A faint horse neigh echoed from the distance.
I tightened my grip on the Xuanwu Blade, my heart sinking. There was nowhere to hide in this valley—certainly nowhere that could conceal both me and my great black horse. I had not slept all night, and my stomach was hollow with hunger.
I remained seated on the rock, my palms slick with cold sweat against the hilt of my blade. Straining to catch every minute sound in the air, my mind raced to form a judgment: one person, one horse. From the light, controlled footsteps, I could tell the newcomer was a martial artist.
A dark figure finally appeared at the bend of the mountain path, followed by a magnificent black steed. Seeing me from afar, the figure paused. I felt the tension in his body beneath his supple robes instantly dissolve. He seemed to let out a quiet sigh of relief before resuming his pace, his face set in a stern mask. Those green eyes, shimmering with a strange light, remained fixed on me as if I were a mountain sprite that might vanish into thin air at any moment.
I relaxed my grip on the blade, a slow warmth spreading through my chest.
"Hi," I said, offering him a genuine smile. "It’s a fine day for an outing."
Feng Tong ignored my sincere greeting entirely. He stopped a few paces away, surveying me with a haggard expression that suggested I was a massive headache he didn't want to deal with.
"How can you expect a fugitive to dress like a noblewoman?" I rolled my eyes at him and held out a hand. "Got any food?"
Feng Tong untied a cloth bundle from his saddle, sat down beside me, and stuffed it into my arms without a shred of gentlemanly grace. I didn't care about his attitude; I tore the bundle open, caught a rolling cherry-apple, and swallowed it in three bites before I could even peel it.
Feng Tong frowned. He snatched the next fruit from my hand and lowered his head, peeling it with a brooding intensity, as if he were picking a fight with the skin itself.
"Do I owe you money?" I asked, tearing into a piece of dried meat and glancing at him. "Or did someone else stiff you?"
Feng Tong ignored my questions, his brow still furrowed as he peeled the fruit.
"What are you so grumpy about?" My mood had lifted, so I didn't mind his strange behavior. This man had always been an enigma, impossible to read.
He handed me the peeled fruit, glanced at his juice-stained fingers with a scowl, and muttered, "You knew my people were looking for you, didn't you?"
I blinked. Was he angry about that? With his intelligence, how could he not realize I simply didn't want to involve him? Before I could formulate an answer, he grabbed the cloth wrap and wiped his hands, his impatience growing. "I have four pieces of news, some good, some bad. Which do you want first?"
I thought for a moment. "Rank them by how important you think they are."
Feng Tong straightened his back, his gaze drifting toward the far reaches of the valley. His voice was flat. "Ming Shao..."
"Skip that one," I interrupted quickly. "Go to the next."
Feng Tong turned back, his eyes searching mine. "Truly? You might regret it."
I shook my head. The dried meat in my mouth suddenly tasted like bark, impossible to swallow. I avoided his gaze, unable to explain that I didn't want to hear Ming Shao’s name from someone else. I couldn't talk about him with an outsider as if it were nothing, because I couldn't bear the reminder that I had truly lost him.
Seeing my silence, Feng Tong sighed softly. "Then the second: your father has been placed under house arrest."
My heart gave a violent thud. "What do you mean?"
"Word is that someone entered the palace to assassinate the Emperor," Feng Tong explained, choosing his words carefully. "The Emperor was reportedly injured and has been sent to the Yimeng Pavilion to recover. Prime Minister Han is currently acting as regent—supposedly at the Empress Dowager's behest. He obtained intelligence from somewhere claiming the assassin was your accomplice. Despite the Seventh Prince’s attempts to defend your father, the Prime Minister still confined him to his residence on the grounds that he 'cannot escape responsibility.'"
My nails dug deep into my palms, yet I felt no pain. A searing heat, like molten lava, erupted within me, scorching every nerve. I wanted to scream, but only one name escaped through my gritted teeth: "Han Gao!"
Feng Tong took my hand, prying my fingers open and lacing his own through them, squeezing tight. "Listen to me. Though your father cannot leave his estate, he is in good health, and your family is safe. I’ve sent supplies inside, and no one interfered. I have people positioned there. Don't you trust me?"
Tears welled in my eyes, but I forced them back.
Feng Tong wouldn't understand. My current state wasn't just guilt for involving my parents; it was regret. I had never regretted anything so much—why, in all the years of my upbringing, had I not loved them more intentionally? I had selfishly accepted their care, always identifying as 'Xia,' rarely remembering that in that home, I was first and foremost Ji Wuchao...
Feng Tong gripped my hand tighter, as if trying to pour his strength into me. His voice dropped an octave. "The worst news: Han Gao has issued a nationwide warrant for your arrest on charges of treason. If you resist, it's 'kill on sight.' General Han Jiang, who is heading to Qizhou for the troop rotation, is leading thirty thousand elite troops from the Lutai Camp to scour the six northern prefectures. He will reach Qizhou the day after tomorrow at the latest."
He stopped and looked at me, his expression tinged with worry.
"Is there no good news at all?" I sat up straight and withdrew my hand. "You said there was good news."
Feng Tong relaxed slightly. "There is. Your three masters are all at the Valley of Ten Thousand Poisons. They heard about your situation and are already on their way."
"Really?" No wonder Master Rong Qin and Uncle Qiu hadn't arrived in the capital; Master Feng must have kept them at the valley. But...
Feng Tong seemed to read my concern and tilted his head with a self-satisfied smirk. "They are traveling with a Fengyun Fortress merchant caravan heading for Yaocheng. They’ll be fine."
"Yaocheng?" I paused. "The Yaocheng in the Kingdom of Meng?"
Feng Tong shot me a look of mock offense. "It’s the Fengyun Fortress's Yaocheng. We bought it ten years ago." He raised a hand to stop my further questions. "Time is short. My carriage is waiting outside the valley. Ask your questions when we reach Yaocheng."
I grabbed his sleeve. "I only have one question for you."
Feng Tong turned, looking at me with confusion.
"How exactly did you find me?"
"By tracking the corpses of the soldiers, of course." Feng Tong looked smug, like a child who had won a prize in a game. "Don't worry, the army won't follow. They aren't as fast as I am."
***
On a map, the Kingdom of Meng was shaped like a giant water droplet inverted along a north-south axis. Yaocheng sat at the very southern tip—the point of the droplet. To the north of this border town, which had a population of less than forty thousand, lay the largest river in the north: the Xiro River, which originated from the Xian Snow Mountains. The Xiro flowed from north to south, serving as the natural border between the Iron Dragon Tribe and the Kingdom of Meng. North of Yaocheng, it veered east, cutting across the entire Great Chu Empire before emptying into the sea at Liaozhou.
With the Xiro River as a natural barrier, Meng’s border defenses had been stationed on the northern bank for generations. This lonely little town on the southern bank held neither strategic value nor economic advantage; it wasn't surprising that the Fengyun Fortress had been able to purchase it for a high price. The previous Master of the Fortress had used Yaocheng as a trade hub between Yantian and Meng. It was said that the suggestion had originally come from Feng Tong’s mother, Liao Bing—the youngest daughter of General Liao Xian of Meng—a brilliant woman with a natural gift for commerce.
However, four hours ago, Yaocheng had been renamed East Yaocheng by its new owner. The golden wolf-fang banners of the Fengyun Fortress, symbols of the path to wealth, had been lowered. In their place rose the first city flag of East Yaocheng. The flag was black and rectangular, with a length-to-height ratio of three to two. In the center, a red horizontal stripe and a golden vertical stripe crossed perpendicularly.
When Feng Tong saw my design, he had asked what it meant. I told him: black symbolizes impartial justice; the red horizontal line symbolizes ideals and passion; the golden vertical line symbolizes wealth.
Another flag was being rushed into production—a bright red banner embroidered with the crossed scepters of the Aro King, a design I had seen on the murals in the cave.
Proclamations to reassure the citizens were posted throughout the streets early that morning. This was thanks to the high efficiency of the Fengyun Fortress.
Most residents didn't care that Yaocheng had become East Yaocheng, nor that it had a new master. They cared that the regulations and benefits related to their livelihoods remained unchanged. The merchants flocking here from various nations didn't mind either; they saw what they wanted in the proclamations: not only were trade regulations untouched, but their taxes had been reduced by twenty percent.
The initial slight unrest quickly faded from East Yaocheng. Even the old proprietor of the "Drunken Village Tavern" excitedly gifted a jar of fine rice wine to every table.
Feng Tong and I sat by the window on the second floor of the tavern. He watched the old proprietor’s jubilant face, eventually shaking his head in disbelief. "That old miser from Great Chu has never been this generous. You certainly know how to win people over."
I raised my teacup to him and lowered my voice. "Don't worry. Sooner or later, I will return a better Yaocheng to you."
Feng Tong clinked his wine cup against my tea, though his expression suggested he didn't take my words seriously. "A sale is a sale. Do you think I’m a merchant who doesn't keep his word?" He took a shallow sip and looked at me, puzzled. "But I still don't understand. Why did you insist on buying Yaocheng? I told you I could lend it to you for free. There was no need to buy it. Didn't you say Qizhou was what you really wanted?"
"I changed my mind." I picked up my chopsticks, dipped them in tea, and drew several circles on the table, explaining softly. "This grape represents East Yaocheng, the Ghost-God Ravine, and the unclaimed territories between the four nations. This apple below the grape represents the six northern prefectures of Yantian, including Qizhou and Bingzhou. This watermelon to the southwest of the apple is the heartland of Yantian..." My chopsticks traced the path between the grape and the apple, stopping at the junction of the apple and the watermelon. "This is Chixia Pass. The terrain on both sides is steep and desolate—perfect for a defensive line."
I looked up at Feng Tong. The confusion on his face was slowly turning into shock.
"Do you see? The grape plus the apple." My chopsticks traced their borders, my voice dropping even lower. "That is what I want."
"Are you mad?!" He jumped up.
I clamped my hand over his mouth and shoved him back into his seat. I glanced around; the patrons were busy speculating about the new Lord of East Yaocheng, and no one noticed his outburst.
"I said I wanted Qizhou," I whispered, my hand still over his mouth—I didn't want his shout to startle everyone. "But look for yourself. Bingzhou is less than ten days from Qizhou. It also holds Yantian’s largest iron mine. If I don't take it and the northern six prefectures, Qizhou and East Yaocheng won't hold once the Yantian army counterattacks. We must fortify Chixia Pass." I looked at him earnestly, waiting for his response.
Feng Tong gazed at me with a hint of bewilderment. His emerald eyes were so clear they made one want to reach out and touch them.
Without a word, he pulled my hand away from his face and spread it open before him. I knew my hands weren't beautiful; years of wielding a blade had left them calloused. Yet he studied them as if they were a mysterious treasure map, his intensity making me self-conscious.
I pulled my hand back, steadied myself, and continued. "That’s why I had to buy East Yaocheng. I need a legitimate identity. Otherwise, no matter how much gold and jewels I have, the King of Meng would never lend me troops."
Feng Tong looked at me hesitantly, as if my words had far exceeded his expectations. "Why do you insist on Qizhou, or even half of Yantian? You have East Yaocheng now. You could live a peaceful life here, raise children..." He paused. "Is it for revenge?"
For a moment, I didn't know how to answer. Perhaps because Qizhou and Bingzhou held the happiest fragments of my life, subconsciously, I wanted to grasp those memories firmly in my own hands. Furthermore...
"Han Jiang is Han Gao’s man. I cannot let Han Gao control Qizhou," I said slowly. "Controlling Qizhou is equivalent to controlling the six northern prefectures, which means controlling half of Yantian’s military power. If Marshal Chu De loses this struggle, the Sixth Prince and my father will be in true danger." I clenched my fist and pressed it hard against the table. "I cannot let that happen!"
There was another reason I couldn't voice. I couldn't simply take the Aro King’s treasure and live a life of comfort. It didn't belong to me. If I did that, I believed I would be struck by lightning. That wealth should be for more people—like the beaten slaves on the murals, like people as homeless as I was...
"I can't hide in East Yaocheng forever, and you know it," I said softly, my tone relenting. "Once Han Jiang knows I’m here, do you think East Yaocheng can be saved? When that time comes, no amount of jewels will convince the King of Meng to send troops. No one is foolish enough to drag their country into war for an outsider."
Feng Tong stared at me, the dim light flowing gently in his eyes. Just when I thought he would say something, he lowered his lashes and let out a desolate sigh.
"Feng Tong?" I called his name softly.
I had seen the arrogant Feng Tong, the cold and aloof Feng Tong, the adorable drunk Feng Tong, and the Feng Tong who vented his rage without restraint. But this dejected look was something I had never seen, as if he had suddenly suffered a great blow. It left me with a faint sense of unease.
"Feng Tong?"
Feng Tong looked up from his thoughts, his gaze reflecting deep consideration. "You must do this?"
I nodded. "You know I have no way back."
Feng Tong gazed at me silently, a moving, faint smile suddenly crossing his eyes. "Then do it. It’s been a long time since I’ve had something so worth looking forward to. Now then, let’s talk about profit. Tell me, how shall we split the shares..."
I let out a silent sigh of relief.
I never thought I would care so much about his opinion. But at this moment, the man before me was my only friend, and the only person I could trust.
After I had lost almost everything.
The two city flags looked truly beautiful hanging together.
As I stood atop the high city walls, gazing at the Ghost-God Ravine as it faded into the vast twilight, those two banners fluttered above my head.
I felt, with absolute clarity, a new power slowly infusing my body from those flags, rapidly merging with my blood and becoming a part of me.
***
