Chapter 432 The Strategist

There had been precedents of the central gate of Zhenbei City being opened—but they were few and far between.

The last time it had happened was in the 36th year of the Tianjing Era, during the third year of the Seventh Calamity. That year, the northern beast hordes went berserk and attempted to storm Zhenbei City in a bid to march south into the heart of the Xuanhuang Continent.

It took the combined effort of over thirty Sword Gods to slay the blood relative of the Beast Emperor Tianzeng. Only then did Tianheng, a peerless sword cultivator, return in triumph—prompting Zhenbei City to ceremonially open its central gate in honor of his feat.

Chen Fei didn’t know much about the history of Zhenbei City, but its residents certainly did. Especially in the unseasonal cold of the Muhan Solstice, the sight was even more striking.

Inside the city:

The Western Stronghold was the first to receive the news. With eyes and ears scattered throughout the city, they were always the most well-informed.

Zhai Master Gu Chen frowned slightly when he heard the report.

“You’re saying the Zhenbei Military opened the central gate to welcome two cultivators, a man and a woman? What’s their cultivation like?”

The scout hesitated. “We were too far to get a clear look, but the male cultivator didn’t flinch under the Zhenbei Army’s aura—so his strength is likely considerable.”

Gu Chen narrowed his eyes. Seeing his subordinate hesitate again, he coldly snorted, “If there’s more, speak.”

“They entered the city alongside some of our own men from the Western Stronghold’s outpost. Perhaps they know something.”

Gu Chen nodded. “Bring them to me as soon as they return.”

“Yes, sir!” The scout hurried off.

—

Over at Mo Wen Hall, Hall Master Chen Jinze—a dignified man with a commanding voice—reacted in much the same way.

“The central gate? How many years has it been since that happened? Incredible… truly incredible!”

He glanced at the subordinate who brought the news. “Keep a close watch on this person. Report back the moment you learn anything.”

“Yes, Hall Master!”

—

The Liuli Sect also caught wind of the news, though its sect master Yu Qiushui merely nodded and said nothing. Her silence left the rest of the sect confused, unsure how to proceed. In the end, they chose not to act for now.

At the city gate:

Chen Fei stood before the towering gates as they slowly opened. Inside, rows of armored soldiers stood in perfect formation.

This was the Zhenbei Army’s ceremonial welcome.

Though their rituals were plain and direct—military through and through—they exuded a commanding presence.

A high-ranking officer stepped forward, lifted a long sword, and pointed it forward with force.

“The Zhenbei central gate opens—Victory is certain!”

“Victory is certain!”

“Victory is certain!”

Three thunderous shouts echoed outward from within the city walls. The energy of it rolled across the gate like a tidal wave.

Even those unfamiliar with Zhenbei customs could sense that something big was happening. Old men with gray hair raised their heads, staring wide-eyed in the direction of the gate.

Even Ji Wugou, raised in the powerful Ji Clan, was stunned by the scene before her. Her jaw dropped slightly at the spectacle.

Chen Fei frowned.

This wasn’t good.

A central gate welcome was for honored guests. Yet he had no official status that warranted such treatment.

More than anything, this display blew his cover—so much for quietly recovering in Zhenbei.

Now he was being paraded openly. There was no backing out anymore.

“Fellow Daoist Chen, please,” Xu Zhenping stepped forward with a serious expression.

Chen Fei glanced down at the long sword at Xu’s waist.

Xu Zhenping met his gaze, silent.

Chen Fei chuckled. “Who would’ve thought the Zhenbei Army had such a grand welcome ceremony. Alright then, Commander Xu, lead the way.”

Xu straightened his back, one hand on the hilt of his sword, and began marching into the city with proud steps.

Soldiers on both sides stood tall and still, eyes locked on Chen Fei as he passed through.

It was not an easy walk—especially for Ji Wugou. Without internal energy to protect her, just stepping inside the city gate made her face go pale from the lingering cold.

Chen Fei silently stepped beside her and placed a hand on her arm. In an instant, her condition improved.

Ji Wugou glanced up at him. Though he spoke harshly and had a bad temper, at least he had enough decency not to let her suffer embarrassment in public.

Chen Fei, however, was filled with questions.

He had no connection to the Zhenbei Army. If they meant to trap him, they wouldn’t have gone to this length.

So… what was the real purpose behind all this?

Xu Zhenping led them through the military compound.

It was clean, orderly, and clearly designed with precision—each building placed with clear intention.

Chen Fei had never been inside such a military base. The garrisons of Yellow Mist City didn’t compare in the slightest, having always been loose and undisciplined.

Military men were difficult to manage, but the Zhenbei Army was clearly an exception.

“Fellow Daoist Chen, the strategist is inside. I’ll take my leave now,” Xu said, then cupped his fists and left without another word.

Chen Fei looked at the building ahead, puzzled, then stepped inside.

He wanted to know just what cards this so-called strategist was hiding.

Though his internal energy was severely depleted, he was still confident that, if pushed, he could explode with power comparable to the Dao Realm. Even in the Zhenbei Army’s stronghold, he could come and go as he pleased.

Power was the true foundation of confidence.

—

Pushing open the door, Chen Fei was greeted by a faint, pleasant fragrance.

At the far end of the room, a thin old man in long robes sat calmly. His hair and beard were white, and his aura restrained. Despite his age, there wasn’t a trace of internal energy emanating from him.

When he saw Chen Fei enter, he smiled faintly. “You’ve come.”

“You know me?” Chen Fei asked bluntly.

“Yes… and no,” the strategist replied with a chuckle.

Chen Fei raised a brow. “Then what’s this whole charade for?”

A direct question—but bordering on impolite.

Yet the strategist only smiled and gestured toward the seat across from him. “A guest is a guest. Would you like some tea, Fellow Daoist Chen?”

Chen Fei was curious enough to play along. He sat across from him and picked up the teacup.

The temperature was perfect—not too hot, not too cold. It was just right for drinking.

The precision of it all made Chen Fei glance at him again in surprise. Everything had clearly been prepared in advance.

He set the cup down. “Excellent tea. Sweet, with a lingering aftertaste. A rare and refined brew.”

“I’m glad you like it,” the strategist smiled, stroking his beard as he poured another cup. “I am Ma Shuo, the strategist of the Zhenbei Army.”

“Strategist Ma… I still don’t understand,” Chen Fei said with a frown.

Ma Shuo replied, “There are some things others will explain to you later. For now, I only wanted to meet you. And I must say—you truly live up to the rumors. I’ve already arranged accommodations for you. If you need anything, just inform Commander Xu.”

Chen Fei’s eyes narrowed. “Strategist Ma… are you planning to detain me?”