Advent of Immortal Truth

Chapter 462 : Blood-Spirit Flower



Chapter 462 : Blood-Spirit Flower

Chapter 462: Blood-Spirit Flower

Late night.

In the deep curtain of night, the distant mountains appeared vague and indistinct.

The night wind was cold, sweeping across the entire Red Flower Camp.

Not far away, the night-time Canglin Immortal City remained brightly lit. The orange glow, along with faint laughter and the drifting notes of music on the wind, only served to highlight the barrenness and solitude of the military camp.

The wounded were gathered together.

Mu Lan was patrolling at night and walked into the area where the injured were concentrated, her face filled with anger.

Her spiritual sense detected many wounded soldiers lying on the ground in the night, trembling from the cold. Some curled into tight balls, some moaned in their sleep.

“What is going on? Why hasn’t the formation been activated to keep the tents warm?!” Mu Lan glared at those around her, sending a reprimand through spiritual sense.

Her subordinate hurriedly reported, “General, our army is running low on spirit stones. Any cuts that can be made, must be made.”

“I did report this to you before, and this order came from you.”

Mu Lan froze.

She quickly recalled that during the day, she had been handling military affairs, worrying over depleted funds.

Her subordinate had indeed come to report, and what she thought then was: “We cannot lack the compensation for the fallen. Any areas that can be saved must be saved!”

Ensuring warmth inside the tents—this, in Mu Lan’s view, was indeed something that could be cut.

Military funds were so tight that even a night’s expenditure of a few hundred spirit stones forced Mu Lan to calculate to the last coin.

Mu Lan fell silent.

Even now, if she had to give the order to fill the tents with spirit stones and raise the temperature, she still couldn’t do it.

The military funds were simply too scarce!

In silence, Mu Lan lifted the curtain and entered the tent.

A pungent smell assaulted her.

The stench of blood, poison, and the chill of illness...

Most of the wounded were lying on the ground, using bedding spread directly on the floor, deeply asleep.

Only a little over twenty stretchers carried the severely wounded.

Some were in too much pain to sleep soundly, hovering between sleep and wakefulness.

Zhang Chongyi was still treating the wounded.

He was half-kneeling beside one stretcher, scooping medicinal paste from a clay jar with his hand and applying it to the injured man’s wounds.

From time to time, he activated his technique to help channel the medicine’s effects into the patient.

Upon seeing Mu Lan, Zhang Chongyi only gave her a glance before continuing with his treatment.

It was the severely wounded soldier on the stretcher who, upon noticing Mu Lan, struggled to rise and offer a salute.

Mu Lan stepped forward, pressing him down with an iron expression. “Lie down. Receive treatment.”

“General!” The soldier choked with emotion.

“When you're healed, we’ll slay the enemy together.” Mu Lan encouraged him.

“Yes, General!” The soldier grew too excited, rolled his eyes, and fainted on the spot.

Mu Lan: …

Zhang Chongyi sighed and repeatedly waved her off.

With a heavy heart, Mu Lan stepped out of the tent.

Moments later, in the main command tent, Zhang Chongyi dragged his weary body to report to Mu Lan, “The situation is terrible.”

“We have too few physicians. Even if I work from dawn till dusk, I cannot treat so many wounded.”

“The conditions in the camp are poor; we can’t even ensure basic warmth.”

“Give us a few more nights like this, and many severely wounded men may not survive.”

Mu Lan said solemnly, “We must do everything possible to heal them.”

Zhang Chongyi frowned tightly. “Has the situation deteriorated this far? How much funding remains?”

Zhang Chongyi knew well that Mu Lan was not a stingy person. She would never skimp on military funds.

Mu Lan forced a smile. “Uncle Zhang, though the funds are low, there’s still some support left. You’ve worked tirelessly for three days and nights—what’s the general mood among the wounded?”

Zhang Chongyi said, “Most of the wounded are veterans. They don’t complain—what they truly care about is the defeat.”

“These men are the true foundation of your Grand General’s Mansion.”

“They are elite soldiers, good soldiers. If they die of illness in the camp due to insufficient treatment from lack of funds, it would be a tragic waste.”

“If all else fails…”

At that, Zhang Chongyi took out a magical treasure and handed it to Mu Lan.

“Why not pawn this for funds?” Zhang Chongyi said.

Mu Lan was moved. “Uncle Zhang, this is your most treasured magical treasure—how can you pawn it?”

“Since joining our army, you’ve given almost your entire fortune. If now I let you pawn even your life-bound magical treasure, how could I ever face my father?”

“This is out of the question!”

Mu Lan refused immediately.

Zhang Chongyi gave a bitter smile. “I’m no longer in the Nascent Soul stage. I’ve fallen to the Golden Core level, and my life-bound treasure has suffered as well—it’s defective now.”

“It’s of little use to me anymore.”

Mu Lan’s gaze sharpened. “This is absolutely unacceptable! If we pawn this, it would reveal our army’s weakness to the world. Not only would it be a heavy blow to morale, but it would also invite our enemies like a swarm of sharks drawn to blood.”

“Right now, many of the wounded are only hanging on thanks to the military's strength. If morale collapses, our strength will weaken, and many lightly wounded will become severely injured—severely injured ones may lose their lives.”

“Uncle Zhang, although we have retreated from the battlefield, we are still in a dangerous position.”

Zhang Chongyi fell silent, then slowly nodded, his voice hoarse. “That’s true. I hadn’t considered it thoroughly enough.”

The Grand General’s Mansion of Elder Mu had become a coveted target of many court officials, both civil and military.

This time, Mu Lan was forced to take her father’s place on the battlefield—it was their doing.

If the Red Flower Camp exposed even a hint of weakness, it would be like a wounded beast bleeding—sure to attract sharks from all directions.

Zhang Chongyi asked, “If we grit our teeth and endure, can we survive this?”

Mu Lan answered confidently, “Of course we can. Tomorrow is military provisions day. Once we receive that batch of supplies, things will improve—we’ll get some breathing room.”

“Uncle Zhang, I’ve been raised by my father since childhood. Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

Zhang Chongyi exhaled a heavy breath, visibly more relaxed. “That’s good. That’s good.”

After he left, Mu Lan finally furrowed her brows. Her previously confident gaze faded into hesitation and worry.

As the commander, she had to maintain confidence and exude strength at all times. If the general sighed and frowned constantly, how could morale be sustained?

Ever since the ambush battle, immense pressure had weighed on Mu Lan’s heart.

She was the daughter of a military family and had always maintained a clear view of her own situation.

By the candlelight at the desk, Mu Lan continued handling military affairs.

She had to meticulously calculate every expense, finding ways to cut costs from every angle.

The deficit on the books was too large—so large she didn’t dare hand the ledger to the quartermaster.

After a long time poring over the numbers, Mu Lan looked at the accounts and felt as if she were falling into an abyss.

“Tomorrow... once we get the military provisions and a small number of spirit stones, at least the soldiers’ meals will improve, and we can hang on a bit longer.”

Mu Lan sighed bitterly in her heart.

Zhang Chongyi hadn’t closed his eyes for three days and nights, and she was the same—patrolling the camp, comforting soldiers, and still having to handle the accounts.

Bookkeeping was neither her strength nor her preference.

She preferred galloping across the battlefield, slaying enemy commanders with her bow and arrows!

But there was no choice. Harsh reality left her no other path.

Overwhelming drowsiness crept in. Exhausted beyond measure, Mu Lan slumped over the desk and drifted off to sleep.

In a daze, she dreamed of her childhood.

Elder General Mu had returned to camp victorious.

“Dad!” Young Mu Lan had long waited at the gate. Upon seeing her father, she let out a cheer and ran toward him, throwing herself into his arms without hesitation.

“Hey, hey, slow down, slow down,” Elder General Mu called out helplessly, half kneeling to brace himself, gently catching little Mu Lan with all his might.

“I haven’t even taken off my armor yet. Did you hurt yourself?” he asked with concern.

He had just heard a thump—Mu Lan’s forehead had bumped into his chestplate.

Mu Lan looked up at her father, her eyes filled with worship and affection. “Dad.”

Just as she spoke, her attention was drawn to a flower.

“Huh? What’s that?” Mu Lan pointed at her father’s shoulder armor. “Dad, a flower’s growing on your shoulder!”

Elder General Mu turned his head. Sure enough, there was a bright red bud, sprouting from the seam in his shoulder armor, swaying gently in the breeze.

Elder General Mu reached up, plucked it, and handed it to Mu Lan. “This is a Blood-Spirit Flower.”

“This kind of flower only grows and blooms on the battlefield.”

“The fiercer the fighting, the heavier the casualties, the more blood-spirit flowers sprout, and the more vivid their color.”

Mu Lan was delighted. “This flower is so beautiful! I’ll take good care of it!”

She cherished it like a treasure—a gift from her father.

But Elder General Mu’s face turned stern. “Nonsense!”

“The Blood-Spirit Flower is not an ordinary blossom. It cannot be kept alive.”

“It grows quickly, and withers just as fast.”

“It is a red flower nourished by blood and life—it is the origin of our Mu Family’s Red Flower Camp.”

“You must respect it. Respect every battle.”

“Mu Lan, you are the sole heir of the Grand General’s Mansion. You must understand the weight of the Blood-Spirit Flower!”

“It is no plaything. War is not a game. Every war comes with wounds and sacrifices. In the future, you will become the commander of the Red Flower Camp. Remember—do everything in your power to reduce our casualties. Water the Blood-Spirit Flower with the blood of our enemies!”

Mu Lan looked up, her little face full of seriousness. She loudly declared, “Dad, I’ll remember!”

……

“General, General, wake up!” A subordinate’s urgent voice startled Mu Lan awake.

She looked up to see sunlight pouring into the tent through the lifted curtain.

Seeing the subordinate’s anxious expression, a strong sense of dread welled up inside her.

“What happened?” Mu Lan asked in a low voice.

The subordinate said, “We went to collect the military provisions, but the city said our paperwork wasn’t in order. They want the proper documents before releasing the supplies.”

“We asked—and it was the overseer’s decision!”

“What?!” Mu Lan’s vision darkened at the words.

The thing she feared most had happened!

These provisions were lifelines for the Red Flower Camp!

“Zhao—Xi!” Mu Lan roared with rage. She immediately adjusted her armor, threw on her scarlet cloak, and barked to her subordinates, “Come. I’ll go collect it myself. Let’s see who dares block me?!”


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