Chapter 102: Preparing for Battle (First Update)

In those first few days, the smooth progress had already seemed suspicious to Beichuan Maple. As the holy capital of the East, it was impossible that the younger generation would be so fragile and inexperienced in battle! He hadn’t expected to meet his reckoning so soon. Only now did he realize that the true masters had yet to emerge; those his side had defeated before were merely minor characters.

“Tomorrow! We await your arrival!” Beichuan Maple saluted Ye Feng in the air, then ordered his men to carry away the three unconscious figures.

“Good... The lackeys of the Holy Land, hurry up and get lost…”

“Wonderful... Teach those dogs a harsh lesson! They have no dignity!”

“To call yourselves an empire, yet you submit to the Holy Land—you're not worthy of being Easterners!”

Around them, a crowd of onlookers, their faces flushed with excitement, shouted as if energized, their voices booming across the square.

Listening to the roar of thousands below, Ye Feng felt goosebumps prickling all over his skin. He too was stirred by the scene, which revealed to him just how proud the people of the capital truly were.

Even when confronted by a power as immense as the Holy Land, they held onto their pride, regarding the envoys of the Blister Empire with utter disdain.

They dared to fight, dared to resist. They were a people who would not be conquered, whose nation could never be occupied, whose children could never be anyone’s slaves.

Such was their conviction. Or perhaps, it was a blind worship of their royal family.

There were many advantages to having cultivators govern the country. For instance, in times of flooding, instead of deploying thousands or tens of thousands of soldiers as in the secular world, a single high-level cultivator could soar through the skies and, with one sword strike, carve a canyon to redirect the waters.

In the capital, though idle prince and noble children might occasionally bully others, the benefits were undeniable: for example, if a thief sneaked into someone’s home at night, he would find himself unable to move before even making a move.

Such things were commonplace. The people of the empire had grown accustomed to this kind of royal family. They suffered little from excessive taxes, nor were there corrupt officials. Droughts almost never occurred anywhere.

This life—they did not wish it to be disrupted. All they desired was peace, a meal to eat, and a good life for their descendants. The royal family provided all this, and that was enough.

Though humble, they formed a vast collective, their will unshakable.

Ye Feng seemed to sense the thoughts stirring in these people's hearts. Something seemed to lodge inside him, but he continued to smile, brilliantly.

It was a nostalgic feeling. In his previous life, his homeland had its own adorable common folk, never demanding much, yet never subdued.

The people here were fortunate—their royal family was far superior to what he had known before.

Turning slowly, Ye Feng gazed at the excited young men and boys behind him. On their faces were smiles, sincere and radiant. In that moment, they were all proud.

“We are not fighting alone! We have powerful support behind us. What we do, someone will remember! What we give, the people will see it in their hearts!” With a gentle smile, Ye Feng spoke softly.

At his words, everyone fell silent, looking at Ye Feng. Only now did they understand why this youth, far younger than any present, resisted the Holy Land with such resolve.

He had risked offending most of the capital’s elite, suffered repeated assassination attempts, yet never gave up.

If he could persist, why should they abandon their cause? Yes, their actions were seen by the people—they would either be remembered for generations, or reviled forever.

In that instant, all the youth present felt a surge of heroic ambition—not for the Ye family, nor for the royal family, but for the million citizens of the capital, and so their descendants could be proud of their ancestors.

“Is the Holy Land so great? If we unite, even the King of Heaven would not daunt us!” From the back of the crowd, a young man in ornate attire stepped forward, voice trembling with excitement.

“Fifth Prince! Why are you here?” A young expert in the crowd stared at him in disbelief, eyes wide.

“Ye Feng! You did the right thing. Before, we were wrong! Without such breadth of vision, even if one sits on the throne, he cannot be a beloved emperor!”

Ignoring the speaker, the Fifth Prince strode straight to Ye Feng and bowed deeply, speaking with heartfelt sincerity.

***

The next morning, before Ye Feng could get up, Huan Qingwu burst into his bedroom, grabbed his ear, and dragged him from his dreams.

Ye Feng, still half-asleep, first felt pain—painful, yet somehow tender.

Peeking outside and seeing the sun had not yet risen, Ye Feng darted back under the covers like a turtle, refusing to get up no matter what.

“You scoundrel! Today you’re the star, the martial arena is packed to bursting, and you—lazy pig—are still asleep under your blanket! Get up now!”

“I’m asleep!”

“If you don’t get up, I’ll ignore you!”

“I’m asleep!”

“Be good! Get up and your sister will reward you with a kiss!”

This time, something stirred beneath the covers, but in the end, the answer was still, “I’m asleep…”

“Su Wu is at the martial arena too! Since no one’s keeping me company, I’ll go find him… Oh, I’m so pitiful… Knowing there are tigers, I walk straight into the tiger’s den…”

Whoosh…

A large hand shot out from under the blanket and dragged Huan Qingwu in.

Without hesitation, Ye Feng pressed his lips to her cute, alluring mouth. He was angry—his sleep had been interrupted, and she’d uttered such outrageous words.

“Mmm…” With her mouth sealed, Huan Qingwu could only flail and claw blindly. Suddenly, she went still. Ye Feng’s hand had slipped beneath her clothes.

At sixteen, Huan Qingwu was still in her adolescence, her body not fully matured, though she already had the curves she should, and, raised in luxury, developed even better than most girls.

Someone was nervous too—two lifetimes, over forty years in total, and still just a big boy!

His right hand gently kneaded, and damn it, his little brother was reacting. Ye Feng was on the verge of losing control, his breathing quickening, his left hand wandering downward along her belly.

Ah…

Suddenly, Ye Second Brother’s hands snapped back, holding his mouth with teary eyes. He was bleeding…

“You wastrel! I’ll never speak to you again…” Huan Qingwu’s pretty face was flushed, shyly pointing at Ye Feng, her voice trembling.

“You’re trying to murder your future husband!” Ye Feng looked at the blood mixed with saliva in his palm, speaking indistinctly.

“Pah! Who said I’d marry you! Get up now, or I really won’t speak to you… I’ll be naughty…” Huan Qingwu lowered her head, shyly straightening her disheveled clothes, her heart racing.

Whoosh…

That wicked hand snatched her back again, capturing her once more. This time Ye Feng didn’t act rashly, instead gazing at Huan Qingwu with deep affection.

“You’re so beautiful!” Holding her exquisite face in both hands, Ye Feng murmured in fascination.

“I am willing to protect you with my life! For all my days, I will never leave you…”

Their lips met again, but this time it was Huan Qingwu who pressed hers to his. She clung tightly to Ye Feng, her tongue slipping eagerly into his mouth.