Trafford's Trading Club

Chapter 1096: Defection

The magazines were swapped midair with swift precision—during a backward leap, Yan Xiaoxi completed the action in a flash.

The twin handguns loaded with Spell Bullets in Yan Xiaoxi’s hands were like extensions of his body. With incredible firing speed and deadly accuracy, the bullets imbued with Daoist energy tore through the air. Whether in mobile assault or precision shooting, each shot struck the weak points of the massive stone-mud giants.

He moved like a powerful Daoist skilled in various arts—but clearly, Yan Xiaoxi followed the martial path. His body surged with true force, not mana.

Daoist Su Mubai and Zi Xing were witnessing this combat style for the first time. As long as there was enough supply of Spell Bullets, Yan Xiaoxi essentially had unlimited firepower.

Within five minutes, dozens of mudstone giants were wiped out by the Management Bureau agents on the mountainside. The battle even saw the use of powerful Daoist grenades.

Alongside the Management Bureau agents were teams from both the Daoist World and Demon Clan, led respectively by Zi Xing and Su Mubai. Shocked by the sheer speed and efficiency of the operation, many Daoists on-site couldn’t help but ponder a deeper question:

Once regular soldiers are trained and armed with these weapons and tools, what advantage do Daoists or Demon beings still have?

Weapons and equipment could be mass-produced. But cultivating a skilled Daoist or Demon took years, even decades.

“The Bureau's confidence clearly isn’t just from that ‘agreement’… it’s also this new power,” murmured Su Mubai, drawing a bitter feeling in Zi Xing, the Greedy Wolf Clan's young master.

The Greedy Wolf Clan had once lived on fertile central plains. But as the human race expanded, those lands were claimed by mankind. Driven into remote, icy highlands, they avoided human interference—but still fell under constant surveillance from the nation.And if one day the country developed weapons more powerful than Spell Bullets or grenades… how long would their kind survive?

The sound of the last giant collapsing shook Zi Xing from his thoughts.

On a large boulder stood a man in a bronze mask, calmly clapping—as if admiring a brilliant performance. His strange behavior raised everyone’s guard.

Yan Xiaoxi, now reloading with sharp efficiency, glanced up. “You’ve lost your support. Give up—do you really think you can escape with so many of us surrounding you?”

“Perhaps not,” the bronze-masked man said, shaking his head. “Chief Yan, may I ask a few questions?”

“Stalling for time?” Yan Xiaoxi sneered.

“Not at all.” The man said evenly. “Each of these mudstone giants took a month to craft—time-consuming, material-heavy, and mana-draining. A student would need at least 20 years to learn to make one. Tell me, how long does your gear take to produce?”

“I have no obligation to tell you that.”

But Yan Xiaoxi sensed something was wrong. He discreetly signaled for Management Bureau snipers to lock on.

“I’ll answer for you,” the bronze-masked man said. “Your guns can be mass-produced in military factories. The tricky part is the bullets—each one inscribed with a miniature Daoist array. But since the design is fixed, even students can make them. One student can craft 80–100 bullets a day. In your earlier skirmish, you fired 3,973 bullets. So ten students, in four days, can replenish your entire stock. Four days versus twenty years. What do you think, Chief Yan?”

Without replying, Yan Xiaoxi signaled the snipers to fire.

Blasts erupted where the man stood, the boulder shattering. But as the smoke cleared, he stood unharmed—shielded by a transparent barrier. “Based on these bullets, how many present could block them unaided?” he asked calmly.

The gathered Daoists and Demons looked visibly unsettled.

Yan Xiaoxi muttered, “This is bad,” then quietly ordered, “Authorize the Godslayer Bullet. If needed—kill him.”

Just then, the bronze-masked man laughed.

“Comrades… we lost our future because of the ‘agreement’. Now they hold weapons to challenge us head-on. How much space is left for our survival? Since ancient times, warriors resisted authority—do we still have a voice in the imperial court?”

Some around them began hesitating.

“Demon bewitchment?” Yan Xiaoxi noted the strange atmosphere. It wasn’t normal persuasion—something more was at play.

Then the masked man made his motive clear.

“The Jade Dragon Pillars are drawing Earth’s spiritual energy. Their purpose is to awaken the latent power in Divine Land’s Twelve Dragon Veins, restoring the environment of a thousand years ago!”

As he spoke, a blazing white pillar of light shot skyward—not from Fan Cliff, where they stood—but about 30 kilometers to the northeast.

“The second Jade Dragon Pillar has been planted,” his voice echoed, even as his figure vanished. “The new era is near. I await you… atop Mount Tai.”

Gone in a blink.

“Damn it—a feint! Lock onto the real location—move out!” Yan Xiaoxi barked.

He had been duped—the earlier energy surge had been a diversion.

But he was more troubled by what came next.

“Chief Yan,” said Su Mubai, “why did the 71st Generation say something completely different from what you told us at the meeting?”

“You claimed he was trying to repeat a past tragedy…”

Dozens of eyes turned toward Yan Xiaoxi. He quickly composed himself and said:

“Back then, the Plain-Clothed Dao’s Qingxiaozi swore he could find Penglai. What came of it? This 71st Generation is using a modified version of Qingxiaozi’s plan. But back then, only Mount Tai’s ley lines were involved. This time, it's all Twelve Dragon Veins. Can such overwhelming power really be controlled?”

He paused. “The revival of spiritual energy is uncertain—but the danger is real. You all know this.”

The Daoist and Demon groups stayed silent—but skepticism lingered in their eyes.

Yan Xiaoxi climbed back into the car and said quietly, “I’m heading to the location of the second Jade Dragon Pillar… Daoist Su Mubai, the nation has always been tolerant with its people. If there’s no intent of rebellion, why would we abandon you? The so-called Divine Land you speak of—is it not the very country we live in now? Please stop drawing unnecessary lines.”

This time, the Daoist and Demon factions did not immediately follow but remained where they were.

Meanwhile, the convoy of off-road vehicles drove off.

Inside the car, the agent driving glanced at Yan Xiaoxi and frowned. “Chief, I didn’t expect the 71st Generation of Heavenly Heart to pull something like this… he really flipped the tables on us.”

“I’m more certain now—he’s not working alone.” Yan Xiaoxi narrowed his eyes.

At the same time, beneath the rising sun, the massive pillar of light not only did not fade—it grew even brighter, as if it were proclaiming something to the world.

...

Song Family Village

At the far end of the village, in the house rented by Song Haoran, a figure suddenly crashed through a door and rolled out—Old Zhou.

Old Zhou collapsed on the ground clutching his chest, groaning in pain. Moments later, he foamed at the mouth and passed out.

Leaning against the outside wall and looking at his phone, Song Da casually waved his hand, signaling people to carry Old Zhou away. He adjusted his clothes and then walked calmly into the room.

Inside, the mysterious woman brought back from the depths of the imperial tomb was once again collapsed on the floor, struggling to prop herself up.

Song Haoran picked up a broken piece of a whiteboard from the ground—it had a character written by Old Zhou.

A Qin (秦) character in seal script, with a big “X” slashed over it… perhaps that was why Old Zhou had been thrown out?

“Miss, it’s not easy to find a teacher at this hour. If you beat him to death, I honestly have no idea where I’ll get you another one on such short notice,” Song Haoran said, leaning against the wall.

“Qin… Great Qin has truly…” The woman looked at Song Haoran, her voice trembling. “Perished?”

Song Haoran chuckled lightly and said, “Modern folks love imaginative thinking. There’s a theory that if the emperor of Great Qin had really achieved immortality, the Qin Empire would have endured to this day. At its peak, Qin was arguably the strongest nation in the world. If it had lasted a thousand, even two thousand years, maybe the entire world would now be part of the Qin Empire’s domain.”

Seeing the silent woman, he added, “Of course, if that were true, I’d probably be terrified right now… since the Great Qin Iron Cavalry would still be around, wouldn’t they?”

Her shoulders trembled slightly. She kept her head down, her hair falling over half her face.

Song Haoran silently observed her. Neither of them spoke or moved again.

After a long time, the woman slowly raised her head, looked at Song Haoran, and said softly, “My name is Chuyang. His Majesty granted me the title Princess Chuyang.”

“Qin Chuyang?” Song Haoran blinked in surprise.

But Princess Chuyang shook her head. “I bear my mother’s surname, the national surname of her clan—An.”

“Alright then,” Song Haoran nodded. “Princess Chuyang, it's a pleasure to meet you. But until I’m certain of my own safety, I’m afraid I still can’t return the pearl to you. Please forgive me.”

“Qin has fallen, and Father Emperor is now dust…” Chuyang gave a bitter smile. “This remnant life of mine isn’t worth keeping. Just leave. Once you’re thirty feet away, the yang energy in the air will naturally consume my body.”

Song Haoran frowned… A princess from two thousand years ago, and the first thing she wants is to die?

What a waste.

“Why haven’t you left yet?” Chuyang frowned when she saw he didn’t move. “Great Qin has fallen. I am a princess of a dead empire. I cannot offer you anything in return—so there’s no need to waste your efforts on me.”

“Well, that’s true,” Song Haoran replied thoughtfully. “But the fact that you’ve lived for two thousand years is already astonishing. If word of that got out, there’d be countless people wanting to study how you achieved such longevity… and plenty of rich folks willing to pay handsomely to ‘acquire’ you.”

Princess Chuyang’s gaze turned cold.

Song Haoran merely smiled and said, “That said, although Great Qin is gone, since Your Highness has awakened, shouldn’t you at least pay your respects to your father? As a daughter, that’s only natural, isn’t it? Dying right away… wouldn’t that be a bit unfilial?”

Princess Chuyang frowned again.

(End of Chapter)