“Xiao Man.” After a while, he called her.
“Hmm?” She looked up at him in his embrace.
“We have to go,” his voice tinged with a hint of helplessness. “Could you let go first?”
“You first,” she pouted.
“You first,” he softly sighed by her ear. “I can’t bear to.”
She gave a low harrumph and loosened her hold. He lowered his eyes, smiling at her as he reached out to ruffle her hair. “Go confirm the defense arrangements with Chief Zhao. I’ll review the maps again and join you shortly.”
She nodded, picking up the white cloth bundle as she headed out of the hall. He lifted his head, gazing at her retreating figure, a trace of gentle laughter lurking in his eyes.
The next moment, his silhouette quivered unsteadily for a few steps as he caught himself against the table edge and slowly sank into the chair. He leaned back, closing his eyes and breathing softly.
After a short while, he pulled out a wine jug from his overcoat, coughing as he brought the medicinal wine to his lips.
Having drank a few sips, his movements abruptly stalled. He weighed the wine jug in his hand, head lowered as he silently laughed once.
Then donning his overcoat, he pushed open the door and exited.
Outside the stronghold gates waited a carriage, Zhao Xiaochuan holding the whip in the driver’s seat, his ring-pommel saber across his knees. Seeing Zhu Zi’an approach, he bowed and said, “Sir, I know a mountain path that can reach Huainan in half a day by carriage.”
“Not riding horses?” Zhu Zi’an asked. “That would probably be faster.”
“No horses,” the girl beside him flatly declined.
She suddenly turned and wordlessly propelled him into the carriage compartment, firmly pushing him onto the seat before yanking the curtains shut, abruptly dimming the interior. A few strands of sunlight slanted in, illuminating the tips of her windswept hair.
He smiled helplessly. “Xiao Man, what are you doing?”
She lifted her face. “Sleep,” she ordered.
Then she bent down to sit beside him, silently nuzzling her shoulder against his. “Lean on me and sleep,” she mumbled almost inaudibly.
She looked away, cheeks flaming, practically smoking from her ears. He laughed softly before being rapped sharply on the head. Obediently closing his eyes, he slowly let his body tilt, head coming to rest on her shoulder.
The muffled clopping of hooves sounded as the carriage jolted over mud and patches of fine snow. In the monotonous rumbling, he gradually slipped into slumber amidst the half-shadowed compartment, long lashes lightly brushing her neck.
She turned to see him wearing a faint smile at the corners of his mouth and felt her own widen in response. Reaching out to embrace him, she tenderly rested her cheek against his forehead.
The skies had already darkened by the time the carriage clattered into Huainan.
Zhao Xiaochuan left them in a remote alley and the two slipped out, hurrying towards the prearranged meeting spot with Luo Shiyi.
Beneath a towering Chinese parasol tree awaited a youth in black, next to a carriage with light green curtains.
He passed several bundles of documents to Zhu Zi’an, briefing softly, “After traveling by tributary ship, huge batches of goods were delivered to a granary on the outskirts. Per your orders, I’ve avoided stirring up trouble for now.”
Zhu Zi’an nodded. “I’ll investigate personally.”
He bent to enter the compartment where Jiang Kui lit a lantern. Poring over maps, they swiftly hashed out a basic infiltration plan targeting the granary.
Lamps swayed as frost coated the trees and grasses. The moon set behind the western mountains while the eastern skies gradually brightened.
As the hour passed midnight, snowflakes began drifting from the heavens. Within the rural granary compound, soldiers paced on patrol.
Abruptly, a small pebble shot through the tree branches, startling a murmuration of roosting birds into flight.
The guard captain strode forward warily and through the darkness, barely made out a shadow flitting through the treetops, darting rapidly towards the outskirts.
“Pursue!” he bellowed, taking off after it with his squadron.
Their footsteps receded into the night, heading east as two figures silently emerged from behind the trees and nimbly scaled over the compound’s stone walls, dropping into the tranquil, dim courtyard.
“Luo Shiyi can only divert the soldiers for about half a shichen,” Zhu Zi’an remarked as they stole through the grounds. “We must hurry.”
Jiang Kui nodded curtly.
They rapidly located a small window granting entry into the granary and slipped inside with practiced ease.
Zhu Zi’an struck a match, lighting an oil lantern. Liquid light spilled across the brick floors, shadows dancing wildly between the walls.
For an instant, the flames illuminated the interior. Rows of bulging sacks, tightly bound with cords, were stacked ceiling-high across the entire granary, jagged shadows stark upon the mound.
Unsheathing his sword, Zhu Zi’an flicked open an edge of the burlap covers with the blade tip.
“As expected…” His eyes chilled. “Huainan plans to rebel.”
Instead of grain, the granary was filled to the brim with weaponry and armaments, blades and arrow tips coldly reflecting the firelight.
“The Huainan governor is gutsy,” Jiang Kui muttered. “Smuggling military supplies by tributary ship…”
“For years, things have seemed amiss in Huainan. The ambitious He Quan has repeatedly requested expanded military authority, long kept in check by the court.” Zhu Zi’an picked up an arrow fletching. “Now we have the proof needed to petition the Emperor for intervention.”
Abruptly he glanced up, hearing the distinct twang of bowstrings.
In the next moment, a barrage of arrows hurtled forth like rain!
Jiang Kui shed the white cloth bundle, deflecting the attack with flying spearwork. Zhu Zi’an stood shoulder-to-shoulder, gripping his hilt tightly as his sword gleamed bright as snowstorms.
Weathering an arrow storm, they leaned against each other back-to-back before simultaneously peering up.
The oil lantern crashed to the floor, extinguished. A thin beam of light slanted through the window slots as indistinct rustling hinted at figures concealed atop the roof. A hidden company of archers had stealthily encircled the granary without their notice.
“Well, well,” a hoarse voice drawled lazily. “If it isn’t Master Puliu. Whatever brings you to Huainan?”
Zhu Zi’an’s smile was frosty. “So it’s Chief Nanqi of the Beggars’ Sect. Got demoted to Huainan after bungling things at the Triad Gathering?”
Chief Duan Tianda scoffed derisively. “Instead of fretting over my career, perhaps worry about leaving here alive, Master.”
Another wave of arrows bore down!
Whirling her spear, Jiang Kui wove a seamless perimeter, shielding them both within. Zhu Zi’an grabbed a sack and said lowly, “We’re leaving. We have what we came for. Go meet up with Luo Shiyi outside.”
They raced through the granary towards the gates, battling incoming swarms while retreating. Hot on their heels, Duan Tianda gave a muffled yell and snatched a soldier’s longbow, swiftly nocking three arrows as his pupils constricted. He grimly drew the string taut, taking deadly aim at the maiden’s unguarded back.
“Die!” His smile was glacial.
The three missiles streaked forth like vipers, frosted steel etching a ruthless arc through the ashen night.
Redirecting a knife thrust, Jiang Kui sensed killing intent freeze the base of her spine as the air screamed warnings of the arrows’ trajectory, unerringly finding her vital point.
In a split second, a hand shot out to seize her arm. Zhu Zi’an shielded her body with his own as moon-kissed sleeves billowed wildly, a flash of sudden radiance heralding his unsheathed blade as it carved out a flickering crescent that shattered the incoming arrows, their lethal glow winking out in an instant.
He gave a muted cough.
“Let’s go,” his voice faint.
Veiled by the undulating shadows, they melted into the darkness.
Luo Shiyi already had the carriage ready as they scrambled inside. From outside came the shrill whinny of a horse and deafening thunder of galloping hooves as the carriage hurtled into the remote mountain paths, swiftly disappearing into the gloom.
“Your Highness,” Luo Shiyi called over his shoulder anxiously from the coach box. “When diverting the soldiers earlier, I noticed a huge procession leaving Huainan, marching towards Mount Baishi.”
Zhu Zi’an’s frown was severe. “They still plan to attack the bandits.”
He gave a low cough. “With no bandits in Huainan, the governor aims to take advantage of raids to expand his forces without court approval…a fait accompli to coerce consent for increased military powers.”
“The government troops are determined to attack. The sect won’t survive,” he said heavily. “We must immediately head to the White Stone Bandit Stronghold…”
“I’m going to the White Stone Stronghold,” Jiang Kui interjected firmly. “This concerns critical matters of state. You must return promptly to report our findings in the capital. That is an imperial order.”
“Understood.” Luo Shiyi acquiesced.
“Also…” Her voice dropped. “Once we’re back in Chang’an, take him first to treat his injuries. Until he has recovered, do not allow him to act recklessly under any circumstances.”
Head lowered, she smiled faintly. “That is my personal request.”
“Guard him closely,” she murmured. “I won’t have him hurt again.”
Luo Shiyi bowed deeply. “By your will.” Then he asked hesitantly, “Does Miss Jiang plan to…”
“I’m heading to the mountain stronghold to fully support their defenses,” she replied evenly. “After all, I’m the Chief now. Three hundred bandits are waiting for my return.”
She bent over the sleeping figure beside her. Still and composed amidst dancing sunlight, he seemed wrapped in the tranquil silence of new snow.
In the gently swaying carriage, she embraced him lightly, cheek pressed against his heart as she listened to its beats. Spilling radiance bathed them in a soft glow, like the first gleams of dawn.
The carriage rolled to a stop. Gripping her spear, she strode into the thickly falling snow.
Where the path ended, Zhao Xiaochuan held two horses in the storm, bowing with hand on sword hilt at her approach.
“I just received word from the stronghold,” he reported urgently. “The government troops marched through the night bent on destroying us. Our location has leaked…I’m afraid the odds are against us.”
He gave a mirthless chuckle. “I suspect after this battle the Black Flag Scorpion Band will be wiped from the Jianghu records.”
“I’ll take Miss safely this far then bid farewell. For our years of acquaintance, please allow me this final bow in gratitude for our fortuitous meeting.”
“We’ll face the enemy together,” Jiang Kui said, helping him to his feet.
Zhao Xiaochuan shook his head slowly. “This is the sect’s problem. I cannot involve you in these muddy waters, Miss.”
“As Chief of White Stone Stronghold, we share its fate of survival or destruction,” she stated evenly. “To walk the Jianghu is to embrace its ethos of loyalty and righteousness. If I abandon them now, I’ll never know peace.”
Zhao Xiaochuan fell silent, offering up the reins with deference. Vaulting into the saddle, she gathered them up, spear shaft straight as a mast beside her, tip glittering brightly as if to split the tempest before them.
Dawn’s radiance flooded through the pass as the two horses reared with shrill cries, hooves clattering down the wide mountain road through the accumulated snow, breaking into a run across the expansive wilderness.
As they approached White Stone Mountain at noon, a small trail appeared leading upwards along the slopes. At the base, government legions formed ranks, flags rolling through the strong winds like dark tides while soldiers slowly advanced over the plains.
The girl on horseback narrowed her eyes, peering down at the army’s progression.
The standard bearer waved his banner as twin divisions began their measured march on either side, smoothly transitioning into a large crane formation. The enormous yet orderly military square steadily condensed into geometric ranks and files, skirmishers and light infantry detaching to occupy the frontal lines.
“Their attack comes tonight,” she intoned quietly. “We’ll meet in the hall to plan our defense.”
Within the great timber hall, embers blazed as a round table carved with a detailed relief map dominated the room’s center. The bandit chiefs already awaited them and bowed in unison at Jiang Kui’s entrance with Zhao Xiaochuan trailing behind.
“How many soldiers come against us?” she asked without preamble.
“Around three thousand,” one man promptly answered. “Local provincial troops for now but more from Huainan City march this way…and still gathering in number.”
“How many on our side can fight?”
“Three hundred all told.” The bandit chief’s lips thinned. “At most.”
A frigid gust wailed past the open door, eliciting shivers from those gathered.
“Officially it’s punitive bandit raids to establish merit but truly aimed at coercing approval for military expansion from the court,” Jiang Kui said softly. “Therefore they must achieve outright victory with a single decisive strike instead of prolonged engagement.”
She continued after brief consideration, “Others have already reported developments to the capital. Round trip by the fastest messenger ship will take half a month…we need only defend for that long before imperial edicts arrive.”
“Half a month…” someone muttered faintly. “Outnumbered ten to one…how can we possibly last half a month?”
“We can,” Jiang Kui stated categorically, palm flat on the map. “Because I say we will.”
For half a day, the hall reverberated with urgent preparations as messages relayed orders throughout the stronghold. The ringing of blades being sharpened and weapons mobilized echoed nonstop, punctuated by snapping standards and fiery torches waving amidst the din, the entire mountain awash with martial clamor.
As dusk bled across the skies, crimson clouds blanketed the earth and swirling snowstorms stretched to the horizon. A resonant bugle call blasted through the mountains, its clear notes bouncing between snow-laden valleys and stirring entire flocks into panicked flight.
On the distant edge of the plain, faint plumes of dust became visible. The government army marched onto the field, steady war drums underpinning the thunderous rhythm of boots impacting in unison, stirring the stronghold’s flapping banners despite the storm’s fury.
At the head of the ranks astride a white steed, the maiden sat spear-straight, verdant tresses whipping behind her in the squall like an emerald sword that sought to sever the very winds.
Hooves pounded relentlessly, churning snow to mud.
Soft moonbeams lanced through the cloud layer, illuminating the lone figure in the carriage, an expansive cloak wrapped around him. He leaned quietly against the paneled walls, long lashes downcast and tranquil in repose, the delicate shadows they etched seemingly lighter than new powder tracking the lunar glow.
A lump of snow tumbled softly from the canopy, stirring faint eddies that cooled his cheeks. Dark lashes fluttered reflexively at the sensation.
Xie Wuyan gave a muted cough as he opened his eyes, gazing out at the ninefold heavens sinking below the horizon.
Bracing both hands against the frame, he levered himself up with some effort, knuckles lightly rapping the window. “Luo Shiyi.”
“Your Highness, you’ve awakened,” came the muted response from the driver’s seat. “I brought you to a local physician who treated the arrow wounds and stopped the bleeding as much as possible. Evidence of Huainan’s military stockpile has been delivered safely by Steward Wan. We currently race to rendezvous with the ship bound for Chang’an.”
“Turn back,” Xie Wuyan said softly. “Return to Huainan first.”
Luo Shiyi fell silent before respectfully venturing, “Your Highness…”
“Go back,” he repeated mildly. “I seem to vaguely recall what happened before losing consciousness.”
“Your Highness…Miss Jiang ordered me to bring you to Chang’an,” Luo Shiyi reminded hesitantly.
“We’re turning back,” Xie Wuyan insisted.
Luo Shiyi quieted briefly then flicked the reins with a shout, wheeling the horses around towards Huainan City.
In the carriage, Xie Wuyan closed his eyes, slowly raising a hand to press along his own cheekbone.
Rattling over the dirt mountain pass, the carriage turned onto paved city roads and finally rolled to a stop before the dimly-lit government compound near dawn.
The night watchman on duty yawned cavernously as he slid open a viewing hatch embedded within the main gates, blearily poking half his face through the gap as he demanded in faintly irritated tones, “Who goes there so late?”
The black-clad youth outside silently placed a carved jade token upon the sill.
The guard froze for an instant before hastily grabbing the token. Holding it close to an oil lamp, his expression abruptly shifted as his voice quavered on the verge of stuttering, “The Crown P-Prince…Your Highness?”
Clutching the jade token, he stumbled and scrambled wildly towards the inner compound.
Soon after, chaos erupted within as nonstop shouts and echoes of footsteps resounded.
Official after official was shocked awake from slumber, hastily changing into court robes as they rushed from their quarters. Urging carriages towards the complex, they neatly arrayed themselves before the gates, arrayed in solemn deference.
As moonbeams lanced through the clouds, a carriage with pale green curtains glided to a stop at the entrance.
Dismounting first, the black-clad youth turned to face the carriage and bowed deeply before assisting its occupant out.
In perfect tandem, the officials flanking both sides prostrated themselves, layered robes whispering loudly as they rose and fell in waves reminiscent of rippling wheat.
The young Crown Prince gave a faint smile, helping the foremost official to his feet. “Apologies for the late night imposition. You have my gratitude for enduring such troubles.”
“N-no, the honor is ours!” the bureaucrat spluttered.
The cluster of officials vied in their attentions, ushering the Crown Prince towards the Grand Hall. Attendants hurriedly provided writing materials as recent documents were presented for his review. Seated at the head table, the prince lifted his brush to prepare ink before smoothing wide sleeves and bowing his head to peruse the paperwork.
The hall held its breath in uneasy anticipation for individual censure. He casually flipped through several scrolls, singling out certain names that sent those men kneeling hastily with bowed heads. Each official nervously summarized ongoing affairs under their administration when prompted.
“Where might I find Governor He?” the Crown Prince finally inquired mildly.
“Replying to Your Highness,” one official hastily jumped up. “Governor He leads troops in bandit suppression at Mount Baishi.”
“Ready my carriage,” the prince said tonelessly. “We depart for Mount Baishi.”
Scrambling to prepare his transport, the officials left the Crown Prince alone to briefly refresh himself in the hall. In the ensuing silence, he sat alone at the head table and drew out a thin sheet of paper. Dipping his brush, he penned a letter in flowing script before softly calling, “Luo Shiyi.”
The black-clad youth emerged quietly from the rear, carefully assisting him. “Your Highness.”
Touching his temple lightly, Xie Wuyan gave a muted cough. He deftly folded the missive into a tiny scroll and passed it over. “Deliver this letter personally to Gong Yang.”
“Your Highness…” Luo Shiyi began in a low voice. “The situation at Mount Baishi…”
“I alone am sufficient to resolve matters at Mount Baishi,” Xie Wuyan stated, covering the youth’s outstretched hand. “This letter for Gong Yang is critical to deliver posthaste.”
“Understood.” Luo Shiyi saluted with hand on sword hilt.
Donning his overcoat, the Crown Prince exited to the rear courtyard and entered the awaiting carriage.
Below White Stone Mountain, bitter winds howled for ten leagues amidst an ocean of flickering steel. Battle cries mixed with the shrieking gale, the cacophony of slaughter shaking the very heavens.
Seated within the command tent, Governor He Quan slowly stroked his beard, keen eyes fixed upon the relief map covering the long table before him. Candle flames danced over the carved surface as he shifted markers back and forth, piercing gaze like honed icicles.
One platoon after another continuously streamed in and out, reporting the latest developments on the siege.
“Rolling boulders from above routed a hundred men!”
“Ambushed by concealed troops in the woods!”
“Eight hundred infantrymen slowly advancing up the west ridge!”
He Quan slammed the table. “Ridiculous! Mere peasant bandits yet we cannot claim the heights even after a full night’s assault? Order all divisions to storm the peak!”
“Governor!” A lieutenant hurried forth, saluting with cupped fists. “Someone has sent you a calling card.”
“Calling card?” He Quan looked taken aback.
The officer presented a lacquered tray with utmost care, laying it reverently before him with both hands.
Resting atop the elegantly wrought platter was a sheet of gilded rice paper, one corner weighed down by an ivory plaque. Faint traces of sandalwood perfume suffused the air.
He Quan’s gaze hardened as he picked up the sheet.
Gossamer paper thinly coated in gold leaf glimmered under the firelight.
Ink flowed in bold strokes across its surface, spelling out “His Majesty’s Second Son Kang.”
Beyond the tent, a jeweled carriage rolled to a gradual halt, clear notes ringing out from swaying pendants striking jade. Its tinkling chorus somehow resembled the trickle of mountain springs amidst the din and clamor of weapons and war steeds.
“Governor He,” a voice called tonelessly from within. “Please withdraw your forces.”
Below White Stone Mountain,
A maiden stood spear-planted before the ranks, arrow-torn robes and streaming hair whipping like battle flags.
She raised her head high, gaze skyward. A rim of dawn exploded over the eastern horizon, its radiance cascading over the wind-scoured wilderness.
Suddenly, piercing notes of struck gongs rang out.
Resonant tones swelled tremendously between heaven and earth, peal after peal echoing sonorously over the land.
Hearing the command to stand down, the unrelenting offensive suddenly ceased. The forward momentum of the massed battalions gradually halted as they parted like the sea, clearing a wide path down the center.
The girl started slightly in surprise, looking towards the distance.
Ranks split down the middle as a figure emerged from the edge of the plains. Spilling sunlight seemed to cloak his advance in scattering snowfall.
That man wore crimson robes cinched with jade, voluminous sleeves trailing his sweeping stride.
Halting before her through the churning tempest, he bowed deeply from afar.
“Zhe Kang,” she called softly.
Striding through the tireless blizzard, step by step he came to her side.
Weapons dropped unheeded around them, wind screaming unopposed across the vast wilderness. He crossed thousands of men and horses to reach her, enfolding her bloodied form amidst the sword forest and arrow rain. Clasping tight her spear, he drew himself up straight and tall.
Leaning in, he whispered gently by her ear, “My lady, it’s me.”
The shrieking gale faded away, his voice the only sound remaining.
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