116 July’s Falling Fire

In the scorching heat of July, the dazzling sun hung in the sky, reminding Luan Yi of the thermal power plants from his previous life. The intense glare baked the earth, and the very moisture in the air seemed to evaporate, veiling the land in a shimmering, illusory haze.

For over half a month, there had been no rain. The vegetation across the plains and mountains, deprived of water, wilted in despair, and the parched earth began to crack. This year, Qingzhou was once again enduring a year of disaster, with severe drought spreading everywhere.

Reports from the Jinan Kingdom suggested that the situation there was much the same. Fortunately, however, the underground aquifers throughout Jinan were abundant, and the springs never dried up, even in times of drought. Coupled with the Ji, Luo, Yellow, and Xiaoqing rivers flowing through the region, the impact of the drought was greatly mitigated, and agricultural production remained normal.

The blistering sun beat down on Luan Yi’s armor, heating the black-iron, silver-bright plate until it was scorching to the touch. Luan Yi had once experimented: placing a raw egg on the armor under such a sun would cook it instantly.

One could only imagine the torture of wearing such armor in this weather. It was no longer a shield for vital organs, but a copper furnace that steamed the person inside. Even without moving, sweat flowed incessantly, soaking his undergarments through. The sweat would then be baked dry by the heat of the armor, only for more to emerge, over and over again. It forced one to drink vast amounts of water, yet prevented even a single drop of urine from being passed all day.

Since entering Qingzhou, the Church’s army had not fared well.

It proved the old saying: "Desolate lands produce hardy folk." While helping Kong Rong lift the siege of Beihai, the Church’s army of over 10,000 had engaged in a fierce battle against 20,000 rebels outside the city walls. The fighting was incredibly brutal, and at a critical moment, the Confucian scholar Kong Rong, lacking military expertise, interfered recklessly, causing chaos in the Church’s formations. In the end, it was only through the desperate fighting of the Church guards and the bravery and wisdom of the commanders that victory was secured.

But it was a pyrrhic victory. Nearly a third of the Church’s forces were lost, and over 3,000 loyal followers of the Mother Goddess, who had been brought from the Jinan Kingdom, would never see the clouds of their homeland again.

Faced with severe attrition, Luan Yi had no choice but to integrate 5,000 captives into his battalions. Unfortunately, these new recruits were far inferior to the Church guards in both discipline and faith; they would require significant indoctrination before they could truly become soldiers of the Church.

After saving Beihai, Luan Yi borrowed a substantial amount of grain from Kong Rong. It was the instinct of a merchant; one must never conduct a losing business.

Kong Rong was naturally willing to provide the grain. Although he lacked military sense, he realized his mistakes during that day's battle had implicated Luan Yi. Furthermore, the two had long exchanged letters as pen pals, and Kong Rong was an admirer of Luan Yi’s poetry and fiction; there was a mutual respect between the two men of letters. Thus, without batting an eye, Kong Rong doubled the amount of grain Luan Yi had requested.

Leaving Beihai, Luan Yi set his sights on Linzi. This was the seat of the Qingzhou prefecture and the stronghold of the rebels.

One had to admit that the rebel commander Niu Ang had some strategic insight. Having heard that the Church’s army was invincible and formidable, he decided not to meet them head-on, instead adopting a scorched-earth policy. Using the occupied counties as bases, he built camps outside the city walls, supporting each other like the horns of a bull. If the Church’s army attacked one, the others would reinforce it; if they attacked another, the first would strike at their rear.

Faced with such fortified positions, Luan Yi paced restlessly, feeling like a tiger that had caught a hedgehog and found no place to bite.

In desperation, Luan Yi summoned his generals to discuss a counter-strategy.

Xu Shu suggested, "Since Linzi is difficult to take, why not bypass it for now? Let us take Changyi, Dongying, and Langya. Once the entire territory of Qingzhou is in our hands, the rebels will be isolated and without aid. When we return to strike, victory will be easy."

Luan Yi laughed and slapped his forehead, sighing at his own lack of strategic foresight. He had been too focused on the single prefecture of Linzi and had failed to view the problem from a different angle. By using a "leapfrog" strategy—taking other key points first to cut off the rebels' food supply—he could wait until the enemy’s morale collapsed from hunger before launching his final assault. "Yuanzhi, you are my Zhang Liang!"

He followed this advice, ordering Huang Zhong as the main commander and Xu Chu as his deputy to attack Changyi; Xu Shu was made commander, with Zhang Fei and Zhao Yun as deputies, to manage the campaign for Dongying. As for himself, he led the main army with Dian Wei to strike directly at Langya.

With the help of local defenders, the Mother Goddess self-defense corps, and the local faithful, all three columns advanced like a hot knife through butter.

On the fifth day of the seventh month, the army under Huang Zhong and Xu Chu reached the gates of Changyi. That night, undercover followers hidden in the city, led by a servant of the divine, quietly retrieved the wooden cross emblems they had buried in their courtyards and wore them on their chests. Under the cover of moonlight, they gathered at the burned-out ruins of the church, and at a signal, they suddenly lit torches and marched toward the city gates.

That night, Changyi was ablaze with light.

Sensing the commotion, Huang Zhong immediately roused his troops and launched a night attack. Working with the believers inside, they seized the gates within an hour and cleared the city of rebels before dawn. Changyi was secured.

The main force led by Luan Yi reached Langya. At that time, the commandery had not yet fallen to the enemy, though small bands of rebels hid in the mountains, masquerading as bandits to raid villages. The local forces were too few to pursue them into the mountains, leaving them to suffer passively. Many villages had been slaughtered, losing both their wealth and grain.

Now, with the arrival of the main army, the bandit menace could be curtailed.

However, reality was far harsher than the ideal. Though the number of rebels was small, the terrain was complex, and the endless mountain ranges made them hard to find.

To counter this, Luan Yi decided to abandon direct pursuit in favor of a lure. He ordered his guards to disguise themselves as a merchant caravan, while he donned the robes of a scholar to act as the proprietor, leading carriages along the main road to simulate a trade mission.

When rebel scouts spotted them and saw the deep ruts left by the carriages, they assumed the carts were loaded with gold and valuables, and they rushed back to the stronghold to report. The rebel leader, blinded by greed, fell for the trap and led hundreds of his men to plunder the caravan.

At that moment, Luan Yi was dozing on horseback when he heard the shouts of an ambush. Many men emerged from the mountainside, arrayed in a formation along the slopes.

"Bandits! Run!" Luan Yi shouted, abandoning the carriages and fleeing, with his guards close behind.

The rebels, thinking they had won without a fight, swarmed down the mountain. They leapt onto the carriages and tore away the tarpaulins—only to find that the carts were not filled with gold, but with something arguably more valuable: jars of fine wine, the world-famous "God's Nectar."

The rebels were ecstatic, scrambling to open the jars and guzzle the contents, shouting, "Good wine! Excellent wine!"

Watching from a hill, Luan Yi, having reunited with the main force led by Dian Wei, sneered. "Good wine? I’ll show you that such windfalls aren't so easily won."

"Brothers! Attack!"

Luan Yi took a longbow from his guard, planted his feet, and nocked an arrow. Behind him, the guards lit the oil-soaked cloth on their arrowheads. Through the rising smoke, Luan Yi aimed at the carriages below and fired. "Loose!"

An embarrassing moment occurred. After all these years, Luan Yi’s archery had not improved. The arrow missed its mark by a wide margin. Fortunately, it happened to strike another carriage, smashing a jar of wine, which made Luan Yi flush with embarrassment. He silently vowed never to show off with a bow again!

But the guards, unaware of the truth, cheered, "The Master’s shot is divine!"

Luan Yi was left speechless, his face turning an even deeper shade of red.

The fire arrows ignited the highly alcoholic "God's Nectar." With so many jars present, the pressure built up instantly and the ceramic containers shattered with a roar. "Boom!" A dozen rebels near the carriages were blown away by the explosion, and several died on the spot. Even the horses pulling the carts were engulfed in flames, screaming and stampeding wildly, crushing several more rebels into pulp.

The rebel army fell into chaos. The Church guards charged down the mountain, unleashing more fire arrows and igniting six carriages at once. The explosions continued, "Boom, boom, boom..." A sea of fire consumed the area within a hundred meters. Countless rebels, their bodies ablaze, wailed as they rolled on the ground, but because of the high alcohol content and intense heat, they were burned to death before they could extinguish the flames.

The guards seized the opportunity to mop up the remaining enemies, cutting down hundreds. Dian Wei even captured the rebel leader, Xiang Jun, alive.

Luan Yi struck while the iron was hot. He had his men bring Xiang Jun before him. Sitting proudly on his horse, he demanded, "Do you know your crime?"

Bound in ropes, Xiang Jun knelt on the ground, his face covered in ash. He nodded dejectedly, "This small one knows his crime."

"Are you willing to redeem yourself?"

Xiang Jun’s body trembled, and tears welled in his eyes as he looked up at Luan Yi. As he lifted his head, a guard pushed it back down. "Don't move! Or don't blame me for being impolite."

"It is fine. Let him look up," Luan Yi said gently.

"Yes!"

Xiang Jun lifted his face to gaze at the man on the high horse. He struggled to describe the youth before him. He wore a pristine white Confucian robe, and in the center was embroidered a breathtaking image of a goddess. Xiang Jun recognized it; he had seen this image in many Mother Goddess temples. It was Nüwa, the Mother Goddess, the supreme deity of the sect.

The white robe refracted a gentle, white light that filled one’s eyes with a sense of peace. Luan Yi had a handsome face, his expression both intimate and gentle, yet harboring the quiet authority of a superior, giving him an air of both accessibility and distance. "Who are you..."

"I am Luan Yi, Luan Ziqi."

"You are... the Master of the Mother Goddess?"

"Indeed, that is I!"