The sky was overcast today. The winter sun hid behind a thin veil of clouds, leaving only a sharp white halo visible.
A convoy of carriages and horses traveled along the winding dirt road at the edge of the fields. When they reached the foot of the mountain, the light carriages could go no further, so Xun Rongbi switched to a sedan chair.
Xie Ci lifted the curtain, supporting Xun Rongbi as he slowly stepped down from the carriage and settled him into a wicker chair nearby.
Once outside the city, the northwestern wind grew suddenly fierce, whipping their cloaks. Xie Ci returned to the carriage to fetch a thick wool blanket, draping it over Xun Rongbi and tightly wrapping his frail, stooped body.
From beneath the blanket, Xun Rongbi extended a hand, clasped Xie Ci’s, and stroked it. “Cold? Put on more clothes.”
Xie Ci was not dressed heavily — only a black captain’s armor beneath a thick crimson cloak. The wind blew it open, revealing broad shoulders, a lean waist, and long, strong legs encased in black armor. His hand was warm; youth’s blood ran hot.
Xun Rongbi’s expression was more somber today, yet as he looked up at Xie Ci, a gentle, gratified smile spread across his face. “Little Fourth has grown up. Soon you’ll be able to stand on your own.”
“Mm.”
Xun Rongbi patted his hand with satisfaction. Xie Ci returned the grip.
“So Uncle must take care of himself, so I can honor you properly in the future.”
Xun Rongbi was delighted: “Good, good!”
Joy and sorrow mingled in him. He nodded repeatedly, then turned to gaze at the distant mountain, forcing himself to steady his emotions.
“Let’s go.”
“Alright. Uncle, if you feel cold, tell me.”
Xie Ci tucked his uncle’s hand back under the blanket, then fetched another to hang from his saddle. Mounting his horse, he rode ahead as two guards lifted the sedan chair. The party followed the mountain path toward the tomb.
Xun Xiao’s grave lay in the hills, said to be on a sunny slope.
But today there was no sunlight. The halo of the sun was hidden behind thick clouds. In the winter moonlight all things lay desolate — the yellow‑brown earth and mountains, the black bare branches of trees, scattered patches of lingering snow upon them.
The northwestern wind blew dry and cold, and once they entered the mountains it grew piercingly sharp. The sounds of farmers covering their fields with straw faded behind them. The mountains were cold and silent; only the cracking of brittle branches breaking under the wind could be heard.
Xie Ci scanned the path ahead. His back, arms, and every muscle in his body tightened even more than before.
The procession moved forward. The mountain road was narrow; Xun Rongbi’s sedan chair was carried before him. With each step, the faint smile at Xie Ci’s lips gradually disappeared, the warmth in his eyes silently extinguished. In truth, his heart was filled with vigilance and suspicion, reaching its peak the moment they entered the mountains. Though he had just tended to his uncle with care, speaking gently with him, Xie Ci’s back muscles had remained taut the entire time.
In such a place, reason easily overcame emotion. Since leaving the city, silent caution had consumed his thoughts. Xie Ci did not want to die — he absolutely could not die. His father and brothers had died unjustly, still waiting for him to clear their names. He had only just begun to take the first steps toward that goal.
He could die — but only after completing everything. Not now. Gu Wan was waiting for him. His mother, his family, his father and brothers, Gu Wan — the weight of them all pressed upon his heart, heavy enough to crush any other feeling.
His uncle’s kind face and caring words were close at hand, yet Xie Ci’s heart was half burning hot, half icy cold. His whole body trembled under the clash of violent emotion and the possibility of mortal danger.
It was as if something rolled heavily across his chest, grinding him down. Yet another part of him remained utterly calm. In this fusion of fire and ice, Xie Ci was like a bow strung to its utmost tension.
If this was a trap, what should he do?
Xie Ci’s dark pupils slowly shifted. The brown‑yellow hills covered with patches of snow, the black branches of trees of varying heights, the thickets of withered thornbushes stretching endlessly, only at the far edge of sight dotted with a few evergreen pines and cypresses. The winter mountains of Suzhou were just as he remembered — bleak and vast.
He thought: if that was the case, then he should strike first — find the most suitable, most advantageous place, and break the trap himself, rather than be led into an ambush.
The mountain wind howled, icy cold. Xie Ci’s blood boiled in an instant, his fists clenched tight. If he were being overly suspicious, then after today he would kneel, confess all his dark suspicions to his uncle, admit his fault, beg forgiveness. If his uncle wanted to beat or scold him, he would kneel in the front courtyard and accept it all.
But if…
Xie Ci touched his waist, gripping the hilt of his blade. Everything was happening faster than he had imagined.
Xun Xiao’s tomb could not possibly be deep in the mountains. The Xun clan’s ancestral home was Haozhou, but having long been rooted in Suzhou, Xun Xiao’s grave, like those of other generals who had died in Suzhou, was buried in the soldiers’ cemetery.
Xun Xiao was laid to rest in the newly opened eastern section, at the highest, outermost edge. A sheer cliff rose to the west, its pines gnarled and ancient. In the depth of winter, the wind there was especially fierce, whistling past the cliff face.
To the east lay rows of graves, old and new, encircled by cypress and pine. From Xun Xiao’s tomb, looking westward, the land dipped into a hollow embraced by low hills — a terrain like the bottom of a cauldron.
After the rites, they would wait for the incense and candles to burn out. Xun Rongbi, frail as he was, would surely need a rest. And that cauldron‑like hollow, sheltered from the wind, was the perfect resting place.
The journey was far shorter than expected. In barely the time of a cup of tea, Xie Ci had ridden up to the cemetery. One glance around, and that cauldron‑shaped hollow leaped into view.
The sky was gray and dim, thornbushes rustled, and the western hills loomed like a dark mouth opening silently. In that instant, every hair on Xie Ci’s body stood on end.
The Xie family’s innate military instinct flared. Xie Ci suddenly turned his head — he saw the Governor’s guards dismounting one after another. Some swept the area, some set out incense and offerings, while the rest, just as along the road, formed ranks before and behind, surrounding in vigilance.
The orderly bustle pressed upon his heart like heavy footsteps.
Xie Ci abruptly looked up. Diagonally ahead stood Long Shouren, and behind him the cliff where the north wind howled. The cliff rose more than ten zhang high, a lone pine clinging to its summit, and above it the gray‑white sky where clouds drifted with the wind.
A solitary wild goose beat its wings, flying south alone.
Without hesitation, Xie Ci snatched the longbow from his saddle, seized an arrow, and loosed it — whoosh! The shaft split the wind, shooting straight at the lone goose.
Thud! It struck true.
Whether it was a “signal arrow” or a “cup cast,” such gestures were well‑known signals in the army to initiate action. If there were treachery, these neatly uniformed guards would surely be as tense as he was, outwardly calm but inwardly taut.
The moment Xie Ci’s arrow flew, every soldier instinctively straightened. The small broom sweeping the graves paused. The incense and offerings being laid tipped over. Some even reached for their sword hilts before hastily disguising the motion. It was like a jammed tape — a brief pause, then everything resumed again.
“Little Fourth, what are you doing?” Xun Rongbi, supported by his guards, had just risen from the wicker chair. A guard shook out a thick black fox‑fur cloak and was fastening the clasp at his neck.
Xun Rongbi’s upward glance halted. He turned his head toward Xie Ci and asked.
Staring at that kindly old face — still familiar, yet subtly changed — Xie Ci felt a chill rise within, slowly wrapping around his heart.
Xie Ci shifted slightly. His black horse tossed its mane uneasily, stepping westward a few paces. He pulled the reins tight; the horse neighed, then finally calmed. In truth, Xie Ci had retreated farther back toward the cliff wall. He said to Xun Rongbi: “A lone goose crying above the tomb — not an auspicious sign. But my elder cousin rode the battlefield; I imagine he would not shy from blood.”
“Is that so?” Xun Rongbi’s lips twitched. His kindly expression looked as if coated in wax.
After this exchange, an indescribable tension spread silently between them. The next instant, the answer was revealed!
Someone clapped their hands. A mellow male voice commanded: “Enough talk — strike!”
At the order, dozens of guards and soldiers dropped what they held.
Shhhk! Long blades were drawn, and they swiftly closed in, forming a circle.
At the edge, one tall, inconspicuous soldier tore away the false beard and mud from his face. A swipe of powder revealed his true features.
Tall and lean, his stride steady and assured, hawk‑like eyes and sharp nose, gaze piercing, about twenty‑five or twenty‑six years old. With a faint lift of his brow, he stepped forward from the rear. Wherever he passed, the guards parted to either side, then closed ranks again. Soon he stood at the center, commanding the scene. This man was none other than Xie Ci’s true second cousin — Xun Xun!
He raised his hand. Beyond the immediate circle, outside the range of human hearing within half a li, seventy or eighty fighters in tight gear came rushing in.
It turned out Xun Xun had prepared a deadly arrow formation in the western hollow, determined to kill. A pity it had not been used — but the formation was only a safeguard. Since it was unnecessary, it was discarded.
Xun Xun’s gaze was sharp, his presence commanding. Everyone obeyed this young man’s orders — except for a few of Xie Ci’s familiar faces, longtime guards of Xun Rongbi. They now drew their blades, clustering tightly around Xun Rongbi, wary not only of Xie Ci but also of the other Governor’s soldiers at their side.
In an instant, from kindly brows and gentle words to being thrust into a desperate trap. It took only a single breath!
At the sudden sight of Xun Xun, Xie Ci was struck with shock and fury. In that moment, he understood everything.
Rigid, consumed by a grief and rage that cut to the bone, he slowly turned his head toward Xun Rongbi — the uncle who had been like half a father to him. His voice was hoarse: “Why?”
He and Gu Wan had examined carefully. The shackles on Xun Rongbi’s wrists, the scars of imprisonment on his body, were no forgery. He had truly been confined in a sealed chamber, near death. To set a trap, was the sacrifice not too great? And could he truly have foresight to know more than a year ago that Xie Ci would one day escape and succeed?
But all these doubts were nothing compared to the overwhelming surge of betrayal and grief. Though he had prepared himself countless times, even loosed an arrow in readiness, when it truly happened, Xie Ci still could not believe it. A tidal wave of fury engulfed him, drowning him in an instant. He was like a wounded lone wolf, eyes torn wide in rage.
So it was truly to trick him into revealing the whereabouts of the Xie family!
Xie Ci cried out, his voice raw: “Why? Tell me why?! Why did you frame my father and brothers?! The Xie family has already been destroyed; killing me should be enough — why must you wipe us out completely?! My mother — is she not your own sister by blood? Did you not travel thousands of li, weary and dust‑covered, just to see her once, to make sure she was truly safe and happy?!”
Xie Ci had never forgotten. When he was very young, running back along the corridor, his mother had just given birth to his younger brother. Men were not allowed inside to visit, but he saw his uncle standing beneath the window. Though he knew he could not see anything, he still craned his neck to gaze at the dim lamplight within.
That moment — the stern back clad in black armor, paired with the tender, careful gesture, lantern light casting a soft glow over his head and shoulders — Xie Ci remembered forever as a scene of deep warmth.
It was precisely because of such moments that, though Xie Ci remained cautious and guarded, he was unwilling to believe his uncle had truly betrayed the Xie family. Even as he searched and watched, a small part of him still thought about how, afterward, he would confess his suspicions, beg forgiveness, and find a way to make amends without wounding his uncle’s heart.
Now Xie Ci’s hatred burned to the core.
Xun Rongbi’s face darkened. He did not answer. His gaze was evasive, tinged with both shame and ferocity, as he turned his head away from Xie Ci’s eyes.
“I’ll tell you.” Xun Xun sneered, his eyes cutting coldly through the crowd toward Xie Ci, then toward the aged elder with drooping brows and a shadowed face. “It was nothing more than mutual benefit. I need him to remain Governor of Suzhou for another two years, and he wants a chance to turn the tables. That’s all there is to it.”
“The letter was written by him. The envoy was received by him.”
It was merely a struggle between father and son, and once again he had been forced into the weaker position.
“Because he had no choice! Your uncle — in his heart, the only thing that ever mattered, the only thing that will ever matter, is himself!”
“Yes, he loved his sister, he loved his nephew, he was close to the Xie family as though they were one household — but in the end, none of that outweighed himself! All his life, was he not most skilled at sacrificing kin for his own sake under the banner of righteousness?”
Xun Xun’s voice was cold with hatred, his face twisted with scorn: “Do you know how he returned after being captured by Beirong, in the Kunyu Ling court?”
“He won the favor of Princess Rilian, changed his identity, married her, and became her consort. In six years he fathered two sons and a daughter, finally earning the Kunyu Ling king’s trust. And then, within a year, he lured the Kunyu Ling army into Great Wei’s ambush. The entire Kunyu Ling force was annihilated!!”
“And he — he personally killed Princess Rilian, along with everyone in her palace who had ever known him, even his own children! He wiped out every witness to his past. Then he re‑emerged as the hero who had endured seven years of humiliation in Beirong, only to turn traitor and deliver an unprecedented victory — Xun Suwu!”
“Hahaha! He returned triumphant, stepping over the blood of the Kunyu Ling army and Princess Rilian’s household, famous and honored! Killing wife, killing children — a Great Wei general and meritorious minister. Tell me, is that not laughable? Hahahaha!”
Even with his heart full of hatred, Xie Ci was shaken to the core. He whipped his head toward Xun Rongbi. His uncle’s face twitched, shadowed and utterly disgraced.
Could he refuse submission? Why did he not dare to speak out? This was the root cause!
“This man — as long as the scales tip toward himself, all kinship, friendship, lifelong bonds are nothing but dung!”
“Not just one Xie family — even ten! Not just you, Xie Ci — even his own sister before his eyes, he would kill without hesitation! Hahaha! Isn’t it ridiculous? Xie Ci, aren’t you bitterly disappointed?”
In an instant, from kind words to utter peril.
Xun Xun shouted fiercely: “You don’t need to look elsewhere — the culprit is him! Without him, none of this could have happened. Xie Xinchong would never have led troops out of the pass at midnight toward Lantian Plain without cause!”
Xie Ci stared hard at Xun Rongbi. His uncle’s face shifted through gloom, shame, and finally ferocity, glaring at Xun Xun, who had exposed him before all. Xie Ci’s heart plunged, sinking into a bottomless cold abyss. Rage erupted like a volcano, pouring out uncontrollably. His teeth ground together in fury.
“Enough! I’ve said it all. Now you can die knowing the truth — no need to thank me.”
Xun Xun laughed harshly, his brows sharp: “Xie Ci, prepare to die! The Xie family does not need to leave behind a grown male heir!!” His wild laughter cut off. Before the tomb, the air turned instantly murderous.
Today Xun Xun had chosen only his fiercest warriors — men worth ten each — including his own death‑sworn guards and hidden assassins. This was a siege meant to kill without escape!
From the far edge of the cauldron‑shaped terrain, archers appeared, rushing in formation. Xie Ci’s arrow at the goose had bought him a sliver of time, but he had to break free before the archers arrived. Otherwise, his life was finished!
Hot blood surged to his head, yet his mind was colder than ever. Before the tombstones, the slaughter began at once. He leaped forward — blood sprayed across the brown earth.
Under the wheel of attack, Xie Ci threw back his head and let out a long howl. With his left hand, he drew the spare blade at his side.
Clang! Iron chains rattled violently. His left‑handed sweep sent the blade flying free of its hilt, slicing across, cutting down seven or eight men in the inner ring. Blood spurted from severed necks, the stench of iron filling the air.
Xie Ci’s spare blade was in fact a chain‑knife — the hilt connected to the blade by a long iron chain. His body was struck and slashed; rip!
The leather armor tore open, revealing beneath it a tightly woven inner mail of three full layers.
All of this had been crafted by Gu Wan, who had secretly taken raw materials from the camp armory and refashioned them.
Blades scraped against the chain mail, sparks flying, but none could pierce through the triple layers!
Xie Ci judged swiftly and precisely. After cutting down the inner ring, he let out a sky‑shaking howl. He leaped upward, straight toward the cliff. Long Shouren gritted his teeth, raising his great blade to meet him.
Clang! The sharp clash of iron rang out. Long Shouren’s tiger’s mouth split open; though proud of his strength, he felt a force like mountains splitting, crashing down from above. Under Xie Ci’s full strike, he was driven to his knees. Xie Ci killed him with a single blow!
Perhaps Long Shouren had once been conflicted, but in the end he aided the traitors, becoming the executioner who lured Xie Ci and the surviving Xie family into the deadliest trap.
“You’ve mastered the chain‑knife technique?!” Xun Xun drew his long blade and entered the fray himself. His face changed in shock and fury.
Years ago, Xun Rongbi had personally hired a famed master of knife techniques for Xie Ci. That master, proud to the extreme, agreed to teach only Xie Ci. His signature skill was the chain‑knife. That man had been a prodigy, yet only achieved mastery in his mid‑twenties.
Xun Xun had never imagined that Xie Ci would conjure a chain‑knife on his own, and that his mastery of the technique was already complete!
Fury and astonishment mingled. As Xie Ci swung, blood sprayed from the blade’s edge. He stepped on Long Shouren’s head, leaping with all his strength toward the cliff! In mid‑air, he found a moment to strike again.
To his left was Xun Xun, to his right Xun Rongbi. With a fierce shout, he swung the chain‑knife without hesitation to the right!
Xun Rongbi’s eyes bulged: “Kill him! Quickly, kill him!!” He shoved his guards forward, throwing himself back with all his strength. But the chain‑knife’s edge caught him at the last instant. The blade flashed like snow — swish! — and he felt a sudden chill at his neck.
Xun Rongbi was horrified. He clutched his neck, feeling hot, sticky liquid gush out. Looking down, his hands were covered in crimson — it was the blood from his throat!
Xie Ci’s eyes blazed with ferocity — and at that moment, the archers finally arrived!
“Loose—!”
Arrows whistled like rain, shooting down like a swarm of locusts. No matter how strong the chain‑mail armor was, it could not withstand such a storm of arrows. He shielded his chest and back, but his head and neck were exposed.
One round of arrows, and death was certain!
But just then, a clear female shout came from the clifftop: “Xie Ci, catch this!”
A tough vine, its end tied into a cloth loop, was hurled down from above!
At the same time, a basket of firecrackers was tossed, crackling and sparking as it fell and releasing thick black smoke. “Behold my poison smoke!!”
Her shout startled everyone below. The entire formation, even the archers, fell into sudden confusion.
Xie Ci seized the critical moment, grabbed the cloth loop, and with the vine’s pull, leaped upward, vaulting onto the cliff top.
He swung himself onto the horse behind Gu Wan. She yanked the reins at once: “Go!”
The firecrackers were nothing more than crushed pine resin and cow dung — a bluff, not real poison.
At the last possible instant, Gu Wan had managed to rescue Xie Ci. Exhausted, she spurred her horse, lashed the whip, and they fled!