Qianye cast a cold glance at Ma Zhong, then suddenly picked up a steel nail and drove it deep into his thigh.
As Ma Zhong screamed in agony, Qianye spoke in a steady, unhurried voice, “This is the price you pay for betraying me. Now tell me the truth: who are you, and what exactly is the cargo—or rather, the deal?”
The man spoke rapidly, “I really don’t know what the cargo is! I was just the contact assigned to meet the delivery person, then escort them through to the pickup zone, where another designated person was supposed to receive it instead. But the rendezvous spot has already been destroyed.”
Hearing about the rather complicated delivery arrangement, Qianye furrowed his brow. Intuitively, he realized the precious scrollstone letter inside his robes probably wasn’t just an ordinary piece of correspondence.
“So you’re working for whom exactly?” Qianye asked again.
“I serve the Egret Legion; we’re part of an influential faction stationed in the You’nan Territory.”
Hearing that name, Qianye’s thinking came briefly to a standstill.
Though still nominally part of the Empire’s territory, in reality, the greater part of You’nan Province had broken away from imperial rule—serving as one of the most troubled regions actively controlled by the rebels in open defiance of the Empire. Officially known as the so-called Egret Legion, they were nothing more than rebels.
Qianye had not anticipated that Song Zining’s trading partner had turned out to be the insurgent enemy! By imperial law, trading with such elements was even graver than colluding openly with Shadowborn Clans.
Rebel factions had plagued the land for centuries now—the Empire has attempted repeated campaigns of extermination, yet they continued like a hydra that would neither stay dead nor cease to spread. Hardly a single corner saw the flames of conflict subside than a new flareup appeared anew on different soil. In recent years things have taken a further turn in favor of the rebels, particularly on the western mainland where they’ve grown increasingly stronger, prompting military high command to redeploy the famous general Lin Xitang himself, just to try restoring some precarious balance, albeit far from a conclusive, clean up.
Though Qianye had seen traces of troubling realities behind rebel lines when out on missions with the Red Scorpion, for the most part these were merely footnotes compared against the sight of his fellow imperial soldiers betrayed by rebel back stabbings while they battled viciously, toe to toe, against Dark Clanners out on the battlefield—and this is exactly why he harbored instinctual, strong negative emotions toward rebels in general.
Forgetting that mental discomfort as best he could for now, Qianye turned over the more suspicious aspects of this incident in his mind and then cast his gaze upon the black-suited woman nearby. Seeing the lack of surprise on her face, Qianye figured Ma Zhong had already confessed all he wanted (and quite possibly, everything he possessed in way of secrets to be spilled).
Apparently Ma Zhong held a Major’s rank with the Rear Logistics Division of the Egret Legion. The “Uncle Lin” he had earlier blurtly referenced worked as his direct superior —a Deputy Commissioner in the logistics bureau. The destroyed hideout was part of a two-year, supposedly secure route for illicit trade. Despite his position, he himself had known very little about their foreign trade contacts—only enough to know its supposed end-user was one prominent, powerful arms enterprise back in the Qinglu territory.
Though Ma had a minor, liaison role even in such exchanges, the party actually set to receive delivery would actually only consist of one more Major—named Chen Lu.
A woman in her late twenties possessing level 7 combat capability. She’d already spent fully ten years in You’nan Territory, her post considered relatively important—though her official rank was low, she served as a technological specialist tasked with acquiring and maintaining proprietary power arrays for arcane firearms.
That is also why afterward, even knowing the stakes seemed so perilously high, a thin glimmer of hope still existed for Ma Zhong, thinking maybe rescue troops were yet on their way from rebel headquarters somewhere nearby.
Hearing all this, Qianye turned toward the woman in jet-black clothing, “Was Chen Lu caught as well?”
“The only survivors after that hideout fell—all were dragged back to central intelligence already.” As she answered, she quickly added, “This all happened three to four days ago. I’m sure by now anyone lucky enough to still be alive has probably divulged what they weren’t even meaning to say…”
Qianye gazed steadily at the darkly-draped woman whose poise had returned somewhat now and smiled, unexpectedly replying, “And yet still—you don’t have any knowledge even as to who I exactly am. Let alone any clue whatsoever what was actually supposed to be delivered tonight. In effect, if I simply up and vanished here with no word—well then… all this would be… nothing but a fantasy, wouldn’t it?”
She shot him a sultry smile again; this time though there was some real vivacity in her expression: “Although quite extraordinary you’ve proven, you’d have a tough time facing down the entire Ghost Web organization. I wouldn’t even get into other complications: The regional warlord that controls this part is a seasoned battle-command master in the martial realm. With your youth and your great talents… you really must be made aware how much of a bright future you should cherish above all else. So please consider… giving up?”
Qianye laughed again faintly, appearing almost as if momentarily swayed before shifting his gaze to Ma Zhong instead. Seeing their brief exchange made the latter’s face begin showing signs of dread, and his lips trembled slightly as he opened his mouth, attempting some kind of speech—
Yet Qianye beat him to the punch: “I still find him troubling. According to his own confession, though lacking precise knowledge over trade details, he’s bound to create other problems.”
The dark-dressed woman hesitated for only a moment—”While our patron specifically ordered that we take him in alive… well… considering he’s already confessed most useful pieces, maybe eliminating him really matters not at all.”
The woman, for her life safety, had continually suggested from her initial attempts at the downstairs hall onwards that Qianye better think long-term preservation above all, thus repeatedly suggesting, subtly, how thoroughly they did NOT possess clues regarding Qianye’s true history nor cargo in his personal possession. Now as she observed signs of Qianye wavering, she was far past concern for client requirements—comparatively speaking her personal security now weighed far, far heavier in her mind.
Ma Zhong however turned pale: This actually being his first hearing regarding specific instructions from those masked clients of the enigmatic delivery team; far worse still—that chilling realization struck deep into his marrow that said shadowy cargo agent who had deftly breached Ghost Web’s layers of tight encirclement intended… to kill his inconvenient little face to cover up all evidence.
“No! No you can’t! Don’t!” Ma roared wildly.
Qianye’s eyes swept over Ma, chilling and expressionless, making the latter literally tremble to see it:
“If this trade corridor is compromised because of failures on your own incompetence then, to be clean… better make it definitively severed!”
“There’s more—a secret that’ll save your judgment I bet!” Ma yelled out in desperation:
“Hm! Interesting—I’m intrigued,” Qianye spoke coolly.
Ma Zhong trembled with emotional upheaval, breathing becoming labored from all the strain as he cried, “Just…first release me from this pain, release me!”
Qianye’s eyes briefly gleamed with unknowable thoughts, before yanking out the nail pinning his opponent with the efficiency one might strip a sheet back, bare-fisted against iron.
Ma Zhong flopped onto the ground hard, panting for while longer than normal before gasping out between breaths:
“Chen Lu… was actually one of Song Family members; she may very likely share Song as birth surname.”
Instantly across Qianye’s consciousness something snapped—a hunch flared so fast it nearly escaped him—but instinctively this confirmed his hunch this wasn’t simply driven purely by commercial gain. Which meant their unknown employer wanted the goods stolen… while plotting even further objectives under the cloak.
The heart to this mystery? That mysterious double-agent Chen Lu.
“Song Family?” Qianye arched an eyebrow faintly, while glancing meaningfully over at the woman in black. The latter, locking stares with Qianye, abruptly turned pale as ever before—terror reflected within her own eyes surpassing the earlier fright, as she herself for the first time just learned this. Being an operative of the secretive Death Veil itself, she realized the terrible cost associated merely with hearing the name of such a powerful dynasty, particularly involving an influential House, such as Song itself.
Meanwhile Ma’s eyes were locked on Qianye like a drowning man searching for his salvation at the end’s desperate edge.
From the lack of expression on Qianye’s visage he could tell little—fearful at not being believed—Madly nodding:
“It’s the Song—there’s absolutely no doubt. I personally, accidentally, watched Chen Lu in conversation with someone whom I had earlier known once in the East Continent as just one senior steward in the family of Song itself. Ever since… well, I found time twice to shadow her… once hearing snippets of conversation that left no room for uncertainty.”
The ramifications of such intelligence carried enormous possibilities.
The Song Family—known as one of the four great noble houses and the bulwark of imperial aristocracy—was traditionally in opposition against rebel movements by every stance and standard. So if one of their most senior eyes was indeed planted secretly amid the rebels, exposure would certainly mean a death sentence for the individual—and possibly worse for the House itself, in terms of exposure and unraveling of entire intelligence networks.
Yet the situation clearly wasn’t as simple as it sounded—as matters now strongly seemed, Song Zining was using this clandestine rebel trade line for his own dealings. Discovery risked the capital charge of treason.
Qianye spoke evenly: “Now, this information really worth its weight in silver—for the right leverage at least.” If indeed Ma had used such intelligence as leverage—extorting her—he stood a real chance at gaining benefits and blackmail gains accordingly. Ma hesitantly confirmed:
“Well I intended, but I hadn’t managed in time… just hadn’t yet found the moment…”
Then suddenly Qianye interrupted: “Who exactly had you decided to sell her to?”
“Didn’t—” He blurted instinctively. Suddenly recalling something, his pupils contracted—horrified realizations flooding him again.
Seizing upon said thoughts within the other man’s gaze, Qianye added further: “Tell me… do you know *why* specifically has Ghost Web spared your life then?”
Clearly—the initial motivation might have purely focused upon robbing the goods. But having captured the official end-user representative, what possible use was left for Ma Zhong, who otherwise knew *everything that he could be forced to reveal* about that end-shipment, other than keeping him alive as… evidence to implicate someone further up the pipeline—the very colleague of Ma’s itself… Major Chen Lu?
Ma’s face turned even darker as the color of uncertainty spread across his expression, his eyes flickered back and forth, opened as if he wished protest—but no voice emerged. As yet again the terrible indecision gnawed on him…
His mind hadn’t quite caught what happened, but an ice-cold blade slid swiftly along his throat as darkness took over.
The black-veiled woman shivered uncontrollably and cried in horror, nearly screeching, “What have you done!” Her composure had shattered. The image of Qianye’s calm hand drawing a hidden dagger through Ma Zhong’s windpipe—the precise movements that never wavered, that mechanical perfection of his—sent uncontrollable shivers running through her.
“There’s nothing of any real purpose with him alive—everyone becomes expendable with such men. Anyone.” Qianye’s tone remained unemotional, though his internal self struggled to suppress an overwhelming flood of irritation rising.
Truth had become increasingly immaterial in that moment; what exactly led to Qianye to be right here in the here and now—what led Ma into his fate—mattered less than the unfolding picture he could sense looming above.
The conclusion laid clear as daylight—Song Zining indeed might already have found himself caught, possibly in the worst kind of entanglement of forces—some powerful shadowy force wasn’t contented merely with breaking their trade connection anymore, they wanted captured personnel to use against him. Song’s personal life could even be on a thin thread of hanging rope now—possibly even more in danger.
Qianye slowly exhaled, collecting his senses then lifting eyes once more toward the black-clad spy beside him, asking, “Now tell me, tell me everything you can—where lies *your local headquarters here in the field.*”
“You can’t possibly hope to defeat the Ghost Web.” She made one more desperate attempt at convincing or bargaining.
A red hue flickared along Qianie’s blade. His refined yet beautiful visage remained half-lit through the gloomy ambiance:
“There yet still exists someone barely alive inside the lower hall—another person barely gasping upstairs. Someone perhaps higher up… than even you.”
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