Peace Order

The strong winds sweep across all directions, spreading sand and dust that hinder visibility. Cities in the Western Regions are tightly closed, and the children there are granted a ’sandstorm holiday,’ exempting them from going to school. Yet, teachers have assigned some homework, adding more wails to the sandstorm.

"This batch of students is the worst I have ever taught."

"Today, when you go home, read thirteen pages of ’Mathematics General Explanation,’ and complete three sets of ’Five-Three Homework.’

The young boys cried out in protest.

"No!!!"

"Sir, please reverse your decision. I don’t want to do math problems."

Having just transitioned from a student to a teacher, the young man spoke with an air of satisfaction the words he had long wanted to utter:

"Class dismissed."

The students’ hearts were even more clouded than the sandstorm outside.

Though life in the Western Regions today has changed tremendously from the past, cultural traditions are passed down through generations. No one is willing to oppose the powers of heaven and earth, and they avoid taking action in such weather, saying one must act in accordance with the times.

However, cultural inheritance is cultural inheritance. The current sandstorm in the Western Regions is merely a triviality to the children—

Just a holiday, some homework.

A part of the story.

These days, the children listen to their elders recount the tales of yore as if worlds apart.

Old people recount how rare water sources were, often needing to be procured at the cost of lives, saying that in those days oases were assets only large tribes could possess. Not only were there no vegetables now, but not even having a full belly was considered a luxury.

To survive, the elderly within the tribe were often abandoned.

Large tribes controlled the oases, forming city-states along the water flow and becoming nobles, while small tribes placed their lives on horseback, wandering along the water flow. In the Western Regions of that time, humans were also considered commodities.

The children find no true feeling in these words. Listening makes them yawn, their spirits lacking. They brighten up only when hearing talk of eating pilaf, almost springing up with excitement.

Every time at this moment, the elders feel a sense of lament and loss, yet also a feeling of gratitude, thinking this is the best outcome.

Because of the Qilin’s flame reaching the desert, there is now such stable living here.

In chaotic times, people themselves naturally become commodities.

The scythes that harvest these ’commodities’ emerge accordingly.

With fast horses, cloaks, mounted archery, and curved blades, they spread the terrifying reputation of the Western Regions sand pirates far and wide. However, after the arrival of the Qilin Army here and the reorganization of the Anxi Protectorate, these sand pirates turned into the first piece of military school funding, and they became rare sightings.

The Western Regions are now safe along the routes.

If not for the current severe wind and sand, many young boys of the Western Regions would be riding horses and aspiring to join the Anxi army of the Anxi Protectorate. But as it stands, only traders continue on their way on the main roads.

Jingling, jingling—

As the wind blows past, the camel bells in the desert ring brightly.

The camels kneel on the ground, surrounding the cargo to block the sand and wind. Traders adjust their turbans, gazing far at the wind and sand in the sky. The sandstorm makes even horses unstable, yet one young trader stands firmly, his back muscles strong, standing there like a sharp sword.

Praising, he said: "In my youth, I only traded from the Central Plains to Central State, having heard of the expansive wind and sand of the frontier desert."

"I’m not seeing it for myself until now, with the unification of the world truly revealing such scenery."

"Majestically grand, it makes the heart feel free."

This young man in a round-neck robe, a sword at his waist, appears youthful but his eyebrows already carry hints of grandeur. Now, with the unification of the world, martial prowess sets the foundation of the nation, bringing prosperity to the country, and the people carry a bold spirit.

His name is Shi Yisong, a trader.

In his youth, he encountered the Emperor along the road in Central State and was instructed in swordsmanship by the Sword Madman. Though still young, his martial skills have become quite substantial. Before the imperial wedding, returning the two swords he received in youth to their original ownership, he now carries only an ordinary Hundred Refinement Sword.

Now, the world is greatly governed, the Qilin Army moving through the Martial World, reestablishing order.

Traveling the world, seldom encountering any robbers who dare to block the road.

Yet the vast world contains diverse hearts, and there will always be some who do not abide by the rules. The Jianghu’s storms often involve conflicts, so the leader of the traders must have extraordinary abilities.

Shi Yisong always feels that if the Jianghu’s heroes and major sects do not know restraint, there will come a day when they touch the emperor’s bottom line; at that time, the Qilin Army will ride through the Jianghu—it’s almost inevitable. As the desert sandstorm grows, Shi Yisong witnesses its grandeur, feeling expansive within.

Suddenly he laughs out loud, clattering sounds, the sword unsheathes.

He leaps boldly into the storm within the sand and wind, moving with the wind. The sword’s light sharp and piercing, blends into the wind, adding three to five points of momentum. Such spirit makes hearts surrender. A white-haired fellow lifts his head, covered with oilcloth to block the sand, also swallowing a mouthful of sand.

Seeing this scene, his eyes differ from usual traders’ amazement, but instead express astonished wonder.

Softly he says: "While young and yet to learn martial arts, he encountered the Sword Madman, and though only briefly instructed during the time of Emperor Qin, the guidance stretching out was distant. Not obtaining the profound and mysterious depths of Sword Dao, he attained a strand of purity. As a trader, measured the earth with his feet."

"Gathered the vast unified world’s mountains and rivers into his sword, forming his own phenomenon."

"Murong Longtu, ah Murong Longtu, with your departure, all things live."

"Another Sword Dao Grandmaster in the making."

"Sword Madman, such skill!"

"Your last sword etched the Sword Dao glory of the next three hundred years in this world."

He easily discerned the trader’s origins amidst the storm.

Under the oilcloth blocking sand, the elder dressed as a storyteller, wore coarse blue clothes, a gray belt with a pouch, inside a roll of bamboo slips, and a carving knife.