Nightwatcher

# 351. The Divine and Majestic Silver Gong Xu

“Everyone on the ground!”

Chu Xianglong shouted, his body instinctively moving to shield the unassuming maid, but he forcefully restrained himself, turning instead to protect the “real” princess consort.

The massive boulder descended with a deafening roar, its force cutting through the air like a gale.

Yang Yan reached behind him, grasping the silver spear slung across his back. With a slight flick of the spearhead, the crimson tassel at its tip flared out.

With a loud crack, the colossal boulder, which could have crushed half the delegation into pulp, shattered into tiny fragments that rained down like gravel.

The shards clattered harmlessly against the soldiers’ armour and helmets. Unprotected maids huddled on the ground, clutching their heads as the guards shielded them from debris.

After this probing attack, a brief silence fell. The enemy made no immediate move.

Xu Qi’an squinted and gazed upward. In the dense forest above, a towering figure stood. Its height exceeded ten feet, overshadowing the trees. Thick black fur covered its massive body, which was not bulging with muscle but layered with a thick padding of fat. Its coarse features and hairy face twisted into a bloodthirsty grin as it licked its lips, gazing down at the delegation with murderous intent.

From the southern woods came the sound of trees collapsing in succession, as if some colossal creature was mowing them down.

Moments later, a massive black river dragon emerged from the forest. Its head alone was as large as a two-story pavilion, adorned with a black mane, black scales, and branched horns.

The portion of its body visible to the group stretched over sixty feet, and its full length likely exceeded a hundred yards. Cold, vertical pupils locked onto the delegation with chilling indifference.

*This river dragon is enormous, this size body isn’t even practical for combat… I remember in the ancient tomb Daoist Jinlian said that the Yao race don’t emphasise size… this dragon is descended from ancient demons?*

*Hm, perhaps the northern Yao clans all have some demonic inheritance, which is why they are two peas in a pod with the northern barbarians…* Xu Qi’an started making guesses.

*Gulp.*

Xu Qi’an heard someone swallowing nervously. Glancing around, he saw the delegation’s soldiers and guards frozen, their faces stiff with terror.

Fear of stronger creatures was a primal instinct.

Ordinary people, faced with a beast like this dragon, would likely soil themselves or flee in panic.

*So none of these soldiers fought in the Battle of Shanhai Pass? Hmm, except Chen Xiao—he shows no fear...* Xu Qi’an noted while appraising the “black bear” on the mountain and the river dragon to the south.

*If it’s just two rank fours, that’s manageable. I’ll teach them a lesson on how to be a man — um — a yaoguai.*

But then, as dread mounted in the group over the river dragon’s appearance, a silvery laugh suddenly echoed.

Another figure appeared.

It was a woman in a crimson dress, her black hair tied into a ponytail with a red ribbon. She strode gracefully through the overgrown wilderness, revealing red embroidered shoes with each step.

Wherever she walked, grass wilted, leaving barren, lifeless ground in her wake.

The arrival of this woman deepened the despair of the delegation.

“It’s them. It really is them...” Chu Xianglong murmured, more dazed than shocked at the turn of events.

At this point, one thing was certain: the barbarians not only knew about the princess consort’s journey to the northern border but had accurately predicted its timing and route.

The barbarians were far from the dull-witted brutes they were often made out to be.

What he was dazed by though was how on earth they knew of this in the first place.

“Three... rank fours?”

The High Court Deputy Justice gulped, his legs trembling slightly.

The two censors were pale, nearing collapse. Two rank fours might still be manageable, but three... The delegation’s current strength couldn’t contend with them. Even Yang Yan would likely be in grave danger.

Officials were still officials. If this were a great scholar from the Confucian Academy, the group might already be discussing how to counterattack or capture the enemy.

“Chu Xianglong, who are they?” Xu Qi’an barked, his tone sharp.

He reminded Chu Xianglong to provide intelligence. If these were northern barbarians or yao, Chu Xianglong would surely know their identities.

The experienced general took a deep breath to calm himself, though despair still lingered on his face.

“The black river dragon is Tangshan-Jun, Lord of Tang Mountain, one of the three leaders of the Dragon Clan, adept at manipulating water.

“The one on the mountain is Zalmukha, leader of the Heishui Tribe. Known for their immense strength, the Heishui Tribe is second only to the Strength Gu Clan of the shamans.

“As for the woman... she’s a serpent demon named Hongling. She and her kin are affiliated with the Qingyan Tribe. Hongling herself is the favored concubine of the tribe’s leader.”

Chu Xianglong hesitated before adding, his voice tinged with bitterness, “All three are rank fours.”

*So, they really are rank fours...* The High Court Deputy Justice nearly buckled, struggling to remain upright.

Amid the crowd, the unremarkable princess consort raised her head, quickly scanning the three rank fours before lowering it again, her body trembling in fear.

She was a timid woman, easily frightened even by ghost stories, and now found herself in a situation straight out of a nightmare.

Stories of northern barbarians depicted them as savage brutes who raided the borders, eating the men, violating the women, and then eating them too.

Her fate, should she fall into their hands, was all too clear.

…

The three powerhouses of the barbarian and yao clans silently listened as Chu Xianglong finished his explanation. The alluring woman named Hongling chuckled softly, her voice sweet and flirtatious.

"Ah, isn't this the Deputy General Chu under King Huai's command? After the battle at Duonao three years ago, I've been thinking about you day and night," she said.

Chu Xianglong snorted coldly. "The defeated have no right to boast."

"That's why I'm here today—to rekindle our old flame," she teased, her voice dripping with charm. Her sultry gaze swept over the envoy party, pausing briefly on the veiled princess consort before shifting away. After inspecting the group, she clicked her tongue and said:

"What a pitiful bunch of misfits. Other than Yang Yan, only you, General Chu, are barely passable. Hand over the princess consort, and I'll grant you a fleeting moment of ecstasy before you die."

Xu Qi’an's Vajra Divine Art remained concealed, with no radiant glow on his body.

"I want Yang Yan," boomed the towering figure in the treetops, his voice thundering like a storm. "The rest are yours—kill, eat, or capture, I don’t care."

"How did you track the envoy?" a voice rang out from among the group.

Tangshan-Jun, the black river dragon, glanced briefly at the speaker but offered no response. In contrast, Zalmukha, standing high above, kept his gaze fixed solely on Yang Yan.

Only Hongling showed some interest. Seeing the speaker was the handsome Silver Gong, she fluttered her eyelashes flirtatiously and giggled, "Why don't you guess?"

_Such a flirt,_ Xu Qi’an thought, gripping his black-gold saber tightly. He remained calm despite her taunts, lighting a piece of paper discreetly with his other hand.

*To be crass, a woman in all red is a flirt or a romantic, a man in all white is a femboy or gay… from what information Chu Xianglong revealed, none of these fourth ranks excelled at tracking… so there’s only two possibilities: we have a traitor, or they have unseen allies.*

_Hm? There's no trace of other strong presences nearby. That’s strange._

Xu Qi’an sneered. "I guess you have an Arcanist helping you."

Hongling’s smile froze, her gaze sharpening as she re-evaluated him. "How do you know that?" she demanded.

Tangshan-Jun and Zalmukha both cast a surprised glance at Xu Qi’an.

_So it is an Arcanist,_ Xu Qi’an thought. _Not too bright, are you? Gave it away so easily._ Outwardly, he remained composed, though his heart sank.

The mere mention of "Arcanist" triggered a near-automatic response of unease in him. The Jianzheng, who had manipulated him so thoroughly, and the mysterious Arcanist suspected of implanting fortune into his body—both were unresolved threats looming over him.

_Could this ambush involve the same Arcanist?_ he speculated. _If so, the target is likely me, not the princess. But that doesn’t align. They wouldn’t act now, fearing the divine monk Shenshu within me._

Xu Qi’an withheld any response, leaving Hongling visibly annoyed. Her smile turned cruel. "No matter, you're just a little Silver Gong. When I kill you later, I'll make sure to savour it."

With that, she turned away, focusing her attention back on Tangshan-Jun and Zalmukha. "You can take Yang Yan. The rest, including Chu Xianglong, are mine," she said, grinning.

Zalmukha scoffed. "I can deal with Yang Yan myself."

Tangshan-Jun raised his head and unleashed an earth-shattering roar.

The ground ahead of the envoy suddenly caved in, releasing a torrent of muddy underground water. The dirty stream spiraled upward, forming a massive water tornado that hurtled toward the envoy party.

_An AoE attack right off the bat,_ Xu Qi’an thought, biting down on the Confucian spellbook he carried.

Yang Yan sprang into action, charging toward the water tornado with his silver spear. With a powerful thrust, he pierced into the vortex, his voice ringing out in a low growl as he twisted the spear.

The water tornado instantly collapsed, drenching the battlefield in filthy rain.

As Yang Yan shattered the attack, Tangshan-Jun lunged forward, his colossal dragon body—over a hundred meters long—charging like an unstoppable force. On the battlefield, such a charge could easily annihilate a thousand cavalry.

Meanwhile, Zalmukha leaped down from the treetops, his towering figure shaking the earth as he descended toward Yang Yan.

"Ahaha…" Amidst the chaos, Hongling appeared, wielding twin blades as she darted like a phantom toward Yang Yan.

Their earlier words had been a ruse. Their true target was Yang Yan, whom they aimed to kill as swiftly as possible. The realisation struck the envoy party, filling them with dread and despair.

"Loose the arrows!" bellowed Chen Xiao.

Hundreds of imperial guards drew their crossbows, aiming at Tangshan-Jun and Zalmukha. Bolts struck their bodies but shattered harmlessly, unable to penetrate their defenses.

At that moment, Chu Xianglong suddenly hoisted the veiled princess onto his shoulder and fled the battlefield, leaving the envoy party behind.

Chu's loyal guards followed suit, carrying the maidservants as they scattered in different directions.

This was a contingency plan Chu had devised long ago: if they faced an overwhelming threat, the guards would flee with the maids. That way, even if captured, the enemy would only seize a decoy princess.

The real princess was hidden among the maids. With each group fleeing separately, the chances of her escaping safely increased dramatically.

"Bastard!" the High Court Deputy roared in fury.

Constable Chen of the Ministry of Law, clenched his fists, his eyes bloodshot.

If it weren’t for Chu Xianglong, how could the delegation find themselves in this predicament?

Last night, the official ship was ambushed, yet the envoy group did not expel Chu Xianglong. Instead, they analysed the situation and resolved to bear the brunt together, enduring hardships as one.

But who would have thought that, when danger struck, Chu Xianglong would so ruthlessly abandon them without hesitation?

To him, the hundred-plus people of the envoy group were merely expendable pawns, disposable chess pieces meant to shield him. In the moment of peril, he cast them aside to secure his own safety.

"That beast!" the Censor cursed furiously.

"We're doomed, we're doomed... What now?" The three civil officials wore despair on their faces.

The hundred Imperial Guards, filled with righteous indignation, had already steeled themselves for death. Discarding their crossbows, they drew their battle blades.

At that moment, Xu Qi’an said in a steady voice, "Boss, you handle the woman. Leave the other two to me."

"You..."

Just as Chief Constable Chen of the Ministry of Law was about to say, _How can you, a mere Silver Gong, take on two fourth-rank opponents?_ a thought struck him. He recalled Xu Qi’an's recent feats—two hands suppressing both Heaven and Man.

Without hesitation, Yang Yan dragged his silver spear into a sprint. Twisting his body mid-charge, he swung the spear in a sweeping arc.

_Whoosh!_

The spear shaft bent slightly, whistling sharply through the air.

_Clang!_

The woman in the red dress crossed her daggers to block, fending off the horizontal sweep of the spear.

Yang Yan released his grip on the spear, darted forward a few steps, and leapt with a fierce knee strike.

The red-dressed woman was sent flying, spitting venom mid-air. But Yang Yan evaded each drop with ease. The venom hit the ground, corroding the earth.

Yang Yan gripped the spear tip, spun, and swung it upward in a devastating arc.

_Clang!_

The spear struck the woman's head, emitting a piercing metallic ring. Her pupils dilated, as if her very soul had left her body.

Seizing the opportunity, Yang Yan unleashed a flurry of hundreds of spear thrusts. The barrage of attacks, infused with spear intent, poured down like a storm. The woman’s skin was covered with a layer of scales, and sparks flew with every strike.

Though she was not in mortal danger, she reeled in pain under the fury of blows.

"What are you doing? Help me!" the woman shrieked, her gaze darting toward the envoy group.

The next moment, her expression froze, as if she had seen an illusion.

On the other side, Xu Qi’an flicked away some ashes and extended a hand toward the black river dragon, commanding, "Lay down your butcher’s blade; become a buddha where you stand."

The ferocious river dragon, mid-charge, came to a screeching halt, its cold vertical pupils dazed with confusion. It seemed to regret its aggression, as if wondering why it was so impulsive and violent.

_All life is precious—plants, animals, and especially humans._

_Clatter!_ Weapons clattered to the ground. On the envoy's side, the Imperial Guards collectively dropped their blades, their faces reflecting deep introspection.

_Could humans and yao not coexist peacefully?_

_Buddhist magic is truly toxic..._ Xu Qi’an thought with a hint of mockery. He sank into a half-crouch and looked up at the giant Zarmukha, who was descending from the mountain like a thunderous avalanche.

"Take my Indomitable Vajra Headbutt!"

With a rumble, the ground cracked beneath him as he shot skyward like a firework. A golden gleam spread from a dot on his forehead, racing across his body.

_Boom!_

He collided headfirst with the giant, the impact sending waves rippling through Zarmukha's layers of fat.

The two separated after the blow.

By this time, the Buddhist restraining spell had faded. Clarity returned to the river dragon's eyes, but instead of resuming its assault, it cautiously watched Xu Qi’an, its vertical pupils gleaming with wariness.

Landing with a ground-shaking thud, Zarmukha scrutinized Xu Qi’an with suspicion.

"An unbreakable Vajra? A monk of the Buddhist Sect?" the river dragon growled, speaking human words. Flames of hatred ignited in its cold eyes.

The yao race and the Buddhist Sect shared an ancient enmity—grievances and rivers of blood stretching across generations.

"Did... Did Silver Gong Xu just fight two fourth-rank experts by himself?" the High Court Deputy Justice asked in a tone seeking confirmation.

"He already did so at the Wei River... and he won!" Two censors exclaimed, joy lighting their faces as they recalled Xu Qi’an’s feats.

In that moment, they felt as though the impassable mountains had parted, revealing a bright path ahead.

_He even has a Confucian spellbook!_ Chief Constable Chen’s eyes landed on the scroll Xu Qi’an held between his teeth.

As a seventh-rank martial artist, Chen knew the significance of the battle at Wei River. Back then, he had been jealous—jealous of Xu Qi’an’s fame, of his Confucian spellbook.

_Without that book, what is Xu Qi’an but a sixth-rank martial artist? In the capital, he’d be nothing!_

Yet now, seeing Xu Qi’an with that spellbook, Chen felt a deep sense of relief.

_Thank heavens he has that book. Thank heavens._

"Silver Gong Xu!"

The hundred Imperial Guards lit up with awe, gazing at Xu Qi’an as if he were a divine figure.

In dire times, a leader who steps forth to turn the tide is more revered, more beloved, than the emperor himself.

Chen Xiao picked up his sabre, swinging it high as newfound determination coursed through him. He roared, "Brothers, raise your blades and fight alongside Sir Xu!"

"Fight alongside Sir Xu!" the hundred Imperial Guards roared in unison, their morale soaring.

Gone was their terror; their hearts brimmed with valour and fighting spirit.

For soldiers, nothing is more glorious than fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with a leader they admire, even if it means dying on the battlefield.

The High Court Deputy Justice and the censors’ guards, inspired by the Guards’ shouts, felt their own blood boil, their fear vanishing like morning dew.

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