White robes fluttering

"Boom, boom, boom, boom," the drumbeats were like thunder, making the ground beneath our feet tremble.

As the drumbeats subsided, the whistling sound began.

The soldiers inside roared in unison, each shout louder than the last, as if they were making the most fervent vows of their blood to the ancient gods.

They marched in formation, arrayed like mountains and seas, with swords, spears, axes, and shields arranged in neat rows.

The sight was so terrifying that even Ah Qiu, who was the enemy, felt his hair stand on end and was deeply shocked.

An earth-shattering force swept in, reminiscent of their ancestors galloping across the vast grasslands, invincible in their path.

But as his entourage drew closer to the altar, Aqiu lost all interest in appreciating the grand spectacle of the thousand-person battle formation.

Xiao Chang'an and Gongyi Xiu in the group must have felt the same way.

The best opportunity for the assassination would have been during the entrance dance. But now, of course, all plans were abandoned.

The legion surrounded Hulü Jin, remaining firmly in front of, behind, and to the sides, their movements—whether dancing or swirling—never straying from his side. Approaching him for an assassination became impossible.

His only hope now lies in the surrender ceremony after the sacrificial ceremony to Heaven concludes.

However, the space will then shift to the main hall, with more restrictions and a limited number of people allowed to enter, making victory even less likely.

A long, distant roar, like the cry of a dragon, resounded and shook the heavens.

As the whistle rang out, all the advancing legions on the field immediately lowered their guns, turned around, and stood still.

The once bustling scene suddenly fell into utter silence.

In the midst of this silence, a person dressed in flowing white robes, holding a Qiang flute and wearing a black bird mask, rose leisurely from the top of Deyang Hall.

That is the one who played the dragon's roar.

It turns out that he had been lying on the eaves of the palace roof, looking down at the grand dance of "Breaking the Formation".

When A Qiu's gaze fell upon that person's figure, he was secretly shaken.

At the same time, she also heard her senior brother, Gongyi Xiu, who was hidden in the crowd, gasp.

The person appearing before them at this moment was their master, the master of Lanling Hall, also known as Tuoba Han, the Northern Qiang National Preceptor Wanqiqing.

She should have realized that Wan Qiqing, as the national advisor and the one who orchestrated this situation behind the scenes, would not be absent from the grand ceremony of offering sacrifices to Heaven to establish the new dynasty, which was declared by the Northern Qiang as the unification of the world.

The words Wan Qiqing left behind when he departed from Jinlingtai flashed through his mind: "Three months from now, the Northern Qiang delegation will bring a military dance called 'Breaking the Formation Music,' which I personally choreographed. I hope your Southern Dynasty can handle it."

It turned out that at that time, Wan Qiqing did not tell the whole truth. On the one hand, the Northern Qiang sent Huli Guang as an envoy, and on the other hand, they were already mobilizing troops across the country to march south.

The music of "Breaking the Enemy's Formation" was ultimately presented to her, but in a way that reversed her role, in the Deyang Palace of Luoyang, the capital of the world, before the people of the Northern Qiang. At this moment, she was no longer the high-ranking and powerful Grand Musician of the past, but merely an unnamed dancer representing the Southern Dynasty's surrender.

Faced with the pressure of a massive formation of a thousand people and the presence of Wan Qiqing, A Qiu's original confidence finally crumbled completely.

Even if she could break through the barrier of the thousand-person formation in the hall, A Qiu was not confident in facing her master, Wan Qiqing. After all, she was trained by Wan Qiqing, and Wan Qiqing, as the head of the Lanling Hall who trained countless assassins, was undoubtedly a first-class grandmaster in dealing with assassinations in this era.

She couldn't help but look behind her at the dancers dressed in neat black and white costumes with red belts.

Fortunately, none of the people in the group showed any unusual behavior; perhaps the uniform masks concealed their inner emotional changes. Each person maintained a solemn and composed demeanor, remaining completely undisturbed by the deafening drumbeats and the Northern Qiang military dance in the arena.

Even Xiao Chang'an and Gongyi Xiu fell silent immediately after saying that sentence, quickly adjusting their mindset.

Even with his familiarity with them, A Qiu couldn't recognize where they were in the group.

Perhaps Gu Yi already has a foolproof plan.

A Qiu had no choice but to place her last hope in her faith in Gu Yi.

Since meeting Gu Yi, he has almost never suffered a defeat, nor has he ever acted rashly. The current situation, whether he gains more or less, should all be within his calculations.

Perhaps it was the atmosphere of the whole team that calmed A-Qiu down as he stood among them.

After a while, she suddenly understood the reason.

Standing in the first row alongside her were four authentic Yuefu (musical ballad) inheritors: Sun Neiren, Xue Hongbi, Zhang Exu, and Cui Luzhu.

They knew nothing of the true purpose of their trip, but were prepared to sacrifice themselves if anything unexpected happened.

Therefore, all the changes in the situation had no effect on their mindset. Neither the imposing presence of the thousand-man army nor the sudden appearance of the Imperial Advisor Wan Qiqing mattered to them.

Furthermore, due to the sacredness of the music and dance ceremony, Sun's wife had already led everyone into a state of "breathing adjustment" and "concentration" while waiting for the performance, in accordance with the principles of previous stage performances.

The dancer's breathing is different from that of the warrior; it involves silent prayer, aligning with heaven and earth and the gods, and immersing the whole being in the space at that moment.

All that is visible is the external scenery, and all that is seen are ordinary people. No one is beyond the eye's notice, but no one enters the heart.

No matter how majestic the Northern Qiang's "Breaking the Enemy's Formation Music" was, or how godlike Emperor Huli Jin's appearance was, in the eyes of the Southern Dynasty dancers waiting to perform, it was like the waves and the wind, coming and going as it pleased, phenomena changing, birth and death on their own.

This is also the mindset that performers of "Shao" and "Wu" should have.

Fearless of earthly emperors, undaunted by the lords of myriad nations, and regarding thousands of armies as mere weeds. In the universe, only the formless Way is the greatest, and the formless virtue is the most revered.

The dancers will use their bodies to express and interpret the order of this truth.

This was the first time A Qiu had sensed the invisible aura emanating from Sun Neiren.

That was completely different from that of a martial artist; it was non-aggressive, gentle and righteous, yet capable of overwhelming the entire arena with its continuous power.

The source of this power was Sun Neiren, and it gradually emanated from the center of the formation of sixty-four people.

At this moment, the rhythm of the drums in the arena has changed to the melody of the Qiang flute, its sound powerful and melancholic, full of tension and dynamism like the siege of Gaixia and the neighing of the Hu horses.

Dressed in white robes and wearing a black bird mask, Wan Qiqing held a Qiang flute and stepped into the center of the arena, circling the arena with peculiar footwork.

This is a shamanic step called "Yu Bu".

With each step he took, intentionally or unintentionally, he caused the giant dragon in the arena, composed of a thousand soldiers, to move with him. It was as if its heart was at ease and its soul was intoxicated, swaying its long body and obeying the command of the flutist, moving forward and backward, and dancing.

The people in the arena were not only the thousand performers, but also the nearly ten thousand subjects who watched and participated in the festival.

The Northern Qiang people were all filled with fanaticism, shouting "The chosen one of Heaven!" "Heaven bless our people!" Their roars were so loud that they shook the ancient palace.

At this point, even A Qiu had to admit that the Northern Qiang were indeed a people of warriors, and the wildness and violence etched in their blood were another kind of enormous and cruel force.

But she would never forget that this barbaric force had crushed half of the Han-ruled territory, driving all those who considered themselves orthodox Han people south of the Yangtze River.

But even among these fervent subjects, there were a few faces that remained unmoved.

Those were the faces of Han Chinese officials and common people.

To be precise, it was a blank look on their faces, a reluctant attempt to agree, a genuine lack of that deep-seated spiritual resonance.

"Breaking the Enemy's Formation" praises the bravery and skill of the Northern Qiang warriors and the protection of the Northern Qiang gods. However, for the Han people, it represents the humiliating and bloody history of conquest, and the Northern Qiang gods lack affinity and familiarity for them.

Wan Qiqing played the Qiang flute lightly, and looking in the direction, he saw a giant dragon made up of an army coming towards A Qiu.

Ah Qiu's heart tightened for no apparent reason.

This was likely just a routine procession around the area, with cheers and shouts erupting from all the onlookers as it passed, praising the emperor and the gods.

But for some reason, she sensed that Wan Qiqing's attention was already focused on this side.

This was purely a feeling of almost telepathy that she had developed after being raised by Wan Qiqing for many years.

The first thought that came to mind was: Could it be that Wan Qiqing has discovered her?

Her second thought was to immediately reassure herself that it was absolutely impossible. Since neither Gongyi Xiu nor Xiao Chang'an, who had traveled with her along the way, had noticed her, Wan Qiqing, who had just arrived here, had even less reason to notice her.

Wan Qiqing, dressed in flowing white robes, walked and blew as he went, and in a flash he was in front of her, his sharp eyes sweeping over her.

A Qiu felt a chill run down her spine, and her body involuntarily tensed beneath her loose clothes. This was the instinctive reaction of a master when being watched.

At that moment, she was caught in a dilemma.

If one does not raise one's guard and be ready to strike at any moment, it will be difficult to prevent Wan Qiqing from recognizing her and attacking immediately.

However, if he adopts a defensive posture, even if Wan Qiqing did it unintentionally, it might trigger Wan Qiqing's suspicion and make him notice something suspicious or unusual.

Caught in this dilemma, she felt a cold sweat trickle down her spine, instantly soaking her back.

Just then, a soft murmur rang in her ear.

It was Sun's wife's steady and gentle chanting, each word clear and melodious.

"Therefore, the grandeur of music is not due to the ultimate sound. The ritual of feasting is not due to the exquisite taste. The zither in the ancestral temple, with its red strings and sparse, resonant sound, evokes three sighs with each note, and thus retains its lingering melody."

Although Sun's wife did not know martial arts, she recited the poem in the style of singing, each word peaceful and upright.

"...Therefore, the ancient kings established rites and music not to satisfy the desires of the mouth, stomach, ears and eyes, but to teach the people to balance their likes and dislikes and return to the correct way of humanity."

The chanting stopped.

Beneath the mask, his expression was unreadable, but A Qiu instantly saw Wan Qiqing's eyes suddenly flash as if struck by lightning, followed by an expression of utter disbelief.

Even the sound of the Qiang flute echoing in the arena paused for a moment.

His gaze had long since left A Qiu and was now fixed on Sun Neiren.

That deep gaze revealed a bewilderment, a sense of seeing an old friend yet knowing it wasn't them.

Even if Sun Neiren wore a mask, would Wan Qiqing recognize her and remember her?

A Qiu finally understood why she had attracted Wan Qiqing's attention. It wasn't because Wan Qiqing recognized her, but because on the entire sacrificial platform, this was the only area that didn't tremble in the slightest because of his Qiang flute music and drumming.

Even if her body instinctively alerted her, it wouldn't draw Wan Qiqing's attention too much, because apart from Sun Neiren and the other three, everyone else here knew martial arts. In addition, there were many other soldiers and martial artists from both the Han and Hu ethnic groups present.

What truly caught Wan Qiqing's attention was that there was a unique thousand-man army formation here that did not submit to him.

During the Han Dynasty, the emperor was honored with the Eight-Row Dance, with sixty-four dancers forming a line—the highest level of dance and worship. Even in later women's banquets and folk music, it was rare to see more than a hundred people participating simultaneously. To perform a military-style dance with a thousand participants was, in the history of dance and music, enough to demonstrate power and prestige throughout the land, inspiring later feudal lords to follow suit.