Volume One: Turmoil in Yan-Yun Chapter Forty-Three: News from Yanbei

Feng Qi was completely unaware of what had transpired behind him. The Firecloud Steed beneath him galloped swiftly, and before long, he caught sight of Murong Chengzhang’s carriage.

What puzzled him was that at some point, an extra horse had appeared beside the carriage.

It was a Firecloud Steed, and there was no rider upon its back.

The Firecloud Steeds were the finest of warhorses, with fewer than ten thousand among the four hundred thousand soldiers of the Northern Yan Army. Even the elite Vanguard Battalion, famed for its valor, saw only half its men mounted on such steeds; civilians had no hope of acquiring one.

Could it be someone from Mount Taixuan?

Feng Qi quickly dismissed that possibility—it made no sense.

Upon further reflection, the only explanation was that someone from Northern Yan had come to deliver news of what had happened.

Having reasoned this out, Feng Qi urged his horse forward. The guards accompanying the carriage spotted him and hurried to inform those inside.

The window curtain was lifted, revealing a face of striking spirit and intelligence.

It was Luo Xing.

Feng Qi raised his brows, thinking her appearance was remarkably well-timed.

“What brings you here?” he asked.

Luo Xing dismounted, drew a wooden token from her robe, and handed it to Feng Qi. “Urgent dispatch from two thousand miles away. His Highness sent me to deliver this to you.”

Feng Qi was briefly taken aback. Two thousand miles—from Yan Yun to Wuyang, passing through three provinces. What news could be so urgent that it bypassed the Red Hawk and the Carefree Pavilion, requiring a Firecloud Steed to deliver it posthaste?

Murong Xue, who stood nearby, reminded him, “You should have a look. It’s top secret—I’m not even allowed to know.”

Feng Qi thought, whether or not it’s top secret, if news from Northern Yan is read by someone other than the intended recipient before reaching him, it would be a tremendous farce.

He opened the token and his brows knitted tightly.

Luohe, through a night investigation, had finally tracked down traces of the Corpse Control Pavilion in the Gobi of the Endless Sea. The Pavilion had reemerged at the Stone Forest, attacked the main camp of the Endless Sea Battalion, killed more than a hundred, and then retreated. The battalion’s commander was gravely wounded.

The Endless Sea Battalion was under Feng Xisha’s command, stationed year-round in the Gobi and the Stone Forest. As for the commander—Feng Xisha himself.

Feng Qi had long known of the Pavilion’s return, but he couldn’t fathom why they would attack the Endless Sea Battalion.

If they intended to open the gates of Northern Yan, with their demonstrated strength, they could have breached the Wind Pass from within. With Uncle Mo absent, no one could have stopped them.

Why target the Endless Sea Battalion?

“There’s no need to worry. As far as I know, the commander’s wounds have stabilized,” Luo Xing said softly. “The real issue comes after.”

Feng Qi was silent for a moment before reading on.

Chaos had broken out in Yan Yun; seventy-three experts of the Comprehension Realm and above had suddenly rioted. All perished in the attempt to rescue Gu Ci from the dungeon.

Feng Qi asked, “Gu Ci has escaped... Did Father send anyone in pursuit?”

Luo Xing replied, “My father led a team to pursue them at once. They should be able to catch up.”

Feng Qi pressed, “Has the cause of the disturbance in the city been determined?”

“All seventy-three were killed. None carried any tokens of identity. It seems they were deathsworn soldiers cultivated by some organization,” Luo Xing responded.

“Seventy-three deathsworn, just to free one Gu Ci? I never knew he was so important,” Feng Qi murmured.

Luo Xing said, “The true motive is still under investigation, but so far, Gu Ci only went missing after the attack.”

Feng Qi tucked the token away. “In any case, there’s no way seventy-three people would stage such a mad assault just to rescue Gu Ci. Their real aim must be uncovered quickly. Also, if all seventy-three were killed, how did Gu Ci escape?”

There were too many questions, and as a messenger, Luo Xing couldn’t answer them.

Feng Qi reasoned that his father would be able to handle the matter and put it aside. “I understand. You may return.”

“There’s a verbal message as well,” Luo Xing said.

A wooden token wasn’t enough—there was a verbal message, too? Feng Qi had only been gone from Yan Yun for half a month, and so much had happened.

He cast an apologetic glance at Murong Chengzhang. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a little longer.”

“I’ve waited this long—a while more makes no difference,” Murong Chengzhang replied.

…

Once they had gone a little farther, Feng Qi retrieved the Wind Pearl from his pouch and infused it with spiritual power, raising a barrier.

The barrier could ward off enemies as well as eavesdroppers.

Only when he had finished did Luo Xing speak. “His Highness says he has already imprisoned the Third Elder in the dungeon and stripped Feng Luoyue of her command at the Endless Sea Battalion. But there is no solid evidence linking her to the attack on the heir, so she cannot be charged directly.”

Feng Qi frowned. “The Third Elder was already at their mercy. Keeping him on hand to lure bigger fish would have been wiser. Why seize him in such haste?”

“You’ll have to ask His Highness about that,” Luo Xing replied.

Feng Qi pondered. “Where was the Third Elder when Gu Ci escaped?”

“He was first out of the gate, charging at the forefront, unstoppable,” Luo Xing answered.

Then Gu Ci’s escape likely had nothing to do with the Third Elder.

If not, then only one possibility remained...

As Feng Qi mused, Luo Xing interjected, “His Highness anticipated your reaction. He told me to say: since you weren’t present, don’t jump to conclusions. After all, we’re all family.”

“Family doesn’t conspire with cultists and barbarians to assassinate me,” Feng Qi retorted.

“The Third Elder had dealings with the barbarians, but limited ones. As for collusion with the cult, there’s no solid evidence yet,” Luo Xing replied coolly.

Her tone was odd—normally, she would have supported him without hesitation, never contradicting him with such calmness.

Before he could ask, Luo Xing spoke first. “I’m not the same as you, Your Highness. After all, with a word, you could marry me off to some grand official in Yan Weixie’s court. I can’t treat you as I used to, lest I annoy you and end up married off to who knows whom.”

Feng Qi was momentarily stunned, then forced his gaze away from her and changed the subject. “When are you leaving?”

“Not leaving!” Luo Xing snapped.

Feng Qi let out a small cry—how arduous would this journey become?

Luo Xing sighed. “My father wants me to study at the Imperial Observatory and, while I’m at it, keep you company along the way.”

...

Beneath the Northern Yan Prince’s residence lay the dungeon.

Feng Changhong was held in Cell Number Two. His hands were shackled with thick, icy chains, and his feet suspended three feet above the ground.

His head hung low, hair streaked with white and disheveled.

The dungeon was damp, yet sweat streamed relentlessly down his face.

Footsteps echoed, followed by the wavering light of a candle illuminating his cell.

“Your Highness, you find time to visit a criminal at this hour? Shouldn’t you be busy recapturing Gu Ci?” Feng Changhong recognized the visitor by footfall alone.

He slowly raised his head, gazing at Feng Muyun. His eyes lingered on Muyun’s crown for a moment before he continued, “Believe it or not, I’ve told you everything.”

“I thought carefully about your words and realized you had no reason to collude with the barbarians,” Feng Muyun said. “The Feng family has a millennium of blood feuds with them—they’d never trust you.”

“The barbarians deserve death for violating our borders,” Feng Changhong replied.

“But you’re only the Third Elder. Even if you did conspire with them, the cost would outweigh the gain. Why, then, would that other person betray us?” Feng Muyun pressed.

Changhong snorted. “The temptation of imperial power is a dangerous thing.”

Muyun made no comment. That temptation could indeed corrupt.

Suddenly, Changhong said, “If I’m not mistaken, you were the one who let Gu Ci go, weren’t you?”

Muyun was not surprised by his deduction. “Though Wan Yan wouldn’t mind, her old maid was always fiercely loyal. She bribed a dungeon guard, and I feared that might cause trouble down the line, so I let him go.”

“And then?” Changhong asked.

“The guard was flogged to death. As for the maid, she’s not so easily dealt with, but Wan Yan said she would handle it.”

“Madam is resolute—no doubt the maid will suffer for it,” Changhong said after a pause. “But Gu Ci—was he really just let go like that?”

Muyun shook his head. “Luohe has been following him.”

Changhong hesitated, then let out a bitter smile.

Muyun continued, “Though he was swayed by Yang Wanli, you and I both know Yang would never risk himself by coming to Yan Yun. Without him, how could anyone persuade Uncle Gu?”

“Following the thread to the root?” Changhong queried.

“Exactly. That’s why I’ve come—I want to know, Third Uncle, is there any root or tendril I have missed?”

Changhong was silent, then said, “No. I’ve made everything clear; there’s nothing hidden. The roots are plain enough.”

He met Muyun’s eyes. “The Second Prince is far from incompetent. If not checked, he might bring ruin to all of Northern Yan—including you.”