Chapter 790: Inscribed on the New Ranking

Chapter 790: New Rankings on the List

"Heavenly List Tenth, Tang Wanzhuang."

"Earth List First, Li Boping..."

"Earth List Second, Huangfu Yongxian."

"Earth List Twentieth, Xue Canghai."

"Earth List Thirty-Third, Xiang Simeng."

...

The Blind One wrote this series of battles briefly this time, mainly because there were other battlefields to cover, and it was impossible to write thousands of words in detail. For instance, the battle between Li Boping and Cui Wenjing, and the battle between Sisi and Yin Kui Feng Yin, all had to be recorded.

With Tang Wanzhuang's promotion to the Heavenly List, the Earth List's top spot became vacant. Huangfu Yongxian could not directly fill it, as he had not broken through the Triple Secret Vaults. That position could only go to Li Boping, who had fought evenly with Cui Wenjing.

At the same time, what caught the world's attention most was that the Queen of Dali, Xiang Simeng, had slain Yin Kui and Feng Yin, achieving great military feats, yet she did not ascend to the top in one leap. She only squeezed into a spot at the tail end of the Earth List.

In theory, even if she relied on the power of a strange beast, it should count as Heavenly List level. For example, Zhao Changhe's use of divine artifacts counted as his own achievements, so Simeng's should count too... If you let Xue Canghai fight Simeng, he'd be beaten to a pulp, so why should he be ranked above her? But whether it was due to the Blind One's personal bias or because the Heavenly Dao did not recognize such methods, it wasn't counted, and she was grudgingly given a spot at the bottom of the Earth List.

But none of this mattered; no one cared.

What truly stunned the world was that the Chaos List, taking advantage of the decline of the Heaven, Earth, and Man Lists after the battle, had been rearranged... or rather, it wasn't a rearrangement. It added an extra sub-list called the Demon God List, which only recorded ancient demon gods, excluding those of the present era.

"Demon God First, Unknown Existence."

"???" The world's eyes nearly popped out.

Unknown Existence...

The Chaos List was a manifestation of the Heavenly Dao. Did this mean there existed something even the Heavenly Dao could not comprehend?

Then why list it at all? Just say it turns its back on the world and suppresses the ages. Who could contend with something even the Heavenly Dao couldn't know? Asking for death? Besides, if it's unknown, don't mention it. This ranking is as useless as a fart.

"Demon God Second, Ye Jiuyou."

These seven words were more concrete, drawing everyone's gaze tightly. Even Zhao Changhe's rise to the top of the Heavenly List and the so-called Unknown Existence didn't spark much discussion.

Because many had anticipated Zhao Changhe could become the Heavenly List's first. Aside from sighing that he was truly a prodigy from heaven, there was little to say. As for the Unknown Existence, there was even less to say—just some random nonsense.

This Demon God Second was the knowable first among demon gods, possibly even the true number one in the world.

Everyone understood that the Demon God List might not necessarily be stronger than the Heavenly List. Those on the Heavenly List had slain gods and demons several times already, and ancient demon gods were dying one by one. Once they were all gone, this list could be abolished. Listing it as a sub-list was reasonable enough, no need to crowd it with present-day figures. But in people's subconscious, ancient demon gods as a whole were still stronger than those of today. The Demon God List might be more intimidating than the Heavenly List, and as the first among ancient demon gods, Ye Jiuyou was likely still stronger than Zhao Changhe.

After all, Zhao Changhe had not yet reached the Second Layer of the Imperial Realm.

Even if he was unmatched in the world, could the Demon God List count as an enemy from the heavens?

But Ye Jiuyou seemed to have been "trifled with," known to all the world. Coupled with the "Unknown Existence" looming above, the name Ye Jiuyou had no face at all.

What is the essence of journalism? For the Blind One to praise Jiuyou would be more painful than taking a beating himself.

"What ancient first demon god? It's like a monkey claiming to be king when the tiger's away. I don't believe this Jiuyou could have beaten the Night Emperor back then."

The Blind One was very satisfied with this clever remark and considered granting the speaker some fortune.

"Exactly, isn't she just someone who sent herself over to be trifled with? By the way, how was she trifled with? Where was she touched?"

"Don't know, maybe kissed."

"So, she's a woman?"

"Men can be trifled with too."

"Good point, sir."

"By the way, who has heard of this person in any records? Those like Huangyang and others weren't listed. Why did she suddenly appear?"

"Not just her. There's more."

—"Demon God Third, Sword Emperor."

—"Demon God Fourth, Piaomiao."

If Ye Jiuyou had appeared once in the battle reports, and the Sword Emperor had always been a legend in Gusu, then Piaomiao was completely unheard of, as if she had materialized out of thin air.

Even Zhao Changhe, far away in the Hanhai, was startled by these names. First, that the Sword Emperor was stronger than Piaomiao; second, that the name Piaomiao had suddenly emerged—where was Yangyang?

He looked at the Chaos List and saw Cui Yuanyang's name still there. Zhao Changhe felt a bit relieved, scratched his head, and wanted to call out to the Blind One to ask, but there was still no response.

Speaking of which, Blindy, have you no shame? Where's your own name?

If you have the guts, put yourself on the list. Demon God First, Ye Wuming—who else could it be? What does "Unknown Existence" mean? Self-deception. And you claim to follow the rules? Where are the rules? How about swapping with Jiuyou?

"Demon God Fifth, Lie."

"Demon God Sixth, Mara Papiyas."

So he wasn't dead yet.

"Demon God Seventh, Ancient White Tiger."

Zhao Changhe: "?"

Huangfu Qing: "!!!"

Ancient White Tiger?

In the imperial palace, Xia Chichi stood up abruptly.

"Demon God Eighth, Han Chi."

"There are still many Imperial Realm beings, various Vajras, Maras, strange beasts, and remnant souls. Not listed for now, reserved for when their achievements become evident."

No need to list more. Just these eight had Zhao Changhe's head spinning.

Piaomiao's name appearing was already unclear, and now an Ancient White Tiger had emerged!

Blindy, you knew the Ancient White Tiger was alive, and you didn't say anything earlier! Where is It?

How would this affect the current Four Symbols Sect and the new Night Emperor? The faith of the sect's followers was based on the ancient Four Symbols and the Night Emperor. Many of their actions assumed the ancient Four Symbols were dead—like Zhao Changhe replacing the Four Symbols and establishing a new Night Emperor. Now that a true ancient Four Symbols had appeared, if handled poorly, it could cause great chaos.

And it was almost certain that none of these were at the First Layer of the Imperial Realm. The Blind One wouldn't bother listing those at the First Layer. All of these were at the Second Layer, or even the Third.

Zhao Changhe clutched his head, his temples throbbing with pain.

He had just won a great battle, feeling like he could lie low for a year or two. But now, looking around, it seemed there were countless matters left, never-ending.

The most headache-inducing thing was that no matter how he called, the Blind One wouldn't appear, leaving him with no one to ask.

They were far away in the Hanhai now. He couldn't just skip the victory feast and the consolidation of the grassland situation, then go home after reading a list, could he? That would cause a mutiny among the entire army.

Forget it. Zhao Changhe didn't bother with more trouble. He directly drove the captured Vulture Tribe prisoners back to Langjuxu Mountain.

In the mountains, a simple temple had been hastily rebuilt in recent days. The hillsides and foothills were densely packed with tents of tribal leaders who had come to pay homage. Though the seven-day deadline had passed, no one dared to utter a single complaint. The vast number of Vulture Tribe captives, the heads of Tiemuer and Vulture Hunter, and the captives from the Golden Wolf and other tribes at the royal court all stood as bloody proof of the saying, "Those who exceed the deadline shall be exterminated."

The word "exterminated" might not be understood by many, but their chieftains understood—it meant wiping out the entire clan. Zhao Changhe just didn't say it so bloodily.

Of course, the Han army couldn't actually wipe out entire clans, especially since the commander was Zhao Changhe, not Zhuque or Xue Canghai. But everyone knew these stubborn tribes would not have an easy time in the future. With the Han army likely establishing a loose-rein governance here, there would be countless corvée labors. These tribes might end up as the most miserable laborers, and in the end, it might not be much different from extermination.

Such was the fate of the conquered—a warning to others. If they wanted a better life, they had to show absolute submission.

Now, there was no longer any major tribe in the grassland capable of gathering heroes and threatening the Han Empire. Even Batu's War Lion Tribe was now scattered like a group of refugees, needing at least two generations of recovery to rebuild. Of course, if Batu had the will, the War Lion Tribe still had a chance. But look at Batu now...

"Godfather, Godfather, you're back!" Batu scurried out to greet him at the foot of the mountain, his waist bent so low his head nearly touched the ground: "Let your son hold your horse for you."

Zhao Changhe nearly fell off his horse: "When did I ever acknowledge this son?"

“Acknowledged by a godmother,” Batu said with a placating smile, then decisively knelt beside the horse, signaling Zhao Changhe to step on his back to dismount: “Please dismount, foster father.”

“No need.” Zhao Changhe knew that this ritual might be normal for them, but he himself was truly unaccustomed, so he could only signal with his eyes for Huangfu Qing to interrupt.

Huangfu Qing’s voice was like the frost of the twelfth month: “Which godmother? Where did this godmother come from? Do I acknowledge her?”

Batu was drenched in sweat.

The biggest problem with this foster father was that there was no principal wife; he didn’t know which mother to curry favor with, and currying favor with one would offend many.

And none of them were easy to provoke. If this one lost her temper, that lazy godmother probably couldn’t handle it, nor would she necessarily cover for him.

Zhao Changhe took the opportunity to dismount from the other side, reached out to pull Batu up, and dragged him up the mountain: “Don’t give me that. Even if you put on these airs, I won’t believe you have no ambition, so the posturing is meaningless.”

Batu cried out in exaggerated grievance: “You have to believe me… To be honest, many tribes don’t dare hate you, but they dare hate me. Once I lose the support of the Great Han, I’ll be torn to pieces by the wolves, not even bones left.”

“And once you’ve firmly secured the Khan’s seat and built up your power?”

“Old Zhao, let’s be frank. Your current strength can slay gods; the grasslands have never had such a powerful figure in charge. It would take countless years and sheer luck for another to emerge. If I ever harbored treacherous thoughts, you could take my head at any time. Unless I were a complete idiot, I wouldn’t entertain such nonsense. Isn’t it wonderful to be Khan under the protection of the Great Han?”

“Calling me Old Zhao now?”

“Heh heh…”

“Actually, I do believe you won’t rebel against me, but what about your descendants?” Zhao Changhe said. “I doubt you dare guarantee for future matters.”

Batu was silent for a moment, then spoke honestly: “Old Zhao, your lifespan now, even if not immortality, is close enough. As long as you don’t court death, it’s a thousand autumns and ten thousand generations. Even if you were to contend with some demon god and get killed, the chaos under heaven wouldn’t fall to me. And even if we both die, why care about the flood after? I’ll at most consider wealth and honor for my children and grandchildren; am I supposed to think about generations beyond? I’m not sick.”

The implication: Are you sick? Taking care of your children and grandchildren is one thing, but you want to rule for millennia?

“Honestly, if a hundred years from now my descendants bring chaos to the world, it’s because your successors are too incompetent. No amount of advance planning will help; they’ll always have their own tricks.” Batu turned to look at Zhao Changhe and sighed: “Old Zhao, if you’re afraid, just set the rules. Whatever you say, I’ll cooperate—unless you want my head, which would be too low-class, and my head is useless anyway.”

“Nothing else. In the lands south of the desert, I know there are many places suitable for farming. You can try to organize reclamation.”

“What does that mean?”

“Half nomadic, half agricultural, plus cultural sinicization. Do it slowly.”

Batu’s expression was quite vivid: “Does that mean we have to build cities?”

“At least in the south of the desert, yes, and we can also build roads. The location of Yellow Sands Collection is good, with a freshwater lake… In such places, we can appoint governors and prefects, incorporate them into governance, and promote sinicization through education. As for the north of the desert, we can first station troops and exercise loose control.”

“Fine, fine, as you wish.” Batu said leisurely: “No matter how you do it, I won’t be short of a Khan’s throne.”

“Naturally.”

“That’s enough. Old Zhao, contentment is a blessing—that goes for me and for you. Don’t try to do everything yourself; you can’t finish it all.”

“…How could I not want contentment?” Zhao Changhe sighed softly. “Some things must be done.”

“If I were you, I’d first spend a month on the sacred mountain in drunken revelry, and have the tribes send their most beautiful women.”

A slap flew from behind, sending Batu stumbling with a “smack.”

Batu turned back in fury: “Who the hell… Oh, godmother, you’ve come?”

Sanniang put her hands on her hips and cursed: “Whose side are you on! Still sending beauties? Why don’t you cut yourself off and send that! Get lost!”

Batu fled with his head in his hands, but after two steps, Huangfu Qing’s spear tip hooked out, Batu tripped over it, and rolled down the mountain in a flash.

Sanniang’s arrival meant the arrival of Huangfu Yongxian. It wasn’t that Huangfu Qing didn’t want to hit someone, but because her real father was standing right beside her.

This was also the first time Zhao Changhe saw the Huangfu family standing together. Before this, even though he knew, it was always hard to connect that old general who had guarded the frontier all his life with the Vermilion Bird. But now, with the children standing left and right beside the old man, and Huangfu Qing unusually docile with lowered brows, the father-daughter feeling instantly filled the air.

Zhao Changhe felt a bit awkward, not knowing how to address Huangfu Yongxian.

Back then, he had even secretly hinted that the old general should pledge allegiance to him, the “false crown prince,” and that the Northern Army would be at his disposal.

If the old man knew that he had secretly taken his daughter, and in such a perverse way—both the empress dowager and the emperor together, even in the marching command tent—what would he think? Would he say that he had been blinded by shit back then, choosing this unrighteous tyrant?

The old general’s white hair fluttered in the wind. He exchanged a glance with Zhao Changhe, then suddenly broke into a smile, knelt on one knee, and said in a booming voice: “I pay respects to the Prince of Zhao.”

Zhao Changhe instinctively knelt in return: “I pay respects to my father-in-law.”

“Pfft…” Huangfu Shaozong turned to look into the distance, and many surrounding generals were snickering.

Huangfu Qing’s cheeks flushed pink as she glared fiercely at her brother, who simply ignored her.

Huangfu Yongxian also laughed. The two supported each other by the arms and rose together. Huangfu Yongxian smiled: “I am very grateful to the Prince of Zhao.”

Zhao Changhe quickly said: “You flatter me, General. Matters like the northern expedition are what we ought to do.”

“I’m talking about taking away that reckless brat who’s been storming around for thirty years, relieving me of a great worry.”

Zhao Changhe: “…”

Huangfu Qing’s brows shot up like willow leaves.

“In the martial world, you were a great demon, the Vermilion Bird Venerable, so imposing. Come home and ask when you’ll marry, and you run away before I finish. In the end, you lost all face, went to the palace to lurk as an imperial consort—are you trying to anger your father to death?”

Huangfu Qing’s face was tight, and Zhao Changhe also turned his head away.

This was the flavor—didn’t see it at New Year’s, but today makes up for it, huh? When will they make dumplings?

No wonder in many martial arts settings, those great demons can’t have parents; once they go home, all their coolness is lost.

But those are real demons; even with parents, they might not be filial. Yet this Vermilion Bird demoness of ours is clearly not that kind of person. Who knows how much of her joining the Four Symbols Sect was due to family grievances?

Now everything has settled, causes and effects repaid.

The old general turned to look at the clouds beyond the mountain. The mountain wind howled, blowing his white hair across his eyes: “All my life I’ve fought against the barbarians. Countless comrades fell on the battlefield. Qing’er and Shaozong’s three elder brothers all died in battle… I once thought my best end would be to perish with the city in some last stand, not to see the shattered rivers and mountains behind.”

He paused, then revealed a brilliant smile: “I never imagined that today I would lead the troops beyond the passes, break the royal court, turn these ten thousand miles of grassland into our pasture, and on this Mount Langjuxu, console the souls of thousands of comrades. From now on, I can retire to my hometown, nurse these wounds… Best if you give me a grandchild to hold soon, then I’ll have no regrets in this life.”

Huangfu Qing stamped her foot: “Father!”

Huangfu Yongxian said: “That troublesome false identity of yours prevents you from marrying. But now we’re in the army, far from home—military matters, military decisions. If you don’t tie the knot in front of me, do you think I’m afraid of your Vermilion Bird Venerable and Prince of Zhao?”

Zhao Changhe quickly tugged at Huangfu Qing, whose face was about to fall, and replied earnestly: “We had intended to ask you, General, to preside over the grand sacrifice of all tribes, to reward the three armies, and also to act as our witness, giving her a wedding feast blessed by the multitude.”