Conversation in the Military Tent, Pension

The wind chimes under the eaves trembled in the cold morning breeze.

Inside the house, the drying clothes occasionally swayed as stray gusts slipped through the cracks.

Odd—one of the local Southern Border-style garments seemed to have vanished.

Whether it had been spirited away by some nimble-fingered thief or simply misplaced, no one could say.

The ice sculpture remained still, its glow faintly mirroring the jade phoenix’s radiance.

She wasn’t heading to the military camp today, seemingly caught in a critical phase of her training.

"Strange," Li Mo muttered.

"Why can’t I break through?"

Stepping out of the side room, Little Li stowed the Gilded Creation Seal into his system space, lost in thought.

Turns out, in the realm of aloofness, the Monkey King still reigned supreme.

The Creation Seal had failed to imprint yet again.

"Haven’t I already mastered the Somersault Cloud?"

Li Mo walked down the street, casually buying a Southern Border breakfast—a spicy, fragrant flatbread.

As he headed toward the Greenwood Barracks, his mind churned.

His Indestructible Diamond Body was already perfected, though its duration depended on his physical endurance.

The Seventy-Two Transformations needed no explanation.

So it must be the Somersault Cloud?

"The true wonder of the Somersault Cloud lies in traversing a thousand miles in a single step," he mused.

"Right now, I can only fly through the air—far from mastery."

"But ‘lightness’... that’s too abstract."

Lost in his thoughts, Li Mo suddenly collided with a vaguely familiar figure midway.

He froze, barely recognizing the person before him.

Disheveled, clad in tattered and soot-stained clothes, only the burning intensity in their eyes and that familiar wariness—along with an inexplicable air of stealth—gave them away.

Huang Donglai?!

"Donglai, have you expanded your side gigs to the Beggars’ Sect now? Your range is impressive."

"Brother Li? Ah, I didn’t expect to see you in Greenwood City."

Huang Donglai’s eyes brightened before he sighed wryly.

"To be honest, I was entrusted to deliver urgent military intelligence to the Greenwood Barracks. This disguise was for convenience."

Li Mo nodded, the glow of his Heavenly Destiny Eye fading as he smiled.

"Ah, so you’re moonlighting as a courier. I was just thinking of you yesterday—Commander Qu even offered me a prized steed, but I turned it down."

"???"

Huang Donglai had been oddly touched—after all, few in this world remembered him.

Until he heard the reason.

"Donglai, since your report is urgent and meant for Commander Qu anyway, why not come with me into the camp?"

"My thoughts exactly."

Li Mo led Huang Donglai into the Greenwood Barracks, where the patrolling soldiers, recognizing Li Mo, let them pass without question.

The Southern Border teemed with calamity beasts. Yesterday, Li Mo hadn’t even finished showcasing all the forms from his Seventy-Two Transformations, and today he’d planned to continue the military drills.

The training grounds were already alive with sergeants and squad leaders drilling their troops, the entire camp buzzing with fervor.

To Huang Donglai, the scene carried an ominous weight—like the calm before a storm.

"Brother Li, war seems imminent in Greenwood City. You should leave while you can."

"War?"

Li Mo frowned.

The Southern Border hadn’t seen conflict in years. Why now?

A possibility flickered in his mind, but he stayed silent, his brow furrowed.

After a brief wait, an aide delivered Commander Qu’s response and escorted them into the central command tent.

Inside, a sprawling sand table—over ten feet long and wide—displayed a detailed map of Greenwood City. This was clearly classified intel, yet Commander Qu had chosen to meet them here.

Standing before the map, Commander Qu greeted them with a weary but warm smile.

"My aide mentioned that Young Hero Li’s friend carries urgent military intelligence?"

"Commander Qu, this humble one is Huang Donglai..."

Huang Donglai handed over the letter, visibly relieved once it was delivered.

Li Mo burned with curiosity about the contents, but this wasn’t something he could pry into. Still, his heart grew heavy as he watched Commander Qu’s expression darken.

"Sit," Commander Qu offered, pouring tea for them both.

"This letter is vital. Thank you for risking your life to deliver it. No wonder you’re a friend of Young Hero Li."

Then, turning to Li Mo, he took a deep breath.

"Leave Greenwood City."

Li Mo set down his cup. "Is the situation that dire?"

Commander Qu stared blankly at the map, his exhaustion now plain.

"These past days, I’ve used the Art of War Divination to simulate the battle countless times. At first, our chances were thirty percent. Your arrival pushed it past fifty."

"Then this letter arrived."

"Yes, I knew this war was coming. Days ago, I meant to send you and the Young Marquis away, but I held my tongue—for the sake of those slim odds."

"I couldn’t bear to see this city, built from nothing by the Prince and his men, reduced to ashes..."

"..."

Li Mo fell silent.

How had Commander Qu known in advance?

The Celestial Jade.

He wasn’t stupid—just inexperienced in war.

"And you, Commander? If there’s no chance of victory—"

"Pots break at the well’s edge; generals die on the battlefield."

Commander Qu refilled their cups.

"Truthfully, I should’ve died years ago, when the Prince and I slew that cursed crocodile."

"You two are different. Both of you are prodigies, young heroes with boundless futures ahead."

"Go. Any later, and it’ll be too late."

He clasped his hands in a tired salute.

Silence settled over the tent, the wind outside howling like a blade.

Then Huang Donglai spoke again.

"The letter was given to me by a dying scout—likely one of yours."

A bamboo tally slid onto the table.

"Young Hero Li, the person you sought is here. There’s nothing left to tie you to this place."

Outside the tent, Huang Donglai whispered, "Brother Li, are you alright?"

"I... Let’s go. We’ll collect Lu Yi’s death benefits."

Li Mo shook his head, his gaze steady.

He’d once imagined glory on the battlefield—heroic deeds and unmatched might.

But now, faced with that military tally, the reality was stark.

Of course. Pots break at the well’s edge; generals die on the battlefield.

War meant bloodshed. Death was inevitable.

He’d never met this soldier named Lu Yi. Delivering his benefits home would be the decent thing to do, wouldn’t it?

But what if—

This war had begun because of him?

Ten minutes later, they reached the supply tent.

The quartermaster took the tally and counted out a handful of coins.

"Young Hero Li, this is all there is."

"Only this much?"

"The court mandates twelve taels of silver for fallen soldiers, but we’re far from the capital. Even our pay comes from the Prince’s own coffers..."

Thirty-odd coins, each worn smooth, gleamed in the light.

And in their reflection—a young man’s bloodless face.