Volume 1, Chapter 9: Signing In for Thirty Thousand Snow Dragon Cavalry

Gu Changfeng pulled back the curtain and surveyed his surroundings. Zhao Yi, mounted on a fine steed, was directing the troops in an orderly fashion.

"It’s fine; as long as it’s edible, it’s better than tree bark. Send word to all the cities to distribute it immediately. Sort out the seeds suitable for planting and divide them evenly."

"As for the army, leave that to General Zhao. Dismiss those who are unfit to return to their farms, and keep only the elite."

With his orders given, Wang Yi accepted the command and departed. Gu Changfeng stepped out of his carriage. It felt good to be the boss—one only needed to give orders, and the rest could be left to subordinates. As for the troubles, those were matters for the underlings to worry about.

The Sovereign of the Great Qian had actually granted him so many troops. It seemed the Liyang Prefecture was truly a thorn in his side; despite being the largest territory under his rule, he had never been able to exert any real control over it. Gu Changfeng suspected that the Sovereign had issued orders, but his subordinates had simply failed to act. If the Liyang Prefecture were truly stabilized, the existing chains of power and profit would crumble. The Sovereign was clearly trying to use him to pacify the region once and for all.

This was his land now. Not only would he put in the genuine effort, but he would also win the hearts of the people. With the right timing and geographical advantages, everything he did would proceed smoothly. As for these fifty thousand remnants of an army, they were merely a facade. If Gu Changfeng ever truly rebelled, the Great Qian would have a legitimate excuse to intervene. The White Tiger Army would trample the entire Liyang Prefecture in an instant, wipe out these useless troops, and restore order without the Sovereign being branded a tyrant. It was a move that served multiple purposes.

With these troops integrated, in just three days, Zhao Yi had reduced the army to three thousand men; the rest had laid down their arms and returned to their families. The disaster relief grain was also being distributed in an orderly fashion. Although the Great Qian considered it "waste grain," in the hands of the people of Liyang, it did not spark much resentment. After all, compared to tree roots and bark, it was a fine luxury.

As for why the Great Qian had exploited them, it was naturally because the people of Liyang refused to submit. Years ago, when the iron cavalry of the Great Qian broke through Liyang City, they had looted everything, from the women to the wealth of the populace. Who could submit to that? The Sovereign had tried to force them into submission through exploitation, but the situation only worsened. Ultimately, he gained a reputation for cruelty. Now, only Gu Changfeng, a direct descendant of the Liyang line, could dispel this lingering resentment.

Ten days later, the famine in Liyang was suppressed, and the region gradually returned to normal. Gu Changfeng, meanwhile, became a hands-off manager, an idle prince. Inside his study, he was leisurely reviewing documents—mostly trivial complaints from the people or reports of bandits causing trouble.

"Your Highness, General Zhao Yi requests an audience!" The attendant's voice rang out from outside the door.

"Come in!" As soon as Gu Changfeng set down his brush, Zhao Yi rushed in.

"Your Highness, the Divine Sword Villa is holding its once-in-five-years Poetry and Sword Gathering in five days!"

[Ding! Event triggered: Poetry and Sword Gathering.]
[Ding! Check-in location triggered: Divine Sword Villa, Poetry and Sword Gathering. Reward: 30,000 Snow Dragon Riders, each a First-Rank expert.]

The moment Zhao Yi finished speaking, the system's voice resounded. Only then did Gu Changfeng realize that to trigger check-in tasks, he had to engage with various events. This was the only way he could think of to trigger them. What delighted him even more was the thought of 30,000 Snow Dragon Riders—wouldn't they be equivalent to 300,000 iron-clad cavalry? Then what was the point of being low-key anymore!

"Zhao Yi, why didn't you inform me sooner about such an important matter?"

Zhao Yi looked troubled. "Your Highness, there were so many places needing relief and pacification; I haven't had a moment of rest."

"Cough, cough, my apologies, thank you for your hard work!" Gu Changfeng said, feeling slightly awkward; he had been too excited and had forgotten this detail.

"It is nothing, General, I am not tired!" Hearing these words of concern, all of Zhao Yi's worries vanished. Gu Changfeng had already revealed his identity as a Grandmaster to him, which had scared Zhao Yi so badly he nearly suffered a relapse of his old injuries. This matter was too shocking; even though he had prepared himself for many possibilities, he had almost been unable to cope. He had been so happy he hadn't slept for ten days and nights, though Gu Changfeng was nowhere near as extreme. Of course, this was the strongest person in the world, a Grandmaster—their status in the hearts of martial artists was self-evident. Still, only Zhao Yi knew, as Gu Changfeng needed a trusted confidant. Zhao Yi would die for him; what was a small secret like this?

"General Zhao, go and pack up. We shall depart for the Divine Sword Villa immediately."

Hearing this, Zhao Yi looked embarrassed. "Well, Your Highness, we didn't receive an invitation. We aren't swordsmen, so they didn't send us one."

Gu Changfeng chuckled. Zhao Yi was, after all, a Ninth-Rank expert; even if not fully recovered, he was still a top-tier warrior among the Eighth Rank. To think he was stumped by this.

"General Zhao, just because they didn't invite us doesn't mean we can't go! The Poetry and Sword Gathering, as the name implies, doesn't necessarily have to be about appreciating swords; one can also meet through poetry."

Zhao Yi looked skeptical. He had never heard of Gu Changfeng knowing poetry. Since he had been sent to a slave camp as a child, whatever he knew had been taught to him by Wang Yi. Even if he was a Grandmaster, it didn't change the fact that he was uneducated.

"Don't worry! Go prepare. Watch how I shock everyone there. Also, call Wang Yi back. Let him handle all affairs; during this time, his commands are my commands." Seeing Gu Changfeng's confidence, Zhao Yi felt more at ease and withdrew to carry out the orders.

Gu Changfeng rose from his chair, his heart swelling with anticipation. Discussing poetry? He only had to think of his charming ancestors. Were the Three Hundred Tang Poems written in vain? Was the complete collection of Li Taibai memorized for nothing? If he couldn't stun the entire assembly, he would at least shake the foundations of history.

Zhao Yi made the arrangements quickly, but the first thing Wang Yi did upon returning to the Prince's Mansion was to give Gu Changfeng a cold shoulder.

Heh! Could a dignified Grandmaster stand for that? Of course! He had to stand for it. The two were both teacher and friend, and Wang Yi was a commoner and a stubborn soul—a man who feared nothing and cared for no one. Even the Sovereign of the Great Qian couldn't make him accept the title of General of Chariots and Cavalry, and even knowing Gu Changfeng’s identity as a Grandmaster, he still gave him the cold shoulder. He was just like those rebellious roommates from his previous life. However, after some soft persuasion from both Zhao Yi and Gu Changfeng, Wang Yi took over the affairs of Liyang Prefecture.

When the sun was at its zenith, the two set off without a single guard. The Divine Sword Villa was located in the Great Qian territory, on the border between the Northern Barbarians and the Great Qian. Although it was within the borders of the Great Qian, it was a "three-no-man's-land" where no authority held sway, purely because of the fame and status of the Divine Sword Villa, which was second only to the "One Mountain, Two Cities." The villa had produced a martial genius who entered the First Rank at age 10, the Fifth Rank at 14, the Eighth Rank at 19, and by age 20, was a world-renowned Ninth-Rank swordsman—the fastest sword in the world.

Five years ago, the Third Young Master, then only 23, defeated Yan Shisan, who was beyond the Ninth Rank, with his peak Ninth-Rank strength, becoming famous overnight. The day he defeated Yan Shisan, his bold declaration shook the world: "In all the world's swordsmanship, only speed cannot be broken." Yan Shisan had followed the path of "ten thousand techniques falling to one force" and had been the strongest swordsman in the martial world. Yet, after that battle, both men disappeared from the world, and no one knew where they had gone.

The Divine Sword Villa was a thousand miles away from Liyang Prefecture. Three days later, in a vast desert, heat waves rolled across the sands. A flag for an inn swayed listlessly in the wind, creaking and groaning. On the plaque, a few large characters were carved—Dragon Gate Inn. Inside the inn, people from various nations gathered: merchants were exhausted, their goods piled in the corners; martial artists had their faces wrapped in black cloth, their deadly weapons by their sides. Swordsmen were the most numerous, their scabbards glinting with cold light. The atmosphere was tense and murderous.

"Heh heh! Dear guests, the chicken soup is here!"