The desert shimmered with rising heat as the blazing sun radiated a scorching temperature, sending wave after wave of heat across the ground as if attempting to bake everything alive. A group of travelers rode their horses steadily across the gravel and sand, the mounts whimpering under the oppressive heat.
“This desert is just too damn hot,” the leader guiding them said, opening his shirt halfway to reveal bronzed skin that seemed entirely immune to the punishing sun. The weather was simply too blistering; he would rather be scorched than suffer the stifling heat.
Fang Xu picked up his canteen and took a long, hard gulp of water. The water had already grown warm; drinking it not only failed to quench his thirst, but actually scalded his mouth slightly. “It really is hot, and it’s only early spring. Come summer, God only knows what this will be like.”
The leader scratched his hair, which had been battered and whipped out of shape by the sandstorms. Having spent his entire life living along the desert borders, his face bore the weather-beaten marks of the sand and wind. “The desert’s always like this. Without someone leading the way, you’d end up baked into a dried corpse before you could ever find a way out.”
Blinded by the glaring sun, Fang Xu muttered a curse under his breath. His once neatly combed high ponytail was already completely ruined, and his horse plodded along with a bumpy, exhausting gait, thankfully it was a fine steed, or it would have perished on the road long ago.
No one had bothered to engage with him along the way, so when the leader finally managed to strike up a conversation with Fang Xu, he grew quite excited. He shifted his horse closer to Fang Xu’s and continued, “You folks heading to Yishui City or the State of Yunchen?”
Fang Xu shot him a sidelong glance.
“Ah, well, folks in our line of work are just gossipy, love sticking our noses into everything. I’m just looking at how you all are dressed like upper-class nobility; there’s no real reason to go running out into the desert like this.”
As Fang Xu opened his mouth to reply, a mouthful of grit blew in, and he spent a good long while coughing and spitting before he felt somewhat normal again. “Just focus on leading the way. Cut the idle chatter.”
The leader chuckled good-naturedly, turning his head back to glance at the figure riding a short distance behind. “I wouldn’t have thought your young master there, delicate as he looks, could hold out this long.”
Fang Xu also turned back, narrowing his eyes as he surveyed the group trailing behind.
“That fellow Fang Xu is at it again, chatting away with strangers,” Ying Laixian muttered, gripping the reins in one hand while using the other to steady the white cloak draped over his shoulders to keep the sandstorm from tearing it away.
Jiang Ni had tied a black veil across the lower half of her face. Though plenty of sand had blown into her eyes, she didn’t even blink. “At least he isn’t holding things up. We’ve finally found someone to guide us to Yishui City. Tan Congye has likely returned by now.”
Ying Laixian felt too hot to even speak, yet he managed a faint smile. “I’m not afraid of him. If I can’t win, can’t I just run?”
“Looks like the people behind us have caught up,” Jiang Ni said, looking back. The sandstorm was too fierce, allowing her to catch only the faint silhouettes of several black specks moving across the desert.
“It’s fine. Has Tingzhong already headed back?”
Jiang Ni gave a soft assent. “She set off to return early this morning.”
That very night, Ying Laixian had returned the recovered earring to its rightful owner. To his surprise, upon seeing it, Ji Tingzhong’s expression had shifted drastically; she immediately declared she could no longer accompany Ying Laixian onward and had to turn back to investigate. Ying Laixian knew full well that something must have gone wrong over at Rouge Hamlet.
Wen Zhaolin was riding cheerfully at the rear, chatting animatedly with the youngest guide. The group had already agreed to part ways the moment they entered Yishui City.
Ying Laixian tightened his grip on the reins and picked up the pace, passing Fang Xu’s position in a matter of moments.
“My lord, care for some water?” Fang Xu shook his half-empty canteen.
Sweat poured continuously down Ying Laixian’s forehead. He reached out to wipe it away, feeling as though his entire body had been baked through. “Keep it for yourself; otherwise, you won’t have the strength to fight later.”
Fang Xu let out a laugh and carelessly drained the remaining water. Ying Laixian had arranged ahead of time for him to rendezvous with this group of guides, so he was well aware of the hardships awaiting them on this journey.
A sharp, stinging pain flared in the palm of Ying Laixian’s hand, the reins had likely worn the skin raw. He raised his head to stare into the distance for a long moment, then casually tilted his head aside just a fraction.
A whistling arrow grazed the edge of his cloak and vanished straight into the blowing sand.
“Damn it!” Startled, Fang Xu whipped out his sword.
In an instant, a horde of masked figures in black burst out from the boundless expanse of the desert, wielding sharp weapons and cutting down anything in their path with ruthless efficiency.
“They’ve caught up!” Jiang Ni vaulted off her horse, darting forward to deliver a swift, throat-slitting strike that neutralized several attackers.
A black-clad assailant suddenly lunged toward him. Ying Laixian yanked hard on the reins, and the panicked horse reared in agony, violently flinging Ying Laixian off its back.
Gulping down a mouthful of sand and dust, Ying Laixian struggled to catch his breath, coughing violently for a long moment. A sharp, searing agony racked his back; two of his ribs were likely fractured from the fall. Seizing the opening, the assailant charged straight at him with a raised blade.
Struggling to flip himself upright, Ying Laixian watched the blade close in. Instead of dodging, he reached out and grabbed the incoming weapon bare-handed. The assailant froze in shock as Ying Laixian snapped the dagger’s blade in half with his bare grip. In the next heartbeat, a flash crossed his vision, and he felt nothing more.
Hot blood spattered across Ying Laixian’s face while a numb, burning pain shot through his palm. Tilting his head against the blazing sun, he looked toward a figure standing not far away.
Witnessing the scene firsthand, Tan Congye broke into a smile. He still held a drawn bow, though for reasons unknown, this second arrow refused to leave the string.
Chen Wen looked at him in utter bewilderment. “Master. What are we-” What were they doing here? They had known the moment this Gentleman Liuyu stepped foot into the desert. Tan Congye had previously remarked that Ying Laixian was far more than he appeared, and since the men they previously sent to hunt him down were indeed under his command, anyone daring to eye Yishui City had to be eliminated.
Yet Tan Congye had delayed releasing that second arrow for an agonizingly long time. Staring fixedly at Ying Laixian’s figure, he abruptly tossed the bow aside and spurred his horse forward.
“Move. We’re saving him.”
The thunder of hooves could do nothing to drown out the oppressive heat of the burning sun, but the rising plumes of dust served as the directional beacon for this brutal skirmish.
Tan Congye didn’t even need to lift a finger; the men he brought along were more than enough.
Ying Laixian allowed himself a triumphant smile as he watched Tan Congye rein his horse to a halt right in front of him. The blistering heat wave stirred up by the mount forced him to instinctively narrow his eyes.
“I thought you were bringing me some good news, but it’s just a bunch of low-life scum. The Gentleman really does know how to cast a clever net,” Tan Congye said over the muffled roar of the stifling wind.
The young man’s silhouette was aloof and overbearing, radiating an unbridled, arrogant hostility as he looked down at Ying Laixian.
Ying Laixian managed a smile. Meeting Tan Congye’s piercing gaze and taking in his striking, aggressive features, he replied, “I only know how to cast the net; whether the catch comes in isn’t up to me.”
Tan Congye let out a cold laugh. He found Ying Laixian exasperatingly crafty. Though they had only met a handful of times, every single encounter had been deeply unpleasant, yet the other’s every word and action constantly pulled at him, dragging him along by the nose.
The skin on Ying Laixian’s lips was chapped to the point of splitting. His head swam with dizziness, likely from prolonged exposure to the sun, and his face burned with an unnatural, feverish red.
Lowering his gaze slightly, Tan Congye leaned down, hooked an arm around Ying Laixian’s waist, and hoisted him up onto the horse. “Sit still and behave yourself. If you pass out on me, I won’t hesitate to throw you straight into the sand.”
Wracked with pain all over, Ying Laixian used a fleeting moment to survey the battlefield, noting that most of the assailants had already been neutralized. Seeing Tan Congye, Jiang Ni showed no surprise; instead, she exchanged a patient word with Fang Xu before leading the rest of their party forward.
Tan Congye let out a low, cynical chuckle. “It seems the people by your side also possess rather formidable backgrounds. As I said before: either you hand over the information today, or someone’s going to be carrying you back on a stretcher.”
Quedu, State of Yunhu
“Your Highness, our scouts report that the Gentleman has entered Yishui City.” The dark guard knelt on the floor, lifting his gaze to the noble-looking man seated before him.
The man was holding a go stone, studying the board before him with intense concentration. Magnificently dressed and possessing strikingly handsome features, every gesture he made exuded an innate aristocratic refinement.
This was Zhong Xiwu, one of the Four Gentlemen and the Third Prince of Yunhu.
“Yishui City?” Zhong Xiwu flicked his wrist, tossing the white go stone casually into the air. It spun as it tumbled downward, landing precisely where it belonged with absolute precision, the crisp click echoing rhythmically through the spacious hall.
“And our people?”
“They’ve been trailing him the entire time without making a move. He’s currently settled in Yishui City, and the Gentleman doesn’t seem to have noticed.”
Zhong Xiwu let out a light laugh, dropping the final stone into place. “If he hadn’t noticed, you wouldn’t be standing here reporting to me right now.”
The dark guard shuddered involuntarily. “You mean.”
“He may be the youngest of the four of us, but he received Master’s teachings the earliest. Master’s calculations have never missed their mark—don’t you think Laixian is the same? If he wanted to conceal his tracks, he would never allow outsiders to trace them.”
A cold sweat prickled down the guard’s back. “Should we continue tracking?”
Zhong Xiwu stated quietly, “My imperial father is advancing in age, and the succession debate has dragged on for over a year now. Yunhu has always valued merit over primogeniture. What kind of ‘merit’ do you think matters most?”
The guard couldn’t fathom why the conversation had abruptly shifted to politics while discussing the Gentleman. Having served by Zhong Xiwu’s side for years, he knew all too well that royal affairs were not his place to discuss.
“This subordinate does not know.”
Zhong Xiwu smiled. “Neither do I. The world is full of brilliant minds, and looking at the current state of the court, my eldest brother not only commands immense prestige, but his influential family background serves as his greatest backing. Yet Laixian delivered this game straight to my doorstep, laying out the entire board himself. All I have to do is walk the path he paved, and that throne will eventually be mine.”
“Your Highness,” the guard warned cautiously, “you must not speak so recklessly.”
Walls have ears, especially within the imperial palace, where one could never truly know whose loyalty the person standing beside them belonged to.
“In this world, you have to voice your ambitions before you can act on them. The imperial court is like that, and the martial world is no different, just like this sudden rumor regarding the Changye Temple treasure. Who can truly see through the fog? I’m afraid even the one pulling the strings can no longer see the board clearly.”
The guard murmured, “The court remains in the open. Though Your Highness is caught in the middle of it, you are uniquely positioned to step away if needed. If you can harden your heart and cast aside the virtues of a gentleman, this trap can be broken. Yet with the current game already set, matters of the martial world are bound to entangle the Gentleman. Both the person holding Your Highness’s heart and the matters concerning it are trapped within this very board.”
The virtues of a gentleman had always been the defining praise of the Drunken Jade and Waning Mountain.
Zhong Xiwu knew very well that some riddles, no matter how tangled they appeared, were actually laid out plainly in the open. The destruction of Changye Temple had happened twelve years ago, and Ying Laixian had remained in Yunhu for twelve years. Those clues that martial artists had spent years hunting down only suddenly surfaced the moment Ying Laixian departed Yunhu.
Perhaps some people would never understand the connection between these events, but Zhong Xiwu understood it completely.
“Keep following,” he said softly. “As long as he doesn’t tear down the facade, keep following.”