a headless monk soldier’s corpse, placing it in the hall.

Earlier, when the head was severed, the body had still writhed and struggled, but now it was completely cold.

Tang Buqi crouched beside the monk soldier and said: “It’s confirmed this isn’t a corpse soldier. Before decapitation, it was alive. A fanatical faith made it actively ‘invite the gods to descend,’ and divine protection truly came, making it unstoppable. This should be the Maitreya Sect’s core elite…”

Someone asked: “Why didn’t we see this when they were conquering cities before? Otherwise, we’d have been overwhelmed long ago.”

Tang Buqi said: “It probably only works near Kuaiji, not far away. Earlier, outside the city, the headless body could still move. Now it’s completely dead, likely because it left the range.”

“So if we have to fight this kind of battle, should we lure them out of Kuaiji? But in their final resistance, they’ll never leave.”

“There must be a source for this phenomenon. If a strong person enters the city and destroys that source,” Tang Buqi said, “then at the same time, we must attack the city with full force, applying pressure to tie down these things, preventing them from surrounding the infiltrator.”

In theory, that was sound. But the heated discussion in the hall suddenly cooled; no one responded.

This wasn’t about waiting for a strong figure like Tang Wanzhuang to enter and solve the problem before they attacked. They had to fully engage these monk soldiers to facilitate Tang Wanzhuang’s actions inside the city.

That meant deaths.

Zhu Huan’s example showed collapse could happen in an instant. Who would be the second? And how many of these monk soldiers were there?

Tang Buqi looked around and said slowly: “These monk soldiers’ power is limited. Probably due to their own strength, it can’t last long… If we’re prepared and hold them off for about the time it takes an incense stick to burn, they’ll start weakening. So we only need to stall them for that long.”

Still no one responded.

Tang Buqi said bluntly: “The plan is to besiege three sides and leave one open—the south gate. My Tang family will attack the north gate. Who will take responsibility for the east and west gates?”

Dead silence.

Tang Buqi looked at each person in turn. Everyone avoided his gaze, hoping someone else would step up.

This was the final battle; who wanted to fight to the death? Let others suffer heavy losses, then there would be plenty of spoils to claim later. Who would control Jiangnan was still unknown.

Clear disappointment showed in Tang Buqi’s eyes.

His aunt had been delayed so long, partly because she needed to heal from previous injuries, and partly because she was surely rallying other strong fighters to enter the city—that was the most dangerous death trap.

But if, after all this, his aunt had secured the strong fighters, and Tang Buqi failed in his task of diversion, how ridiculous would that be?

Tang Wanzhuang entering the city as a suicide warrior, Tang Buqi leading the vanguard—and then what? What about the others?

Had all the noble families outside the Tang clan died out?

Even Zhu Huan was better! He had ambition, but he acted! What were these people?

Just then, laughter came from outside the hall: “In that case, the Canal Guild will take the east gate.”

With those words, Wan Dongliu strode in, clasped his hands to Tang Buqi: “The Canal Guild comes to support… Not many men, but enough for the east gate.”

Tang Buqi was overjoyed: “Brother Wan, you are noble!”

Someone frowned coldly: “When feudal lords unite to suppress a cult, since when do martial sects have a say?”

Wan Dongliu smiled and ignored him.

At that moment, a middle-aged man also strode in, laughing: “Then the west gate is ours, the Blood God Sect. The Holy Son says the west gate is auspicious; he likes it.”

Murmurs filled the hall.

The Blood God Sect! Xue Canghai!

This was even harder to accept than the Canal Guild. Letting a martial sect help was one thing, but when had a demonic sect ever appeared openly in such a place?

Tang Buqi twitched his mouth, unsure whether to be pleased or angry.

He had good intelligence. He knew Zhao Changhe had subdued the Blood God Sect and secured Xiangyang. Xue Canghai’s arrival meant Zhao Changhe’s business was settled, which in turn meant his aunt had already arrived… But thinking he’d have to call that kid “uncle”—how could he be happy?

He remained silent for a moment, and others misinterpreted. Someone slammed the table, stood up, and pointed at Xue Canghai: “Noble families, united to suppress a cult—since when does the Blood God Sect have a say? You yourselves are a demonic sect that should be suppressed! Who let them in? Throw them out!”

Xue Canghai stared at him coldly, with a smile that wasn’t a smile: “Noble families? What I see are just a pack of scavenging dogs, and not even that… Wild dogs at least have bloodlust when scavenging. What are you?”

“Oh? Isn’t this Sect Leader Xue, who was challenged across ranks? You…”

Before he finished, Xue Canghai flashed with rage, and in one claw, he seized the man’s throat tightly, nearly crushing it.

This was anger pent up for half a book—no, a year and a half—and even Zhao Changhe dared not bring up that sore spot to his face.

“Xue was challenged across ranks… but unfortunately, it wasn’t by you,” Xue Canghai said coldly. “You don’t want to associate with our demonic sect, do you? Then either you get out yourselves, or I’ll kill you and you’ll roll out.”

The man looked painfully at Tang Buqi: “Young Master Tang…”

Tang Buqi helplessly clasped his hands: “Sect Leader Xue, do me a favor—don’t kill anyone here…”

The way he said it, not ordering the demonic sect expelled but asking for a favor, made another person stand up indignantly: “Since Young Master Tang only values the demonic sect, we’ll take our leave. Let the demonic sect fight Maitreya with you.”

Another voice came from outside: “You really can leave now.”

People turned to look. A tall young man strode in, his aura imposing, a scar on his face.

Everyone's heart skipped a beat, and a single name rose in their minds.

Blood Asura, Zhao Changhe!

Though he was but a junior, the sense of murderous menace this name carried surpassed even Xue Canghai's... For a moment, all fell silent.

Young as he was, he was not only a master on the Human Roll; another identity had been whispered about in recent days, and many among the gentry had their suspicions.

Tang Wanzhuang had all but openly thrown her support behind him...

If he stepped forward to champion the demon cult and the guilds... did it represent the court's will? Or his own thoughts?

Amid the varied thoughts, Zhao Changhe swept his gaze around and bared his teeth in a smile: "I, Zhao, have widely invited heroes to hunt together in Wu—I came late... but the ranks of heroes have never included any of you. Please, make yourselves scarce."

Someone spoke slowly: "Does Young Master Zhao know what he is saying... Has he thought it through?"

"A true man does not keep company with rats," Zhao Changhe said calmly. "As for whatever is on your minds—sorry, I don't care."

Suddenly sensing something, people turned to look. Cui Wenjing and Yang Jingxiu stood quietly at the hall entrance, hands clasped behind their backs, as if they had no mood even to step inside and speak.

If it was a hunt in Wu, who was the prey?

Besides Maitreya... they were, too.