Tome of Troubled Times-Chapter 771 (1): The March of the Three Armies

Tang Wanzhuang ultimately paid the price for her own reckless provocation. In this domain, she was nowhere near Vermillion Bird’s level. She simply was not as unrestrained as the supreme commander.

Vermillion Bird had been quite pleased with herself just the night before for pinning down her unruly disciple and taking the upper hand. Yet now, she found herself in the exact same situation. At this moment, she was pinned down herself and being completely overwhelmed. The irony was unbearable.

She endured it without protest, waiting until Zhao Changhe finally turned his attention to Tang Wanzhuang. As she leaned against the pillows to catch her breath, she watched the prime minister trembling under his... ministrations, her eyes filled with shy acceptance.

And suddenly, a wicked fire ignited in Vermillion Bird’s gaze. She leaned forward and, without hesitation, kissed Tang Wanzhuang on the lips.

Tang Wanzhuang’s eyes flew wide open in shock, completely dumbfounded.

“Little beauty...” Vermillion Bird’s voice was sultry and her fingers trailed down Tang Wanzhuang’s cheek, slowly moving downward, tracing over the pale, jade-like skin. “Did you know? I’ve wanted to do this for a long time. Seeing you all over the place like this... Hehe, I have to say, it’s quite thrilling. Since you’ve dug your own grave, might as well go in~” freewёbnoνel.com

As she spoke, her lips moved lower, pressing against Tang Wanzhuang’s delicate throat.

Tang Wanzhuang’s entire body went rigid.

The poor lady had always envisioned taking turns in scenarios like this but had never considered the possibility of this. Making things worse was that Zhao Changhe, for all his gentlemanly behavior of late, found the situation even more amusing.

And so, under an attack from both fronts, she suffered a total, catastrophic defeat.

In the end, she did indeed “perform” for him, but it was only to find herself utterly conquered instead. But as the instigator who had dragged everyone onto this battlefield, Tang Wanzhuang was also the ultimate victor.

Who had truly won and who had lost? That would take much longer to determine.

For instance, who would bear the first child?

But that was a matter for the distant future...

* * *

The imperial court assembly had convened early in the morning. When it ended, it was still morning. The war council had taken place in the early afternoon. Now, the sun had long since drifted from its peak. It was close to evening.

Hours had slipped away as three lovers indulged in passionate affairs. Now, three sages lay side by side, wrapped in thin blankets, staring blankly at the ceiling. To an outsider, it might have seemed like they were reflecting on their actions.

In reality, the prime minister and the supreme commander simply had no strength left. At the same time, the effects of this dual cultivation were beyond anything they had ever experienced before.

Zhao Changhe had always believed that, in terms of pure compatibility of techniques, Tang Wanzhuang and Huangfu Qing were not a natural water-fire pair. Lady Three fit that role best. But in practice, he had discovered that Tang Wanzhuang possessed an obvious complementary force.

After all, the ancestors of the Tang Clan had always observed the flow of water as the foundation of their martial path. Their understanding of water surpassed even their study of light. All of their techniques embodied endless, flowing change, like the ceaseless ripples of a quiet stream under an ancient bridge, or the serene vastness of Taihu.

If there was a distinction between Tang Wanzhuang and Lady Three, it was the difference between a gentle, meandering brook and furious, storming waves.

Lady Three did not possess the delicate, understated elegance that Tang Wanzhuang did. In contrast, Tang Wanzhuang and Huangfu Qing were a perfect juxtaposition. They were a classic example of water and fire clashing head-on.

Thus, after this intense session of dual cultivation, all three of them experienced a sudden improvement in their cultivation, with even some of the flaws in the two women’s cultivation techniques being slightly mended. The benefits were so unexpectedly great that even long after it ended, they were still immersed in its lingering insights, too engrossed to even argue.

After a long while, Zhao Changhe tentatively suggested, “Shall we get up and eat?”

Huangfu Qing lazily replied, “I’m already full... no appetite.”

It was unclear whether she meant she was full from the exchange of energy or from something else. On the side, Tang Wanzhuang’s beautiful eyes flickered with displeasure. If anyone should be angry, it’s me. Being kissed by you was utterly disgusting.

Huangfu Qing glanced at her as well and drawled, “Some people may look delectable, but once you take a bite, they’re just so-so. Not as comfortable as Lady Three’s soft, plump figure, and not as fresh and delightful as Chichi.”

Tang Wanzhuang was so exasperated she actually laughed. “That’s them, not you. What exactly are you so pleased about?”

Huangfu Qing snorted but held her tongue. Originally, she had wanted to mock men for their poor taste in being seduced so easily. But on second thought, that was something she couldn’t say—after all, her own figure was almost identical to Tang Wanzhuang’s. Mocking her opponent in this respect would be the same as mocking herself. Her advantage lay in her toned waist and legs, while Tang Wanzhuang’s allure was in her soft, jade-like smoothness. She wasn’t even sure which one men preferred, but actually voicing such a comparison felt beneath her, so it was better to just shut up.

Tang Wanzhuang, of course, did not let it go. She sneered, “I never would have thought that the Venerable Vermillion Bird would compare herself to others in terms of her body feeling good for a man. So, all these years of political maneuvering and dominance were just a way to raise your own value?”

Fortunately, Huangfu Qing had anticipated this attack. She responded languidly, “Who was it that said battles should be fought even in bed? If we’re fighting, then we fight to the end. You started it, so why are you so angry now that I decided to take you up on that?”

Just as the tension between them started to escalate, a pair of hands suddenly seized their buns.

Both women flinched at the same time and turned to glare at the man between them with fury.

Zhao Changhe sighed. “This might be our last day of madness in the capital...”

The two women stared at him in stunned silence for a few moments before the sound of Baoqin’s voice came from outside the door. “Young miss, the Ministry of War has sent word that the last batch of military supplies from Langya has arrived in the warehouse. Also, a few foreigners have arrived. They claim to have been sent by the King of Dali.”

Both women’s eyes narrowed as they instantly understood that Zhao Changhe had never stopped keeping an eye on the situation outside. He might not be able to see beyond the vast heaven and earth without special means, but observing the movements of the entire capital was no problem for him.

Most likely, while they were bickering, he had been quietly watching a lone rider from Langya galloping into the city, while several figures from the southwest flew in with their hawks.

The letter to Dali had only just been sent, so their arrival could not be a response to it. But when he had failed to find Sisi a few days ago, he had asked the maidens of the Spirit Tribe to relay a message. Clearly, it had reached its destination right on time, and Sisi had dispatched the Spirit Tribe’s beastmasters to the capital without any delay.

When all the military provisions were finally in place, it signaled the coming of the northern campaign.

And indeed, as Zhao Changhe said, this turned out to be his last bout of madness in the capital.

* * *

In truth, the one most eager for the northern campaign had always been Zhao Changhe himself. More than anyone, he understood that they could not afford to wait for Tngri to fully recover. The resulting chain reaction would not just mean the return of a formidable enemy at the second layer of the Profound Control Realm; it would also unify the fragmented factions among the northern barbarians, making them a far more formidable force to contend with.

To put it bluntly, if the barbarian god were to descend upon the world in full strength, slaughtering at will, the Great Han Empire could collapse within mere days. The struggle between human nations was not something the blind woman would intervene in. She saw no distinction between Hu and Han. If she were to favor one side, would she favor Zhao Changhe himself? That thought seemed a little too self-important.

As early as New Year’s Eve, the very day Zhao Changhe arrived in the capital, he told Tang Wanzhuang, “Aren’t we supposed to be discussing military affairs?”

He had been prepared to march out that very day.

However, war was not the same as the ways of the jianghu, where one could simply grab a sword and set off. The pace of a mortal army could never match his own. He thus had no choice but to suppress his impatience and wait for all preparations to be completed, resigning himself to celebrating the new year in the meantime.

The northern barbarians, for their part, had no desire for delay either. If they could have launched a southern campaign two months earlier, it would have been ideal. At that time, the Great Han Empire had been at its weakest. Its armies, supplies, and even government officials had been in short supply, leaving the nation in a state of near-collapse, vulnerable to a single decisive strike.

Unfortunately, the northern barbarians had been preoccupied with their own troubles. Tngri and Bo’e had both suffered severe injuries, Batu’s forces remained stranded in Monan, and the northern frontier was buried under heavy snow and ice. Internal and external obstacles alike had made it impossible for them to wage war. They had been left with no choice but to send their light cavalry through Guanlong in hopes of securing a quick victory, but their efforts had been thwarted.

Now, however, with Batu subdued and both Bo’e and Tngri partially recovered, they turned their eyes southward, only to find that the Great Han Empire had also undergone a rapid and undeniable revival. What had once been a single elite force of 10,000 under Huangfu Shaozong had grown into an army of over 100,000 battle-ready soldiers. Though the troops, funds, and supplies had been gathered from across the empire, leaving it internally strained, it was evident that given a few more years, the Han military would grow strong enough to make Timur himself tremble.

Moreover, with Zhao Changhe and his monstrous rate of improvement, could anyone confidently say that in a few months, Tngri would still be able to suppress him and his women? No one dared to make that bet.

Timur would not give the Great Han Empire more time to recover. He, too, sought a decisive battle.

This was a war both sides were eager to fight.