Tome of Troubled Times-Chapter 727 (1): The Protagonists

Not all winds are the same. There are those that carry the soft touch of gentle rain, while there are others that unleash the most violent of tempests.

Even so, Hidden Wind and Ye Wuzong shared a striking similarity in their philosophies. They both embodied the subtlety of wind moving silently in the night. Zhao Changhe had once suspected Ye Wuzong of having inherited Hidden Wind’s legacy, but Ye Wuzong’s words made it clear that that was not the case. If anything, his tone carried a competitive edge—a challenge across eras, as if to say, “You only carved your path first because I came later. On equal footing, I would surpass you.”

It was the ambition of the present challenging the past, but Ye Wuzong, burdened by age and a waning spirit, had no strength left to prove his point. Hence, he placed his hopes on his disciples.

It was no surprise, then, that Zhao Changhe became the quickest to master the art of controlling the wind. Even Sisi, a supposed direct disciple of the Thief Saint, could not match his learning speed.

The combination of Zhao Changhe’s innate talent and the profound understanding gained from dual cultivation with Xia Chichi, who had inherited the Azure Dragon’s legacy, left Ye Wuzong in awe.

As Zhao Changhe’s blurred afterimage vanished with a faint whistle of wind, even Ye Wuzong, whose sharp eyes had witnessed countless prodigies, could barely track him. The old man’s already weary face grew even more contemplative, and he fell silent until the end of the lesson, saying nothing further.

“Master, rest assured,” Zhao Changhe said as the lesson concluded. “If I encounter Hidden Wind again, I will use the skills you’ve passed on to me to show him the prowess of this era.”

Ye Wuzong’s somber expression broke into a faint smile. These matters were the unspoken understandings of men, but even so, his heart lingered with thoughts of Sisi, his cherished student still striving to heal him.

He smiled faintly and said, “If it’s possible, let Sisi take on that task. After all, she’s my true successor, not you.”

“Of course,” Zhao Changhe replied, offering Ye Wuzong a medicinal pill before using the Rejuvenation Art to ease his injuries. The old man neither resisted nor actively cooperated, merely waiting quietly until Zhao Changhe was finished. Only then did he speak again.

“Go on. Lifespan isn’t something that can easily be meddled with. No matter how strong that technique of yours is, lifespan simply isn’t something it can extend.”

Zhao Changhe bowed deeply. “Rest well, Master.”

He and Yue Hongling withdrew, leaving Sisi behind to stay with her master a while longer.

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Ye Wuzong stood at the doorway, watching the couple’s retreating figures. After a long pause, he said, “When he first came to Kunlun, I thought he was just a loyal and clever young man—not much else. His combat style was too brutish, not to my taste. But now... it’s clear the greatest storm of this era revolves around him. In truth, I am no longer his match. You’ve got a great eye, Sisi.”

Sisi hesitated to confess that her relationship with Zhao Changhe had started with him teasing her mercilessly, often punctuated by Dragon Bird slapping her in the face. Instead, she mumbled vaguely, “Of course, I have a great eye. I even picked the strongest master for myself.”

Her words carried a subtle attempt to ignite her master’s pride and fighting spirit. But Ye Wuzong, who had experienced far more in life than Sisi could imagine, saw through her little ploy and chuckled.

Ye Wuzong asked, “Sisi, do you know the greatest weakness of our lineage?”

Sisi shook her head. “I’ve always thought it was already amazing. Is it... a lack of grandeur?”

“No. It’s a lack of courage,” Ye Wuzong said calmly. “Our lineage lacks the courage to face enemies head-on or to challenge ourselves. If you can overcome that, your achievements will surpass mine by far. As for Zhao Changhe, I don’t worry about him in this regard—it’s as if he was born to challenge the impossible.”

Sisi understood. She also realized that her master had no intention of pushing further, not because he could not do so, but because his disposition and his martial path had long been set. She let out a quiet sigh and murmured, “I understand.”

Ye Wuzong waved her off. “Go. You still have a mountain of things to deal with when it comes to the Spirit Tribe. Don’t waste your time fussing over an old man like me.”

Indeed, Sisi had many responsibilities awaiting her. She left promptly, heading to the sacred temple, which was also the royal palace. Glancing around, she noted that Zhao Changhe had not come this way, leaving her slightly disappointed. But she knew now was not the time.

Surrounded by rows of heavily armed guards, she ascended the dais of the throne and turned to take her seat.

Below her, tribal chiefs knelt, none daring to even breathe too loudly.

Sisi had not even bothered to don the usual ceremonial robes, her long hair left to fall freely over her shoulders in an almost casual manner. On any other day, the more conservative elders would have grumbled endlessly about her lack of decorum. But today, no one dared lift their heads to criticize her.

The events of the previous day had left them utterly cowed. The terror of seeing “ancestors” claw their way out of the earth, the sacred envoy’s thunderous display of divine power with the axe—it was too overwhelming. Even Sisi’s staunchest supporters felt uneasy, let alone the neutral tribes who had always wavered in their loyalty.

“Are you all aware of what happened yesterday?” Sisi asked coolly, letting the silence linger long enough to make them sweat before she finally spoke.

One of the braver leaders stammered, “Y-yes... There were enemies who dared to disturb our ancestors’ rest. And worse, we even had traitors who conspired with them.”

Sisi’s thoughts raced. Many of the rebels probably did not even know about Underworld Guide’s existence, but framing the incident this way would make her stance clearer and her actions more decisive. “Correct. Beyond those of our own tribe, there were traitors who were former Han generals under our banner. They have been captured and need no trial. They are all to be burned alive today.”

Her beautiful lips delivered such chilling words with ease, causing cold sweat to run down the backs of everyone present.

In just over six months of her rule, this alluring saintess had presided over three bloody purges.

The first had been her initial ascent to power, which was brutal enough. The second occurred when some dared to exploit her bouts of pain-induced unconsciousness, thinking she was vulnerable, only to be crushed in a calculated display of force. And now, this third purge, originally another deliberate baiting tactic, had spiraled into something far greater due to the intrusion of outsiders and the desecration of ancestral bodies.

The second purge had a clear undercurrent of malicious entrapment—a calculated move to dismantle the old guard and consolidate power. The third, while intended as a continuation of this strategy, had inadvertently exposed an external threat. Yet now, outsiders assumed that everything had unfolded exactly as Sisi planned, as though she had orchestrated it all from the start.

Between these three incidents, tens of thousands had perished. Virtually all remnants of the old power structures had been eradicated, including lingering factions of Han influence. With her power solidified and the terrifying backing of the male and female sacred envoys, Sisi now held near-absolute authority.

“Through these events, I’ve come to realize something...” Sisi said, leaning slightly to one side and propping her head on her hand, her tone casual yet commanding. “I once sought to model our government after the system of the Central Plains, but the vast differences in customs left it half-formed and ineffective. From today onward, there will be a complete reform. There will no longer be a Spirit Tribe Saintess, nor tribal chiefs. Instead, there will only be the King of Dali, a vassal of the Great Han. All systems will align with Han practices: the establishment of three departments, six ministries[1], and a structured military. There will no longer be divisions between the Spirit Tribe and the Han.”

Someone stammered, “Da... Dali?”

Sisi smiled sweetly, but her eyes were devoid of warmth. “Dali is already ours. Did you not know this?”

Gasps of shock rippled through the room. Most of the gathered chiefs truly had not known. With the internal rebellion reaching such a fever pitch, who would have imagined that, outside, they had simultaneously overrun the White and Yao tribes, taking control of Dali? How had such a feat been accomplished?

Sisi declared, “From this day forward, the Spirit Tribe will fully integrate into Miaojiang. The thousands of li that span the southwest shall become this ruler’s domain!”

It was the first time Sisi had referred to herself as a ruler, and even she felt a flicker of awkwardness as the words left her lips. Yet none of the listeners dared to share that sentiment.

To survive these troubled times, consolidating the strongest and most decisive leadership was essential for survival. A centralized state, under the current circumstances, was far more effective than the old tribal system. It was an inevitable evolution. Otherwise, why had the saintess carried out such blood-soaked purges? Clearly, it had all been leading to this moment.

None of them realized that, deep down, Sisi’s true aim was much simpler: to gradually move the Spirit Tribe out of the secret realm, ensuring they would not be caught unprepared if their true ancestor ever reawakened.

At the same time, this was her way of becoming the sharpest weapon in Zhao Changhe’s arsenal, helping him shoulder the immense burdens he carried.

Sisi opened a list of names and began assigning official positions. Yet as she worked, her thoughts began to wander. She wondered what Zhao Changhe was doing now. Had his training in controlling the wind from their master helped him progress toward breaking into the Profound Control Realm?

* * *

“Snow Owl’s shadow techniques aren’t truly wind-based. His afterimage technique is an optical illusion created by moving at extreme speeds,” Zhao Changhe muttered to himself, back at the burial ground. The energy here was dense and perfect for deep reflection. “The core of his technique can’t be replicated, particularly his ability to create multiple attacking clones. But if I incorporate wind control, we can develop an entirely new variation of this technique...”

Yue Hongling stood nearby, watching in amazement as Zhao Changhe seemed to vanish entirely. His movements were so fast they defied vision, reminiscent of their master, the Thief Saint, in his prime.

It was not invisibility. He had simply reached a speed so great that even her trained eyes could not accurately detect his movements.

Clang!

Yue Hongling’s sword flashed from its scabbard, pointing sharply behind her.

Zhao Changhe, who had been sneaking up to tug on her belt, froze mid-action. Her precise reaction forced him to leap backward like a startled toad, avoiding the blade. “You caught my movement?!”

Yue Hongling’s expression remained stoic. “We learned it together. Just because you learn faster doesn’t mean I haven’t mastered it.”

As she spoke, Yue Hongling blurred into motion, her figure splitting into a stream of afterimages. Clad in her red robe, she painted a sky full of crimson clouds.

On closer inspection, each of Yue Hongling’s afterimages was pulling a different mocking face, exuding an air of playful provocation.

But the greatest deception of her technique was the natural assumption that her real body must be leading the charge. Zhao Changhe’s instincts screamed otherwise. He reached backward, accurately grabbing Yue Hongling’s hand as she stealthily tried to grab his belt.

With a quick motion, he spun her into his arms, holding her firmly.

Both of them had tried to untie each other’s belts, both had failed, and their sparring session had seamlessly turned into an exchange of amused glances and playful banter.

1. The three departments and six ministries system was the primary administrative structure in imperial China from the Sui dynasty (581–618) to the Yuan dynasty (1271–1368). ☜