The immortal is beside me

Chapter 130: Broken Mountains and Rivers, Wind Blows Catkins, Life Ups and Downs, Rain Blows Duckweed

Sound of the waves.

The sound of an arrow breaking through the air.

The shouts and screams were getting closer and closer.

Zhao Bing suddenly opened his eyes, and the blazing fire was reflected in his pupils.

There were burning warships, countless of them sinking across the vast ocean, their prows emblazoned with the Chinese character "Song" blazing in the flames. Above the flames, countless arrows streaked across the sky, mingled with countless Mongolian words he couldn't understand, like the roars of wild beasts.

"Don't be afraid, Your Majesty, don't be afraid."

A hand gently patted his back. When he turned around, a tired face came into view.

It was the current Left Prime Minister, Lu Xiufu. This gray-haired man was sitting on the bow of the ship, holding him tightly in his arms. Amidst the flames, he whispered softly like a father coaxing a baby.

Zhao Bing grabbed his clothes and looked at the looming figures in the distance, his whole body trembling.

In his short seven years of life, he had seen them many times. These people, called Mongols, had the same faces and limbs as the people of the Central Plains, but they were carnivorous beasts, while the people of the Central Plains were just lambs eating grass, and lambs were no match for the beasts.

So the Central Plains was eaten up by them bite by bite. Huainan was eaten, Lin'an was eaten, and later Fuzhou and Jiangdong were also eaten. Countless Song people died under their iron hoofs, and even the right prime minister Wen Tianxiang was captured by them.

Now, the only place left for the entire Song Dynasty was the Yashan Mountain behind him, the ships under his feet, and the boundless sea behind him.

There was no place for the Han people to stand in the Central Plains. And the only reason he survived to this day was because of the name "Zhao Bing".

Born a descendant of an emperor, the blood of Emperor Taizu Zhao Kuangyin flows through his veins, but now he is a mere puppet manipulated at will by the powerful official Jia Sidao, and an incompetent young emperor in the eyes of the Mongols. In this short life, his surname is his only value.

The sound of breaking water was heard, and a figure in armor jumped onto the main ship, knelt on one knee in front of Lu Xiufu, and slammed his fist hard on the ship's plank.

"Prime Minister, the Yuan army has temporarily retreated," the general said. "From the looks of it, they're gathering more troops. I'm afraid they'll launch another fierce attack soon. It looks like this time, even the enemy sorcerers will be defeated."

Lu Xiufu was silent for a moment.

He knew who those "magicians" were. They were extraordinary individuals favored by the Eternal Heaven, and even the immortals of the Central Plains were no match for them. Now, with the immortal sects either dead or surrendered, they were no longer able to provide protection for the Song Dynasty. The imperial court had long since become a truly rootless duckweed.

Now this rootless duckweed has drifted to Yashan and is about to sink there.

"Prime Minister, I no longer seek survival. I will live and die with the court," the general said, his eyes fixed on Zhao Bing in his arms. "I have gathered my elite troops. When the tide rises, I will lead you and Your Majesty through the siege."

There was another moment of silence. Lu Xiufu looked quietly at the general in front of him, but shook his head after a while.

"General Zhang, given the current situation, you should know that the tide of change is no longer with the Song Dynasty."

"If we all die on the battlefield, Your Majesty might be captured and humiliated by the Mongols, and the humiliation of Jingkang might be repeated. If this were to happen, the Han people of the Central Plains might never rise again."

"We will perish together with the Mongols, but the Song Dynasty and the Central Plains cannot be annihilated. After you and I die, we must inspire future generations."

General Zhang was slightly startled. "What do you mean, Prime Minister?"

There was a moment of silence. Lu Xiufu looked at the frightened child in his arms and took a deep breath, as if he was going to tell a shocking secret.

"When His Majesty was born, it was discovered that he possessed spiritual roots. If the Mongol invasion had not caused the extinction of the immortals, he would have been accepted into the immortal sect. If he had cultivated successfully, he could have lived for hundreds of years."

As Lu Xiufu spoke, he reached into his arms, and when he took out his hand again, there was a talisman of a special shape in his palm.

"I learned from the Queen Mother that before the immortals passed away, they left this item for the Song Dynasty court. As long as there is royal blood as a trigger, it can trigger a magic that can seal a living being in solid ice, keeping them alive for decades."

"Even though Heaven does not bless the Song Dynasty, I believe that one day, the immortals will return, and the Central Plains can return to the hands of the Han people. If Your Majesty can survive until that day, you can continue the Song Dynasty."

"I believe it so firmly." He turned his head slowly. "Can General Zhang be trusted?"

General Zhang looked at him, understood his meaning in an instant, pondered for a moment, and then bowed.

"I will obey the Prime Minister's orders." Half an hour after these words were spoken, a small boat, escorted by many ships, quietly sailed into the tributary in front of the cliff gate, avoided the Yuan army, passed through the mountain dust, and arrived at the foot of the big ridge.

This is a seaport guarded by high peaks on both sides. It is so remote that even the sun cannot shine on it. There is only the dark blue sea water constantly washing the rocks on the shore. Just looking at it gives off a sense of death.

Zhao Bing curled up in Lu Xiufu's arms, looking up at the sky above. Behind them, the battle continued, and the flames in the sky continued to burn, becoming more and more intense, as if they were about to burn the entire world to ashes.

He knew that the Mongolian attack had been triggered again, people were dying every minute and every moment, and the ship named Song had already sailed into the abyss and was heading towards inevitable sinking.

"Prime Minister," Zhao Bing raised his head and asked Lu Xiufu tremblingly, "Is the Great Song Dynasty about to fall?"

Lu Xiufeng looked at him, his tired face seemed to be condensed with countless hardships, but the moment he opened his mouth, all the hardships melted away and turned into warm tenderness flowing in his voice.

"That is not the case, Your Majesty," he said softly. "The state lives with you. As long as Your Majesty lives, the Song Dynasty will not perish."

"What about the Prime Minister?" Zhao Bing looked at him. "Prime Minister and General Zhang, aren't you coming with me?"

Lu Xiufu paused, a gleam in his tired eyes: "I have received the grace of the Song Dynasty, but now the enemy is at our doorstep. I must stand with the country. Your Majesty will see the future, and I, your servants, will defend your majesty for now."

The seven-year-old emperor looked at him in bewilderment. He was still too young to comprehend the meaning of these words, nor did he know how he could shoulder the weight of a dynasty. The fear of his unknown fate filled him, and he clung tightly to the prime minister before him, like a young animal clinging to its mother.

But immediately, his hand was pulled away by another rough hand.

"Your Majesty, please forgive me for overstepping my bounds."

A flash of cold light passed, and a dagger slashed across his palm, causing blood to gush out instantly. The excruciating pain made him burst into tears, and he watched helplessly as the blood flowed into the talisman in Lu Xiufu's hand. The palm-sized talisman suddenly lit up, and it seemed as if endless cold air was emanating from it.

Under the watchful eyes of many guards, Lu Xiufu stuffed the talisman into his hand, bent down, and slowly placed him into the sea water covered with dust. The moment he touched the sea water, the extreme cold turned the water into ice, wrapping the young emperor in it.

The cold air hit him, freezing the tears on his face and also freezing his thoughts. Zhao Bing tried hard to open his eyes. In his increasingly blurred perception, the figure in front of him became increasingly distant, and even the voice seemed to be thousands of miles away.

"One day, all the Tartars will be driven out, and all the immortals and gods will return, carrying on the legacy of the old dynasty, restoring China's mountains and rivers, recasting the sun and moon, and ushering in a new era."

"Your Majesty, please show me the new heaven on our behalf."

My body sank, the icy water flooding my face, transforming into a freezing ice that froze all my senses. Within the ice, all sounds fell silent, all colors vanished into nothingness, and the endless darkness felt like death.

In the darkness of death, there seemed to be a cluster of peach blossoms looming, and a voice came from the void.

The Battle of Yashan was the final battle of the Southern Song court. The Yuan army triumphed, completely annihilating the Song army. Prime Minister Lu Xiufu carried the young Emperor Zhao Bing on his back and drowned himself in the sea. General Zhang Shijie and Grand Guardian Wen Tianxiang also died for their country.

[You should know that this is the "real history"]

Yes, this is the true history. The Song Dynasty had long since perished, and he should have died in the sea under Yashan.

What went wrong?

The Fire Saint, or Zhao Bing, was immersed in the endless darkness, looking at the peach blossoms and thinking.

As my thoughts flowed, decades had passed.

Suddenly, a sound reached my ears: the sound of a burning fire, the sound of ice melting in the flames. The coldness on all sides completely faded, and boundless warmth filled my senses.

Then he heard the sound of ice breaking.

Then he remembered.

A baby bird will remember the first creature it sees after hatching and will never forget it.

He had been dormant in the icy eggshell for sixty years. The first moment he saw the light of day again, he saw an immortal holding flames in his hands.

(End of this chapter)