Tome of Troubled Times

Chapter 611: As Long As He’s Alive, There’s Hope

Chapter 611: As Long As He’s Alive, There’s Hope

Wan Dongliu’s threats were little more than impotent fury. He did not have the power to lead an army north.

Wherever there are people, there is a jianghu—a complex web of alliances, ambitions, and rivalries. This is especially true for organizations held together by the personal charisma and authority of a single leader. When such a leader falls, these groups often fracture overnight, with deputies or those of lower leadership positions carving out their own domains, fighting for resources, or even coveting the original leader’s position.

Although Wan Dongliu was a prominent young talent, he had not yet earned a place on the Ranking of Man and lacked the gravitas to command the Cao Gang’s vast ranks. It was exceedingly rare for anyone outside the likes of Zhao Changhe to leap from the Ranking of Hidden Dragons to the middle of the Ranking of Man. Most would be lucky just to avoid dropping off entirely.

Wan Dongliu was barely younger than Tang Buqi and would age out of the Ranking of Hidden Dragons in a couple of months, but his current ranking was noteworthy.

Among his peers, most of the top talents had already ascended to the Ranking of Man. Some had climbed the Ranking of Hidden Dragons, others had aged out, and there were also some who had perished during these troubled times.

The Ranking of Hidden Dragons had been shifting faster than any other ranking. At present, the first hidden dragon was Xuan Chong, while the second was Wan Dongliu himself. The third spot belonged to someone unexpected: Cui Yuanyang, who had become the youngest ever to enter the top three.

War has always been the greatest crucible for growth.

For an ordinary young martial artist, Wan Dongliu’s accomplishments were impressive. But they were far from enough to control the Cao Gang’s hundred thousand members, let alone maintain order among hardened martial artists and rebellious gentry in the midst of war.

If it were as simple as a son rallying his father’s followers, Wang Daoning would not have stopped after assassinating Wan Tianxiong. He would have hunted Wan Dongliu down and finished the job.

Wan Dongliu was in a precarious position. He did not even know if the next assassin might be one of his uncles or cousins. Without the support of loyalists of the Four Idols Cult, the Cao Gang might already have splintered into chaos. Talk of marching north was a fantasy.

When scouts reported that Zhao Changhe was crossing the river, Wan Dongliu left his father’s side and rushed to the outskirts to intercept him, hoping his friend could offer advice. He had not expected Lady Three and Xia Chichi to be with him. Their presence was a relief. The Cao Gang was, after all, affiliated with the Four Idols Cult. The arrival of Venerable Black Tortoise was a stabilizing force.

Wan Tianxiong had been attacked in Yangzhou while arranging the river defenses, preparing for a potential incursion from Tang Buqi. The northern origin of the assassin was an unexpected twist.

Fortunately, help was close by. Zhao Changhe hurried into the Wan family estate, and the first thing he saw was Wan Tianxiong lying in bed, motionless, like a corpse. He appeared to have stopped breathing.

The Turtle-Breathing Technique was a technique even Black Tortoise herself rarely used. In a world where the Tome of Troubled Times often broadcasted such things, it was of limited use. But this time, it had bought enough time for help to arrive.

Zhao Changhe placed his fingers on Wan Tianxiong’s wrist, checking his pulse. His expression darkened.

Wan Tianxiong’s chest had been crushed, his ribs shattered, and his heart and lungs severely damaged. Under normal circumstances, this was a fatal blow. The Wang Clan’s Heavenly Sea-Suppressing Palm was ferociously powerful. Now that Wang Daoning had reached the Profound Control Realm, the strike truly possessed the power to suppress the sea.

Wan Tianxiong’s profound cultivation and the Turtle-Breathing Technique had allowed him to keep a sliver of life within him. But what was the point? His heart had stopped. Technically, he was already a dead man, with only his brain still functioning. No medicine could cure this, and the Rejuvenation Art was not powerful enough to reverse death.

After a moment’s hesitation, Zhao Changhe fed Wan Tianxiong a drop of the Blood Ao’s blood. The blood was imbued with vigorous life force, and combined with the Rejuvenation Art, there was at least a chance to mend the ruptured organs. Of course, healing the damage alone would not guarantee survival—but it was a start.

“Lady Three.”

“Hm?”

“There’s energy of the water element wreaking havoc in his chest. Help me draw it out.”

“Alright.”

Wan Dongliu watched in stunned silence as Venerable Black Tortoise, docile as a gentle wife, obeyed Zhao Changhe without question. She placed her fingers lightly on his father’s chest.

Moments later, a translucent orb of water energy coalesced in Lady Three’s palm before dissipating into nothingness.

The sheer mastery of this display was breathtaking. Controlling water energy with such effortless grace was a feat only accessible to the highest-tier martial artists. Besides Black Tortoise herself, perhaps only the former Dragon King, Hai Pinglan, could achieve such a feat. The Wang Clan, by contrast, focused on suppressing water rather than wielding it—there was a subtle but significant difference.

This is the real Black Tortoise... Why is she so compliant?

Wan Dongliu turned his gaze to the saintess, Xia Chichi. She sat to the side, her expression anxious—not for the scene unfolding before her, but for the life of a crucial ally. She seemed oblivious to the dynamic between them.

Wan Dongliu rubbed his eyes, wondering if his grief and exhaustion were playing tricks on him.

But there was no time to dwell on such thoughts.

Beads of sweat glistened on Zhao Changhe’s forehead, his face growing increasingly pale. He was pushing his soul energy to the limit.

If this continued, he risked damaging his very soul.

Wan Dongliu’s lips tightened, a complex emotion welling in his chest. On a purely practical level, with the venerable and saintess here, Jianghuai was already secure. Zhao Changhe had no need to risk his own safety. If his father died, no one would blame Zhao Changhe.

Taking a darker view, his father’s loyalty to the Four Idols Cult was never absolute. Unlike Wan Dongliu, he had not been raised in the faith. To the cult, he might even have been seen as a destabilizing factor, someone better replaced sooner rather than later. If Wang Daoning’s strike had inadvertently done the cult a favor, was it not more convenient for him to remain dead?

Yet Zhao Changhe was fighting to save him anyway.

Why? What’s he risking his soul for?

Lady Three and Xia Chichi exchanged glances, both looking as though they wanted to speak but ultimately held their tongues.

“Brother Wan,” Zhao Changhe’s voice finally broke the silence, rough and strained.

Wan Dongliu jolted upright. “I’m here.”

Zhao Changhe asked, “If... your father remains in this state forever... could you accept that?”

Wan Dongliu stared at him, his lips trembling slightly, unable to form a response.

Zhao Changhe, his exhaustion palpable, said, “I’ve done everything I can. My skills are simply not enough... If you can give me more time, then perhaps I can try again.”

Wan Dongliu took a deep breath, his hand reaching out to feel his father’s breath.

The Turtle-Breathing Technique had been lifted. Wan Tianxiong’s breathing, though faint and fragile, had returned.

Wan Dongliu’s mind went blank for a moment. Then he heard Zhao Changhe continue, “I’ll prescribe more medicine... Assign someone to oversee his feeding and treatment. As long as he’s alive, there’s hope.”

As long as he’s alive, there’s hope.

The words struck something deep within Wan Dongliu. This stalwart man felt his nose sting, a wave of emotion threatening to surface. In a low voice, he said, “I will never forget this kindness, brother Zhao.”

Zhao Changhe shook his head. “We’re friends.”

Wan Dongliu pressed his lips together, saying nothing.

With trembling hands, Zhao Changhe retrieved a pill from his ring and swallowed it. The effort had clearly drained him. He spent a long while meditating, his breath gradually steadying. Then he spoke softly, “Lady Three, can you oversee things here in Jianghuai?”

Lady Three’s eyes narrowed. “What are you planning to do?”

“I don’t know the intricacies of the situation here. I won’t be much help. You, on the other hand....”

“I have no idea what’s going on here either.”

“Just put on your mask and stand there. Your presence alone is enough. Leave the rest to Dongliu. Once things are stabilized, decide whether to strike Langya directly or move on to Puyang. Adapt as needed.”

Lady Three pouted. “And you?”

“Wang Daoning has suddenly reached the Profound Control Realm and moved south to eliminate potential threats. His most likely next step is the capital. We didn’t consider this possibility. I don’t know what other advantages he has beyond the Profound Control Realm that make him bold enough to head to the capital, but if he dares, he must have a plan.” Zhao Changhe rubbed his temples, weariness etched into his features. “Wan Tianxiong was attacked the night before last. With Wang Daoning’s speed, he could be nearing the capital by now. I have to go immediately, or I may regret it.”