Tome of Troubled Times

Chapter 408: A Man Does Not Associate with Vermin



Chapter 408: A Man Does Not Associate with Vermin

He had been struck in the back after exhausting his strength and succumbed to his injuries—this much was clear. However, the implications of his death were far more troubling.

Everyone had thought that Kuaiji was as defenseless as an unguarded brothel, ripe for anyone’s taking, which was why ambitious individuals like Zhu Huan had been eager to make a move. The truth was that he was by far not the only one who had such thoughts.

Zhu Huan’s troops were among the most elite of the coalition, yet he had not even gotten to face Maitreya himself. The Maitreya Cult had not even revealed all its tricks, and a mere thousand warrior monks were enough to decimate his army outside the city walls, with even him failing to escape.

Had Tang Buqi not intervened, the forces of Luling would have been completely wiped out, resulting in a catastrophic loss.

Tang Buqi’s actions, for most people, served as a powerful stabilizing force. His reliability reassured the coalition, and having such a leader brought cohesion.

A few watched him with a more critical eye, sensing the underlying currents. But at this moment, they had no time to worry about how Tang Buqi might quietly incorporate those troops into his own ranks or whether Zhu Huan’s descendants would henceforth pledge loyalty to the Tang Clan. These were matters for the future. The immediate issue remained to be how they were to proceed with the siege of Kuaiji.

As long as Maitreya remained alive, everyone would continue to feel as if they had a bone stuck in their throats, unable to eat or sleep in peace. Who would not fear being beheaded in their sleep by a Ranking of Earth expert? This was their most pressing concern.

It was only now that they realized that they were facing an enemy they knew nothing about. No spies could infiltrate Kuaiji, and no information leaked out. Previously, they had just assumed that Maitreya was done for, but now that someone had dared to probe the city, the mere tip of the iceberg that they had exposed had come with heavy losses. There were undoubtedly more dangers left to be uncovered.

How were they supposed to fight this battle?

Tang Buqi had previously said that the city was out of supplies and would fall within days. But now that seemed like a well-intentioned lie to maintain morale.

Without internal intelligence, how could he know how many supplies the city had? Moreover, based on the warrior monks’ performance, they might not even need food.

“Young Master Tang,” someone finally broke the silence. “The Demon Suppression Bureau might have more intelligence. Perhaps they know things that we don’t... How should we proceed? We’ll follow your lead.”

Tang Buqi waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t know much either. My aunt just told me not to rush.”

“So, are we just going to wait indefinitely for First Seat Tang’s arrival? If this drags on, I don’t know about the city, but our provisions won’t last.”

This was not a cowardly excuse—it was the truth.

It was late spring, a time when food supplies were truly running low. After fighting for so long, who had much grain left? This was the main reason many were secretly dissatisfied with Tang Buqi’s inaction. Each day they maintained the siege tightened their belts further—no one was here for a leisurely outing.

If this continued, Maitreya would not collapse under the siege; instead, the besieging forces might disband due to a lack of supplies.

Tang Buqi said, “I don’t know when my aunt will arrive, but we can’t just rely on her.”

...It’s your aunt, not ours. Don’t make it sound like we’re all relying on her.

Tang Buqi continued, “Based on what we can observe, we should make our own assessments.”

He motioned with his hand, and his soldiers outside brought in the headless body of a monk, placing it in the center of the hall.

Previously, even after being beheaded, this monk’s body continued to writhe and struggle, but now it was completely lifeless.

Tang Buqi crouched by the side of the warrior monk and said, “We can confirm that this isn’t a jiangshi or whatever. Before losing his head, he was alive. A fervent belief led him to willingly invite a god to possess him, which resulted in actual divine protection, making him unstoppable. This seems to be the core elite of the Maitreya Cult.”

Someone asked, “Why didn’t we see them in earlier battles? If they had appeared then, we would not have been able to stop them.”

Tang Buqi said, “They probably aren’t able to operate outside Kuaiji. When we encountered them outside the city, this headless body could still move, but now it’s completely lifeless. This suggests that they are restricted to a certain range.”

“So if we’re going to fight them, we should try to lure them away from Kuaiji? But they wouldn’t leave during their last stand, no matter what.”

“This situation must have a source. There should be a stronghold in the city that, if destroyed, would disrupt the effect,” said Tang Buqi. “We will have to apply full pressure in our siege at the same time, keeping them occupied so they can’t surround those who infiltrate the city.”

The theory was sound, but the lively discussion suddenly cooled, and no one responded.

This was not a plan where they could simply sit back and wait for powerful figures such as Tang Wanzhuang to resolve the issue before attacking. They were expected to fully engage the warrior monks to make it easier for Tang Wanzhuang and others to move around inside the city.

This meant casualties.

With Zhu Huan’s recent failure as a stark reminder, their forces could collapse in an instant. Who would dare to be the next sacrifice? And who knew how many of these warrior monks the Maitreya Cult had?

Tang Buqi looked around slowly, saying, “These warrior monks’ strength is limited. I estimate that it’s due to their own physical limitations, which restrict them from sustaining such great power for long. As long as we are prepared and hold them off, they should start to weaken after about the time it takes to burn a stick of incense. So all we need to do is hold them off for about that amount of time.”

Still, no one responded.

Tang Buqi then said, “The plan is to surround three sides and leave the south gate open. My Tang Clan will attack the north gate. Who is willing to lead the main assault on the east and west gates?”

Still, silence.

Tang Buqi looked at each person in turn, but they each avoided his gaze, hoping someone else would step forward first.

This was the final battle, and no one wanted to risk their lives. They would much rather others suffer the heavy losses, so they could swoop in later and reap the benefits. The question of who would rule Jiangnan was still up in the air, after all.

Tang Buqi’s eyes revealed clear disappointment.

The reason why his aunt had not yet arrived was partly because she needed time to recover from her previous injuries and partly because she was likely coordinating with other powerful figures to join her in her assault on the city. That would be the most dangerous and decisive moment.

But what if, after all that effort, his aunt managed to secure the support of powerful figures, yet he failed to provide the necessary support in the siege?

It would be absurd and absolutely laughable. Tang Wanzhuang was risking her life by entering the city, and Tang Buqi was leading the charge—but what about others? Had all the aristocratic families besides the Tang Clan died out?

At least Zhu Huan had ambition and was willing to act! But what about these people?

At that moment, laughter echoed from outside the hall. “If that’s the case, I’ll take charge of the east gate.”

As the words were said, Wan Dongliu strode in and cupped his hand toward Tang Buqi. “The Cao Gang has come to help. We don’t have many men, but we should be able to handle the east gate.”

Tang Buqi was overjoyed. “Brother Wan, your righteousness is commendable!”

Someone sneered, “When did we start allowing gangsters to speak in a coalition of noble families?”

Wan Dongliu laughed and did not bother responding to him.

At that moment, a middle-aged man also strode in, smiling as he said, “In that case, leave the west gate to us. Our saint says that the celebration is to be had at the west gate[1], and he would like us to take it.”

The hall buzzed with whispers.

It was Xue Canghai from the Blood God Cult!

This was even harder to accept than the Cao Gang. It was one thing for a gang from the jianghu to lend a hand, but since when could a demonic cult openly appear in such a setting?

Tang Buqi’s face twitched, unsure whether to feel joy or anger.

He had more information than most. He knew that Zhao Changhe had taken over the Blood God Cult and used them to secure Xiangyang. Xue Canghai’s presence meant that Zhao Changhe had likely settled things on his end, which also meant that his aunt was on the way or had already arrived. But how could he be happy with the thought of having to call Zhao Changhe uncle for real?

He hesitated to speak, which led others to misunderstand. Someone slammed their hands on the table and pointed at Xue Canghai. “This is a campaign of noble families to eliminate an evil cult. Since when did the Blood God Cult have a say in this? You’re a demonic cult that should be purged! Who let them in? Send them out!”

Xue Canghai’s gaze turned icy as he glared at the man, his smile thin and insincere. “Noble families? And where exactly is that nobility? All I see is a pack of dogs fighting over scraps. No... Even wild dogs have some spirit when they fight for food, but what about you lot?”

“Oh... Is this Cult Leader Xue who got humiliated by someone below his level? You—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Xue Canghai, enraged, flashed forward and grabbed the man by the throat, nearly snapping it with just his tight grip.

He had suppressed the anger within him for so long, and this pent-up anger was so intense that even Zhao Changhe did not dare to bring up this sore spot in his face.

“Yes, I was challenged and defeated by someone with lower cultivation... but unfortunately, that wasn’t you,” Xue Canghai said coldly. “You don’t want to associate with our demonic cult? Then either leave on your own or let me kill you and throw you out like the garbage you are.”

The man desperately looked to Tang Buqi for help. “Young Master Tang...”

Tang Buqi sighed and could only cup his hands in respect. “Cult Leader Xue, please spare him...”

His words implied that he was not telling the demonic cult to leave; instead, he was asking Xue Canghai to be considerate. Some others could not bear this any longer and stood up angrily. “If Young Master Tang favors the demonic cult, then we will take our leave. You can have this demonic cult fight Maitreya with you if you so wish.”

Another voice came from outside, “You can leave if you want.”

Everyone turned to see a tall young man stride in with a commanding presence and a scar on his face.

Everyone’s hearts skipped a beat as a name surfaced in their minds.

Blood Asura, Zhao Changhe!

Despite his youth, his fearsome reputation surpassed even that of Xue Canghai. Suddenly, the room fell silent.

Even though he was of such a young age, not only was he a master on the Ranking of Man, but he also had another identity circulating in secret that left many aristocrats guessing.

Tang Wanzhuang has almost openly shown her support for him...

If he’s standing up for this demonic cult and the Cao Gang, does that represent the imperial court’s intentions? Or is that his own idea?

As people mulled over this, Zhao Changhe looked around the room and smiled, baring his teeth. “I’ve invited heroes from all over to hunt in Wu, and I apologize for my late arrival. However, none of you are included among those heroes. You may leave.”

Someone slowly responded, “Young Master Zhao, do you realize what you’re saying? Have you thought this through?”

“A true man does not associate with vermin,” Zhao Changhe said calmly. “As for whatever you might be keeping in those tiny brains of yours, I’m sorry, but I don’t care.”

Sensing something, people turned to see Cui Wenjing and Yang Jingxiu quietly standing at the entrance of the hall, their hands behind their backs, as if they did not even have the interest to step inside and join the conversation.

If a hunt was to be held in Wu, who were the prey?

Besides Maitreya... they were too.

1. The raws here are “西门有庆,” which literally translates to what I placed here. However, I feel like Zhao Changhe said the words in reference to Ximen Qing (西门庆), the main character of Jin Ping Mei, also known as The Plum in the Golden Vase or The Golden Lotus, and a minor character in Water Margin. ☜


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