Feng Zikang had just completed the first stage of the Miao Suan Xin Fa cultivation, focusing on the Jingming acupoint, and traces of tears still marked his face.
To Mo Li, this natural display revealed the true character of the military disciple—sentimental, devoted, and deeply compassionate, weeping out of concern for his safety. A warmth bloomed in Mo Li’s chest, and he declared loudly, “Brother Zikang not only saved my life but also slew that fiend, avenging the villagers of Longshiyu. For this kindness and debt, I, Mo, shall certainly repay you by bending my bow until it breaks!”
Feng Zikang offered a faint smile, choosing not to explain that the Wulingzi he had dispatched was merely a disciple of that old monster; he had no intention of troubling the elder fiend anyway. If Mo Li misunderstood in this way, so much the better.
“Now that matters here are concluded, shall we proceed to the Southern Barbarians together?”
Mo Li nodded his assent, and the two set off towards the South.
As disciples of the Mohist school, they eschewed reliance on external objects, meaning that during the Qi Introduction stage, they possessed no means of rapid transit, relying solely on a pair of straw sandals for speed. Only after reaching the Foundation Establishment stage could they utilize mechanical beasts for riding.
However, having trained since childhood, their footwork was formidable. When Mo Li exerted himself and sprinted, he was no slower than Feng Zikang using the third level of the Bai Bing Yu Fa.
In about two days, they cut directly through the three southern prefectures and arrived at the border of the Southern Barbarians.
A colossal river, seemingly descending from the heavens, roared downward; its current was fierce, the waves crashing against the banks with a sound like thunder and wind, blocking their path.
“Brother Zikang, this must be the Lancang River, regarded as a sacred river by the Southern Barbarians. Crossing this river means entering their territory.”
Feng Zikang nodded. Legend held that an ancient Jiao Dragon, sleeping for a thousand years, lay submerged beneath the Lancang. Observing the unpredictable and extremely perilous nature of the water here, this possibility seemed quite real.
But the Jiao Dragon had slept for eons; as long as it was not provoked, no calamity would arise. Just as the two prepared to cross, they saw a cloud of dust rising from the opposite bank, and a contingent of riders slowly approached.
Leading the group was a young officer in white robes upon a white horse. He held a silver spear aloft, pointing forward, seemingly issuing commands.
Behind him were about a hundred soldiers, each leading ropes that tethered a group of old men, women, and children. Judging by their attire, they appeared to be from the Southern Barbarian tribes. These elderly and young tribespeople could not keep pace, stumbling along. Any who fell were subjected to ruthless whipping.
“Stop!”
Mo Li could not tolerate such a sight. He roared, leaping up like a great bird, touching down three times upon the surging current before flying across the river. He snatched one of the soldiers wielding a whip.
The troops were well-drilled; with a sudden surge, they formed a circle and encircled him completely.
Feng Zikang sighed inwardly. The Mohists truly could not distinguish between helping friends and strangers; they were defined by compassion for all in need. Though the Southern Barbarians were not their kin, he reacted the same way, unable to stomach the Tang army abusing captives and forced himself to intervene.
With a slight motion, the iron sword beneath his feet transformed into a streak of dark light, carrying him across the river.
He arrived just as Mo Li was furiously denouncing, “…What harm have these old and weak done to deserve such brutal beating?”
Although the soldiers witnessed his supernatural feat of flying across the river, they stood resolute, facing him with drawn blades. The leading veteran, his face layered with scars, sneered, “This young master has likely never seen how the Southern Barbarians treated the people of our Great Tang. Do you know the rivers of blood flowing within Lizhou City? How many elders and children had their very intestines cut out and eaten! How many fine daughters were ruined until death! Where was your immortal self then, when you failed to stop it?”
As the veteran spoke his final words, his voice was thick with emotion; he was clearly a victim of the Lizhou massacre.
Mo Li was momentarily struck dumb. After a long pause, he managed, “That is true, but we in the Great Tang, a land of propriety, cannot imitate the actions of beasts. If we continue this cycle of killing, the feuds only deepen. When will this enmity ever be resolved?”
“Resolved?”
The veteran laughed three times, drew his saber, and shouted back, “Brothers, what did our Vanguard Luo tell us when he led us out of the city?”
The troops simultaneously drew their sabers, raising them towards the sun where they gleamed brilliantly, and roared in unison!
“Southern Barbarian dogs, worse than beasts! Kill them all!”
“Kill them all!”
On the faces of the soldiers was an expression of righteous anger. As they shouted, their teeth were clenched, each harboring a deep-seated hatred for the Southern Barbarians. The captive old and young barbarians were terrified into stillness, their faces the color of ash.
Seeing this towering hatred, Mo Li was silenced once more.
The Mohist doctrine of Universal Love proved utterly powerless against these men burdened by oceans of blood debt.
The young officer in white slowly rode his horse forward. Hanging from his saddle were seven or eight severed heads. He was quite young, perhaps no more than sixteen or seventeen, and his complexion was somewhat pale.
“Eh?”
Feng Zikang found the young man oddly familiar.
The young officer looked up and saw Feng Zikang suspended in mid-air. His face suddenly lit up with joy. He leaped from his horse and hurried forward several paces, bowing respectfully before Feng Zikang.
“Martial Uncle! How is it you are here?”
“You… you are Luo Kedi?”
Feng Zikang was startled. This cold-faced young officer was none other than Luo Kedi, the menial disciple he had seen in the Martial School Hall that day!
Luo Kedi was equally delighted to see Feng Zikang. He called for the soldiers to disperse, take a brief rest, and then took his Martial Uncle aside to catch up.
It turned out that after the Grand Competition at Luori Peak, Luo Kedi had been unable to find a path to the Qi Introduction stage and was subsequently dispatched by the Military Elders to the outer sects to travel the world.
“…I descended the mountain in February, later joining Marshal Wu’s command. By now, it has been nearly half a year.”
As soon as he joined the army, there was fighting. Because he was brave, strategic, young, and heroic, Duke Wu Ji intended to cultivate him. Over the past year, Luo Kedi accumulated military merit and rose through the ranks rapidly, now serving as the principal Vanguard Officer of the Pingnan Army.
The demon arts of Wuduyue were formidable, and the main battle lines were stalemated. Anxious to turn the tide, he conceived a radical plan: leading two hundred soldiers, he launched a surprise attack on Cangjiang Cave, one of the thirty-six Southern Barbarian caves, achieving a complete victory and wiping it out.
All adult males were slain; the old, weak, women, and children were all captured and taken back to the military camp to serve as forced labor!
Mo Li’s face changed drastically upon hearing this.
Having grown up within the Mohist School, he had been steeped since childhood in the doctrines of Universal Love and non-aggression, abhorring bloodshed. Such an act of extermination was unbearable.
Yet, faced with military stratagems in warfare, he found himself unable to say Luo Kedi’s actions were fundamentally wrong.
“General Luo, on the battlefield, those men—if they were killed, they were killed…” Even saying this felt labored for Mo Li. “…But these old, weak, women, and children are truly pitiable. Even if released, it would not affect the overall situation. Why must they be treated this way? Heaven cherishes life; why not simply release them…”
“Release them?”
Luo Kedi’s tiger eyes widened, his rage making his hair stand on end!
“Martial Uncle, who is this man? Is he perhaps also a disciple of the Military School? How could he utter such words?”
“You ask me to release these Southern Barbarian women and children so they can bear more male children for the Southern Barbarian dogs to use against our Great Tang citizens?”
“That is utterly impossible! Do not mention it again! Otherwise, I may recognize you, but my silver spear will not!”