The Bad Guys: Everyone, let’s revive the Tang Dynasty together!

Chapter 451 Heaven Blesses the Northern Desert
As the glow faded, all that remained was a desolate wasteland. The once-standing altar was now split in two, and beneath the wooden frame, in the frozen earth, lay a gaping, gaping pit, its walls and bottom a deep, inky black, scorched by the violent energy.

The shockwave's aftershocks leveled an area of ​​several dozen feet in radius, reducing yurts, fences, and the remains of the charging Chute guards and tree women to dust, which then dissipated into the wind, snow, and smoke. At the edge of the crater, the earth, like shattered glass, radiated a dense, shocking web of cracks. A few wisps of lingering smoke twisted and rose, quickly torn apart by the cold wind.

At the bottom of the pit, a body lay twisted and supine.

Bali Shensu.

The man's large hooded cloak had long since turned to dust, revealing the charred, tattered robes beneath, clinging tightly to the equally bloody and mangled flesh. Deep, bone-revealing wounds crisscrossed the area, the rolled-up edges congealed with dark red scabs, and in some places even exposed the stark white bone.

His once fanatical and twisted face was now frozen in a hollow blankness, his eyes wide open, yet unable to reflect the gray sky. The iris patterns on his face and arms, once shimmering with a vibrant blue, now completely faded, like withered vines from a hundred years ago, lifelessly branded onto his charred skin. There was no undulation, no warmth, only utter stillness. Under the annihilation of absolute power, this body had been utterly devoid of life.

At the edge of the deep pit, several figures stood amidst the billowing smoke and falling snow.

The surrendered minister's figure appeared particularly lonely in the flying snow. The drum whip hung low in her hand, and at the tip of the whip, a faint, unwilling-to-be-extinguished purple light still danced silently, emitting an almost inaudible crackling sound.

Her face was paler than the swirling snow, and her breathing was slightly unsteady. However, she wasn't seriously injured, but rather the result of the exhaustion from the all-out attack. A few strands of her once neatly styled long hair were ruffled by the impact and were now being lifted by the biting wind, revealing a sliver of her profile.

The surrendered official glanced at the charred body at the bottom of the pit, feeling neither disgust nor pleasure, only a detached indifference, like looking at dust. The northern snowstorm, the bloodshed of the camp, this final struggle after death—to her, they were nothing more than another insignificant stain in the long course of time. Before the dust settled, her thoughts had already crossed this devastation, drifting towards the depths of the perpetually snow-capped Yin Mountains.

The outcome was already decided; the current predicament left her no time to linger even for a moment longer.

"Filth." A cold syllable escaped from her lips, so light it was almost swept away by the wind and snow. Then, her figure moved slightly, like a phantom merging into the wind and snow, disappearing silently into the vast whiteness without leaving a trace.

Hou Qing recalled his longsword. The blade was still gleaming, but the hilt was stained with a few streaks of dark blue dirt and a few almost invisible spots of dark red. He frowned slightly, then quickly pulled out a flawless white silk handkerchief and, with undisguised disdain, meticulously wiped away the tiny stains, oblivious to his surroundings.

The clamor, bloodshed, and chaos of the camp below seemed to exist in a different world from him. The sword quickly regained its shine, but he wiped it several more times, carefully examining it before letting go and allowing the silk handkerchief to be swept away by the wind and snow. Then, with a flicker, he vanished like a wisp of smoke.

The elder sister tiptoed and peered into the pit, then looked at the chaotic fighting that had broken out in various parts of the camp. After the death of Bali Shensu, his remaining troops had lost all fighting spirit and were like frightened birds, either fleeing or in disarray, no longer a threat.

She pouted, her childish face full of disappointment: "It's dead, no fun at all. The crazy woman's done, all that's left is some filth, not interesting at all." She rubbed her hands, which were red from the cold, then turned and shouted in the direction of the drought demon, her voice sounding particularly clear in the cold wind: "Big guy, let's go! Let's go! I'm freezing to death!"

But before the man could finish speaking, she had already hopped and skipped away towards the edge of the camp like a nimble bird.

The drought demon's enormous body stood beside the deep cave for a moment, then swept across the entire camp. It saw the remaining loyalists who had scattered in terror due to the collapse of the Bali Shensu, being surrounded by nobles who had come to their senses and led their troops. Further away, there were many ordinary Chute tribe herders who were fleeing the center of the camp in panic, with their families in tow.

He nodded silently, his hoarse voice like muffled thunder rolling across the chaotic camp: "Don't hurt the innocent!" As he spoke, he rushed out and rescued several children who had fallen to the ground and were wailing. Only then did he take heavy steps, trudging through the snow, and stride after his sister in the direction she had disappeared.

If the camp was somewhat restrained before the surrendered officials were still there because they were unclear about the four men's stance, then the entire Chute tribe suddenly erupted into chaos after the officials left one by one.

"Heaven's punishment has arrived! Bali Shensu has been executed!" An old nobleman of the Chute tribe, his beard and hair standing on end, though his face still bore the marks of imprisonment and whip marks, suddenly unleashed astonishing power. He raised a scimitar he had snatched and roared, "Follow me to slay the remnants of the traitors, cleanse our clan, and console our unjustly killed kin!"

This roar was like igniting a powder keg. The nobles who had been held back by fear, the tribespeople who had been coerced, and even some ordinary soldiers who had seen through Bali Shensu's cruel nature, all had their pent-up anger and humiliation erupt at this moment.

"Kill! Slaughter these beasts!"

Roars and curses coalesced into a raging torrent. No longer cowering, they picked up weapons from the ground—bone spears, scimitars, even broken wooden clubs—their eyes bloodshot, and like a flood bursting its banks, they surged towards the remnants of Bali Shensu's forces, who were still reeling from the sudden death of Yili Jin and the overwhelming power of the Corpse Ancestor.

These remaining forces were mostly desperate criminals who had been brainwashed or bound by self-interest by Bali Shensu. Yelü's sudden death left them without their leader. Faced with this overwhelming counterattack, some still tried to put up a stubborn resistance, brandishing their weapons and roaring; but most showed fear and instinctively wanted to retreat. But the tide of anger instantly engulfed them.

Amidst the flashing blades and flying blood and flesh, screams and roars suddenly mingled together in the camp.

At the heart of all this chaos, slaughter, and revenge, beside the enormous pit that buried Bali Shensu, an eerie silence remained, utterly out of place with its surroundings.

The dozen or so remaining tree maidens did not go berserk or attack others as expected. They also had injuries from the shockwave and flying debris, and their movements were no longer as ghostly and swift as before, but stiff and sluggish. The signature eerie blue light in their eyes was now as faint as a candle in the wind, flickering uncertainly, as if it would be extinguished at any moment.

Ignoring the deafening shouts of battle, the clashing of weapons, and the dying cries, they staggered to the edge of the pit as if drawn by invisible threads. Then, in an extremely incongruous yet strangely synchronized manner, they slid stiffly down the charred slope and gathered around the charred and mangled corpse of Bali Shensu.

There was no sound, no communication; they simply surrounded him, like a circle of silent, broken stone statues. Deep within their empty eye sockets, the faint, eerie blue light seemed to point to the lifeless shell at the bottom of the pit.

The fighting in the camp reached a fever pitch. The nobles and their people held a decisive advantage, and the remnants of Bali Shensu's forces were swiftly divided and annihilated. The survivors either knelt in surrender or attempted to escape through the gaps in the chaos. Shouts of victory began to echo throughout the camp, mingled with the cries of those who had lost loved ones and the bewildered cries for the future. No one paid any attention to the deep pit that symbolized the source of all the disaster; the joy of victory and the urgency of clearing the battlefield consumed everyone's attention.

Just then, at the bottom of the pit, the faint, almost invisible, eerie blue light in the eyes of the tree maidens gathered there flickered abruptly and simultaneously, like the last beat of a dying heart.

Then, they moved.

Their movements were no longer so stiff. They stretched out their arms, which were also covered with small wounds and had an unhealthy, grayish color, and instead of touching the gruesome wounds on the charred body, they carefully lifted Bali Shensu's ankles, wrists, and the relatively intact parts of his torso.

Their movements were extremely slow, imbued with an indescribable focus and reverence, as if they were moving a priceless treasure, or carrying out a final command etched into their very bones. It was as if someone was directing them; they simply lifted the corpse with remarkable coordination.

Then, their steps, no longer hesitant and clumsy, suddenly became rapid and strange. Carrying the corpse, they swiftly climbed the steep slope of the pit with a stiff yet unusually fast posture.

They avoided the areas of the camp where flames raged and fighting was most intense, and plunged headlong into the desolate path at the edge of the camp, which had been completely destroyed by the explosion and was filled with tattered felt, overturned wooden frames, and snow.

At this moment, the wind and snow seemed to become accomplices, howling and swirling up the snow on the ground, frantically pounding and quickly covering the traces they left behind, blurring their eerie figures as they swiftly moved through the ruins and shadows, carrying corpses.

As the last tree woman disappeared completely into the depths of a shadow cast by the huge, tattered yurt frame, in the center of the camp, a Chute nobleman who had just cut down the last stubborn remnant seemed to sense something and subconsciously glanced towards the deep pit.

There, only a charred, empty pit remained. The wind and snow swept through, raising a cloud of ashes.

He panted heavily, flicking the blood off his knife, dismissing it as a hallucination. He reasoned that the commotion caused by those mysterious figures' powerful attack meant that even if Bali Shensu's body hadn't turned to ash, it would likely have been trampled and buried in the chaos. He turned and ran towards the elder who was still calling for the clansmen to be rallied, leaving that glimpse behind.

A strong northerly wind suddenly swept up a withered iris petal, stained with dark red blood, from the edge of the pit, swirling it as it blew towards the chaotic battlefield in the center of the camp.

That petal, like a dying black butterfly, finally drifted down into a pool of warm, viscous blood that had not yet frozen, quickly becoming soaked through and sinking to the bottom.

The survivors of the Chute tribe, whether victorious nobles or terrified commoners, did not bother to investigate the location of Bali Shensu's body. To them, the pit was nothing more than scorched earth and a symbol of victory.

The surviving elders shouted hoarsely, trying to gather the terrified tribesmen, count the casualties, and extinguish the remaining burning yurts. The cries of grief, the groans of the wounded, and the shouts of those directing the reconstruction mingled together in the snow-covered camp, filled with the exhaustion of survivors and the bewildered smell of gunpowder.

------

A few days later, at the Royal Court in Dading Prefecture.

Shuliduo sat on a low couch covered with a complete snow wolf skin, with a fully drawn map of the northern desert spread out in front of her. Her fingers moved unconsciously over the map, her fingertips rounded, first lightly touching the mark representing Yudujin Mountain, then slowly sweeping eastward, pausing briefly at several strategic points, as if silently deducing something.

The tent flap was lifted silently, bringing in a blast of cold air. Shili Qixiang strode swiftly into the tent, her voice low and urgent: "Your Majesty, the Snow Falcon has dispatched swift riders with urgent news. A drastic change has occurred in the Chute tribe. Bali Shensu... has been killed by a mysterious master at the altar in his main tent! The Chute tribe immediately turned against the Chute, and Bali Shensu's remaining followers were all wiped out. The surviving nobles are currently cleaning up the mess, but the entire tribe has been severely weakened. The envoy sent to the royal court is already on his way."

A moment of deathly silence fell over the tent. Then, the faces of the royal officials, generals, and tribal leaders standing on both sides instantly lit up with wild joy. They clasped their hands and bowed, their cries of congratulations rising and falling: "Heaven blesses the northern desert!" "The Empress Dowager is blessed! This villain has been executed, a great relief to the people!" "Bali Shensu defied Heaven and has finally been punished!" Shuliduo's finger, which was pointing at the map, paused slightly. She slowly raised her eyelids, her gaze not immediately falling on the congratulating officials, nor on Shili Qixiang standing nearby, but rather past the throng of people, landing on Shi Jingtang, who sat upright in the shadows inside the tent.

"A mysterious master?" Her voice was calm, devoid of emotion. "Did you see their face clearly? Or... what kind of techniques do they use?"

Shili Qixiang lowered his head even further: "Your Majesty, the scene was too chaotic, and the scale of the attack was astonishing. The Chute tribe could only confirm from afar that Bali Shensu was dead on the spot, with no trace of his body. As for the person who attacked... his whereabouts were elusive, and he came and went like the wind. No one in the Chute tribe knew his identity, nor could they find any trace of him. They only knew that the incident happened suddenly and that his power was overwhelming..."

She paused briefly, her voice even lower, "This servant dares to speculate, it might be... the expert that Khan Xiao sent to Yinshan to assist in the battle..."

Shuliduo let out a very soft "hmm" from her nose, it was impossible to tell whether she agreed or simply acknowledged it. Her gaze finally fell completely on Shi Jingtang in the shadows, her eyes sharp as if they could pierce through the darkness.

Shi Jingtang felt the tangible gaze upon him, and his back instinctively straightened, like a fully drawn bowstring. His hands hung at his sides, but his fingertips were slightly curled under the sleeves of his robe, revealing a hint of barely perceptible tension.

"This is a blessing from Heaven upon the Northern Desert, and also the result of the concerted efforts of all of you." Shuliduo finally spoke, his voice regaining its usual majesty and composure. His gaze swept over the assembled officials, carrying a tone of reassurance and approval. "With Bali Shensu executed and the Chute tribe loyal, the situation in the Northern Desert is now settled. You have all worked tirelessly these past few days. Today, go back and rest, and await the arrival of the Chute envoy before discussing further rewards and arrangements."

These words both affirmed the outcome and reassured the people. Upon hearing this, the courtiers bowed again, and with satisfaction and excitement, filed out of the royal tent. The heavy tent curtains fell, shutting out the wind, snow, and noise outside, instantly making the tent spacious and quiet.

“Mr. Shi,” Shuliduo began, her tone as calm as if stating a common occurrence, “it seems that the information you brought is only half correct.” She removed her fingertips from the map and lightly tapped the edge of the low couch. “Bali Shensu is dead, and the Chute tribe is in chaos. Unfortunately, it is not as you said, that the Jin Kingdom’s poisonous plot was exposed and caused internal strife, but rather that he was crushed to death by some unknown person…”

She paused, her voice still steady: "Your father-in-law's move was meticulously planned for a long time. He used Bali Shensu's rebellion to frame the Liang army and incite conflict in the northern deserts... In the end, he met such an end. Bali Shensu, this pawn, didn't even make a ripple before turning into charcoal. Ha, it seems his manipulative methods were ultimately a low-level tactic."

Without any hesitation, Shi Jingtang rose and knelt down with a thud: "Your Majesty, please be wise. Bali Shensu acted perversely, incurring the wrath of Heaven and the resentment of the people. His death was entirely his own fault. My father-in-law also acted perversely, attempting to disrupt the grasslands. His scheme failed and he perished, which is a clear sign of Heaven's will to protect our northern desert. I... I am fortunate to have Your Majesty's protection, which allowed me to expose his treacherous plot. Although Bali Shensu is dead, my willingness to serve Your Majesty remains. I only ask that I may perform a small service to help Your Majesty quell the rebellion of Yelü Lage and others as soon as possible, and restore peace to the grasslands."

Shulido watched his prostrate figure silently for a long time without saying a word. The shadows of the charcoal fire danced on the tent wall, casting flickering light and shadow on half of her face. Finally, she looked away and returned her gaze to the map.

"Get up." There was no forgiveness or blame in his voice. "Block the news of the Chu Te tribe. Have Zhao Siwen proceed along the original route, but not too fast. Send out more scouts to keep an eye on the movements at Yudujin Mountain. Now that the bait has been laid, let's see when that big fish will lose its patience."

"Yes." Shiri Kika quickly replied, glancing at Shi Jingtang as she turned around.

His back was soaked with cold sweat and felt icy cold. He lowered his head, carefully took his leave, and bowed as he left the royal tent, trying to appear more humble.

Shuliduo's gaze returned to the mark of Yudujin Mountain on the map, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the hilt of the Tang sword on the table, pondering who this so-called mysterious person was... If the killing of Bali Shensu was done by Xiao Yan, he shouldn't have notified her in advance.

------

Yudu Jinshan.

Yelü Lage's royal tent was brightly lit, with huge tallow candles burning, illuminating the interior as if it were daytime, and also reflecting Yelü Lage's broad face, which was flushed red from the smell of alcohol.

He was wearing a cloak symbolizing the king of the northern desert, but he opened the front of it due to excitement, revealing his thick chest hair.

Dressed in Jin attire and travel-worn, Quinn stood in the center of the royal tent, spittle flying from his mouth, his voice booming so loudly it drowned out the wind outside: "Great Khan, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity is at hand. My lord has received confirmed news that the royal court's elite troops have been lured out by Zhao Siwen to quell the rebellion, leaving Dading Prefecture and the southern desert as vulnerable as lambs to the slaughter. I, the King of Jin, have decreed that the time is ripe and there is no time to lose. We await only the Great Khan's command, and all our Jin forces, both inside and outside the royal court, will respond immediately. With this coordinated attack from within and without, the matter can be settled!"

Yelü Lage panted heavily, his chest heaving, his eyes gleaming with greed. He slammed his hand on the heavy wooden table in front of him, making the wine bowl jump. "Good, good, what a brilliant inside-outside collaboration! That woman Shuliduo's days of riding roughshod over my warriors in the northern deserts, relying on the Liang people's backing, are over!"

He grabbed the wine bowl, tilted his head back, and gulped down a large mouthful of wine, which flowed freely down his tangled beard and soaked his open clothes.

Upon seeing this, the tribal leaders, large and small, seated on either side of the tent, such as Yilijin of the Yishi tribe and several leaders of the Diela tribe who had already secretly sided with Yelü Lage, immediately erupted in deafening excitement.

"May Heaven bless the northern desert, let us take it when it is time!"

"Reclaim the royal court and restore our glory in the northern desert!"

Rough shouts, slamming of tables, and clinking of wine glasses echoed throughout the royal tent, creating quite a lively scene.

Sitting below Yelü Lage, the fake Li immediately raised his wine bowl, laughed loudly, and said, "Great Khan is wise. The Eternal Heaven has long since despised that woman who depends on others. She only seized her high position by relying on her beauty and the power of the Central Plains people. Now that the royal court is empty, it is the time for Great Khan to reclaim the throne that belongs to you. We are willing to be the vanguard for Great Khan, even at the cost of our lives. Those tribal warriors who are loyal to Great Khan are also eager to fight, just waiting for Great Khan's command."

His words were highly inflammatory, and the tent echoed with voices of agreement: "Yes, reclaim the throne!" "Charge into the royal court!" "Let Shuliduo know who the true masters of the grasslands are!"

Completely ignited by the frenzied atmosphere, Yelü Lage abruptly stood up, smashing his wine bowl on the ground with a piercing shattering sound. "Issue the order!" his voice boomed, carrying an undeniable resolve. "Warriors of all tribes, prepare immediately! Speed ​​is of the essence. At the latest, march to the royal court by dawn the day after tomorrow! I will personally cut off that woman's head and hang it atop the golden roof of the royal court. Send another troop of fast horses swiftly to the Chute tribe, find Bali Shensu, and order him to immediately lead his entire tribe, traveling day and night, to the royal court to join me! Tell him that glory and wealth are within his grasp!"

As soon as the order was given, the atmosphere in the entire camp instantly became heated. The mournful sound of horns rang out, the neighing of warhorses rose and fell, and the heavy footsteps and the clanging of weapons began to echo between the tents.

Taking advantage of the brief chaos as the messenger rushed out and the various nobles and chieftains inside the tent received their orders, fake Lee rose and looked at Quinn. Their eyes met silently, and fake Lee subtly turned to lead Quinn to a corner deep within the royal tent, completely shrouded in the shadow of a massive weapons rack. The two men each took a drink, the flickering light of the tallow candles inside the tent casting long shadows against the felt wall.

The fake Li's voice was very low, with a hint of coldness: "What about the matter that the commander-in-chief was worried about before? Li Maozhen has been spending a lot of time alone lately, looking at old things repeatedly, his eyes wandering... I'm afraid he has already developed other intentions and is wavering."

He paused, his tone growing even colder, "You know his martial arts are unfathomable. If he were to betray us at the crucial moment of the uprising, or harbor ulterior motives, he would become a major threat and ruin everything."

Quinn downed the drink in one gulp, his fingers slowly tracing the rough rim of the ceramic cup, a glint of light flashing in his eyes, and responded in a very low voice.

"The Commander-in-Chief has long made a shrewd decision. Li Maozhen is a man of profound martial arts skills, and his will is as firm as a rock, unbreakable. However, his greatest weakness lies in his chaotic mind. The Commander-in-Chief's intention is to use one tiger to devour another, eliminating him by leveraging the situation. His martial arts are superb, and a direct confrontation would only increase the variables and easily alert him. However, mere brute force is nothing more than this. Since you are by his side, you should seize the opportunity to take his troops, preventing him from defecting in the face of battle. Then, you should incite Yelü Lige to fight against him, using him as a tool to kill one another. When one side is weakened and the other is defeated, that will be your golden opportunity to control the narrative in the northern desert..."

At this point, a flicker of fervent excitement and genuine awe flashed deep in the eyes of the fake Li.

This is indeed the work of a great general, who, without losing a single soldier, manipulates people's hearts and kills with his power.

His gaze pierced through the gaps in the crowd, landing on the figure standing alone outside the clamor at the entrance of the royal tent. "Go back and tell the commander-in-chief that this time, I will not let him down."

Li Maozhen crossed his arms and leaned against the thick felt of the tent entrance.

The heated pre-battle clamor inside the tent, the excited roars of the tribal leaders, all seemed to be separated from him by an invisible barrier.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze fixed on the snowflakes outside the tent, flickering in and out of the torchlight. One hand unconsciously slipped into his robes, his fingertips repeatedly tracing the edge of a letter he kept close to his body. The dim firelight illuminated his sharply defined profile, half bright, half shrouded in deep shadow. In his heterochromatic eyes, there was no excitement of impending battle, only an unyielding, heavy detachment and silence. He was completely unaware of the gaze cast upon him from the shadows behind him.

Quinn said no more, casually placing the empty cup on the weapon rack, his face quickly regaining the composure befitting an envoy of Jin. He straightened his robes, stepped out of the shadows, and went straight to Yelü Lage, who was surrounded by tribal chiefs. He proclaimed loudly, "Great Khan, the military situation is urgent and cannot be delayed. Your humble servant must return immediately and report to my lord, the King of Jin, your grand strategy of leading your army to the royal court and establishing your rule. The entire nation of Jin will surely beat the drums of victory for the Great Khan and await good news."

Yelü Lage was immersed in the fervent fantasy of becoming the ruler of the grasslands. Upon hearing this, he waved his hand and said magnanimously, "Good! I'll trouble the envoy to go back and tell the King of Jin that once I take over the royal court, the Jin Kingdom will certainly receive its share of benefits. Just tell him to prepare congratulatory gifts. Hahahaha!" Another burst of wild laughter echoed in the tent.

Quinn left immediately, and Fake Li quickly put on an enthusiastic expression, rejoining the frenzied atmosphere around Yelü Lage. However, his eyes still occasionally glanced at the lonely figure at the door.

The wind and snow intensified, howling as they swept across the hills, churning up thousands of snowdrifts. At the foot of Yudujin Mountain, specks of firelight, like the awakened eyes of beasts, stretched across the vast snowfield, flickering restlessly, brewing an impending long march.

(End of this chapter)