Chapter 135: Tang Clan's Paper Flower

Qing hurriedly grabbed the blanket and shook it out.

Fwip! Along with the sound of the fabric rustling with internal energy, came the clatter-clatter-clatter of wooden fragments striking each other.

“Cannons! Heaven-Shaking Thunder!”

“Huh?”

“Hey!! Danger!!”

Tang Nanah launched herself at Qing like she was diving into water. The two got tangled up, rolling off the bed and tumbling to the floor in a heap. Crash!

And then—BOOM!!

An ear-splitting explosion erupted, accompanied by a cacophony of shattering, tearing, and embedding sounds all at once. Her ears went numb, ringing faintly.

As a pretty girl who had completed her military service, the massive roar of gunpowder snapped Qing’s mind to attention.

Bombardment!? This is artillery fire, isn't it!?

“Seriously, since when does the martial arts world have delayed fuses!?”

Unfortunately, these were the people of Zhonghua, who embraced burning as their national spirit, reducing history and ancestors to charcoal lumps. They were the Red people who, claiming parents were the evils of the old era, saw sons and daughters take the lead in beating them to death, cackling as they carried out ruthless sacrifices for the greater good!

So, was it really possible that the Chinese, the inventors of gunpowder—the ultimate fuel for burning—and pioneers of firearms, hadn't even conceived of the simple idea of firing explosives from afar?

Furthermore, the Imperial Family had been grinding its teeth, vowing to wipe out martial artists, and the culture of Cannon Masters being worked to the bone through sleepless nights had already persisted for over a century.

“We need to get out of here, now.”

Knowing about artillery fire was one thing; being hit by it was another.

Thoroughly spooked, Qing was about to make a run for it when Tang Nanah quickly snatched her wrist.

“Clothes! Get dressed first!”

“We’re about to get blown up by cannonballs, who cares about clothes?”

“Hurry!!”

And so, as the ground continuously rumbled—thump, thump—and the Sound of Cannons vibrated near and far, the two women scrambled around, somehow managing to pull on their clothes.

Crack! Another cannonball smashed through the wall. They dove flat onto the floor—BOOM!—as if the whole world was shaking and crumbling—Crumble!

Screeeech.

Suddenly, all the wooden structures warped simultaneously, emitting an incredibly ominous sound.

“What are you doing? It’s collapsing! We have to go, quickly.”

“Poisons! I need to grab my poisons!”

Tang Nanah frantically opened this drawer and that, sweeping the contents into her robes, stuffing them into the Thigh Pouch on her leg, and shoving them into the Arm Guard on her forearm, busily arming herself.

Snap! A cracking sound sent a chill down Qing’s spine. She immediately grabbed Tang Nanah by the waist, tucked her under her arm, and charged towards the door.

It was just a frame with paper stretched over it; a structure easily breakable by a martial artist.

“Ack!”

However, since Qing was carrying Tang Nanah at her side, the ‘luggage’s’ head hit the door first.

Tang Nanah’s head smashed through the door as if it were a battering ram, getting stuck momentarily.

Once outside, Qing set her down. Tang Nanah, wearing the Traditional Paper Door/Window frame around her neck like a cangue, glared daggers at Qing.

“Ah, my bad.”

“Tch, whatever!”

Tang Nanah ripped off the door frame she was wearing and threw it aside.

Chaos reigned everywhere.

The smell of burning filled the air.

Smoke billowed, blacker against the night sky, while flames shot up from the ground.

The whoosh-whoosh of things cutting through the air, the impact of cannonballs near and far, and the crash-bang of roofs and walls being utterly demolished were clearly audible.

And then, a desperate cry.

“Child! No! Child!”

“Grandpa! I’m over here!”

Choi Leeong, who had been digging through the rubble of a collapsed Annex, rushed over, feeling Qing’s arms and legs. Confirming she was unharmed, he let out a visible sigh of relief and draped a Veil over her head.

“What do we do now!?”

“The basement! There’s an Underground Passage!! This way!! Step only where I step and follow me!”

Tang Nanah unleashed her Lightness Skill and dashed into the ruined interior of the Tang Center.

Qing followed close behind, leaping over the shattered main gate, navigating narrow alleys, circling burning buildings, and weaving deeper inside.

When they reached the vicinity of a pond behind a certain building, Tang Nanah tapped the ground, got down low, and somehow managed to lift open a section of the floor.

“This way, hurry.”

With that, Tang Nanah grabbed a ladder affixed to the wall and nimbly climbed down.

Shouldn't she close the lid? The thought occurred to Qing, but if the daughter of the house said so…

As Qing descended the ladder, about halfway down, she heard the lid slam shut with a thud.

Thump… Thump… Underground, the Bombardment sounded like the long-reverberating beat of a giant drum. With each beat, dust rained down, pat-pat-patting against the brim of the Veil covering Qing’s head. Tang Nanah, bareheaded, just irritably shook the settling dust from her hair.

After navigating the Underground Passage, they emerged into a wide Underground Space, large enough to hold a couple of buildings.

“Grandfather!”

“Ah-ah! Ximen-ah! You’re safe too! Thank goodness!”

Surprisingly, the atmosphere in the Underground Space was calm. It was somber but not sorrowful; shocked, perhaps, but not fearful.

At the center, gathered around a large table, stood the elite Tang Clan experts whose faces Qing recognized. As Qing approached, she saw a familiar face. A pale-skinned, gentle-looking scholar type who looked like he belonged with a book.

“What, Jayu? Didn’t you run away, friend?”

“Insolence! How dare you speak so freely, and in whose presence! Kneel at once and show respect!”

A small woman holding a Spear Shaft bellowed the rebuke in a resonant voice.

Qing blinked.

“Huh? Why? Whose presence?”

“His Highness, Grand Prince Dexian, Master of Sichuan, graces us with his presence! How dare a mere martial artist hold her head high and act so presumptuously!”

“Huh? Grand Prince?”

“Ah! Incompetent! Ah! This lowly girl has committed a crime worthy of death!!! Please forgive my previous disrespect!!”

A scream-like cry erupted next to Qing. Turning her head, she saw Tang Nanah’s back, already prostrated flat on the ground in a rigid posture. She hadn't had time to tie her hair up in her haste, and she had slammed her head down so forcefully that her hair spread out flat behind her like an ink brush pressed onto paper.

Qing looked down at the sight with half-lidded eyes.

This girl, just like last time… Doesn’t she drop to her knees a little too easily?

Anyway, while Tang Nanah remained glued to the ground like a stone statue, Qing looked at Jayu.

“Uh. Um. You were a Grand Prince?”

Jayu just shrugged with an embarrassed expression.

In Chinese chess, why are the cannons typically positioned in or near the palace? Because they are crucial pieces.

By extension, the Fire Soldiers of the Imperial Guard were the elite of the elite, carefully selected from the finest among the Imperial Guardsmen. They were not only personally robust but also loyal retainers whose allegiance had been verified, and intelligent men proficient in the Mathematics/Calculations required for accurate Bombardment.

Therefore, the defense of an Artillery Battery was unlike that of ordinary soldiers; a dedicated Cannon Guard Unit, trained in martial arts, was stationed alongside them for protection. In martial artist terms, they were at the level of proficiently wielding standard military weapons, near the peak of the Second-Rate realm. Forming a Military Formation and executing strategy made them difficult opponents even for martial artists.

However, among the Nine Great Sects, One Union and Ten Great Families, there was one power with a peculiar strength. While considered inadequate against true experts, their infamy was widespread when dealing with lesser opponents.

“Hey, do you smell something? What is that? Sweet?”

“Peaches! Smells like peaches.”

The sweet scent of peaches mingled with the cold night air.

“Peaches? It’s certainly peach season. But who’d be eating peaches this late at ni—hack, cough.”

The soldier, suddenly coughing up phlegm, then wiped under his itchy nose.

“What? Blood? Uh…”

Instantly, the soldier staggered and collapsed.

“Squad Leader? What’s wrong?”

“Strange, I just feel tired. What’s happening?”

Next, something flowed from his eyes too—bright red blood trickling down his tear troughs.

“Squad Leader, blood, there’s blood! Ke-hek, cough, cough!”

The soldier fussing over him got choked up and started dry coughing, then suddenly vomited violently.

“Uh…?”

Just then, something the size of a child’s head flew in from afar, landed between them with a thud, and rolled.

“Dammit! Keuk, Ack. Poison bombs! Everyone swallow Antidote Powder and cover your mouths with Detoxification Masks!”

BOOM!! Unfortunately, it wasn’t a poison bomb, but a Fire Bomb.

Shattered Iron Fragments tore through the flesh and bone of the two men. When eyelids fluttered open again, their forms were gone, reduced to mere debris scattered upon the earth.

Gradually, the Sound of Cannons subsided, and soon, the deafening explosions that had torn through the night ceased completely.

In the command post, the Imperial Censor raged.

“What is this! Who gave the order to cease firing! Keep shooting! Reduce it all to ashes…!”

“Urgent report, sir! First Artillery Battery has been wiped out.”

Just then, another messenger burst into the command post, cutting him off.

“Sir, it’s terrible! Second Artillery Battery has been annihilated!”

The Imperial Censor ground his teeth.

“Impossible! What were the Cannon Guard Units doing!”

“Fire Bombs! The Tang Clan bastards are using Fire Bombs, sir!”

Fire Bombs were powerful even when used by soldiers untrained in serious martial arts. All you had to do was light them and throw them far. But they were even more devastating in the hands of experts.

Especially experts in various Throwing Techniques, like the martial artists of the Tang Clan. A Fire Bomb thrown with the subtleties of hidden weapon arts was akin to a human cannon, capable of long-range precision strikes without needing a Cannon Barrel or Gunpowder Charge.

“How can a mere civilian family possess Fire Bombs! How dare they! These traitors!”

The Imperial Censor breathed heavily in fury, losing his temper. Gunpowder manufacturing was strictly forbidden by National Law; violating it truly marked one as a Traitor, guilty of Treason.

While the Imperial Censor stomped his feet, unable to contain his boiling anger, another message arrived, reporting the destruction of the Third Artillery Battery.

“No! The soldiers bestowed by The Emperor!”

Only then did the Imperial Censor take a long, deep breath and exhale slowly.

“No, no. Right. The traitors have finally shown their true colors. This is actually for the best. With this, I can mobilize the Province’s troops…”

The Imperial Censor decided to think positively. Losing all the Artillery Batteries was painful, but thanks to that, hadn't he discovered the fact that the Tang Clan was secretly manufacturing Fire Bombs? Of course, the Imperial Censor knew that illegal Fire Bombs circulated among civilians, but whether they bought them or made them, it was grounds to push the charge of Treason.

No matter if they were one of the Five Great Families or possessed peerless experts, how long could they last against hundreds of thousands of Imperial Guards? With the evidence now clear, even the martial arts world wouldn't dare interfere with the Imperial Family's actions.

Yes, hundreds of thousands. Hundreds of thousands.

A single Military Unit Designation comprised roughly six thousand soldiers, and there were already several such units in one administrative Province. If mobilized for war through conscription, nearly thirty thousand troops could be gathered from Sichuan Province alone. Adding troops from nearby Hubei, Shaanxi, and Guizhou Provinces would easily bring the number of mobilized Imperial Guards well over one hundred thousand.

The Imperial Censor was the head of the Imperial Family's Office of the Censorate, the Censorate itself. He possessed the immense authority to mobilize the Regional Military Commander of an entire Province. Once he had justification, he was a very, very important person holding command over a large army.

It was then.

Another messenger burst through the tent flap as if tearing it, his feet scrambling urgently on the ground.

“Sir, disaster!”

The Imperial Censor snorted dismissively and replied.

“Yes, yes. The Fourth Artillery Battery was destroyed, you say?”

Losing the artillery hurt, but a mere two hundred cannons and eight hundred gunners were like a pinch of sand compared to the entire Imperial Army. If he gained justification by sacrificing a bit of sand, wasn't that something to welcome?

“That’s not it, sir! The Grand Prince's Flag, the Grand Prince's Flag has been raised! Those bastards have raised the Grand Prince's Flag!”

At that, the Imperial Censor’s expression crumpled completely.