Volume One: The Hidden Dragon in the Abyss Chapter 81: On Martial Arts-Supreme Martial Arts(Marquis Ying)

Outside the city of Yanzhou, an old general, surrounded by several officers, gazed into the distance at the city ahead. The Prefect of Chuzhou was already past fifty, long since bereft of the passion and fighting spirit of his youth. He preferred caution in warfare.

In the recent pursuits against the Jin army, he believed he had seen through their intentions—should the Jin find an opportunity, they would surely flee east. Thus, he held fast to his own strategy, intent only on guarding the eastern line, indifferent to the criticism this drew from his allies.

In the end, the Jin army escaped northward. Yet two days prior, he had already memorialized the court, advising them to stretch their lines and block the northeast with a large force—but his counsel was not heeded, as the Emperor of Wei had redeployed troops to defend against the Jin invasion.

As predicted, the Jin army attacked the city, breaking through the gates of Luo City—a humiliation unprecedented for the state of Wei. Yet their soldiers were mere mortals; how could they contend with a man as extraordinary as Wang Chuan, whose methods bordered on the supernatural? That day, the army was lost in a dense, bewildering fog, and thunderbolts rained down upon the city gates from the heavens.

What were they supposed to do in the face of such means?

“My lord, let’s attack the city—there is no point in hesitating! Since we have secretly arrived here, we must seize Yanzhou while they are unprepared,” said the man beside him. “All that Wang Chuan has taken, I will reclaim, one account at a time.”

“Sixth Prince, you are here as an overseer, and nothing more,” the Prefect replied, glancing calmly and patiently at the impetuous young man beside him.

Yet the Sixth Prince never ceased to meddle along the journey, making it difficult for the Prefect to remain composed.

“How dare you disrespect me?” the Sixth Prince shot back coldly. “Shall I lodge a complaint with the Emperor?”

“I dare not. We each have our duties. The matter of the siege need not trouble Your Highness,” the Prefect responded earnestly.

His scouts had yet to return with their reports—how could one rush into an assault? Without proper deployment, without a plan, would they simply charge headlong?

The Emperor had dispatched his son here for training, but the Prefect doubted the boy would gain much from it. It was said he had been raised in the army from childhood, but had learned little of military affairs. Life had simply been too comfortable for him.

“I heard, Your Highness, that you and Prince Wang Chuan were once friends,” the Prefect remarked casually.

“What is your point in mentioning him?” the Sixth Prince replied angrily.

“Tell me, do you think someone like Prince Wang Chuan rose to prominence overnight, or was he always hiding his talent? For more than a decade, he lived in obscurity, acting the fool, yet in such an environment he honed astonishing abilities and virtues,” the Prefect smiled. “Both in Wei and Jin, the monarchs have all endured hardship to reach their thrones. Thus, they can endure what ordinary men cannot and reap far greater rewards. These rulers may not be remembered for all eternity, but their reigns shone brightly. Yet for the next generation, some princes have grown up too comfortably—it is not a good thing.”

He seemed to speak with deliberate meaning.

“Wang Chuan is nothing but a vile scoundrel. If I had been in Luo City, he would have had no chance to play his games. I would have exposed him for what he is,” the Sixth Prince retorted.

“Victory belongs to the conqueror. It was such a man who broke through the gates of Luo City, and the people remember his kindness with gratitude,” the Prefect replied. “He promised the people of two provinces food and money, and he delivered. Now the world knows that perhaps the Jin army only wanted passage, yet we pursued them relentlessly. I have said before: we should never have accepted them, or, having accepted, should not have struck at them. Some are greedy for small favors, but for the common people, a measure of grain means many days of survival. In times of war or disaster, it can save lives.”

“It was the same in Luo City—claiming soldiers had gone missing, when in fact we could produce no such men. It was all a fabrication. We cannot say so openly, but the people of Luo City likely believe the siege was justified.”

“He alone is fond of such acts, but grand ambitions are not so easily realized. Winning hearts means little; on the battlefield, it is true strength that matters,” the Sixth Prince insisted. “Besides, the world is vast—he cannot bestow favors upon every city he conquers. He is a hypocrite.”

Though his methods were questionable, few could achieve what he had.

The Prefect did not idolize such a man, but he found such opponents terrifying. He hoped never to face him again. However false his intentions, Wang Chuan used real gold and silver to win the people’s loyalty.

Once the scouts returned with intelligence on the area around Yanzhou, the Prefect ordered an immediate assault on the city. The moment must not be missed.

Suddenly, the thunder of war drums roared. Thousands of armored infantrymen, arranged in several formations and shielded by war chariots, advanced steadily toward the gates of Jiangzhou.

With fifty thousand troops deployed, their strength far exceeded that of earlier days. Now, they yearned to storm the city as Wang Chuan once had, breaking through in a single, overwhelming assault.

The siege engines were rectangular—about ten feet long and five feet wide, built from solid timber, with two rows of wooden wheels beneath, covered with tough hides and coated with thick mud to resist fire. The roofs arched in a triangular shape, designed to deflect rolling stones or logs hurled from the walls, earning them the name “pointed wooden rams.” In this age of cold steel, such armored vehicles were meant to approach city walls, carrying a dozen fully-armed soldiers within. Once at the walls, the troops, protected by the engine, could batter the gates or dig tunnels.

Cloud ladders, siege towers, and watchtowers—all essential tools for storming a city—were brought forward in succession.

Arrows rained down upon the ramparts, iron tips thudding into the battlements with sharp, crackling sounds.

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“The ruler of Jin sets his sights on the whole realm, but the Emperor of Wei is likely to focus all his strength on taking Yanzhou—one bite at a time,” Wang Chuan remarked. “So, who do you think will succeed?”

“Your Highness, you’re only here to avoid trouble, aren’t you? The ruler of Jin has been at this for years, but today he is bound to fail. It’s a pity—he planned so carefully, but left one flaw unguarded,” Qi Hao sneered. “You’re doing very well, Your Highness.”

“Everyone believes the ruler of Jin has shown me great favor, but in truth, it was I who helped him train his troops beyond the frontier. Driving out the northern barbarians was incidental—none of these emperors truly wished to do so; they all seek to rule the Central Plains or indulge in luxury,” Qi Hao sighed. “Again and again, they sent batches of soldiers, mostly new recruits—after passing through my hands, six or seven out of ten survived.”

“Then, Marquis, you will soon have disciples everywhere,” Wang Chuan said, gazing into the distance. “They have returned—all fine men.”

“Yes, they are all fine men,” Qi Hao replied sincerely, looking on with great satisfaction.

The Jin army returned to camp, the battle at last concluded.

It had been a one-sided slaughter. Across the ravaged battlefield, headless corpses of the northern barbarians lay everywhere. The decapitated numbered twenty thousand—almost none escaped, as the officers reported.

Wang Chuan seemed in high spirits; that night, upon returning, he wrote a poem, which lifted the morale of the entire army.

“In Harmony with Marquis Wu Cheng’s Border Song”

Under a black moon, wild geese fly high,
The chieftain slips away by night.
Light cavalry gives chase,
Snow fills the bow and blade.

By this time, the Wei army had already taken Yanzhou. Jin's reinforcements arrived, and the two sides fought to the death in the city. Rivers of blood flowed, and the scene was one of tragic heroism.

The forces thrown into the battle grew with each passing day, and the struggle became a seesaw war.

“Your Highness, you can sense it, can’t you? The Demon Emperor will emerge here, and I must summon the greatest warriors under heaven to destroy him!” exclaimed Tian Xingzi, who also enjoyed taking Wang Chuan up on the city walls to gaze at the view.

“The Demon Emperor… that Demon Emperor…” Wang Chuan always found his head aching whenever this topic arose. At present, he had little interest in confronting that figure—he simply did not wish to.

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