Death Scripture 252 Counselor

Fang Wenshi had not expected that he would be so poverty-stricken. The first thing that he thought of when he opened his eyes every morning was about how he could use a few grains of rice to feed his hunger. He had once been respected by many of his neighbors because he was a man of poetry, was well versed in many books, and can hold conversations about philosophical matters. Even the local wealthy man had wanted him to marry his daughter. However, he had rejected the offer. A real man's aspirations should be endless- why should he be afraid about not having a wife? When he had traveled around the country for four or five years and had returned to his hometown without any success, he had been greeted by the same rich man. He rejoiced in secret for several days.

Today's Fang Wenshi was like an invisible person in the village. The once familiar neighbors had either pretended to be blind or had been hiding away from him because they were afraid that he would ask them to borrow money. As if his bad luck hadn't already peaked, he had been blocked by two strangers in the yard today.

At that time, Fang Wenshi had been at his older brother's house next door. He had used his silver tongue; he begged, intimidated, and induced. One would have had heard sublime words with deep meanings, as well as knowledge of Astronomy and Geography. He had used whatever techniques he had thought of and the Devil of Hell would had been moved. However, his sister-in-law had not even blinked a wink, and had kept on feeding the chicken in the yard as usual. Not even a grain of rice had been allowed to be "borrowed." To her, her brother-in-law's voice was no different than the noises that were made by cicadas.

With a parched mouth and a starving heart, Fang Wenshi thought that he was not needed and that there was no need to return. Suddenly, two unfamiliar fellows pushed open the door and entered without permission. They had apparently heard reliable information and, upon seeing the scholar in rags, they asked, "Are you called Fang Wenshi?"

The big fellows were wearing travel-stained felt clothing. Their faces were rough and their tone was blunt. They looked like the kidnappers who had kidnapped him a few years ago. Fang Wenshi had an ominous feeling and he hurriedly shook his head.

The reaction of his sister-in-law, who had not spoken the whole time, was surprisingly quick. She said preemptively, "It is him."

The black cloth bag descended from the sky. Fang Wenshi had a mind of prowess, but not a single ounce of strength to parry against the rough rugged men. His head was covered and there was darkness before him. Then, he was lifted up to be carried away. This was start of the last part of his unfortunate life.

Fang Wenshi's sister-in-law breathed a long sigh of relief as if she had recovered from many years of a stubborn illness. However, it had occured to her that her husband might ask her about this in the future. Hence, after waiting for the big fellows to leave for some time, she shouted in tears, "kidnappers!"

The neighbors left their homes and watched. They only had time to see the dust raised by the horses. They wondered in their hearts, 'Who would be so blind as to kidnap a poor man? Besides, why kidnap him? Just ask for help, and the villagers would happily tie the scholar up and send him to you. If someone will provide food, then Fang Wenshi himself would probably be willing to go.'

The two big fellows carried Fang Wenshi and moved forward without stopping. They had rested for only a short time each day. On the first day, Fang Wenshi felt that the bones of his body had been torn apart. When a big fellow had taken out some rations, he had still grabbed it and gobbled it up, without even asking where they were going.

The big fellow was shocked and had thought that this scholar must have had been a bit of a doormat.

Fang Wenshi had guessed that they were going westward. However, it had been strange that the big fellows had not chosen the safest and most unobstructed path- the Tianshan South Road, which passed through Jade City and was protected by Golden Roc Fort. Instead, they had taken the wilderness north of the mountains, where sometimes there were no roads.

After filling his stomach, Fang Wenshi began to worry about his safety. He politely asked the two "pals" for some answers but the reply he received was to be gagged with rags. The two big fellows did not speak much to each other. There were only the monotonous sounds of horse hooves that went on nonstop, day and night, which even lingered in their dreams.

After more than half a month, the journey was finally over. The cloth bag on his head was removed and the rags in his mouth were taken out. Fang Wenshi felt that he was still floating on a turbulent horse. His feet had felt like they had stepped into a heap of cotton flowers. As soon as the big fellow had let go of him, he fell to the ground and laid there for half a day.

This was a large tent with not much illumination. It had simple decorations and felt rugs that were laid out. There were a dozen rough men sitting or standing on either side, each with short or long heavy swords hanging by their sides. Fang Wenshi had a feeling that the status of these people was proportional to the size of their swords.

However, his first impression soon fell apart. A young man was sitting cross-legged on the inside of the shortest couch. From his point of view, he should had been the leader; but the sword by his side was the shortest.

The young man's face was pale, and he seemed to have an illness. The face should have had been handsome, but it was covered by a gloomy expression.

There was a guard standing on both the left and right sides of the low couch. On the left was a very handsome teenager. Fang Wenshi couldn't help but glance at him a second time. On the right of the couch was a teenage girl.

Fang Wenshi swallowed some saliva and said the words that he had longed prepared in his heart, "Your majesty, please spare my life. This lowly little scholar has no money and no potential. The two big brothers must've grabbed the wrong person."

The young man in the low couch spoke up. His voice was cold and slightly lazy, but there was a kind of dignity that felt murderous so Fang Wenshi completely believed that he was the "king".

"Fang Wenshi, don't you recognize me?"

Fang Wenshi lifted his head and thoroughly looked at him for a while. His mind quickly churned. He hoped that he could think of something. Then his eyes lit up. "It's you, eh, why didn't you say so sooner? Has brother been well? Is your family well?"

The young man waited for him to finish. "Four years ago, at Iron Mountain Camp, does Mr. Fang still remember the man who had given you the horse?"

With this reminder, Fang Wenshi finally recognized the young man in front of him, but he still couldn't remember this person's name. "It's you! You...how...aren't you...where is this place?"

"This is the mountain pass of the Great Snow Mountain. My name is Yang Huan, and I am no longer a killer from Golden Roc Fort."

The Great Snowmountain! Fang Wenshi was shocked. This was at least thousands of miles away from his hometown; he was actually captured man around and brought to this hellhole. There was no need to ask, the ferocious men around him must be the legendary swordsmen from the Great Snowmountain.

From the secluded countryside, news of the swordsmen rushing out of the Great Snowmountain against the border of Shu-lik country had not yet reached the ears of Fang Wenshi, but he vaguely had an impression of the name "Yang Huan". He remembered that this person had defected from Golden Roc Fort a few years ago. If he didn't remember, then he would never have associated this person with the killer apprentice that he had met several years ago.

"Brother Yang." Fang Wenshi spoke out but then changed his mind. "Lord Yang ..."

A one-eyed man corrected him coldly, "The Chief of the Dragons, the Leader of Five Peaks."

Fang Wenshi was startled. This name was too long so it was a little hard for him to spell out. The one-eyed man gave him an abbreviation: "Dragon King".

"Your majesty, the Dragon King." Fang Wenshi saluted respectfully and bowed. He felt that the young man and the killer apprentice he had met were not the same person.

"Not 'Your Majesty', just the 'Dragon King'." The one-eyed man was tirelessly teaching the scholar who seemed to not understand anything.

"Dragon King." Fang Wenshi felt that the title was very strange but his mind had calmed down and could cover up his true emotions well. "This lowly one receives your summons. What are your orders?"

"Mr. Fang must have still remembered the promise that we had made back then. Now I have 5,000 people and I'm looking for your counsel." Gu Shenwei did not like the title of "Dragon King," but this title was conferred by the Chief of the Five Peaks several days ago. He could only accept it.

Fang Wenshi was of course, unable to remember even a word from back then. However, it was after all, a good thing to have had someone seeking counsel from him. This was perhaps the turning point which he had waited 20 years for. "Oh, of course, of course. 5,000 men, not bad, not bad."

Gu Shenwei understood Fang Wenshi was also just a man. "Mr. Fang must be fatigued from the journey and may wish to retire. Let's continue our talk tomorrow."

Although there were not many kinds of dishes at the banquet, it was very lavish; if it weren't big chunks of meat, then it was cooled milk and wine. Fang Wenshi was eating the heartiest meal he ever had for the past few years. He carefully observed the young "Dragon King" and his savage swordsmen until his belly bulged high and could no longer fit in any more food.

For one to want Fang Wenshi's counsel, he must have a strong foundation. Fang Wenshi would not willing to become the military counselor to a group of rabble.

The result of Fang Wenshi's observation was not very optimistic. The swordsmen were silent and were powerful indeed. However, they were very guarded against each other. They always had one hand grabbing the meat, and the other hand was placed not far from their heavy swords.

Dragon King Yang Huan was served by two teenagers. Each dish was tested by one of them every time .

There was no established set of rules here. The swordsmen entering and leaving did not need to give any notification; they simply lifted the curtains as they made their way out. There were no obligatory rites of bowing or bending the knee to the Dragon King, just a simple nod was acceptable.

However, Fang Wenshi felt very clearly that everyone was afraid of the young Dragon King, and that this fear came from the bottom of their hearts. No one except for the two servants had dared to approach him too closely.

After the meal, when Fang Wenshi was going to his designated tent, what he saw and heard in the camp confused him even more.

There were a lot of swordsmen coming and going, but there were definitely not 5,000 people. A large part of them were teenagers or children and old people who were between 50 to 60 years old. They were also divided into groups with their own leaders in each individual tents. The tense atmosphere was very obvious.

Only fear, which was stronger than hatred, can subdue these people.

Fang Wenshi was very disappointed with the swordsmen of the Great Snowmountain. He grew increasingly curious about the young Dragon King.

What kind of ability does that young man have to quell all these wild animalistic swordsmen, such that all of them had bowed their heads to call him "king"?

That night, Fang Wenshi had an upset stomach. He tossed and turned and could not sleep well. So he simply got up, paced back and forth, went to the toilet several times, and reorganized the knowledge in his head- knowledge that he would never use. Just when he had become a little hungry, an idea formed in his heart.

The next day, the Dragon King did not summon him. Fang Wenshi just walked around the camp and chatted with swordsmen everywhere. He learned a lot of useful information.

Although the swordsmen were rough, the different tribes were roughly similar in their ways. They were very welcoming to the guest. They answered his questions and never lied. Thus, Fang Wenshi gained some confidence.

On the third night, the Dragon King summoned the counselor alone; aside from these two, there were also the two teenage servants in the tent.

Fang Wenshi was well-informed and did not beat around the bush. At the moment when they met, he immediately asked, "Dragon King, please tell me the truth. If you were truly an enemy of Golden Roc Fort: would you want to take revenge, or would you want to be the Overlord of the Western Region?"

"What's the difference?"

"Revenge is a private matter. Not everyone in the Western Region is like the Great Snowmountain's swordsmen. Not everyone has such deep-seated hatred towards Golden Roc Fort. You have formed an alliance here easily. There are also people outside this mountain who will be willing to risk their lives for you. But if all you want is revenge? If that is so, then I don't want to. On the other hand, the struggle for the Overlord of the Western Region is a fight for kingship. It carries great risks, but also huge benefits. The participants fight for the name, power, and wealth. The people in the world will all be raring to partake in a portion of this victory. So, ah, if it's revenge that you want, I won't be able to help you. It would be better to let me go back to farming. However, ah, if it's hegemony, I'll be willing to give you some pointers."

Gu Shenwei had not expected that Fang Wenshi would have said such a thing. He bowed his head for a moment. "There is still killing involved in the fight for hegemony, isn't there?"

"You can kill countless people."

"I want to be the Overlord of the Western Region."

Chapter end