Tome of Troubled Times

Chapter 672: A Single Arrow Shocks the World



Chapter 672: A Single Arrow Shocks the World

The following day, Cui Yuanyong and Xue Canghai each led their troops eastward, swiftly reaching the riverbank.

Xue Canghai’s suggestion of a night raid to seize a city from the day before now seemed laughable. It became evident why he was so often challenged by those of lower rank. He had lingered in the area so long, yet he failed to understand the lay of the land on the far side of the river.

The reason Puyang stood as a formidable barrier to the Wang Clan’s westward advance was the wide river separating the two territories. This river was none other than the Yellow River.

It was not some minor tributary but the main branch of the Yellow River. The river bent like a hook and curved northeast toward the Eastern Sea. Its course did not always divide regions into north and south; some regions were divided into east and west, as was the case with Puyang and Juancheng on the opposite shore.

In the days of the Great Xia Empire, both sides belonged to the same state, and no one thought to station heavy defenses along the riverbanks. When the first rebels rose in defiance, they crossed the river unopposed and swiftly laid siege to Puyang. Once the fighting abated, both sides fortified the river with water strongholds and defensive setups. Now, neither side could cross without a significant struggle.

The winter was harsh, but the winds were not, and since the river had not frozen over, it was quite navigable.

Standing on the riverbank, Zhao Changhe gazed across to the opposite shore. He could faintly make out a dense network of water strongholds and ships, their flags waving in the wind.

The movement on their side had not gone unnoticed. Across the river, the enemy’s boats were being repositioned, their activity resembling a swarm of ants in organized chaos.

Zhao Changhe glanced at Xue Canghai, the self-proclaimed expert of night raids. Xue Canghai’s face was flushed red with embarrassment as he turned to berate his subordinates. “Your armor’s all crooked! Fix it! You’re embarrassing me!”

The subordinates: “?”

As for the upcoming river crossing, neither Cui Yuanyong nor Xue Canghai had a clear strategy. They both turned to Zhao Changhe, their expressions heavy with expectation. They wondered how he planned to create an overwhelming spectacle.

Surely, he doesn’t intend to sacrifice lives recklessly to put on a show?

Zhao Changhe broke the silence, turning to Cui Yuanyong with a question: “Who is the enemy commander? It should be one of the Wang Clan’s more prominent generals, right?”

“It’s Cao Boping, ranked nineteenth on the Ranking of Man. He was previously a military officer in charge of the security of the imperial palace. He’s a seasoned veteran who knows his way around a battlefield.”

Zhao Changhe nodded thoughtfully. People could comment whatever they wanted about the former Xia court, but nobody could deny that it had produced many figures of note on the Ranking of Man. From Lu Shiheng of Xiangyang and Di Muzhi of Bashu to this Cao Boping, as well as Zhang Ximeng—whom Cui Yuanyong had recently replaced—these individuals often remained unknown in the jianghu but were prominent within the imperial structure.

In truth, the imperial court’s strength far surpassed that of most sects in the jianghu. With the experts from the Demon Suppression Bureau and the aristocratic families, the imperial ranks held a formidable pool of talent. However, scattered across various roles and cloaked in anonymity, they often seemed less intimidating than they truly were. They simply lacked fame and were scattered, making it seem like there were not many of them.

“Someone on the Ranking of Man should do.” Zhao Changhe said no more. Suddenly, he drew a deep breath and shouted loudly, “General Cao, are you there?”

His voice clearly carried across the Yellow River, reaching the ears of every soldier on the opposite shore. It was as if the words were spoken right next to each person’s ear.

Both sides were stunned. The depths of this Asura King’s strength were truly unfathomable. Rumors claimed he had defeated an ancient demon god at the Cui Clan, earning their allegiance. Many dismissed it as the Cui Clan trying to save face, but after this display, it seemed that it might have actually been true.

Cao Boping raised his hand, signaling his officers to calm their panic. He said evenly, “The claims of him defeating a demon god are not credible. Zhao Changhe is only second on the Ranking of Earth. At best, he could generously be placed at the bottom of the Ranking of Heaven, akin to Cui Wenjing in his early years. In a battle between two armies, amidst the chaos of thousands, one expert alone cannot decide the outcome—especially in a river crossing battle. He cannot fly. What are you all panicking for?”

The general’s composure somewhat reassured his officers. Truthfully, if this were a land battle, many would feel apprehensive. A powerhouse like Zhao Changhe could act as the spearhead and easily turn the tide. But the Yellow River was between them, and that alone brought a considerable measure of confidence.

Cao Boping walked to the front of the camp to respond. Lacking full confidence in his own voice, he moved closer, stepping onto the prow of a ship before shouting back, “What do you have to say to me, King Zhao?”

Even having moved closer, the howling river winds carried his words away, leaving them almost inaudible to the opposite shore. Only a handful of powerful individuals barely caught his message.

Zhao Changhe turned to Cui Yuanyong. “Is this the idiot we’re dealing with?”

Cui Yuanyong, delighted by the insult as if savoring fine wine, nodded. “Yes, that’s him. Wait—what are you doing?”

Everyone watched in astonishment as Zhao Changhe took out a gleaming golden bow and fitted a radiant golden arrow. He aimed it toward the opposite shore, leaving his men dumbfounded.

What is he thinking?

There’s such a massive distance between the two sides of the river. Even if King Zhao has the strength to shoot an arrow, what bow could withstand that strength? And at such range, with the target barely visible and the north wind howling, how could he possibly aim? Is this a joke?

On the opposite shore, Cao Boping also noticed Zhao Changhe drawing his bow and laughed incredulously. “If King Zhao wishes to vent his frustration, perhaps he should shoot at the bird between his legs. At least then, you might hit something.”

The soldiers around him erupted into laughter, their mirth echoing across the river and mortifying the Cui Clan troops, who covered their faces in embarrassment.

Cao Boping himself threw his head back in wild laughter, certain this mockery would boost morale.

Twang!

Then came the twang of a bowstring.

By the time they heard it, a stream of golden light had already pierced through Cao Boping’s open mouth. The arrow continued with unstoppable momentum, tearing through several soldiers behind him before crashing into the ship’s cabin with a deafening explosion.

A stunned silence fell over both banks. Only the howling of the north wind remained, sweeping across the river.

Thud!

Cao Boping toppled backward, his lifeless body hitting the deck. A burst of blood sprayed from his mouth like a fountain, sparkling in the frigid air.

Above, the sky shimmered briefly with a flash of golden light.

Eleventh month, Slight Cold[1]. Wan Dongliu deployed his forces from Xiapi, advancing north toward Langya. Cui Yuanyong marched from Puyang, facing off against Cao Boping on opposite banks of the Yellow River.

Zhao Changhe shot an arrow across the river and killed Cao Boping from several li away, leaving those on both banks in shock.

The figure ranked 19th on the Ranking of Man has fallen. The rankings shall adjust accordingly.

Everyone stared at the sky, mouths agape.

It was a spectacle of unparalleled magnitude, a story so loud and grand it was impossible to ignore. No one had ever considered using the Tome of Troubled Times for such a bold declaration. It made perfect sense, though... after all, the fallen opponent was a master on the Ranking of Man, and news of such deaths was always broadcasted. And conveniently, the broadcast included Wan Dongliu’s movements as part of the same campaign, tying all events together seamlessly.

The shockwave was unmistakable. The Cui Clan and the Cao Gang’s joint assault on Langya now gripped the entire world’s attention.

Yet, even if someone else could conceive such a strategy, who could actually achieve it?

Even the best archers around measured their effective distance in hundreds of paces. Zhao Changhe’s unit of measurement was the li!

Who could shoot an arrow across the entire Yellow River, striking someone several li away with a perfect throat shot? Was this even archery, or was it the power of gods and demons?

This was no ordinary feat, not even within the realm of the Ranking of Heaven. With such power to sway the battlefield, mortal-level combat seemed almost irrelevant.

Zhao Changhe glanced around at his stunned surroundings. “Why are you all just standing there? You don’t need me to command the river crossing, do you?”

“Damn it.” Cui Yuanyong leaped onto a boat, shouting, “The enemy’s morale is shattered! Their will is broken, and even their commander is gone! If we can’t cross this river, we might as well throw ourselves in it and die! Set sail!”

Zhao Changhe added nonchalantly, “Don’t forget to retrieve my arrow. Those are limited, we can’t be wasteful.”

Cui Yuanyong: “...”

The fleet surged forward, a dark mass of boats heading for the opposite shore.

On the other side, the stunned soldiers stood frozen for a moment before someone let out a panicked shout. Chaos erupted as they abandoned their ships and fled for their lives. The water strongholds fell into disarray in an instant.

Who would risk their lives for a few months’ worth of military pay? Against a god-like figure? No thanks! Unless Desolate Calamity himself emerged to confront Zhao Changhe, this battle was over before it began. But would such a figure stoop to participate in a mere river-crossing skirmish? The thought would probably not even cross his mind.

Not one figure on the Ranking of Heaven would take on such a task. And yet, Zhao Changhe—a man whose strength clearly placed him above mere mortals—seemed utterly unbothered by notions of dignity or self-regard.

But at this moment, no one thought Zhao Changhe lacked dignity. That arrow had been too terrifying, piercing not just a throat but the very morale of an entire army. Even those reading the battle reports many li away were gripped by fear.

It was truly a single arrow that shook the world.

South of Langya, Wan Dongliu looked up at the golden characters in the sky fading into the cold air. A grin spread across his face as he raised his whip, pointing at the small city ahead. “The defending army’s morale must be in shambles. A thousand gold taels go to the first to scale the walls!”

In Guanlong, someone received a secret message delivered by a snow eagle. As they hesitated, the Tome of Troubled Times’ broadcast lit up the sky, dazzling all who saw it.

“So it’s true... In any case, the Cui Clan and the Cao Gang’s pincer attack on the Wang Clan should not yield a swift victory. And since they won’t be able to win fast enough, it would only make sense for reinforcements to be dispatched from the capital. In that case, the capital should now stand defenseless. To let such an opportunity slip away would be a sin!”

1. Slight Cold is the 23rd solar term. ☜

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