Chapter 1101: Chapter 613: More Milk (Double Chapter, Part 2)

The decline in realm has always been taboo in Jianghu, not just for one’s Martial Arts, but even more for it to be known by others, especially by enemies. Hence, Chen Yi is extra cautious about this and won’t easily reveal even the slightest clue.

"I heard the wind, the wind told me." Donggong Ruoshu paused, guessing softly, "I guess, you now have less than thirty percent of your past strength."

Chen Yi remained silent for a moment, neither affirming nor denying.

He was just thinking, if only he still had thirty percent...

Although Dragon and Tiger Mountain has spiritual pills and medicine, the Immortal Medical Skills of Zhou Yitang and Primordial Monarch Yu Zhen exceed the ordinary, yet even so, this incident of going mad was astonishingly strange. If it hadn’t alerted those unreachable Heavenly People, Chen Yi would have had no other fate than to vanish into smoke, and becoming a cripple would be considered an extraordinary fortune. Now, not only has he kept his life, but he still holds two parts of less than twenty percent Martial Arts, which is a blessing amidst misfortune.

The carriage horse tirelessly pulls the cart forward; the mountain road is rugged, twisting and extending deep inside. Chen Yi gazes far ahead, wondering with his current Martial Arts realm, what kind of fate would await him if he met Qin Qingluo unprepared.

The reins gently tremble in his hand,

Suddenly, fear struck him...

...

It has been more than three hundred years since Great Yu’s founding, with all the ailments of previous dynasties such as corrupted governance, government embezzlement, and households fleeing registration. However, thanks to the Western Jin’s looming threat externally and internal chaos constantly arising, Great Yu’s military preparedness isn’t overly slack.

As if it still has some vitality, just living on the edge of decay.

Sentry Officer Hao Mao rides at the head, leading a team along the mountain path patrol; since Great Yu’s founding, it’s always been a garrison system, setting up garrisons in various places, farming and stationing soldiers, self-sufficient, often with only twenty percent of the forces on duty; however, recently, the forces on duty have intensified, up to forty percent, even their well-trained soldiers have been mobilized.

As for the reason... since Great Yu’s founding three hundred years ago, the closer to the border, the more garrisons there are; first, guarding against Western Jin and then Guizhou, naturally guarding against the hereditary Prince of Annan.

In recent years, the Lin Party stirred chaos in the capital, falsely transmitting edicts summoning the Prince of Annan to enter Beijing for loyalty, seemingly lightly handled but actually shook the court greatly; the entire Guizhou area was purged, more than a few colleagues known to Hao Mao were either exiled, beheaded, or couldn’t escape imprisonment.

Even until today, the aftermath has yet to settle; it’s heard that refugees are fleeing and migrating into the Southern Border; the court has issued orders sternly guarding all gateways.

Until the Forbidden Army takes over.

A sentry unit numbers between ninety to one hundred, no more than two hundred soldiers or one hundred cavalry; due to shortages and budgetary corruption, Hao Mao has only over sixty men, with most scattered to patrol other mountain paths, leaving only twenty-plus beside him.

Hao Mao parted the forest treetops, raising his head to look as hard as he could, seeing a long refugee line coming hurriedly.

"Let’s go, follow me to drive them off." Hao Mao raised his whip, shouting an order.

The sound of hooves suddenly arose, stepping on the mountain path, as several cavalry followed Hao Mao, quickly surrounding this group of refugees in an open area. These refugees, facing starvation, looked panic-stricken but didn’t scatter, instead clustered towards the foremost carriage.

Hao Mao was baffled but still drove his horse forward, shouting loudly, "Get off the carriage! Report your name! Where are you heading? Permits!"

Saying this, Hao Mao prepared to draw his knife, shouting these few words merely as a formality; after all, these refugees surely wouldn’t have permits, whenever they discover refugees, they drive them off with whips and knives, enrolling them locally or driving them back to their origin, it’s all about the same, as long as they aren’t allowed into the Southern Border.

There have been instances of resistance and disturbance, all dealt with on the spot through killing, ending the matter once and for all.

Hao Mao raised his knife, riding close,

For quite a while, only to see a simply dressed man take off his hat, leaping off the carriage.

He picked up a pebble from the ground, flicking it out.

A blood hole burst on the horse’s neck, blood gushing, the man and horse flipped over.

"Bandits, bandits! Protect the Sentry Officer!"

Amidst chaotic cries, several soldiers rushed over, guarding beside Hao Mao, who awkwardly pulled out the foot pressed under the horse belly, face filled with terror.

The man just stood in front of him, silently waiting, as if gripping his throat without a sound.

"...They have permits, go! Do not obstruct!"

With that said, Hao Mao watched the man slowly turn back, returning to the carriage.

He exhaled, promptly flipping onto a subordinate’s horse, not daring to intercept.

The refugee line moved again, like an inky grey river, slowly flowing towards the Southern Border.

......

For fear of being pursued, this matter should have been buried deep within, after all, the man on the carriage is certainly not an ordinary Martial Artist, recklessly provoking might risk one’s life.

However, tonight the long-awaited Forbidden Army finally arrived, taking over this garrison.

Moreover, the Forbidden Army’s Assistant General specifically named to see Hao Mao.

Hao Mao tremblingly lifted the curtain, entering to see the Assistant General clad in iron armor.

He was a middle-aged man, dark-featured, with robust arms, his suit of armor showed a dark red sheen between the seams, reportedly a familial heirloom, his ancestors contributed with Martial achievements bestowed by the Holy Emperor to keep the armor; seeing him, a palpable bloody aura wafted over.

His surname was Yang, first name Chongwei.

"Did you let a group of refugees go today?" he asked.

Hao Mao shook his head tremblingly, "Yes..."

"Why did you privately release without reporting?"

"Assistant General, there’s a master inside, I, I..." Hao Mao suddenly kneeled, mind spinning rapidly, stammered long afterward, "I fear it’s someone from the Southern Border."

The statement was vague, yet the implication was clear, only thus involved with the Annan Royal Mansion could Hao Mao preserve his military rank or even life.

Yang Chongwei squinted, scrutinizing him, "No outsiders here... do you mean you fear someone from the Annan Royal Mansion?"

"Correct... with just a pebble, he pierced my horse, and... has Sword Qi... I, the officer, don’t know how to say..." Hao Mao murmured incoherently.

Yang Chongwei squinted eyes tighter, first having Hao Mao taken outside, then beckoned to his left. His deputy moved forward, lowering head to listen.

"Tomorrow, I’ll lead people to intercept, have your men prepared."

"...General, are you going to make such a big move? What if they’re just a group of refugees."

"At this time, an expert entering the Southern Border, if not Divine Sect, it’s likely to be the Prince Mansion, and who knows... what’s hidden among that group of refugees. We just assumed office, kill this villain, send the word to Southern Border, warn others by example."

After explaining, noticing the deputy’s concern, he said:

"I’ve made up my mind, don’t overthink, go."

"Yes."

......

Annan Royal Mansion.

Recently, the mansion is bustling, whether it’s soothing refugees, or deploying troops, and allocating grain reserves, all must be decided by the female Prince, issuing decrees; deciding on jurisdiction and constructing buildings, among other tasks, are piled like a mountain.

Busy from top to bottom, even the usually leisurely inner-mansion maids are busy walking back and forth, affecting Qin Yue; lately, she’s constantly passed between nursemaids’ arms.

Qin Yue is nearly two years old, fair and chubby, extremely endearing; no matter which nursemaid sees her, all smiles and rejoices, and she appears smarter than others; not only did she early learn to call "Dad, Mom", now even adult conversations, she mostly understands.

Yet, as intelligent as Qin Yue is, there are some things she just can’t grasp.

A nurse can be called mom, but among her parents, it’s never her mom who feeds her, instead her "dad", her "Father Prince".

Qin Yue couldn’t comprehend at all.

Occasionally she wants to ask but doesn’t know how to express, only staring her big eyes at the tall "Father Prince", full of confusion.

Even during times when she truly wants to ask, just a mere glance from Qin Qingluo makes her instantly shrink back, afraid to ask.

Mom is better, mom doesn’t glower at her like that.

However, her "Father Prince" has some good points that mom can never match.

While thinking such, Qin Yue’s little ears caught some noise, the nursemaid holding her quickly stood up, adjacent maids bowing respectfully,

She recognized a tall figure, escaping from great busyness, pushing open the door, entering, picking her up from the nursemaid to hold in arms.

Qin Yue smacked her lips.

Time for milk again.