Chapter 678: Grandmaster Xiao is Dead
Fan Shangzheng wasn't sleeping deeply; in fact, he hadn't truly fallen asleep at all.
As one aged, sleep inevitably worsened.
After tossing and turning for a while, completely devoid of drowsiness, he slipped out of his brightly colored tent and ambled alone through Wenshui County town in the dead of night.
The town was shrouded in darkness, with only a few braziers burning on the city walls, casting a meager, struggling light.
Fan Shangzheng glanced left and right, noticing only a handful of guards on the walls; most of the soldiers were inexplicably asleep. Wenshui County appeared as undefended as a peacetime town.
This discovery startled him immensely. He rushed to Li Daoxuan's tent and pulled aside the flap. Inside, he saw Li Daoxuan sitting cross-legged on the ground in a corner, silent and motionless, seemingly cultivating his internal energy.
Fan Shangzheng quickly gripped Li Daoxuan's shoulders, shaking him violently. "Grandmaster Xiao, Master Xiao! We were just talking this afternoon about the bandits launching a night raid tonight! How can you have made no arrangements? Nearly all the soldiers are asleep!"
He shook him for a long time, but Grandmaster Xiao showed absolutely no response.
Fan Shangzheng gasped in alarm, reaching out to check Grandmaster Xiao's breath...
No breath!
Grandmaster Xiao had stopped breathing!
"Ahhh!" Fan Shangzheng screamed in anguish. "It's over! Grandmaster Xiao has passed away at such a crucial moment! Why? Why did this happen? Did he mismanage his qi cultivation? How could this be? You can't just leave now; the bandits are still outside! What will become of Wenshui County?"
He stumbled out of the tent, utterly distraught, and ran to Chen Yuanbo's tent, barging in. He violently shook the sleeping Chen Yuanbo. "It's over! Master Xiao is dead! Grandmaster Xiao is dead!"
Chen Yuanbo was shaken almost to pieces. He sat up, his face a mask of confusion. "Governor, what in the world is going on?"
Fan Shangzheng repeated, "Grandmaster Xiao is dead! He's not breathing, not breathing! His hands and feet are ice cold!"
Chen Yuanbo stifled a laugh inwardly. *That's just one of the Heavenly Lord's statues. When the Heavenly Lord isn't inhabiting it, how could it breathe? Its hands and feet being ice cold is perfectly natural!*
However, he couldn't quite say that aloud.
He simply said with a calm demeanor, "Rest assured, Governor, Grandmaster Xiao is merely practicing his martial arts."
Fan Shangzheng exclaimed, "What? Practicing martial arts?"
Chen Yuanbo explained, "That particular art is called the Ice Soul Condensation Art. When practicing it, the entire body feels as if it's plunged into an ice cave, so naturally, the hands and feet become cold. Also, the breathing becomes incredibly slow, with only one breath taken every hour or two."
Fan Shangzheng narrowed his eyes. "Are you not trying to deceive me, this official?"
"This humble official wouldn't dare," Chen Yuanbo replied.
"No matter how I look at it," Fan Shangzheng insisted, "I still feel that Grandmaster Xiao is dead."
Chen Yuanbo reassured him, "Don't worry, don't worry. Grandmaster Xiao will awaken after completing a full cycle of his cultivation."
Fan Shangzheng's heart remained deeply unsettled. "Alright, let's put Grandmaster Xiao's matter aside for now. What's going on with your defenses? You clearly anticipated a possible night raid by the bandits, so why are your defenses so lax?"
Chen Yuanbo responded, "Because the bandits will only launch their night raid in the latter half of the night, not the first half. Grandmaster Xiao instructed us to rest well and get a good night's sleep during the first half so we'd be refreshed and ready to deal with those dog-faced scoundrels later."
Fan Shangzheng was astonished. "You mean you even know when the bandits will attack the city?"
"Of course!" Chen Yuanbo declared. "Grandmaster Xiao scouted the bandit camp earlier tonight and overheard the bandit leader's entire strategy."
Fan Shangzheng gasped sharply.
A thread of icy air, sharp as silk, seemed to be drawn into his lungs.
This was the first time Fan Shangzheng had ever heard of such a thing! For the supreme commander of one army, in the midst of battle, to secretly infiltrate the enemy camp and eavesdrop on their plans—this was absolutely preposterous! What kind of folktale plot was this, plucked from some fantastical play?
To expect him to believe it immediately was impossible.
Fan Shangzheng was utterly bewildered.
Just then, Li Daoxuan's voice suddenly rang out from behind him. "Oh? What are you two doing, up and about in the middle of the night instead of sleeping?"
Fan Shangzheng whirled around, seeing Li Daoxuan waving at him.
Fan Shangzheng stammered, "Eh? Eh, eh, eh? He's really alive?"
Li Daoxuan looked confused. "Hm?"
Chen Yuanbo quickly winked at Li Daoxuan and said, "Grandmaster Xiao, while you were practicing that Ice Soul Condensation Art just now, the Governor thought you had passed away."
"Oh, oh, oh, so that's what it was," Li Daoxuan chuckled. "Haha, thank you for your concern. That technique I practice is quite unorthodox; it does make me look like a dead man when I'm cultivating."
Fan Shangzheng stepped forward, taking Li Daoxuan's hand. He touched it. "It's still so cold!"
Li Daoxuan waved it off. "You get used to it. My hands are always cold in winter."
Fan Shangzheng was speechless.
Li Daoxuan advised, "Governor, you should really go get some rest. There's going to be quite a show later tonight, and you wouldn't want to be nodding off when the excitement begins, would you?"
"Alas," Fan Shangzheng sighed, "how could this official possibly sleep?"
"Alright, it's fine if you can't sleep, but please don't make any noise and let the soldiers get some more rest," Li Daoxuan said. "I need to continue my practice as well. Governor, please don't say I'm dead again."
With that, he walked straight back into the tent, once again sat cross-legged, and instantly became breathless.
Fan Shangzheng felt an eerie chill. This grandmaster was a good man, but a bit too strange. *Ah, well, I suppose this old man should try to get some sleep after all.*
Fan Shangzheng returned to his tent, but still tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He didn't know how much time had passed when voices suddenly erupted outside.
He quickly scrambled out of his tent and saw Grandmaster Xiao, Chen Yuanbo, and five hundred flintlock rifle soldiers preparing for action.
The flintlock rifle soldiers swiftly dressed and poured out of their tents. In a mere few dozen breaths, they not only donned their clothes and grabbed their weapons but even managed to fold their blankets into perfect, crisp rectangles, with every edge meticulously straightened.
Fan Shangzheng watched, utterly bewildered. *Why on earth would they fold their blankets like that?*
Grandmaster Xiao stood before the assembled flintlock rifle soldiers, a smile on his face. "In half an hour, the bandits will begin their night raid. Everyone, take your positions."
The soldiers saluted in unison, then turned to run towards the North Gate.
Li Daoxuan interjected, "No, not the North Gate. The bandits will come from the East Gate."
Fan Shangzheng gasped, "Eh? You even know which direction the bandits will attack from?"
Li Daoxuan smiled. "I scouted the bandit camp earlier tonight and overheard their entire plan with crystal clarity."
Fan Shangzheng was left speechless.
The five hundred flintlock rifle soldiers immediately turned towards the East Gate.
They had no intention of defending from the city walls; instead, they ran directly outside the city.
Engineers were digging and digging in the open ground outside the East Gate, doing something incomprehensible.
The rest, organized into several small teams by their captains, crept into the nearby woods. It was pitch black anyway, and no one could see far, so they didn't even need to find elaborate hiding spots; a simple ditch or hollow in the ground was enough.
Fan Shangzheng, unable to make sense of any of it, could only stand by and watch.
Once all preparations were complete, everyone was hidden.
The East Gate once again fell silent, with only two sentries patrolling the city walls under the dim glow of the braziers.
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