Chapter 3: Grief and Fury, Breaking Through to the Rushing Blood Realm!
Thanks to Lord Yan Yun’s explanation, Zhang Yang finally understood the sequence of events.
Twenty-one years ago, King Hengshang had dispatched Prince Han to lead an army of 150,000 northward to wage war against the Di People.
However, herein lay the problem.
Prince Han was the beloved son of King Hengshang’s favourite concubine, Lady You.
According to King Hengshang’s plan, if Prince Han could win this battle, he intended to depose Crown Prince Huan and promote this younger son he favoured to heir apparent.
But neither Crown Prince Huan nor the Queen was a fool.
How could they not have been aware of King Hengshang’s intentions? If Prince Han ascended to the throne, both the Queen and the Crown Prince would be doomed.
To protect themselves, before Prince Han led the army out to battle, Crown Prince Huan fled to the Jing Kingdom—his mother's homeland.
Marquis Jing, the ruler of Jing and the Queen’s father, was enraged upon learning the situation.
As the Queen’s father, if she were deposed and the Crown Prince killed, Marquis Jing’s own fate would be grim.
Immediately, Marquis Jing devised a ruthless and cunning plan.
He secretly informed the Di People of Heng State’s army movements, leading to the catastrophic defeat of Heng’s 150,000-strong force, with fewer than 50,000 returning home.
Soon after, Marquis Jing allied with the Di People to break through Heng State’s capital, Xiangdu.
King Hengshang was killed during his flight, and his favoured concubine, Lady You, was captured by the Di People and has since vanished without a trace.
After King Hengshang’s death, Marquis Jing supported Crown Prince Huan to ascend as King of Heng.
However, at that time, Xiangdu remained under Di control, forcing King Huan of Heng to relocate the capital to the Shanghe River Basin in the southeastern region. After King Huan of Heng ascended the throne, Marquis Jing, riding on the success of his support, also began his path of expansion.
By now, the Jing Kingdom had successively annexed more than a dozen neighbouring states, becoming the dominant power in the central and western regions of Heng State, boasting over a hundred cities!
Lord Yan Yun said bitterly, "Marquis Jing is a treacherous rebel who has brought chaos to the world; he is truly detestable."
After speaking, Lord Yan Yun looked towards Zhang Yang and sighed helplessly, "Ten years ago, the Yuan State was also swallowed up by the Jing Kingdom."
Zhang Yang’s expression changed abruptly, and the suppressed emotions within him erupted uncontrollably.
His own hardships turned out to be nothing more than insignificant ripples in others’ schemes, as if he were merely a passerby.
The memories echoed in his mind:
The agony of parting from his wife and daughter.
The mournful cries of his villagers slain in tragedy.
The pain of his own death in battle. Twenty-one years of emptiness.
"Hahaha—!"
Zhang Yang laughed in desperation.
Triggered, the veins beneath his skin twisted and writhed like earthworms.
Through the agony, he seemed to see his wife, witnessing her die in pain, unable to find peace even in death.
The blood within him began to boil wildly, a deafening roar filled his eardrums, as if thousands of horses and soldiers were rampaging and clashing violently within his veins.
Staggering, he crashed into the tavern wall; shards of stone flew and embedded themselves into his skin, though he felt nothing—only his heart pounding as if it would burst from his chest.
With a heart-wrenching roar, a golden light flashed deep within Zhang Yang’s pupils. The once-swollen veins began to contract and rearrange, the boiling blood flowing along new channels like rivers returning to the sea.
Qi and blood surged, and from within him came the sound of ten thousand horses thundering!
He had broken through to the Rushing Blood Realm!
Yet at that moment, Zhang Yang felt no joy in his breakthrough—only worry for his wife and fury towards Marquis Jing.
Overwhelmed by the intense stimulation and exhaustion from days of travelling, Zhang Yang’s vision darkened just after breaking through, and he collapsed to the floor.
Before losing consciousness, he faintly noticed Lord Yan Yun’s anxious expression.
After an unspecified length of time, Zhang Yang gradually awoke from his coma.
Beneath him was a soft bed draped with fox fur and silk.
In front of him was a delicate face, just as charming when smiling as when cross.
Her skin was as pale as snow, her features as blooming as flowers, petite and exquisite.
Seeing him awake, the young woman smiled happily, “Sir, you’re awake.”
Then, bowing deeply, she introduced herself, “I am Rou’er, an attendant from Lord Yan’s Residence, sent here by order to look after you.” Zhang Yang gave a slight nod, his voice hoarse: “How long have I been asleep?”
Rou’er thought for a moment and replied, “Two days.”
“The doctor said you were already physically weak, and you weren’t in the right condition when you broke through, so you got injured. If you don’t rest properly, you might be left with lingering complications.”
“Sir, please wait a moment. I’ll go notify Lord Yan.”
With that, Rou’er ran off like a cheerful little rabbit.
After a short while, Lord Yan Yun hurried into the room.
His gaze was earnest as he strode over to the bedside and sat down, offering comfort: “You are physically weak and still need some time to recover.”
“But rest assured, I will use the finest medicines to treat you. You will definitely be restored to your former self.”
Then Lord Yan Yun added with admiration, “Sir, you truly are a gifted man. Although I have met many prodigies, I have never seen anyone like you, one who, at this age, has cultivated the Way of the Shaman to the Rushing Blood Realm.”
Listening to Lord Yan Yun’s rambling, Zhang Yang felt somewhat irritated. Yet, he endured it. After all, he was currently relying on others for food and drink, and had to trouble them with his medical care—he couldn't afford to be too demanding.
When Lord Yan Yun finally paused, Zhang Yang cupped his fists and said, “There is one thing I would like to ask you to help with.”
“If it is convenient for you, could you please inquire about the situation in Yuan State?”
Lord Yan Yun readily agreed. “Certainly.”
This was a trivial matter for him. After agreeing, he immediately turned to instruct the attendants to handle it.
Then, without further disturbance, he bowed and took his leave.
Zhang Yang exhaled, lay back on the bed, and stared up at the ceiling, his gaze somewhat unfocused.
Rebirth was certainly a blessing.
But after twenty-one years, it left him feeling somewhat helpless, even a little anxious.
He had too many questions.
Too many things he couldn’t understand.
With a deep sigh, Zhang Yang closed his eyes and slipped back into sleep.
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Since Zhang Yang had regained consciousness, Lord Yan Yun had been unusually eager, coming to greet him three times a day—morning, noon, and evening—with great enthusiasm.
There were quite a few cultivators in Heng State at the Copper Level of Strength.
Though not five hundred, there were at least four hundred of them.
However, cultivators at the Rushing Blood Realm numbered fewer than ten across the entire Heng State.
All of them were renowned powerhouses throughout the land. Such a figure, even Lord Yan had never encountered before.
The Yan Kingdom was too small to catch anyone’s attention.
But now, things were different.
Lord Yan eagerly hoped to win Zhang Yang over with sincerity.
Only, that morning,
“Ah, it’s you, sir. What do you think of my garden?”
Lord Yan feigned a chance encounter in the garden.
Zhang Yang was speechless.
Couldn't the man see the state the garden was in? It was the dead of winter; all the flowers had withered and died.
At noon,
Zhang Yang, dressed lightly, rested beneath a tree, listening to the howling cold wind. He felt his blood surging, immense power gathering within him.
“Good day, sir. You also enjoy the sounds of heaven and earth? Hah, I, well, I do as well,” Lord Yan Yun stammered, shivering in his thin clothes but forcing himself to say he liked it.
At night,
Zhang Yang sat cross-legged beneath the eaves, organising his thoughts and planning for the future.
Lord Yan Yun once again showed up uninvited, warmly inviting him: “Sir, I have recently acquired several beauties. They are southern maidens, brought here at great expense, gentle as water, supple as if boneless, excelling in both song and dance.”
Zhang Yang was speechless.
I’m still on the mend, not fully recovered yet. Is he trying to throw me an orgy or something?
A month and a half later, the people Lord Yan Yun had dispatched finally brought back intelligence from Yuan State.
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