Jiang Ni halted her steps at the corner of the alley.
Throughout this journey of escape, whether to stop or proceed, and if stopping, how to fight—whether with a fleeting touch or a battle to the death—had always been Xu Fengnian’s call. Tonight was no exception.
Xu Fengnian emerged slowly from the alley and surveyed the street. As expected, when one prepared for the worst, things often turned out exactly that way—it saved both worry and effort. The best-case scenario would be Li Mibi and Tuoba Pusa arriving half a day late. The average outcome would be the two having already abandoned him, this mere bait, and retreated. Xu Fengnian sighed, then cast a complicated glance at her.
Jiang Ni simply waited in silence for him to continue.
Xu Fengnian spoke softly, “This time, we won’t follow the old rules. We’ll have to focus on killing that old dog Li Mibi. All those previous battles targeting Tuoba Pusa were just a smokescreen. Now that Tuoba Pusa has regained some strength and is dead set on leaving, without Xu Yanbing and the others to intercept him, we won’t be able to stop him. But as we agreed, if the worst happens, you retreat first. I’ll cover you.”
Jiang Ni neither agreed nor disagreed. After a moment’s hesitation, she asked, “Do you know why the Northern Mang are so at ease with Gu Jianyang guarding the eastern front?”
Xu Fengnian countered, “Isn’t it because they’re certain the Liyang court won’t make a move?”
Jiang Ni sneered, “Is it really that simple?”
Leaning against the wall, Xu Fengnian murmured, “Intelligence reports did mention that a faction in Tai’an City couldn’t restrain themselves and boldly suggested the border armies of the two Liao regions shouldn’t just stand by. They proposed coordinating with Northern Liang, though not as reinforcements, but to seize military merits like Yuan Tingshan did in Ji Province. However, such voices were swiftly suppressed by Gu Jianyang. Among them, Xu Gong, who was touring the border as a vice minister, initially strongly advocated for war but suddenly switched sides, refusing to mention any offensive actions. This earned him much criticism in Tai’an City, and his already modest reputation plummeted. Some even vowed to keep him as a border vice minister for life. The Fu Shui Fang only knew that Lu Shengxiang sent an urgent eight-hundred-mile dispatch to the capital, straight to the imperial study. But as for the contents of that memorial, even the Fu Shui Fang couldn’t uncover it.”
Jiang Ni hesitated, then fell silent.
Xu Fengnian smiled faintly. “Better not say it. I’ll just assume there’s an unexpected factor on the eastern front. After all, the fate of the two Liao regions is beyond my control. If the eastern front collapses, it’ll be Gu Jianyang’s headache.”
Jiang Ni didn’t answer directly. Instead, she asked, “Who do you think hates Gu Jianyan the most in this world?”
Xu Fengnian was taken aback. “Gu Jianyan earned his place among the Four Great Generals of the Spring and Autumn Period through his achievements in conquering nations. The Southern Tang barely fought, but his campaigns against Eastern Yue were remarkable. The ones with deep-seated hatred for him should be the remnants of Eastern Yue.”
He mused to himself, “But even the Eastern Yue royal family was long subdued. Most notable generals were already dead, and the Eastern Yue civil officials were the first to submit to the Liyang Zhao court, becoming pawns in the early power struggles between Zhang Julu and Gu Jianyan. Especially in the Censorate and the five branches of the Ministry of War, nearly half were of Eastern Yue origin. The most infamous father-son censors spent a decade impeaching Gu Jianyan’s Ministry of War annually. But honestly, these people were just scratching Gu Jianyan’s itch. He might even welcome their criticisms—it helps him stay in power. A general in the field never fears petty complaints from court officials; what he fears is having too pristine a reputation.”
Jiang Ni scoffed.
Xu Fengnian suddenly exclaimed, “Ah!”
She raised an eyebrow. “Figured it out?”
Xu Fengnian nodded.
Jiang Ni curled her lip dismissively.
Xu Fengnian said, “It’s Wang Sui, isn’t it?”
Her eyes widened.
Xu Fengnian blinked. “Really?”
She shook her head vigorously.
Xu Fengnian sighed in exasperation.
—
Two riders galloped toward Snow Lotus City. The clatter of hooves on the cobblestones was drowned out by the city’s nocturnal clamor. A few drunkards hunched outside a tavern, vomiting freely, barely glanced up at the two shadowy figures passing under the dim lantern light. One of them, feeling a sudden urge, spewed toward the riders. After emptying his stomach, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, only to feel another wave of nausea. As he doubled over, he noticed something odd—his vomit was tinged with red. Before he could react, his head slammed onto the ground, never to rise again.
The white-haired rider, Li Mibi, cast a cold glance at the corpse. His companion, the weary-looking Tuoba Pusa, said nothing. Had their roles been reversed, he might have lashed out too. Two grand schemes—first to kill Yan Wenluan, now Xu Fengnian—had failed, costing the Northern Mang half its elite martial artists. The once-sprawling spy network stretching from the Southern Court to Northern Liang lay in tatters. Even the most composed man would seethe with rage.
Li Mibi seemed to realize his lapse and chuckled self-deprecatingly. “Great King of the Northern Court, indulge me in one last gamble. I bet Xu Fengnian won’t settle for a draw. He’ll take the risk and wait for us here in Snow Lotus City. Xu Yanbing and Tantai Pingjing will arrive in six hours. If Xu Fengnian shows himself and deliberately baits us, no matter how perfect the opportunity seems, I’ll withdraw and return north. We’ll leave before Xu Yanbing arrives.”
Tuoba Pusa nodded. For him, their thousand-mile duel had ended with that flying sword. He could accept defeat—there would always be another game. This battle had honed his mind and skills, though it had also sharpened Xu Fengnian’s edge. Their next clash would be deadlier, and Tuoba Pusa knew it. But Li Mibi had saved his life, so he humored the shadow chancellor’s southern pursuit. He wouldn’t nurture a rival for the sake of a duel. If he could kill Xu Fengnian now, he would, without hesitation. As he’d told Xu Fengnian, the martial world meant nothing to him. His ambitions lay in conquering the Central Plains, becoming the foremost founding hero of the new Northern Mang, and securing his place in history as the unparalleled “Martial Emperor.”
Li Mibi gazed at a towering pavilion where moonlight and lantern light vied for brilliance. He remarked, “I’ve heard the Great King of the Northern Court disdains pretentious elegance, yet you collect a calligraphy piece by Yuan Fengshen, a founding hero of the Great Feng Dynasty. Later generations love ranking historical figures, and Yuan Fengshen—praised by the Great Feng emperor as the ‘Great Wall of the Border’—is often overlooked due to his untimely death. Even the arrogant Huang Sanjia once lamented two military regrets: Yuan Fengshen and Wang Sui, the young prince consort who shouldered a nation’s fate. Both were men of unmatched potential, thwarted by fate.”
Tuoba Pusa felt neither fondness nor dislike for Li Mibi. In Northern Mang, few could afford such indifference—the late Northern Court King Xu Huainan, the successive Southern Court Kings Huang Songpu and Dong Zhuo, certainly couldn’t.
Li Mibi sighed. “I’ve never cared for the martial world, perhaps due to my youth spent traveling the Nine States of Spring and Autumn. Every state sought to recruit martial artists—Chu treated them as caged birds, Southern Tang as courtyard swallows. Later, Liyang even bestowed embroidered carp pouches, a blunt message: you’re just fish in the Zhao family’s pond.”
Rubbing his hands, Li Mibi chuckled. “All these years, I’ve been like a fisherman, tending the imperial pond. No wonder the Liyang folk boast—they have Li Chungang, Wang Xianzhi, Deng Tai’a, Cao Changqing, and now Xu Fengnian leading a new generation. We Northern Mang lack true martial heroes. Four of our five great sects are the empress’s lapdogs. You’re a general, Hong Jingyan is the Rouran leader, and the only notable ones—Huyan Daguang and Luo Yang—fled to Liyang. Even you, our Martial God, had to tour Liyang’s martial world before the war, visiting Mount Hui.”
Tuoba Pusa was surprised. Li Mibi had always been a man of few words.
Li Mibi continued, “The Northern Exodus at the end of Spring and Autumn benefited us, but many exiles still dream of returning south, even in death. Like Xu Huainan, I’m an exile—but unlike them, I’ve never longed for home. There’s a medicinal plant called dandelion, whose seeds drift far and root wherever they land. Where they land becomes home.”
Though Tuoba Pusa avoided Northern Mang’s internal strife, he wasn’t blind to the tensions. Li Mibi’s implications were clear—for years, the northern clans had suppressed the rising southern elites with slander and suspicion. Coming from the spymaster himself, this was alarming.
Slowing his horse, Li Mibi said gravely, “I’ve done two things: tend the pond and sweep the courtyard. The latter meant catching butterflies that emerged in foreign lands. I enjoyed it, but with little success. Even the empress grew skeptical, especially after Xu Huainan’s death. She regretted not parting on better terms and resented me for my suspicions, which allowed that Xu boy to take Xu Huainan’s head and shame the court. But I sense something—after twenty years of digging, I’ve found no roots, but there must be snakes hiding deep, waiting.”
Tuoba Pusa frowned. “If even you can’t find them, how could they pose a threat after twenty years?”
Li Mibi smiled wryly. “I’m no strategist like Taiping Ling, nor a visionary like you or Dong Zhuo. I focus on the dirt under my nose. It’s a habit—I must understand what’s right before me, or I can’t sleep. While others eye Tai’an City and the Central Plains, I watch the rising and falling clans. There’s one question I’ve wanted to ask but couldn’t. Today, just us two—may I?”
Tuoba Pusa said solemnly, “Ask.”
Li Mibi’s tone turned icy. “Has no one but me ever considered that Northern Liang might win, and Northern Mang might lose?”
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage