Chaotic Times and Disasters: I Hunt Down Martial Arts Masters and Become a God

After many days of marching, the army finally saw Jingjing again.

Zhuque Street was packed with people lining the streets to welcome them.

The vanguard battalion had fewer than two thousand remaining soldiers, but when these two thousand men walked down the street, their steps were as synchronized as if they were one person.

An Sheng carried the silver spear at the front of the group, the tip of which still bore traces of the blood of the Southern Frontier Gu cultivators, which could not be wiped off.

Liu Wentong followed behind, leaning on his crutches. The bandages wrapped around his legs had been replaced with clean ones, but he still walked with a limp.

Old Zhao, with a newly whittled pipe stem dangling from his mouth, watched the embers in his pipe flicker in the morning breeze.

Leo was ordered by Fu Qing to shrink its size, transforming from a giant lion nearly ten feet tall at the shoulder into a large dog that only reached a person's knees, squatting at Fu Qing's feet.

Even though he had shrunk in size, his lion-like face full of fangs and the lingering demonic fire in his mane still frightened the children on the roadside, who hid behind the adults.

An old man selling candied hawthorns was nearly startled and dropped his straw target. Fu Qing bent down, picked up the Leo, and tucked it under his arm.

"Dare to bare your teeth?"

The Leo retracted his fangs, looking aggrieved. "I was born this way, I didn't mean to scare people."

Fu Qing ignored him and continued walking forward. After more than half a year, he finally saw his home again.

The vermilion gate of Fu Qing's house was ajar. A small figure sat on the steps at the entrance. Two-year-old Fu Mingxuan had two pigtails and was holding a cloth tiger in her hand. She was idly tapping the steps with the tail of the cloth tiger.

Hearing footsteps, she raised her head, her dark eyes staring at Fu Qing for several breaths, then threw away the cloth tiger, stood up, and tilted her head to look at him for several more breaths.

She seemed to be recalling something. This person in armor looked somewhat like the father in her memory who used to lift her up above his head.

She tentatively called out, "Father?"

"Um."

With tears in her eyes, Fu Qing squatted down in front of the steps, put the Leo seat aside, and reached out her hand.

"Come here and let Daddy hug you."

Fu Mingxuan stared at him for several more moments, then her lips trembled, her eyes instantly filled with tears. She opened her little arms and stumbled towards him, throwing herself into his arms, hugging his neck and wailing.

"Daddy, where have you been! Why are you only coming back now! Why haven't you come back for so long! You smell terrible!"

Fu Qing picked her up, but the little girl wrapped her legs around his waist, buried her face in his neck and refused to lift it, crying so hard that she could barely breathe, her snot and tears covering his shoulder.

"It's all my fault! I'll apologize to you!"

Just then, the courtyard gate was pushed open from the inside, and Song Yawei stood at the door, stunned for a moment.

She had lost weight and her chin was more pointed. Standing there watching Fu Qing hold her daughter, she suddenly covered her mouth.

Fu Mingdao peeked out from behind her. The little boy was wearing a light blue robe, his hair was neatly combed, his face was tense, and his eyes held a scrutinizing look... He wasn't familiar with his father.

Fu Qing went to the battlefield not long after he was born. During the time he could walk and talk, his father was just a name that occasionally appeared in his mother's mouth.

He walked gracefully to Fu Qing and looked up at him.

"Who are you? Why are you holding your sister?"

Fu Qing knelt down, holding her daughter, and looked into his eyes.

"I am your father."

Fu Mingdao thought for a moment,

How can you prove it?

Fu Qing took out a clay figure he had bought by the roadside from his pocket and placed it in his palm. It was a cloth tiger made of clay, exactly the same as the real cloth tiger in Fu Mingxuan's hand.

Fu Mingdao looked down at the clay figure in silence for a long time, then raised his head, and a faint smile finally appeared on his tightly taut face.

Instead of rushing into Fu Qing's arms like his sister, he walked over, placed his little hand on Fu Qing's knee, patted it, and then turned to Song Yawei and said...

"Mother, Father is back."

Song Yawei nodded, stepped forward and touched the scar on his face, "Another one..."

Fu Qing grabbed her hand and chuckled, "It's nothing."

"Who is it, sis?"

Hearing the commotion, Song Nini ran out and saw Fu Qing squatting in the yard with his daughter in his arms and his son standing next to him. She was stunned for a moment.

She threw the spatula on the stove, ran over, circled Fu Qing, then circled him again, and suddenly punched him on the shoulder.

"Brother-in-law! How did you get so thin! Were you not getting enough to eat over there? I told you to bring more food, but you wouldn't! Look at your face, it's all skin and bones! Tonight I'll make you some pork rib soup, three pounds of ribs, no, five pounds!"

As she spoke, her eyes reddened, but she bit her lip to keep the tears from falling. She turned and rushed into the kitchen to search for ribs.

In the evening, Song Yawei cooked a large table of dishes.

Song Nini brought over a whole pot of pork rib soup. The soup was so thick that chopsticks could stand upright in it, and the pork ribs were piled high. While putting pork ribs into Fu Qing's bowl, she scolded him for not eating properly in the southern border region, saying that he had become so thin and needed to eat more.

Fu Mingxuan clung to Fu Qing from the start of the meal and refused to get down. She sat on his lap and scooped up the pork rib soup with a small spoon, her mouth glistening with oil.

Fu Mingdao sat next to Fu Qing, eating quietly, occasionally stealing a glance at his father.

Fu Qing noticed that he was looking at him, so she reached out and ruffled his little head.

"Hey kid, what are you looking at?"

Fu Mingdao looked away, remained silent for a moment, then looked back and placed a piece of spare rib into Fu Qing's bowl.

"Eat more, your mother says you've had a tough time fighting the war."

Mature and prudent.

Fu Qing laughed and ate the rib. He then gently patted his son's head. "Okay, Dad will eat more."

After dinner, Leo lay in the yard and was rewarded with two meat bones.

"Even if it's just a little, let's eat it..."

Its tail swung so hard it made Fu Mingxuan giggle.

Fu Mingdao was also very interested in this big toy. He walked over and cautiously reached out to touch the Leo's mane, but then withdrew his hand.

Leo lazily opened one eye.

"Touch me if you want, don't be so nervous. I'm your dad's mount, not a monster... no, I am a monster, but I've learned my lesson."

Fu Mingdao gently stroked his mane, his eyes widened, and he grinned.

...

The next day, in the Taiji Hall, Ling Yushu reviewed the battle report.

In his battle report, Zhang Wukai clearly described Fu Qing's achievements: breaking through Woye City, beheading the vanguard general of Yue Kingdom, leading the vanguard battalion to penetrate the allied forces' defenses, beheading the demon general, and killing the high priest deep in the Valley of Ten Thousand Gu.

Every single case is documented and has witnesses who have signed their names.

Ling Yushu looked at Fu Qing, who was standing in His Highness, and smiled.

"Fu Qing has worked hard and made great contributions. He deserves to be rewarded. He is hereby appointed as the General of Shengjing, and is granted a gold seal and purple ribbon, a Shengjing General's Mansion, and a fief of three thousand households."

Fu Qing bowed and said, "Thank you, Your Majesty."

The title of General of Shengjing sounds impressive, as he commands the troops of Jingjing and the surrounding three prefectures, but in reality, he has no troops under his command.

The actual command of the capital defense forces was in the hands of the Imperial Guard Commander, who was Ling Yushu's confidant. Fu Qing, the Shengjing General, could at most mobilize a few patrol teams, and couldn't even enter the gates of the Imperial Guard camp.

Fu Qing knew this was Ling Yushu's tactic, giving him increasingly prestigious titles, but never granting him real power.

The title of General of Shengjing sounds impressive, the mansion is grand, and the salary is generous, but there are no troops or power; it is merely a nominal title that is held in vain.

Crown Prince Ling Moqian sat at the foot of the imperial steps, a polite smile on his face, and nodded slightly to Fu Qing.

Ling Moxie stood behind Ling Moqian, her gaze met Fu Qing's for a moment, and the corners of her mouth curved slightly.

...

After the celebration banquet, Zhang Wukai walked up to Fu Qing with a bowl of wine in his hand and patted him heavily on the shoulder.

"I owe you a jar of wine. I'll repay you with one bowl today, and we'll drink the rest when you come to Southern Xinjiang another day."

"You're too kind, Mr. Zhang."

Fu Qing smiled, picked up his wine bowl and clinked it against his, then drank it all in one gulp.

...