Zhang Kui's Journey to the West in the Investiture of the Gods

Yin Shang Dynasty, North Sea Front, Rear Army, C-Battalion

The cold wind from Beihai, like a bone-scraping knife, swept past the gate, carrying snowflakes and a faint smell of blood.

Standing before the mountain of grain sacks piled up in the camp, Zhang Kui moved his numb legs, adjusted his slightly frostbitten ears on his bronze helmet, and exhaled a thick white mist.

As the grain transport officer of the rear army, his job was usually quite leisurely, but it became a hot potato during wartime. At the front, the seventy-two lords of Beihai had collectively rebelled, and the battle was at a stalemate. Grand Tutor Wen issued three orders a day to urge the delivery of grain, making the messengers almost run their legs off.

But this grain and fodder...

"Oh no, sir! Ten more cartloads of grain are missing!"

An old soldier from the supply battalion tumbled and fell to the ground in front of Zhang Kui, his face covered in snot and tears that were indistinguishable from the cold.

"The brothers who patrolled the camp last night kept their eyes wide open, they didn't even doze off, but the grain carts... the grain carts just vanished into thin air, and there wasn't even a trace of them on the ground!"

The adjutant standing next to Zhang Kui suddenly slammed his fist into the pile of scattered grain sacks beside him, smashing a shallow dent into the frozen grain sack.

"It must be those damned heretics again! Relying on their knowledge of earth-遁 (earth-遁 is a type of magical ability) and to manipulate objects, they specialize in stealing our army's provisions. My lord, if this continues, let alone supporting the Grand Tutor, we will all starve and freeze to death in this bitterly cold land of the North Sea."

Upon hearing this, a desperate panic, like a plague, silently spread among the soldiers escorting the grain supplies, suffocating them and making it harder to breathe—more stifling than the damned weather in Beihai.

Zhang Kui did not answer.

His eyes were fixed on the dark, inky horizon in the distance, which was the direction of the Yin Shang Northern Sea Camp. The air was thick with the aura of killing, and there were faint flashes of precious light, which quickly faded away.

Wen Zhong, the Grand Tutor of the Shang Dynasty, was a minister entrusted with the care of the late emperor and a third-generation disciple of the Jie Sect. The Shang Dynasty's impeccable pillar of strength, the purple-gold beam that spans the sea, is probably now extremely anxious about the matter of provisions.

Coming back to his senses, Zhang Kui reached into his pocket and pulled out a palm-sized, square, hard "clod of earth" that was so hard it could break your teeth.

No one knew that the body named Zhang Kui was actually inhabited by a soul from another world. Even fewer knew that the unassuming object in his hand was an "experiment" he had concocted in this world of immortals and demons, of profound Taoist magic, by combining a bit of food processing knowledge from his previous life with some remnants of ancient witchcraft bloodline body-refining techniques he had mastered in this life.

"Quiet down, what's the panic?"

Zhang Kui's voice wasn't loud, but it miraculously suppressed the commotion around him. He weighed the "clod of dirt" in his hand.

"Pass down the order to have all the grains, beans, dried meat, and dairy products currently in the camp processed as quickly as possible according to the recipe I just gave you."

"Speed ​​up the refining process?"

The adjutant was stunned, staring at the mountain of provisions. "Sir, how can we possibly have enough time? Besides, what is all this?"

Zhang Kui tossed the dusty, hard lump to his adjutant.

"Hurry up and finish making this. I'll call it... Marching Shortbread."

The adjutant instinctively took it, and finding it surprisingly light, nearly dropped it again. He stared at the brick-like object in his hand, his eyes filled with disbelief: "Marching biscuits, sir, this...this thing is edible?"

"Whether it's edible or not, we'll know once we try it."

Zhang Kui said in a calm tone, "Break it open and distribute it to everyone. Each person should hold it in their mouth, chew it, and then swallow it. Do not swallow it directly."

As everyone put the broken pieces of the marching biscuit into their mouths and chewed, an indescribable, rich aroma exploded forth. Then, a gentle yet exceptionally satisfying warmth flowed from their throats straight into their stomachs, and a feeling of fullness instantly spread throughout their limbs. It was as if they hadn't eaten a tiny bit of food, but rather drunk a bowl of thick porridge and meat soup.

After a brief moment of astonishment, gasps of amazement rose and fell from the crowd.

"It's... still warm!"

"Burp, I'm full! I don't feel hungry anymore!"

"My frozen fingers... seem to have warmed up a bit?"

The adjutant looked at the marching biscuit in his hand, then at the seemingly endless mountain of grain behind him, and suddenly realized something. His voice changed: "Sir...you mean...all of these can be refined into this..."

"Indeed, compared to provisions, the marching biscuits are reduced in volume by more than 80% and in weight by at least half. They are easy to store and carry, and one whole biscuit can sustain an ordinary soldier for three days. If one has cultivation, the support will last even longer."

Zhang Kui waved his hand to interrupt his adjutant's questioning, his eyes sharp, and said, "What are you all standing there for? Get to work immediately! Gather all the cooks in the camp, and get every able-bodied soldier moving! Set up the 'fire array,' set up the pots, and fry the flatbread!"

Military orders are absolute.

The entire Bingzi Camp was instantly transformed into a huge, bustling food workshop. Flames roared under the improvisation of a simple array, dozens of enormous bronze cauldrons were erected, and various grains and supplies were thrown in, stewed, stirred, blended, compressed, and dried.

Zhang Kui moved among them, occasionally casting in a few condensation runes originating from the ancient methods of the Wu Clan. The thin Wu Clan bloodline in his body seemed to become more and more solid in this refining process.

a few days later.

The provisions that originally required a large convoy and thousands of laborers to move slowly could now be transported by only a hundred or so light carts.

These supplies, escorted by five hundred elite cavalry and led by Zhang Kui, quietly left the rear army camp under the cover of night. Then, like an arrow released from a bow, they followed the previously scouted supply route and headed straight for the central army camp on the North Sea front.

Traveling light and with ease makes you several times faster.

Along the way, the grain transport team was on tenterhooks, fearing that the bizarre method of robbing grain would reappear. However, perhaps because the convoy looked too "shabby" and did not resemble a supply convoy transporting grain at all, it actually managed to arrive at the central army camp without any major incidents and just barely made it within the stipulated time.

Upon seeing the imposing city walls of the Beihai Merchant Army camp, now marked with traces of magical bombardment, Zhang Kui breathed a sigh of relief; they had finally arrived.

Grand Tutor Wen Zhong, who had already received the news, actually came out to greet them personally.

This Grand Tutor of the court, clad in military armor, had a pale gold complexion and three wide-open eyes. The divine light between his brows was slightly dimmed, a testament to the immense exhaustion from months of arduous battle. Behind him, his lieutenants and disciples of the Jie Sect, each possessed extraordinary auras, yet all wore expressions of weariness.

"Zhang Kui!"

Wen Zhong's voice remained calm, yet it carried a hint of barely perceptible urgency.

"Where are the provisions?"

"Reporting to the Grand Tutor, this batch of provisions has been safely delivered. All 100,000 soldiers in the army will receive seven days' worth."

Zhang Kui clasped his hands in a salute, his voice booming like a bell, causing the soldiers transporting grain behind him to straighten their backs unconsciously.

Upon hearing this, a hint of relief flickered across Wen Zhong's usually impassive face. He glanced at the mere hundred or so light carts, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly. How could a hundred or so carts possibly carry enough provisions for a large army? Were there still supply carts that hadn't arrived?

The supply of provisions is of utmost importance and must be inspected first.

"Good! If that's true, you deserve the greatest credit for this battle! Quickly, open the grain carts; I, the Grand Tutor, wish to inspect them personally!"

More than ten fierce-looking soldiers of the merchant army stepped forward and suddenly ripped off the tarpaulins covering the leading grain carts.

In an instant, all was silent.

There was no fragrant wheat as I had expected, nor salty, fishy dried meat.

The moment the shroud was lifted, beams of light, almost viscous and dazzlingly bright, mixed with a pure essence of the five grains, erupted like a volcano that had been suppressed for a long time!

The grain carts were covered in a swirling array of colors—red, blue, yellow, white, and black—that shot into the sky, dispelling the gloomy clouds over the North Sea. Countless intricate and mysterious ancient spiritual patterns flickered between reality and illusion.

The abundant spiritual energy rippled with the wind, spreading out with a roar, causing the banners in front of the gate to flutter wildly, and some soldiers who were not standing still were even blown backward.

What kind of grain truck is this?

They were clearly vortexes of spiritual energy compressed to their limit and then suddenly erupting.

Under the impact of these spiritual lights, Wen Zhong's half-closed divine eye on his forehead suddenly opened uncontrollably, and a blazing divine light shot out, reflecting the soaring spiritual light.

The dazzling light reflected on Wen Zhong's shocked face and his third eye, which was fully open and radiating divine light.

Those Jie Sect cultivators were all horrified, their eyes filled with shock and disbelief. Some even subconsciously formed protective hand seals or summoned protective magic treasures.

Zhang Kui himself was stunned, staring blankly at the sky filled with spiritual light, a single thought flashing wildly through his mind—

"Wow... is it really that amazing?"

"Compressed biscuits... how come these things also squeeze in the spiritual energy of heaven and earth!"

At this moment, the entire central army camp was completely silenced by this truckload of compressed biscuits... uh, no, "marching biscuits".