Xu Fengnian pointed expressionlessly at the corpse of Yelü Canglang lying in a pool of blood. “To put it bluntly, the fact that he could appear here and speak or act on behalf of Yelü Dongchuang means that regardless of whether Yelü Dongchuang truly harbored any murderous intent toward me, doing business with your so-called ‘more prone to failure than success’ Crown Prince is utterly unreliable. If you were in my shoes, Princess, what would you think?”
She bit her lip so hard it bled, yet she seemed unaware.
The young Prince of Liang’s question left the not-so-foolish Northern Barbarian Princess speechless.
No one present was a fool, and she neither wished nor deigned to utter insincere words.
Even if Yelü Dongchuang had indeed intended from the start to kill two birds with one stone by using another’s blade, compared to the incompetent Crown Prince of the Northern Barbarians, whose trusted aides had been successfully turned by his mortal enemy, the former was still the more suitable business partner.
After all, this was no ordinary transaction involving mere hundreds or thousands of taels of gold and silver, nor dozens or hundreds of official positions, nor even the command of two or three hundred thousand soldiers.
This concerned the fates of Northern Liang, the Northern Barbarians, and the Liyang Dynasty—two nations and one land.
The entire world, in the truest sense.
Only those with the ambition, power, cunning, and destiny of a true overlord could meddle in such affairs. Anyone else would merely become a laughingstock.
Throughout history, only the wolf-hearted and ambitious have had the right to vie for the world!
In truth, her very presence here already made her the biggest joke of all.
Yelü Canglang’s knife, the assassination attempt by the tea-serving maid—were these not all declarations by the ambitious young Yelü Dongchuang, flaunting his overwhelming power on the steppe to all of Northern Liang and Xu Fengnian?
As for her? A mere pawn played by the great figures—what right did she have to sit as an equal before this young man surnamed Xu?
She curled her lips into a bitter smile.
For years, she had believed that the Northern Liang Iron Cavalry, which had inflicted so much suffering on the Northern Barbarians, had been handed to this young man by Chen Zhubao—a condescending gift from the White-Clad War Saint.
But now, as she watched this young man who had remained composed and jovial throughout, that hidden conviction in her heart wavered.
At that moment, a figure even more pitifully out of place than the Northern Barbarian Princess in the pavilion stirred.
Song Yu appeared like a ghost beside the sole remaining standing Kheshig guard, who raised his hands high, keeping them as far from the saber at his waist as possible to show his submission.
When the young guard met the Prince of Liang’s gaze, he swallowed hard and stammered, “The Crown Prince asked me to relay a message to Your Highness.”
Xu Fengnian nodded.
Then the Kheshig guard uttered a baffling phrase. Bai Lian Xiansheng, seated in the pavilion, tilted his head slightly and smiled at the young Prince. The others, however, were utterly confused.
The words were indeed absurd and undignified.
“His Highness wishes to ask Your Highness: in your Wutong Courtyard, are there more wutong trees or purple bamboos?”
Though many in the Northern Barbarian court, whether from the Northern or Southern Dynasties, were curious about the new Prince of Liang, for the nominal second-most powerful figure in the Northern Barbarians to take such an interest in a mere Wutong Courtyard was… utterly frivolous.
The Northern Barbarian Princess felt both exasperated and disheartened.
The reason she had been chosen to lead this southern expedition was not only her familiarity with Northern Liang but also her family’s high hopes for the Crown Prince—or rather, their belief that he was a rare commodity worth investing in.
After mustering the courage to deliver the message, the young Kheshig guard felt as exhausted as if he had fought on the battlefield for a full day and night, his legs weak and his body drained.
Xu Fengnian paused, then chuckled. “Tell your Crown Prince that if the opportunity arises, I will invite him to count them himself in the Wutong Courtyard.”
If he survived this and returned to the Northern Barbarians, he vowed to tell everyone he knew:
The young Prince of the Xu family was every bit as awe-inspiring as his father, the Butcher of Beiliang.
Truly a martial arts grandmaster on par with the Steppe War God, Tuoba Pusa! The very man who had forced General Yang Yuanzan to die in bitter defeat at Hulu Pass!
The steppe warriors had never been merciful to weak enemies, but they never withheld their respect for those they truly acknowledged as strong.
His elders had once told him: the greatest difference between the steppe and the Central Plains of Liyang was that the scholars of the latter never respected their adversaries, yet had no qualms groveling when at another’s mercy. But the men of the steppe were different—no matter how displaced their ancestors had been, no matter how formidable the enemies pursuing them, they had always marched forward like wolves!
This young Northern Barbarian, whose blood thrummed with reverence for martial prowess, felt not only fear but also excitement.
Among the prestigious Kheshig guards, who didn’t have some royal or noble connection? Every one of them held their heads high—but who among them could claim to have witnessed the demeanor of this legendary figure in person?
If not for the fear of being struck down on the spot, the young guard would have stepped forward for a closer look.
In the lakeside pavilion, the Northern Barbarian Princess, who had already resigned herself to failure, suddenly brightened. Unable to suppress the excitement in her voice, she exclaimed, “Your Highness?!”
Xu Fengnian nodded, then shook his head. “I have not agreed to ally with your Crown Prince. However, I am willing to give him another chance—provided he can offer something more substantial than Yelü Dongchuang.”
Her eyes gleamed with confidence. “That won’t be a problem! As for what I have on hand, would Your Highness care to take a look first? I assure you, you won’t be disappointed.”
Xu Fengnian teased, “I’ve already had quite enough ‘disappointments’ today. No need to rush, Princess. Let Steward Song escort you to General Yang’s residence for now. Some matters cannot be settled in a few words, and I, too, need to deliberate with others.”
She sheathed her dagger, stood, and donned her veil once more before leaving the pavilion—a place that might one day be remembered in history books.
Less than an hour later, walking side by side with the seemingly gentle and refined Song Yu, the Northern Barbarian Princess Qingluan’s state of mind was worlds apart from before.
Song Yu remained as courteous and warm as ever.
After leading her to a quiet courtyard, he bowed and took his leave.
She pushed open the door gently, while the young Kheshig guard lingered at the steps, about to retreat to the side room.
Suddenly, she asked, “What did the Crown Prince mean by those words?”
The sole surviving guard hesitated, perhaps having come to regard her as a comrade in adversity, before answering beyond protocol: “Princess, I truly don’t know His Highness’s deeper meaning. This isn’t an excuse—I’ve pondered those words countless times on this journey to Northern Liang, yet their mystery eludes me.”
She said nothing more, pushed the door open, and closed it behind her.
Removing her veil, she leaned against the door and nearly collapsed to the floor.
Today’s events—the pavilion by the lake, the layers of schemes, the twists and turns—had left her utterly drained.
As a woman far removed from the Northern Barbarian court’s inner circle, she had been stretched to her limits since Yelü Canglang’s attack. To have maintained her composure until now was no small feat.
For some reason, images flashed through Princess Qingluan’s mind.
First, the grandfather and grandson.
The dark-skinned, gaunt Yelü Dongchuang, whose snow-white teeth gleamed whenever he spoke.
And his grandfather, Yelü Hongcai, with his deeply lined face always smiling at everyone, revealing sparse yellow teeth.
Then, the face she could never forget—the handsome, ever-silent man in white from her memories.
Finally, the pale, feverishly determined face of the Northern Barbarian Crown Prince as he cautioned her before her departure.
She gasped for breath, her chest heaving.
Closing her eyes in agony, she found herself inexplicably recalling another face—the one from the lakeside pavilion.
Her eyes snapped open, and she gritted her teeth. “If only that knife had plunged into your eye instead of Yelü Canglang’s neck—now that would have been satisfying!”
※※※
The uneasy Deputy Military Commissioner Yang Shenxing circled the table, glanced at the dead female assassin sprawled across it, then clasped his fists and bowed his head solemnly. “Your Highness, I, Yang Shenxing, bear undeniable responsibility for this oversight. I willingly accept punishment without complaint!”
Xu Fengnian waved a hand dismissively. “This is no fault of yours, General. Ultimately, the fact that she infiltrated this residence in the first place falls on our Liangzhou intelligence networks—the Falcon and Rain-Sweeper branches. But my second sister oversees them, and I dare not complain to her. As for Chu Lushan, that thick-skinned fellow wouldn’t care if I scolded him a few times. So, in truth, both you and I are the most blameless here.”
Yang Shenxing refused to raise his head.
Yang Huchen, who had first inspected the western borders of Ji Province as its deputy general before secretly entering Liangzhou under the escort of Northern Liang’s Falcon spies, spoke up: “Father, we all know what kind of man His Highness is. There’s no need for such pretenses.”
The old general of the Spring and Autumn Era, accused of “pretending” by his own son, immediately glared at Yang Huchen in outrage.
Yang Huchen wisely avoided further provocation, quickly raising his wine cup to clink it against Bai Lian Xiansheng’s tea bowl.
The corpses of the Kheshig guards in the pavilion and the lake, along with the dead assassin from the Princess’s Tomb, were swiftly removed by the residence’s nimble attendants—particularly a seemingly delicate young maid who, despite her frail appearance, carried the tea-serving girl’s body as effortlessly as if it were a bolt of silk.
Yang Shenxing returned to his seat, paying no heed.
Whether the maid belonged to the Falcon or Rain-Sweeper branches, or how many other spies lurked unseen in the residence, the old general—a veteran of half a lifetime on the battlefield and another half in politics—couldn’t care less. In fact, he found it only natural that such people were embedded in the Commissioner’s residence.
The deeper one entered the marquis’s mansion, the more treacherous the waters.
What high-ranking household in the world was any different?
Yang Shenxing seemed to hesitate.
With the green-ant wine gone, Xu Fengnian took up the role of tea brewer, matching the skill of the now-deceased assassin.
Yang Huchen watched in amazement.
As Xu Fengnian poured tea for Yang Shenxing, he said lightly, “Speak freely, General. The Xu and Yang families are now allies, sharing both glory and disgrace. Bai Lian Xiansheng here is our witness.”
Yang Shenxing smiled knowingly. “Then I’ll be blunt. Judging by today’s events, that long-underwhelming Crown Prince of the Northern Barbarians doesn’t seem like someone who can be propped up. The ministers clinging to him must be in for quite the headache.”
Xu Fengnian chuckled self-deprecatingly. “In my younger days, I was even worse than that Crown Prince. Back then, as the heir apparent, I didn’t even have a single ‘loyal minister’ willing to lend a hand.”
Yang Shenxing’s expression turned awkward.
Yang Huchen, rarely seeing his father humbled in front of others, didn’t bother hiding his amusement.
Xu Fengnian sipped his tea leisurely. “Of course, while my circumstances might seem similar to that Crown Prince’s, they’re actually quite different. I’ve been far luckier.”
Yang Shenxing pondered briefly before nodding in understanding. “Indeed!”
Yang Huchen, too, sobered, sighing sincerely. “Most only know of Yishan Xiansheng’s reputation as the ‘Venomous Strategist,’ simplistically viewing him as just another advisor to the Xu family, unaware of his unparalleled mastery of military affairs!”
Bai Yu also nodded slightly, lifting his gaze to the lake beyond the pavilion. With a faint smile, he murmured, “Yishan Xiansheng… I, too, admire him deeply.”
Xu Fengnian watched the flickering flames of the stove in silence.
Rising, he walked to the vermilion pillar and pulled out the white-hilted saber sheathed in golden peach bark, then bent to pick up its scabbard and slowly sheathed the blade.
His thoughts drifted to the Listening Tide Pavilion, home to countless martial arts manuals.
In his heart, he whispered:
*Master, if only you could have lived ten more years.*
*I would have fought for that throne for you, trading the python robe for the dragon robe.*
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