Chapter Sixty-One: A Heart Turned Cold

Li Shao joined forces with Huangfu Weiming, and their combined army surged in strength. Together, they submitted a memorial to the court, requesting permission to pursue the enemy and seize more territory. The Tubo kingdom had lost tens of thousands of elite soldiers, and even their most troublesome national preceptor, Kuduozha, was missing and presumed dead—an utter rout. Now was indeed the wisest moment to press the advantage.

Emperor Xuanzong was overjoyed and did not hold the crown prince accountable for leading troops without permission; instead, he generously rewarded the two men, promising even greater honors upon their triumphant return to the capital.

After the victory banquet hosted by his senior brother, the members of the Langzi Battalion had no desire to linger. Though Huangfu Weiming offered them a few words of praise and some gold and silver, Li Shao’s repeated invitations could not persuade them to stay.

Li Guangbi left the central command tent alongside the Langzi Battalion. All were heavy-hearted.

Zhang Chengxing complained, “I never expected that neither the crown prince nor Senior Brother Huangfu would mention the contribution of our Langzi Battalion. Poor Dai Yang sacrificed both his legs and won’t even receive the court’s compensation.”

Li Guangbi replied, “The crown prince had little choice. Marching out of the capital with troops without imperial consent is a grave offense. He fears his achievements will be diminished if shared with others. It’s not only the Langzi Battalion—he didn’t even mention the immortal-like Li Bi to the emperor.”

“Bah! Don’t mention Li Bi again,” Nan Jiyun said, his face contorted with grief and anger. “If not for his repeated interference, we could have reached Lanye City in time, and maybe Dai Yang wouldn’t be crippled, maybe Yu Lang would not be missing, dead or alive!”

“What’s most infuriating is that our so-called Senior Brother Huangfu looks down on the Langzi Battalion. We traveled two thousand li to come to their aid, only to be brushed off with a few perfunctory words. Honestly…” Even the normally good-natured Yang Xu could not hold back his resentment.

Li Guangbi smiled. “You’re all still young. It’s natural to harbor illusions about such prominent figures. When you’re older, you’ll understand: in their eyes, sentiment means nothing—only interest matters. If you’re valuable, they’ll treat you warmly as a brother; if not, you could die of hunger by the roadside, and they wouldn’t spare you a moment’s pity.”

“That’s why, to earn the greatest goodwill the world has to offer, to make people treat you kindly, even if only on the surface, you must strive to stand at the highest reaches.” Li Guangbi was fond of this group of young men—he saw in them a reflection of his own youth, and qualities he now lacked.

Li Dahu walked silently behind Qingqing, deeply worried about her state of mind.

Ever since learning of Yu Lang’s misfortune, Qingqing had not spoken a word to anyone. Each day, she clung to the grindstone knife Yu Lang had left behind, as if only the cold blade could bring her a hint of warmth.

And speaking of the grindstone knife, Li Dahu felt another wave of anger. At the time, Huangfu Weiming had tried to confiscate the knife under the pretext of reclaiming strategic materials, classifying Yu Lang as a fallen soldier and demanding his armor and sword be handed over as well. Li Dahu nearly came to blows with him over this. The image of Huangfu Weiming’s relentless face was etched into Li Dahu’s mind. If not for the intervention of the crown prince’s Heavenly Strategy Army officers, who testified that the knife was Yu Lang’s personal belonging, Qingqing would have lost even that last memento.

“To have been classmates with a hypocrite like Huangfu Weiming is the greatest shame of my life,” Li Dahu finally blurted out, youthful indignation rising. “We rode two thousand li to save a man like him—perhaps even Director Chen isn’t much better!”

The other students, knowing the grievances Li Dahu had suffered, all echoed his indignation.

Li Guangbi burst out laughing. “That’s a new one—I’ve never heard anyone say that Chen Wuning might be a decent man!”

Xue Wenyang asked, “Brother Li, could you tell us more? We only know the director from studying at Moonwashing Academy; we don’t know his true character.”

“It’s no wonder. For matters like this, the Academy would make every effort to keep it secret. Chen Wuning was once a favored companion of Princess Taiping.”

The Moonwashing students were shocked. A companion, after all, was merely a kept man. Their hearts filled with scorn for Director Chen, who had always seemed so aloof—what man would willingly debase himself in such a way?

Li Guangbi continued, “Of the princess’s three hundred companions, Chen Wuning was the most powerful. In his early thirties, he had already reached the Enlightened Profound realm. At that time, Li Longji’s greatest supporter, Sword Saint Pei Wen, was only a teenager at the peak of the Shattering Illusion realm. But Pei Wen, even at that level, had already slain over a dozen cultivators of the mid-Enlightened Profound realm!”

To defeat Enlightened Profound cultivators while only at the Shattering Illusion peak—such tales made the students of Moonwashing Academy long to witness the Sword Saint’s glory. They thought also of Li Bi, who, though similarly young, had already reached the Formless realm—truly, a talent even more monstrous than the Sword Saint.

“Li Longji expected a bitter struggle with Princess Taiping, yet her favorite, Chen Wuning, took advantage of her sleep, cut off her head, and presented it to Li Longji.”

“No wonder Director Chen is so trusted by His Majesty,” Li Dahu muttered.

Zhang Chengxing spat, “Bah, Chen Wuning is worthless. Enlightened Profound realm, and he didn’t even have the courage to face Pei Wen! Surviving by offering up a woman’s head—what a disgrace…”

“You can’t blame him for being afraid. Everyone knows: under the Sword Saint’s blade, there are no victories or defeats—only corpses.”

Those who lost to the Sword Saint died, and those who won died all the same. Even if you could defeat him, you would never live to tell the tale.

“And then?” someone asked.

“Afterward, Chen Wuning was hunted by Princess Taiping’s followers, escaping death countless times, like a stray dog. He even tried to become Pei Wen’s disciple to avoid pursuit—one can only marvel at his shamelessness.

“But Pei Wen, proud and solitary, despised such a man. With that plan foiled, Chen Wuning joined the Moonwashing Academy. The director at the time, Liu Changqing, was known for his virtue and took pity on him, accepting him into the Academy. Yet within a few years, Liu Changqing died a mysterious death, and Chen Wuning inherited his position as director. It’s said that he discovered a great treasure within the Academy—rumor has it that with this treasure’s protection, not even the Sword Saint could touch him. Only then did his enemies give up their quest for revenge.”

“So, instead of returning to Moonwashing Academy to study under that old tortoise, why don’t you come to Chang’an with me?” Li Guangbi’s tone grew inviting. “Become soldiers, follow my lead—within ten years, I guarantee you’ll all be pillars of the Great Tang.”

The students of Moonwashing Academy were no fools; they recognized his attempt to recruit them, and suspected there was some exaggeration in his tale.

Li Dahu clasped his hands together. “In the Langzi Battalion, we follow Yu Lang. We’ll decide when he returns. It’s too soon to judge Director Chen’s character, but we have learned a great deal at Moonwashing Academy, and we intend to see it through.”

Li Guangbi, easygoing as ever, nodded and did not press the matter. “Then let us meet again in Chang’an someday!” With that, he spurred his horse and vanished into the distance.

“Yu Lang isn’t coming back,” Qingqing murmured. Her once-bright eyes were now utterly lifeless.

Li Dahu’s heart ached at the sight.