Ao Yun’s scimitar clashed first against Arsleng’s blade, the impact erupting with a deafening crack. Ao Yun let out a great roar, his sturdy arms exploding with terrifying strength at that moment, actually managing to force Arsleng’s scimitar back.
Immediately after, Xin Yi’s Tiandao lunged from behind Ao Yun’s horse, thrusting straight for Arsleng’s nape. Arsleng flipped the dagger held at his lower back to parry, caught in a pincer attack between Ao Yun and Xin Yi’s twin blades.
To capture the rebels, one must first capture their leader. If they could kill Arsleng, even if their small group couldn't repel the heavy cavalry, the Beiyang army from Shangjin would soon catch up from behind.
But this was the Lion King.
Sensing danger at his own back, Ao Yun was forced to retract his blade first. Xin Yi vaulted onto Arsleng’s horse. As Tiandao was blocked by Arsleng’s dagger, Xin Yi ducked the moment Ao Yun withdrew; sure enough, a cold blade from behind him swept just over his head. Arsleng flipped his dagger, intending to stab downward, but Xin Yi tilted his head to avoid it. Gripping the saddle with one hand, he flipped his entire body over, planting both feet on Arsleng’s shoulders before scrambling up to crouch atop the Lion King’s back.
Ao Yun couldn't help but let out a whistle of admiration.
Arsleng shifted his shoulders, his scimitar hooking toward Xin Yi’s calves. Xin Yi pressed down on the Lion King’s head and leaped to dodge. As he lunged forward, he pressed one hand against the back of the Lion King’s skull while the other swept his blade toward the man's throat.
Arsleng raised a hand to intercept Xin Yi’s blade, but the weight of the forward leap pushed him back, causing him to lean precariously off his horse. Xin Yi took the opportunity to jump down. Ao Yun reached out a hand to pull him up, and Xin Yi used the momentum to flip onto the back of Ao Yun’s horse.
"You should have been a bit faster," Ao Yun said, licking a smear of blood from the back of his hand. "But that was beautifully done."
"I hope you can be faster next time, too," Xin Yi replied, dodging a blade and letting it swing toward Ao Yun, who parried it.
Chiye trampled over the corpses to pull alongside Ao Yun’s horse. Xin Yi immediately leaped back onto Chiye’s back, leaning down to give the horse an appreciative rub on the head.
"Are we going to keep fighting them?" Ao Yun shouted.
"What do you think?" Xin Yi withdrew his blade, and the man whose chest he had pierced collapsed.
He and Ao Yun locked eyes for a split second and cursed simultaneously: "Run, for fuck's sake!"
Fight him? Like hell!
Their small group wasn't even enough for the heavy cavalry to trample underfoot. Why on earth would they face Arsleng head-on?
The two led the charge, sprinting at the very front. The wind hammered violently against their faces, but even that couldn't shut Ao Yun’s mouth. He yelled into the gale, "How shameful! We're actually running away!" Before Xin Yi could respond, he continued, "But it's a hell of a thrill!"
Arsleng had remounted his horse. This time, he had no intention of letting either of them go. Countless cavalrymen thundered in pursuit behind them. The two were chased by the lion, galloping wildly across the plains.
As they crested a slight rise in the snowy field, Xin Yi suddenly spotted another troop ahead.
Who was it?
Chiye charged forward without hesitation, heading straight for the unit. As they drew closer, Xin Yi recognized the man at the very front with a single glance.
A snow-white cloak draped over his frame, his narrow eyes shimmering with light. Even his smile remained three parts lush elegance and seven parts thin coldness.
His heart wouldn't stop thumping! Xin Yi’s throat felt as if someone were squeezing it. He opened his mouth to shout, but nothing came out.
Bai Jiu’s horse suddenly moved.
He spurred forward, and the Beiyang army behind him drew their blades and charged in unison. The snowy wilderness was vast, and as battle cries collided, the Beiyang army clashed with Arsleng’s cavalry on the frozen ground. It was a long-awaited head-on collision between the two sides, and Xin Yi rode straight toward Bai Jiu.
However, Bai Jiu’s horse brushed past him.
"Jingyuan—"
Xin Yi’s voice was still hanging in the air when his back grew heavy. The man who had just brushed past him had flipped onto his horse. The heavy cloak pressed against his shoulders, and a cool scent enveloped his entire body. Bai Jiu’s equally cold hand covered the hand Xin Yi used to grip Tiandao. With a squeeze of his legs, Chiye immediately wheeled around.
The force of Tiandao’s swing was immense, for Xin Yi knew exactly how much strength the man behind him was applying.
Before this counter-slaughter could even push forward, a long arrow whistled through the wind from the rear, aiming straight for Arsleng’s face. He raised his blade to block it, but the scimitar let out a sharp, screeching sound upon impact.
Standing on a high snowbank in the distance was Jibai Yue.
The gale blew the hair back from his forehead as he held his drawing stance, motionless. On his exposed brow, an old scar stood out. He stared at the equally old blade scar on Arsleng’s shoulder, a slow smile spreading across his refined face.
He silently mouthed a sentence to the Lion King.
It caused the Lion King to pull his reins and stop. Arsleng’s gaze grew heavy, moving from the general’s face to Xin Yi in the midst of the fray, finally landing on the blade, Tiandao.
*The one who breaks Canaan in the days to come...*
*Shall surely be a son of the Xin family of Beiyang.*
The man who had roared those words had died before Canaan Mountain, standing tall just a step away from his goal. He had made the Great Yuan panic, made Wanze fear the borders, and made Canaan tremble. It was like an oath and a curse, hammered into the hearts of Arsleng and the people of the Great Yuan, just as it was hammered into the chests of the people of Beiyang and Dalan.
Even though he was now dust and his glory had faded, he was impossible to forget.
Arsleng suddenly turned his horse. He retreated, staring at Xin Yi. The Great Yuan’s heavy troops followed suit, appearing to withdraw reluctantly under the Beiyang army’s fierce assault, yet also seeming to have made a different decision, merely waiting for the right moment.
"I will be waiting at Canaan!" Arsleng raised a fist above his head and shouted, "I will be waiting at Canaan Mountain! If you cannot come, then I will come again. Shangjin cannot block the Great Yuan’s soldiers, and the Beiyang army cannot break Canaan Mountain. One day, we shall reach the banks of the Great River!"
The Great Yuan forces retreated frantically. This should have been the perfect time to press the advantage, but Chiye also came to a halt. Neither Lord Pingding nor the Prince of Yan gave the order to pursue.
"Why aren't we chasing them?" Ao Yun galloped to Chiye’s side. His gaze swept over Bai Jiu’s face before he questioned Xin Yi.
"I'm afraid we can't today," Xin Yi said calmly. "The Beiyang army didn't bring enough provisions. A forced pursuit would only lead to casualties. Beyond here is Great Yuan territory; if we fall into an encirclement, the army will collapse."
"So we just let him go back to Canaan Mountain like that?"
"I'm afraid that won't do either." Hiding his left hand inconspicuously within his sleeve, Xin Yi smiled at Ao Yun. "The Qiyan tribe is still behind us. If we let him retreat too easily, the Qiyan will suffer as well."
Ao Yun wanted to say more, but he met the other man’s eyes.
Eyes as narrow as a snake’s—even when smiling, they were icy; even when beautiful, they were dangerous. Ao Yun cut his words short and backed away warily, leaving Xin Yi’s side.
"Let's go back," Bai Jiu said softly into Xin Yi’s ear. "Prince of Yan."
When Wu Yu saw Xin Yi, he wept for joy. He clung to Xin Yi’s leg, tears and snot streaming down his face right in front of Bai Jiu, wiping it all over the Prince of Yan’s trouser leg in a desperate attempt to show Lord Pingding that he was loyal, if a bit stupid. Xin Ming also clung to Xin Yi’s other leg; though he didn't cry, he looked up with wide, longing eyes.
Xin Yi used his scabbard to push Wu Yu away, extracting his mess of a leg. He felt a wave of disgust at the sight of the mucus. "Heavens, these aren't my trousers."
Wu Yu immediately rolled away and said timidly, "Could they be Lord Pingding’s?"
"..." Xin Yi snapped, "Go die, Wu Yu."
Wu Yu happily ran off to do just that.
Xin Yi picked up Xin Ming. "Go keep an eye on him. Tell him not to act like a madman." Xin Ming wrapped his arms around Xin Yi’s neck and wouldn't let go. Xin Yi added, "Go on. I won't be leaving the city today."
Only then did Xin Ming reluctantly slide down.
Once everyone had run off, Xin Yi felt a weight on his shoulder. Someone pressed against him from behind, encircling him and taking hold of his hands.
Xin Yi clenched his fists slightly, his left hand instinctively trying to hide, but it was caught firmly. Xin Yi’s heart skipped a beat, and he stammered slightly, "My... My Lord."
Bai Jiu’s fingertips lingered on the back of his hand, sliding gently.
Xin Yi was entirely focused on his left hand, feeling nervous. It wasn't that he was afraid of Bai Jiu knowing he had lost his pinky; rather, he didn't want to shatter the confidence he had just built for himself.
The confidence to stand side-by-side with Bai Jiu.
Bai Jiu whispered Xin Yi’s name by his cheek. Xin Yi turned his head, and Bai Jiu pressed against his lips, kissing him with increasing intensity. Xin Yi exerted himself as well, slowly responding.
It was as if they hadn't kissed in an eternity.
Their hands intertwined at some point. Xin Yi’s lips were parted, and cool moisture was delivered from the tip of a tongue. Xin Yi suddenly felt this moment was precious beyond measure, like someone who had walked through ice and snow for too long finally finding the warmth that belonged to them. His response grew somewhat fierce; he even gripped Bai Jiu’s hand tightly, heedless of the missing finger on his left hand.
That night he was trapped by the Great Yuan was terrifying in hindsight.
If he had died among the heavy cavalry, if he had died in the snow, if he had died in the Qiyan tribe... this person would never have belonged to him again, along with this warmth and this beating heart.
Bai Jiu suddenly pulled him into a tight embrace, their kiss like a reunion after a brush with death. Xin Yi was so flushed from the rising body heat that he broke into a sweat. He managed to lean against Bai Jiu’s shoulder, their foreheads touching as they gazed at each other from inches away.
"Jingyuan," Xin Yi whispered against him. "I've killed many people. I'm not your rabbit anymore."
Bai Jiu didn't laugh at this nonsensical statement. He said seriously, "I know."
"I met Arsleng, but I didn't reach Canaan Mountain."
Bai Jiu said softly, "I know."
"I lost pathetically and had to seek an alliance with the Qiyan."
"I know."
Xin Yi said, "I want to go home."
Bai Jiu’s thumb brushed against his cheek. He whispered, "Then we shall go home."
Of course, Xin Yi wouldn't go home right now, because his work wasn't finished. He hadn't settled matters with the Great Yuan or Prince Tang. Arsleng’s retreat couldn't be allowed to be so easy. Tomorrow morning at dawn, he would mount his horse again, bringing grain, wading through the snow in the cold wind once more to completely block the Great Yuan on the other side.
The other side of Canaan Mountain.
That night, he slept very soundly. Bai Jiu’s gentle patting allowed him to fall into a relaxed, deep slumber once more. Bai Jiu held Xin Yi’s hand, his fingertips tracing back and forth over Xin Yi’s fingers. He looked at the left hand missing its little finger, his face devoid of a smile.
There was a night of blizzard years ago.
Before Bai Jiu was Bai Jiu, he had made a vow.
To let Xin Yi live.
A lifetime untouched by sorrow or pain.
In the deep of the night, the man lifted the youth's hand and pressed a light kiss to it. He said nothing, yet it was as if he had said everything.
***
