Tome of Troubled Times-Chapter 718: The Black Hmong King

Long ago, Miaojiang had a king, and Dali was the royal capital. Its ruler, the Black Hmong King, was a figure on the Ranking of Heaven. The White Hmong, led by Dao Qingfeng, suffered greatly under his oppressive rule, nearly to the point of annihilation, creating a deep-seated blood feud.

After uniting the tribes of Miaojiang, the Black Hmong King was not content with just the single region. Ambitious and aggressive, he launched multiple invasions into Bashu.

Unfortunately for him, he encountered Xia Longyuan, who was at the height of his power and in the prime of his campaign to “unify the world.” At that point, Xia Longyuan was invincible.

The Black Hmong King met his end decisively, slain with a single strike of Xia Longyuan’s saber. Yes, it was done with a saber, one that everyone was familiar with: Dragon Bird. The “little bird” was intimately acquainted with the Black Hmong King, though not in the way it might sound. The king was not sliced in half but had half his head cleaved off. In any case, he was thoroughly dead.

From then on, Miaojiang fell under the rule of the Great Xia Empire. Due to the difficulties of governing the region directly. Instead, a system of tribal autonomy under the supervision of imperial pacification commissioners emerged. The Black Hmong were significantly weakened but survived; Xia Longyuan did not enforce a policy of extermination, despite his initial massacres. Over the years, they were able to recover and even rebuild under figures like Lei Zhentang. Eventually, they colluded with the Bashan Sword Hut and orchestrated a rebellion that was ultimately crushed by Zhao Changhe.

After the rebellion, Miaojiang adopted a nominal tribal council. However, in practice, the council was defunct since there were no external wars requiring collective decision-making. What remained were power struggles among the tribes, such as the contest over who would control Dali. Sisi, despite being the strongest force, chose to withdraw from this contention—not out of strategy, but simply because she was too busy to bother.

The White Tribe, under Dao Qingfeng, and the Yao Tribe, under Pan Wan, fought fiercely over Dali. In the end, Dao Qingfeng prevailed and established control over the region, becoming the second most powerful force in Miaojiang after Sisi.

Originally, Dao Qingfeng had no grand ambitions. His focus had been solely on opposing Lei Zhentang’s Black Hmong. But as his power grew, so did his ambitions. Now, Dao Qingfeng believed that Miaojiang itself was within his grasp.

From the perspective of the tribes, Sisi’s position was precarious. The Xia soldiers, who form the backbone of her forces, could not be relied upon indefinitely, as their loyalty was rooted in gratitude rather than a shared cultural identity or governance system. Without a sense of belonging to the Spirit Tribe, they were highly susceptible to subversion and manipulation, especially if the agitators came from other Xia forces. Even Sisi was aware of this vulnerability. For instance, as Zhao Changhe observed, she had already integrated a significant number of Spirit Tribe members into her army to create a balance.

While Dao Qingfeng had never directly faced the terrifying spirit beasts of the Spirit Tribe, on the surface, it appeared that defeating the forces in Taoyuan Town would give him the opportunity to unify Miaojiang. How could he not be tempted to act?

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Despite the Spirit Tribe’s significant internal issues, Dao Qingfeng himself was at a disadvantage—his military strength was inferior, and he lacked powerful experts. He could not even defeat Sisi in direct combat, let alone contend with her when she had a Ranking of Heaven expert and a divine weapon on her side.

However, not long ago, a mysterious figure from Xiangxi sought him out with a proposal: he, too, could have a powerful expert.

That expert was none other than the Black Hmong King, resting in his tomb near the Dali border.

The figure explained how to create a corpse puppet, how Dao Qingfeng could turn the Black Hmong King’s corpse into his puppet—a puppet with combat power at the level of those on Ranking of Heaven.

Moreover, the figure was not offering to control the corpse puppet. They were willing to teach Dao Qingfeng the technique so he could wield the power himself.

After extensive testing with other corpses, Dao Qingfeng confirmed the technique’s feasibility. He then began secretly working on transforming the Black Hmong King’s corpse into a puppet. His earlier actions of digging up graves and looting treasures had merely been a cover to obscure his true intentions. His goal was always to refine the Black Hmong King into a corpse puppet.

However, no one could predict the chaos that would erupt if the Black Hmong King were resurrected. Dao Qingfeng knew he could not act prematurely. If the revival caused too much commotion, it could attract the attention of the Spirit Tribe, who still had a presence in Dali. Moreover, Sisi possessed treasures capable of countering corpse puppets. The divine axe, with its divine lightning, was a natural nemesis of such undead abominations. The fact that the Thief Saint had brought the axe to Dali seemed almost like divine intervention to frustrate his plans.

But with the Thief Saint dead, the divine axe now unclaimed, and the Spirit Tribe in internal disarray, there was no better time to act.

Dao Qingfeng wasted no time, leading his men deep into the tomb and heading straight for the core burial chamber.

The chamber’s traps had long been deactivated, and only a few guards remained at the entrance. They failed to notice a figure in red silently following them. By the time the group entered the burial chamber’s passage, the guards outside had already fallen quietly, like ghosts had claimed their breaths.

Inside the burial chamber, the coffin had already been opened. A dried corpse lay within, exuding a faint yet unmistakable aura of violence and malice. Yue Hongling, who had been following from a distance, felt her heart tremble with fear.

The corpse puppet ritual was already halfway complete. If the second half were finished, the consequences would be catastrophic. Having gained comprehensive knowledge of the Xue Wu and Maitreya’s corpse transformation during her dual cultivation with Zhao Changhe, Yue Hongling could say with near certainty that the emergence of this corpse puppet would not merely endanger the Spirit Tribe, it would plunge all of Dali, and perhaps even Miaojiang, into disaster.

Several White Hmong priests stood in a formation, chanting incantations, while Dao Qingfeng positioned himself near the corpse’s head. Placing his hand gently on the dried forehead, he closed his eyes and began the final ritual. Nearby, the messenger who had delivered the critical information watched with a smile, brimming with excitement and anticipation at their imminent success.

Pah!

The corpse suddenly extended an iron-like hand, gripping the edge of the coffin. With a loud crunch, the stone lid shattered into powder under its grip.

Dao Qingfeng was overjoyed, but his ecstasy was short-lived.

A burst of red light suddenly illuminated the chamber, and a flash of sword energy erupted in a brilliant blaze.

A streak of sword qi pierced directly between Dao Qingfeng’s brows. His triumphant smile froze on his face as the sword qi obliterated his spiritual platform, leaving him no chance for recovery.

The surrounding White Hmong priests and the messenger were all stunned. None of them had anticipated such a terrifying assassin appearing out of nowhere. None of them possessed even Ranking of Man-level strength, so how were they to resist such an overwhelming attack?

With a single strike, everything Dao Qingfeng had been attempting came to nothing.

“Yue... Hongling?” Dao Qingfeng’s dull eyes fixated on the scarred face in front of him. He did not even need to confirm who it truly was—there was no mistaking who could make use of such a sword move. Only Yue Hongling wielded such mastery. “Why... Just because you side with Xiang Simeng?”

“You’ve been blinded by your greed! Did you really think someone of your meager level—barely scratching the surface of the Profound Mysteries—could control the corpse of someone who was once on the Ranking of Heaven?” Yue Hongling showed no pride in her successful attack. On the contrary, she was even more furious. “Energy doesn’t appear out of thin air, and life doesn’t come without a cost. Of course you noticed nothing when experimenting on ordinary corpses. But reviving a Ranking of Heaven corpse puppet? It would inevitably demand the life force of its summoner as fuel! Killing you now is already too late!”

The faces of the White Hmong priests turned pale in an instant.

Crack!

They stopped the corpse puppet ritual immediately, but the damage was done. The dried corpse did not turn inert; instead, it continued to rise. As it stood, the entire stone coffin crumbled into dust.

Dao Qingfeng stared blankly at the messenger, his expression filled with disbelief.

The messenger finally laughed. “Ah, how curious. The art of controlling corpse puppets is supposed to be a closely guarded secret. It’s surprising that you are so well-informed... Could it be that during the Maitreya Cult’s reign of terror, you picked up some obscure techniques from Xiangxi that allowed you to see through all this?”

As he spoke, an invisible force seemed to transfer from the White Hmong priests to the dried corpse. Before the priests could utter a word, they collapsed, dead where they stood.

“With no life force to sustain it,” Yue Hongling snapped, “this puppet will destroy every living being here—Dali, Miaojiang, and your entire tribe!” She drew her sword again and lunged at the messenger.

Dao Qingfeng’s eyes were filled with boundless regret, but he could no longer speak. His lifeless body collapsed with a dull thud.

His last sight was of the corpse puppet moving with terrifying speed, reaching out to block Yue Hongling’s sword. The messenger attempted to flee, his expression panicked. He had not participated in the ritual to awaken the puppet, so his life force was not drained. Yet, as it turned out, he could control the corpse!

From beginning to end, it had all been a ruse. The true puppet master was someone else entirely.

Clang!

Yue Hongling’s sword collided with the Black Hmong King’s hand, which turned out to be as hard as forged steel. The clash released an explosive wave of energy that caused the burial chamber to tremble violently.

The triumphant messenger, convinced he had full control, did not even make it out of the burial chamber’s passage. A falling stone crushed him into a bloody pulp before he could escape.

In the end, all his scheming had been nothing more than his own demise.

But could Yue Hongling escape herself?