Chapter One: The Salt Commander of Shandong

Zhu Wen stood alone on the broad official road. On either side stretched wild, untamed fields. He gripped his saber firmly, standing before the slow-moving ranks of thousands of troops and horses. Within the formation, not a horse neighed; the wheels of war chariots ground against the earth with a continuous rumble.

A faint smile curved his lips, and his eyes brightened. Since parting from that extraordinary woman—born into an official family yet harboring the spirit of the martial world and a resolve to bring clarity to the realm—this dull world was finally becoming interesting. If his life were to remain as tedious as before, death would be preferable.

“Ranger of Mount Mangdang, Zhu Wen, requests an audience with the Salt Commander.”

When he noticed the mountain of gold, jewels, and treasures overturned on the road, yet the ironclad military formation did not stir even a whisper of disturbance, he finally spoke. There was little sign of respect, only a serene composure as clear as autumn waters.

“Who is this arrogant brat, so reckless and ignorant of death?”
“Does the Salt Commander receive just anyone who wishes to see him?”
“Brothers, shoulder to shoulder, tear this insolent child to pieces!”

Only then did insults and curses arise from within the ranks. Such a reaction was not unexpected by Zhu Wen. To stand before an army’s vanguard, blocking their path, was an extreme breach of etiquette. Normally, one would wait until the army camped, then respectfully present a letter of introduction to the guards, stating their purpose.

But Zhu Wen knew he was of a somewhat difficult temperament.

“The Salt Commander, Huang Jutian, leads the righteous army for the sake of the realm. How could he slay men of talent before the world is settled?”

“Jutian” was the courtesy name of Huang Chao, leader of the rebel forces. “Salt Commander” was a nickname derived from Huang’s beginnings as a salt smuggler.

At these words, the faces of the rebel leaders shifted subtly, their gazes growing grave. This youth, wearing a red headscarf and coarse black cloth, was a common wanderer from the wilds, yet bore a noble aura that drew attention like a scion of a troubled age. Claiming to be a man of talent was perhaps not entirely unfounded.

“The boy knows our army’s supplies are scant, so he has prepared several carts laden with gold, jewels, and two granaries of provisions as tribute for the audience.”

No one doubted this, for the treasure blocking the road was indeed the supplies Zhu Wen had described.

“Moreover, he has thousands of followers, well-fed and battle-hardened, willing to follow the righteous army through fire and water.”

“If there is a single falsehood, you may execute me on the spot. I will die without regret.”

Low murmurs arose among the troops, but a sharp cough silenced all. A man in golden armor, middle-aged, stepped from the ranks with a measured gait.

His gaze fell upon Zhu Wen, and he smiled. When he smiled, his eyes sparkled like stars, radiating charm, yet the soldiers trembled in awe, scarcely daring to breathe. Even Zhu Wen felt a flicker of unease beneath that gaze.

“Very well, bring forth your men for inspection,” the rebel leader Huang Chao spoke.

Only then did the rebels begin gathering and counting the gold and provisions on the road.

Zhu Wen nodded once, reached into his pouch, and threw a signal arrow with a bone whistle, summoning his subordinates.

Huang Chao inquired about Zhu Wen’s background, watching as thousands of men flowed out, forming battle lines on the plain, banners fluttering, weapons gleaming like a forest.

After a brief glance, Huang said calmly, “The quality of your troops is poor. Most should be disbanded; keep only five hundred to serve.”

Zhu Wen’s expression shifted slightly.

These were the men he had trained meticulously for two years, men who had defeated imperial forces repeatedly, leaving the Tang government helpless. How could Huang Chao deem only one-fifth of them worthy?

Yet Huang Chao’s deep gaze continued to study him, making Zhu Wen uneasy.

“Displeased?” Huang asked.

“Not at all,” Zhu Wen replied.

“Half a month ago, our forces clashed with the imperial Shen Ce army and suffered setbacks,” Huang Chao stroked his short beard. “Five days ago, a band of local bandits ambushed us. We routed them, but they excelled at fleeing. We captured no prisoners and gained little loot.”

“Today, you join us to relieve the Salt Commander’s urgent plight,” Zhu Wen said, meeting Huang’s unyielding gaze.

The rebel commander’s inscrutable smile carried a warmth that seemed born for leadership over thousands.

Huang’s finger traced the air slowly but forcefully, as if piercing the void: “Let me guess. The ambush five days ago was because our army had recently been defeated by the officials, and the bandits thought Huang Jutian weak and vulnerable.”

“They are all frogs in a well, not worth mentioning,” Zhu Wen replied.

“But our army lacks supplies and took no spoils. Suddenly seeing gold and jewels blocking the road, might there be disorder and looting? If the formation breaks on the march, even a strong army can be defeated.”

Huang’s gaze blazed hotter, his finger sharp as a sword pointing at Zhu Wen’s chest: “If so, then your men are not true volunteers but a well-prepared ambush!”

His words struck to the core, accusing Zhu Wen of joining only because the rebel army was orderly and disciplined, otherwise seeking to plunder.

A lightning bolt flashed through Zhu Wen’s mind, where darkness had reigned and calm prevailed below.

His wrist trembled slightly, yet he felt a faint thrill.

This was the exciting world he had dreamed of.

“After your signal arrow, your men took nearly the time of a tea break to assemble. If they had truly lain in ambush, how could they be so slow?”

At Huang’s words, the gazes of thousands sharpened like frost knives, relentlessly focused on him. The phrase “one man against a thousand, doomed to die without cause” was especially true under Huang Chao’s fierce soldiers.

Even under such pressure, Zhu Wen maintained his composure, convinced he was truly a genius.

“This explanation is very good. I admire such meticulous youthfulness,” Huang said leisurely, clearly still harboring doubts.

“I come with sincerity to serve, yet am met with suspicion. Salt Commander, do you not fear losing the hearts of the people?”

“Well said, well said.” Huang clapped his hands. “Are you about to say that if I doubt you further, you would rather take your own life on the spot to prove your loyalty? When I was young, I played such games too.”

Zhu Wen’s eyelids dropped involuntarily.

Huang had anticipated one of his possible lines.

Yet Huang found no solid flaw; all was mere speculation.

“Not at all. Even ants cherish life; how could I perform such a show before the Salt Commander?”

This was half the truth. Zhu Wen could act brilliantly, but such acts exhausted him.

“You think your plan flawless, but you are still too young,” Huang said. “Zhu Wen, you say you are from Xiaoxian in Xuzhou?”

Zhu Wen bowed respectfully. “I was born in Dangshan County of Songzhou, but orphaned young, I moved with my mother to the village of Shilin in Xiaoxian, Xuzhou.”

Huang continued, “Your men were once the Tongshan bandits you subdued. Their stronghold lies directly east of your hometown. I have a question: Why did you not come to join us when we passed through your hometown two days ago, but instead led your troops northward to wait for us?”

Zhu Wen’s heart tightened. “The locals disapprove of my actions. The matter disturbed my mother, causing her resentment. If the Salt Commander has doubts, you need only send men to inquire.”

This was true. Zhu Wen’s elder brother and mother despised his reckless ways. Hearing he had become a mountain king in the wilds, resisting officials, they nearly disowned him.

“In chaotic times, who does not rely on their home community? Even by force, one must gather old acquaintances for support.”

Huang’s tone hardened sharply: “Let me tell you the real reason. Our army is far larger than yours. You think if we fought over supplies and caused chaos, you could kill a few, seize weapons and heads to curry favor with the government, and yet completely annihilate or seriously wound our forces? That is nearly impossible.”

“Not knowing your background, we would treat you as local militia. Most likely, we would burn nearby villages in retaliation. You would not want your hometown caught in the crossfire. That is your true reason for this unnecessary detour!”

Zhu Wen felt his mind freeze instantly. Facing Huang Chao’s meticulous analysis, he could think no further.

“Men!” Huang thundered, “Bring me the Daxia Dragon-Quail treasured sword!”

Two guards immediately brought forth a black sandalwood box and drew out a long, unsheathed blade. The hilt formed a great ring entwined with dragons, the pommel shaped like a bird. The blade gleamed blood-red, menacing as though harboring countless trapped souls wailing in anguish.

Huang Chao, heroic in bearing, wielded the fierce blade, his presence commanding the heavens.

Zhu Wen’s men surged forward, desperate to protect their leader at all costs, but Huang’s sidelong glance froze them in place with terror.

As the deadly blade drew near, Zhu Wen felt a bitter reluctance mingled with a faint loneliness.

So this was life. A single miscalculation, and no matter how great one’s fate, all could vanish in an instant.

He no longer cared to defend himself, yet refused to close his eyes, determined to stay conscious to the last.

Not stunned by fear, but numb in a transcendent calm.

With a swift sweep, the blood-red blade cut across.

In the end, he reached out his bare hand, touched his head.

It was still there.

The treasured sword clattered to the ground.

A sharp voice thundered beside him.

“Why do you not take it, young fellows?”

Zhu Wen’s eyes brightened suddenly. He bent to retrieve the sword, wrapped it in silk, slung it behind his back, and bowed deeply, striving to appear composed.

“I am willing to serve under Commander Huang, to go before the saddle and behind the horse, through fire and water, fearless of life or death.”

Huang Chao spoke slowly, “A man who does not fear death is commendable. But until the last moment, one should never abandon the will to live.”

“You care for your homeland, which caused a lapse in your otherwise perfect scheme. But if you were truly so young and yet so ruthless and flawless, I would not keep you. Men like Jia Xu and Hou Jing only bring ruin to the world.”

“The one who wields this sword often falls to madness, losing all humanity. But for you, it will temper your spirit. This is my gift upon meeting you. If one day you lose control, use it on yourself.”

“You need not thank me. I keep you because I see your worth. Otherwise, this chaotic world would have swallowed you silently without my intervention.”

The tide of pressure receded, replaced by a flood of relief and joy.

Zhu Wen found his back soaked in sweat, his heavy robe clinging to him.

Yet his heart was filled with stirring excitement.

His future was the world where “the ocean is wide for fish to leap, the sky is high for birds to fly.”

No more restraint, no half-hearted efforts, no longer trapped in dullness and boredom.

The realm of heroes, the arena of champions—how could it fail to ignite passion?

Since childhood, he had watched the heavens as a fish in water, gazing blankly at the cloud-streaked sky ablaze with light. There were fierce tigers and dragons, constellations arrayed like soldiers.

But Tang China was a world ruled by aristocrats, ministers, military governors, and elite troops. They held the world above the clouds, severing the ladder to heaven and the connection to earth.

Without noble blood by birth, no matter how talented, a youth could only remain in the wild marshes.

For Zhu Wen, who had always considered himself extraordinary, to transform and ascend like a dragon—

Today was his one and only chance in life.