Chương 145: Book 2 Chapter 58: Link

Mo Jian marveled at his new state. He could not clearly remember how he had arrived at it – a fading certainty still lingered in his soul, but it was a distant, insignificant concern, swept away by the sheer exultation coursing through his qi. He had reached the mid-stage of the Nascent Soul realm. There was a physical side to it too, one he had not expected.

A warmth bloomed just beneath his sternum and spread outward until it reached his fingertips, his scalp, the soles of his feet; until his skin itself felt tight around him, as though his body had grown a size too large for what he actually was – or his soul had grown too large for his body. It was not unpleasant, though; it was, if anything, the opposite: a fullness so complete it bordered on pleasant.

In the hazy fragments of the moments before, it had felt almost like taking a step: placing one foot before the other and, with no effort at all, arriving at the destination he had sought. He clenched his fist and looked deeper than flesh and blood, into his soul and his meridians, as his qi flowed through them like light itself. Though even "flowed" was not the right word.

It did not move; it simply existed, ever-present, as though there were no distinction between the qi within his dantian and the qi within his meridians. It was all one entity: his nascent soul. His nascent soul, too, had changed. A green figure swept out from his body, connected only by the thinnest tendril of qi, and the entire carriage trembled. Mo Jian immediately controlled his qi, focusing on suppressing the manifestation, and the shaking gradually eased, though it did not disappear completely. Ah.

It was not merely the carriage that had shaken. The entire convoy had trembled. Putting the matter aside, Mo Jian examined his soul. Just as General Tang Huwei had promised, it had grown. It now resembled a grinning child, formed entirely from green light. Its features were strange, caught somewhere between his own appearance and that of the original Mo Jian. His nascent soul had taken the shape of this body when it first formed. This change in its appearance…

was it merely a consequence of body reformation, or did it signify something deeper? He stared at himself – at his own soul – and found the question strangely meaningless. The person he had been moments ago would never have entertained such a thought. He had been too certain of himself, too convinced of his own understanding, to question such things. But that state of mind was fading, and now he had questions. And yet, this was not one worth pursuing. With a thought, his nascent soul returned to his body.

Mo Jian opened his eyes, then rose to his feet. His spiritual sense swept through the entire carriage, recalling the formations he had placed down, and then extended beyond, rushing through the convoy like an invisible tide. The weaker cultivators shied away from it, while three – all at the mid-stage of the Nascent Soul realm too – met it like a greeting, allowing their own to collide with his in response.

These were likely General Qing's lieutenants, each of them a Hundred Thousand Man Commander at the very least. He also saw Bai Ning and General Qing at the top of the first carriage. The former did not notice him at all. Her attention was completely absorbed by an arc of shimmering qi she was attempting to… trace with her sword, perhaps? Mo Jian had no idea what the purpose of the exercise was, but he lingered on her expression.

It was a familiar one: full of focus and determination, the same expression she had worn back at the Islands, when he assigned her difficult tasks or gave her teachings to master. It was a better expression than he had seen on her face in a long while, especially compared to the changes brought about by the capital and the court. There was something deeper hidden within that thought, something he wanted to examine further, but for now, it eluded him.

Instead, he turned his attention toward General Qing, only to find he was too late. She was already gone. Where had she– Ah. Considering the circumstances, Mo Jian merely shrugged and took a step. He arrived before the door leading into the first carriage, hovering just outside it, surrounded by a sphere of qi. It might have seemed as though he had skipped a step somewhere in between, but he really had not. It was that simple.

He had thought about moving, and his qi had moved at the speed of thought, instantaneous and complete, all before a single breath had passed. Mo Jian opened the door and stepped inside.

"Well done," came Qing Zhanyue's praise even before he had fully closed the door behind him. Beside her, Muxue was already rising to her feet. She offered him a quick, private smile.

"Indeed, congratulations on your successful breakthrough, Jian." Mo Jian smiled back, but before he could respond, Liu Rushi, who had evidently been conversing with Muxue, dramatically shook her head.

"I feel that at this point, if we do not make progress as well, you will only leave us further and further behind, Brother Mo. Many congratulations on your success!" Mo Jian raised a hand.

"Thank you, everyone. But it is all thanks to General Qing…" Who had disappeared in the one second he had taken his eyes off her, making Mo Jian grimace.

"... So let us not make too big a deal out of it." His gaze swept across the carriage, and thankfully, no one seemed inclined to turn the occasion into an impromptu celebration. Duan Cheng, still standing by the window, offered him a slight nod, as quiet and deferential as always. Wei Shentong, meanwhile, had his eyes closed, though his qi was not circulating.

His teeth were also grinding together, as if he had just watched all his hopes and dreams wither into ash, watched that ash crumble into dust, and then watched even that dust disappear into the endless ravages of time. Mo Jian concluded that he was perfectly aware of everything happening around him and had simply chosen to live in denial. He wished him the best of luck with that endeavor. Muxue waved him over to his old seat beside her, and seeing that Liu Rushi had no objection either, he walked over and sat down.

"Where is everyone else?" he asked.

"The General felt that they too should partake in training, especially since Bai Ning is undergoing one," Liu Rushi replied dryly, though there was an undercurrent of amusement in her voice.

"I was a little alarmed at first, but Shuangyi's hidden messages asking me to rescue her from 'the madman' assigned to help her suggest that she is likely having a beneficial experience. As her teacher, I am a little jealous." There was no trace of jealousy on her face whatsoever. Mo Jian took a moment to pray for Bai Ning's friends. Hopefully, the Peacock Army commanders would prove more sensible than their general. Seeing his somewhat helpless expression, Muxue gave him a look before changing the subject.

"Liu Rushi and I were discussing our plans. She was also helping me decipher Guxin's cryptic message. She has been an incredible source of information regarding the Imperial family, enough that even I am surprised."

"It is merely a passing interest," Liu Rushi commented casually.

"Nothing more. When I was a girl, I studied your family with great interest, Princess. The dashing Prince Chongxun, the gentle Princess Wanquan, even the dubious Yonghe. Princess Guxin was merely one of the names I encountered, though the records concerning her stop quite abruptly, replaced instead by those of Prince Mingyuan." Muxue stifled a grimace.

"That… there is little point in discussing it now. However, her message to beware the Wheel of the Cat must mean something. I have searched through what few records I possess, and the name has not appeared even once. The closest comparison is the Wheel of Endless Turnings, one of the great treasures of the Imperial family, though I do not know who possesses it now. My Truth Tolling Bell is a companion treasure to it." Mo Jian frowned, unwilling to comment.

In this matter, he found himself agreeing with the absent Tang Huwei. Whatever Guxin had intended to share, he doubted it would prove particularly useful. However, Muxue was convinced that her cousin had risked much to pass this information to her, which meant it had to hold some significance, something that could help them thwart Chengxuan. Rather than voice any of that, however, he simply shrugged and said, almost philosophically, "None of that matters where we are going.

Right now, we should be thinking about the Yuan and the Steppes, not your cousin. Victory here already requires great effort. Why complicate matters further?" Unfortunately, his philosophy was not received well, and Mo Jian could only blame the cruel and unfeeling nature of the world. Muxue's lips pressed thin, and for a moment Mo Jian thought she might argue the point outright.

She did not, but the matter did not feel settled either, as she tucked whatever she had been about to say back behind her eyes, filed away rather than abandoned.

"Heading to the center of the Steppes does not require that much thought," she said instead, waving him off with a frown. This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. The carriage trembled faintly beneath them as she spoke, the wind outside shifting as the convoy climbed toward some greater altitude.

No one else in the carriage seemed to notice the change, but Mo Jian could now feel the world around him with a clarity he had not possessed before his breakthrough; the pressure of the air, the distant pull of the wind currents, all of it laid out for him like a map. He opened his mouth to answer, but-"The center of the Steppes?" Duan Cheng straightened from where he had been leaning, his eyes boring directly into the princess with an intensity that seemed unlike him.

"Forgive me for my presumption, Your Celestial Highness, but I thought you meant that we would head into the Northern Steppes earlier… not that we would be going directly to their heart?" There was something very much like alarm in his voice, the sort reserved, composed men displayed when something truly unsettled them; the kind lesser men would simply call wariness. Muxue looked surprised by the interruption, and Mo Jian understood why. Duan Cheng had remained polite and deferential throughout their journey.

He had never once placed himself in opposition to his superiors, no matter how much that tendency irritated Mo Jian. But now he was looking at them as if they were children discussing the fantastical, and it wasn't so much the argument itself that troubled Mo Jian; it was the fact that Duan Cheng was arguing about this point at all. That he felt the need to speak up said more about the danger of what they were attempting than anything in the Ministry's reports could. Mo Jian answered on Muxue's behalf.

"We are heading to the heart of the plains, yes. As I said, we have a plan. Do not worry, Duan Cheng, I promised you before that this is not some elaborate method of committing suicide. We have considered this carefully." Duan Cheng did not look convinced. However, he also seemed to realize he would get nowhere with a direct approach. Changing tactics, he continued, "Pardon me, senior, but are you aware of what the center of the plains is like? Venturing there is not a matter of cultivation or numbers.

Even the Yuan would oppose us far more fiercely than they already would a group of Imperials within their lands if they knew our destination."

"I have read the same reports from the Ministry of Rites that were distributed to everyone here," Mo Jian replied dryly.

"And you have seen some of my own abilities. At the very least, do you truly believe it would be impossible for us to escape if we discover we were mistaken?" Duan Cheng bit his lip, clearly restraining whatever response immediately came to mind, and considered his words carefully before speaking.

"It is not impossible for us to escape. But that is the only thing I fear we will accomplish: fleeing. I have some experience with the Wall, senior, so I say this not from reports but from firsthand experience. Most every man underestimates the Yuan at first, only to be gutted by them later. The wise or the lucky survive, and they pass their lessons on to those smart enough to listen." He paused, then turned toward Muxue.

"Even a Nascent Soul elder can be overwhelmed, and minor hordes, even without Khans, have brought down peak Nascent Soul existences before. I hate to sound indelicate, but even the former Crown Prince was overwhelmed by a linked horde and trampled." He was referring to the Yuan's most famous ability: their capacity to weave their qi together and act as a single entity, becoming something greater than the sum of their parts.

It was something any cultivator, regardless of realm, could theoretically accomplish, at least among peers. Even Mo Jian had done something similar back in the Thousand Shattered Islands, when he and three other Core Formation cultivators had woven their qi together into a formation while fighting the Gu. The difference was that such techniques had limits, whereas the Yuan's ability to link with each other did not. Joining one's qi with another cultivator, or even two or three, was relatively simple.

But the more people involved, the more difficult it became. At eight or nine connected cultivators, the process became exceedingly challenging, as the braided qi began to lose stability and threatened to spiral out of control. There were methods to overcome those limitations: cultivators could share similar attributes, practice the same techniques, or rely on powerful treasures and formations to bridge the gaps between their qi. But even those methods had their boundaries.

The largest formation Mo Jian had heard of had involved nearly two hundred Foundation Establishment cultivators using a rigid technique to oppose an opponent an entire realm above them. Yet that formation had been immobile, required extensive preparation, and demanded deep similarities between the participating cultivators.

"Two hundred cultivators from the Empire, bound by treasures and years of shared training, can barely manage that against one enemy a realm above," Duan Cheng said, as though he had read the shape of Mo Jian's thoughts on his face.

"The Yuan do the same with strangers, by the hundreds, and think nothing of it. It is not a technique to them, senior. It is simply how they fight." Considering that, Duan Cheng's concerns were not unfounded. Simple cultivation alone was not enough to overcome the disadvantage of entering the Yuan's heartland. If they were discovered – if even one enemy managed to call for reinforcements – they would find themselves in serious trouble. Mo Jian had addressed this concern before, though not this exact point.

He had spoken about the broader dangers of the mission and their plans to mitigate them. Yet for Duan Cheng to bring it up again… the idea of venturing into the center of the Steppes had clearly shaken him.

"I am aware," Muxue said. Her voice was quiet and subdued, yet beneath it lay a core of unyielding strength.

"I know exactly what went wrong with my father's plans, inside and out. And I am not claiming that what I have built upon them is perfect either. But…" Her voice strengthened.

"…we will gain nothing if we never dare to step into the lion's mouth. The Horde Without End is the lynchpin of everything. If a Khan gains their allegiance, then they will be seen as the second coming of Jenghiz. Everyone will fall in line after that." Duan Cheng looked taken aback. He must have already guessed that was their destination, because what else could they possibly seek in the heartlands of the Steppes? Yet the realization still crossed his face like a sudden blow before fading away.

"Then I will not attempt to dissuade you further, Your Celestial Highness," he said.

"But remember this: a hundred million cultivators have believed they could recreate that world-shaking army, and a hundred million have failed. That includes every one of the Great Khan's descendants. It has never been done before, save for one time in all of history." In the silence that followed, Mo Jian was tempted to point out that Duan Cheng was still trying to dissuade them despite claiming otherwise. But before he could voice the irony, Muxue spoke first, a faint fighting smile appearing on her face.

"Then that is how we know it is worth doing. If we succeed, we make history. And if we fail, we are swept away by it."

"Well phrased." The third voice came from the side, and everyone present jumped, from the princess to Duan Cheng, from Mo Jian to Liu Rushi, the latter of whom had been listening with undisguised fascination. Qing Zhanyue had once again appeared in the middle of the carriage without warning.

"You have a way with words, little Muxue," she said, "though I am not certain that was truly an answer, or merely bravado. Regardless, I suggest you finalize whatever plans you have now, whatever they may be. We are only a few hours away from arriving." She gestured toward the window.

"See." Mo Jian was tempted to complain about her habit of appearing without warning, but his attention – like everyone else's – was stolen by the sight outside. The farther north they traveled, the more untamed the land had become. Yet now, signs of civilization were beginning to emerge: towns, villages, and other settlements for which Mo Jian had no name. More importantly, directly ahead of them, far to the north where they were flying, the world seemed to come to an end. Or rather, the horizon did.

A smooth wall of black rose from the earth into the clouds, stretching endlessly east and west. It was so vast that, at a glance, it seemed less like a structure and more like a natural boundary of the world itself. Even hours away by flying, it was impossible in scale. The black stone that formed its foundation rose in immense tiers from the plains, each layer fitted together with such precision that even from afar there was no visible seam between the countless stones.

Mo Jian began to notice movement along its surface. At first, he mistook it for insects crawling across the stone. Then he realized they were people, just so distant that even his enhanced sight could only make out the vaguest details. Some patrolled the battlements in ordered formations, while more passed through enormous gates built into the wall, their wagons and beasts moving beneath arches large enough to admit entire armies, still appearing no larger than grains of rice from this distance.

The sight was strangely peaceful. Mo Jian had expected a fortress; instead he saw a city stretched across the horizon. The Ministry reports had described the Wall as a military structure, but they had also emphasized another truth: the Wall existed not only to prevent passage, but to control it. The gates were not barriers meant to remain forever closed. They were carefully guarded mouths through which the Empire interacted with the world beyond.

Goods, information, and people flowed through them as licensed Yuan traders, permitted under carefully established agreements, carrying northern furs and rare minerals entered beneath Imperial inspection, while caravans bearing silk, grain, tools, and crafted goods traveled outward into the Steppes. The Great Wall was not a rejection of the north. Rather, it was the Empire's hand extended outward, with a blade held behind its back.

Only when that hand was struck away did the Wall become what legends claimed it to be. The gates would close, the merchants would vanish, and the officials who recorded tariffs and inspected cargo would yield their stations to military commanders. The roads that carried commerce would become paths for armies, and the same stones that welcomed travelers would become the foundation from which soldiers defended the Empire. Mo Jian looked deeper.

The highest battlements disappeared into the clouds above, while the lowest foundations sank deep into the earth below. Towers rose at regular intervals, each one large enough to resemble a fortress in its own right. Between them stretched countless lengths of black stone, disappearing into the distance until the eastern and western ends could no longer be seen.

And beyond it- The Steppes, a land that had challenged the Empire for centuries, a land of endless grasslands, ancient tribes, and warriors who could merge their strength into armies unlike anything the world had ever known. The Great Wall stood between those two worlds, but it did not truly separate them. Instead, it connected them, and that was perhaps the most remarkable thing about it. For all its size, for all its weapons and soldiers and formations, the Wall was not built from fear alone.

It was built from the understanding that the north could never simply be ignored. The Empire and the Steppes were bound together by geography, by history, by trade, and by necessity. The Wall was the line where those two realities met. And now Mo Jian was about to cross it.