QIAO XIAN RUSHED BACK to their residence. As soon as she arrived, she realized Fo'er hadn't traced them there at all—Feng Xiao had tricked her.
But Cui Buqu was still with Feng Xiao; at this thought, she turned to hurry back. She'd gone only a short way when, to her surprise, she ran into a perfectly composed Cui Buqu on his way home. Behind him was an eagle rider with a stranger slung over his saddle.
"This is Fo'er's disciple, captured by Feng Xiao. Lock him up somewhere—he'll be useful later when Fo'er arrives," Cui Buqu said.
He was talking about a living person like an object, but Qiao Xian nodded as if this was nothing out of the ordinary. She called someone to take Fo'er's disciple away.
Songji had braced himself to remain silent in the face of the most gruesome torture. But to his surprise, no one asked him a single thing as they prepared to drag him off. In a panic, he shouted in stilted Chinese, "Where are you taking me? My shifu will not stand for this!"
Cui Buqu had one foot raised to step inside when he suddenly stopped. He turned and stood in front of Songji. "Do you have some way to contact your shifu?"
Songji said nothing, his face a mask of defiance.
Cui Buqu threw a glance at Qiao Xian. "Tell him about the tortures he'll face at our Zuoyue Bureau."
"Yes sir," said Qiao Xian, face blank. "Moon through the Veil: we soak layers of paper in water and press them over your face, leaving you unable to breathe; eventually you suffocate. Or we may snap all the tendons in your arms and legs, toss you into the water prison naked, and allow hungry pythons to feast on your flesh. You'll watch your hands and feet as they're eaten, until the snakes have consumed everything and bite through your throat. This is called Hundred Birds Worship the Phoenix. There are also Blessings as One Wishes and Exquisite from Every Angle. Which do you like best? I'll explain them to you. Slowly."
Songji's face was so pale it was almost translucent, and he was trembling like a leaf. His Chinese was middling, but this he understood without issue. The most powerful thought in his mind just then was that the people of the Central Plains were terrifying—they even gave their grisly torture methods such beautiful names. He hadn't yet heard the explanations for Blessings as One Wishes and Exquisite from Every Angle, but he knew they must be still crueler and more horrific.
"What do you want?!" His voice cracked.
"Contact your shifu and plead for help," said Qiao Xian. "Get him to come here."
"You want to kill him," Songji said stiffly. "I won't do it."
"We won't kill him," said Cui Buqu. "But if you don't call him, we have other ways of letting him know you're here." He turned to Qiao Xian. "Hang him from the bamboo building."
There was a bamboo building next to the manor, its roof higher than those of the nearby structures. Standing on that building, one could see out over most of Liugong City. If they hung Songji up there, Fo'er would soon find out about it.
Qiao Xian watched them haul Songji away. Hesitantly, she began, "Fo'er is the Khaganate's number one expert…" She left the rest unsaid: that even if she joined hands with Zhangsun Bodhi, they might not defeat him.
Cui Buqu was unfazed. "No matter. Someone will come to help you."
"Feng Xiao?" asked Qiao Xian.
After a nod, Cui Buqu had a thought: "Where did you learn so many torture techniques?"
The Zuoyue Bureau was an agency that handled cases and investigations; it wasn't a prison of the Ministry of Justice, and it certainly wouldn't use techniques like "Blessings as One Wishes" or "Exquisite from Every Angle." Even the Ministry of Justice hadn't heard of such things.
Qiao Xian looked sheepish. "I just rattled off a load of nonsense. I only wanted to scare him."
Cui Buqu coughed twice, slightly relieved. "Excellent. Tailoring your words to the one you're addressing—this is something I would do too. I used to worry you were too rigid and would only be able to bully honest souls like Pei Jingzhe, while people like Feng Xiao would run circles around you."
Qiao Xian was speechless a moment. "Are you having pains in your chest again? This subordinate called for a doctor earlier. He's waiting in the front hall now; your lordship can go for an examination."
Cui Buqu's feet had been taking him to the front hall, but now he veered sharply away. Qiao Xian heard him mutter, "I just remembered. I touched the corpse with this hand, and I haven't washed it yet. I should go wash now."
Wordlessly, Qiao Xian stepped forward and grabbed Cui Buqu. She began dragging him toward the front hall without compunction. "I'll have water and soap sent in. You were drugged with incense of helplessness. The residual poison was never expelled, and you spent a night exposed to the elements. You must let the doctor look at you!"
Qiao Xian usually obeyed Cui Buqu unconditionally. Only on the matter of his health did she become insistent. She'd seen Cui Buqu ill and bedridden too recently, coughing until he choked on his own blood. After the latest incident, everyone in the Zuoyue Bureau developed a tacit understanding: as long as they were there, Cui Buqu would never suffer that greatly again.
Cui Buqu wasn't a good-tempered man, but now, rather than scowling and castigating his subordinates as usual, he shut his mouth and let Qiao Xian draw him toward the front hall.
She couldn't help adding, "Last year…that incident. I don't want to see it happen again."
Cui Buqu was silent a moment. "It won't."
Last year, Cui Buqu had fallen seriously ill and almost died, scaring everyone in the Zuoyue Bureau out of their wits. Song Liangchen, one of the deputy chiefs, had strictly forbidden Cui Buqu from leaving his bed. He'd called in doctors to attend Cui Buqu in shifts, so that there was one at Cui Buqu's bedside night and day.
But Cui Buqu had been restless from birth. The instant he felt a little better he got up and began running hither and thither, yearning to leap from the capital to the ends of the earth. When the order for the negotiations with Apa Khagan's envoy came down, the expressions of everyone in the Zuoyue Bureau had been pitch-black—except Cui Buqu, who was in high spirits. He devised a vast and meticulous game of chess that lasted almost two months, and he didn't stop at pulling Feng Xiao onto the board; he placed himself there too.
Qiao Xian couldn't help but sigh at the thought, and her grip on Cui Buqu tightened. "If a doctor prescribes medicine, you must drink it."
The corner of Cui Buqu's mouth twitched. "I'm really fine."
"Then run a lap around that osmanthus tree right there. If you don't cough, you can skip the medicine."
Cui Buqu's face grew stormy. "Nonsense, who do you take my venerable self for? You can't order me around!"
They glared at each other, Qian Xiao refusing to back down. Finally, it was Cui Buqu who broke first. "Fine, I'll drink it!" He rolled his eyes.
Qiao Xian's lips curved in a small smile.
The maids here had all been hired as temporary help. Though their backgrounds were clean, they weren't members of the Zuoyue Bureau and therefore didn't know much about Cui Buqu's and Qiao Xian's relationship. They all thought Qiao Xian carried a torch for Cui Buqu—and that perhaps the sentiment was mutual. How could they know Cui Buqu's place in Qiao Xian's heart was far weightier than that?
To her, he was master and father, brother and friend.
Many years ago, before she was the woman she was now, she'd found herself in desperate circumstances. Her body had been covered in bruises, her left eye almost blind. She'd lain in the snow, her breath slowly fading, thinking it didn't matter if she never woke up. Whether she lived or died, nothing in this world would change. It was Cui Buqu who'd passed by and plucked her from the streets.
Qiao Xian knew she was merely a bit of side trouble he'd picked up. He had no particular interest in her—but if not for him, the woman she was today would never exist.
It wasn't until she'd been with Cui Buqu some time that she realized how fragile his body was. He was so delicate even a slight breeze could bring on a chill that would leave him bedridden for days. He fell seriously ill at the drop of a hat and looked like he might pass away any second. If they hadn't always managed to find a doctor in time, by now the grass on his tomb would surely have grown tall.
Yet it was this same sickly Cui Buqu who possessed an eidetic memory, who could strategize to perfection, who knew the stories of the jianghu like the back of his hand. He grasped all the world's affairs without needing to step out of the house.
She remembered something Cui Buqu had once said: If you believe your existence is insignificant, no one else will take you seriously either. I'm different from you. I am who I am. Even if I fall ill, even if I'm on the brink of death, even if my limbs are crippled, no one can replace me, Cui Buqu.
This kind of man—even if his life could be extinguished at any moment, he burned so brightly that no one could ignore him.
There was no doubt about it: the one in charge of the Zuoyue Bureau wasn't the strongest martial artist, Zhangsun Bodhi, nor the brilliant strategist Song Liangchen—and nor was it Qiao Xian. It was Cui Buqu. Zhangsun's martial arts could protect many people, but it was Cui Buqu who set everyone's hearts at ease.
There were many problems in the world that could be resolved with force, and there were also many that couldn't. But all these problems, when they fell into Cui Buqu's hands, would ultimately be resolved. It looked like Qiao Xian and the others were protecting Cui Buqu, but in truth it was Cui Buqu who protected them. As long as Cui Buqu was there, the Zuoyue Bureau was as stable as bedrock, and they were all free from worry. But though Cui Buqu had a heart of iron, there was one thing he hated more than anything else.
And that was drinking medicine.
No matter how much medicine one drank, even if they grew accustomed to its bitter and peculiar taste, they would never come to love it. To make matters worse, Cui Buqu could scarcely go a week without being made to drink several bowls of the stuff. Between holding his nose and drinking all that nauseatingly bitter medicine or letting Feng Xiao drug him with more incense of helplessness, he'd prefer the latter—at least then he could endure the suffering under his own willpower.
But Qiao Xian would never let him off that easily. So it was that, when Apa Khagan's envoy first laid eyes on the court ambassador she was supposed to negotiate with, she encountered a stormy, sullen face.
Since ancient times, whenever two countries met in negotiations, the envoys were almost always men. This was established convention.
In the Khaganate, the khagan's wife was known as the khatun. Though the khatun wielded some power in military and political affairs, the Khaganate wasn't a nation that held women in high regard. Thus, when the Zuoyue Bureau saw that Apa had sent a woman to negotiate, their first reaction was to doubt her identity.
The female envoy arrived with two guards and stayed within the manor for two days in seclusion. Her curiosity never drove her to come out for a look around, nor did she take the initiative to call upon Cui Buqu. She merely sat in her quarters and waited quietly for Cui Buqu's summons. Her patience alone was extraordinary.
The woman before them now wore a dark red dress, the styling obviously Göktürk, and even her hair accessories and braids had a foreign charm. Her face was slightly tanned, the corners of her eyes weathered by wind and sand, but she was nonetheless an exotic beauty. This beauty wasn't the kind appreciated by the people of the Central Plains, who were used to fair and delicate skin, brows like distant mountains, and eyes like autumn pools. Instead, her beauty bespoke a powerful vitality that wouldn't bend to rain or wind.
Cui Buqu had just drunk a large bowl of bitter medicine and was in no mood to appreciate the unique allure of this female envoy. As soon as they were seated, he got straight to the point. "You are the envoy sent by Apa Khagan?"
It wasn't Cui Buqu's way to be overly welcoming, but in this case, his attitude gave her the mistaken impression that he looked down on her for being a woman.
"Correct. My Chinese name is Jinlian. May I ask Your Excellency's esteemed name?"
"Cui Buqu." Cui Buqu arched a brow. "You're named for the golden lotuses that grow on the grasslands?"
Jinlian looked surprised. "Correct. My Göktürk name comes from the golden lotus, so I'm called simply Jinlian in Chinese."
"Who are you to Apa Khagan? Why are you his representative? And how can I trust that what you say is the will of the khagan?"
Irked, Jinlian said, "I am Apa Khagan's khatun." She paused, then added, "The lesser khatun."
Cui Buqu had done his research on Apa Khagan, and he knew Apa Khagan had two khatuns. A lesser khatun held the same status a concubine might in the Central Plains. However, Apa's greater khatun was getting on in years and didn't handle such weighty matters. It was therefore the lesser khatun who most often supported him in affairs both major and minor. The fact that Jinlian had come personally demonstrated the importance of these negotiations to Apa Khagan.
Of course, for Jinlian to come herself, she must also possess courage and charisma no less than that of a man. It was small wonder she felt slighted when she saw this Central Plains dynasty had sent an envoy as feeble and sickly as Cui Buqu.
Noting her obvious displeasure, Qiao Xian said, "Our master here is the chief of the Zuoyue Bureau, with a rank equivalent to the Six Ministers. Even if you've never heard of the Zuoyue Bureau, you must have heard of Great Sui's Minister of Justice, who was formerly the Minister of Capital Affairs."
That year, the Ministry of Capital Affairs had been renamed the Ministry of Justice. Though this news had yet to reach the Khaganate, Jinlian had indeed heard of the Minister of Capital Affairs. Within the Department of State Affairs, the Six Ministers sat beneath the Left and Right Vice Directors. If Cui Buqu was equal to one of the Six Ministers, his official position was a high one.
Ruffled feathers somewhat soothed, she said, "It seems Cui-langjun is an accomplished man. It is I who was ignorant."
Cui Buqu inclined his head slightly. He didn't beat around the bush: "I trust Apa Khagan has an important message for us if the lesser khatun has come herself?"
Jinlian too seemed to dislike going around in circles or using obfuscating language. She answered promptly, "Yes. Ishbara is ambitious; he wishes to foment a war. I came for the sake of the peace between our two nations. How does your eminent emperor view this matter?"
Her words were lofty, but in truth, the rapid expansion of Ishbara's authority and influence had enraged the heavily encroached-upon Apa Khagan and forced him to this extremity. At Jinlian's urging, he'd realized the enemy of an enemy was a friend and sent her in search of an alliance with the Sui dynasty.
"Of course, His Majesty too wishes for long-term peace and stability at the border," Cui Buqu said. "However, Ishbara is determined to disturb Great Sui's peace; what can we do but counter force with force? If Apa Khagan is willing to work with us, a portion of Ishbara's territory may be allotted to him once the situation is resolved. You need only travel to Daxing City each year and offer quality horses as tribute."
Jinlian refused unequivocally. "We are not vassals of the Sui dynasty!"
"The lesser khatun doesn't wish to consider this further?" Cui Buqu smiled thinly.
Indignant, Jinlian snapped, "At first I thought you sincere. But it seems the people of the Central Plains will always try to take advantage of others! We would be the ones assisting you with Ishbara, so why should we submit to you?"
Cui Buqu was unruffled. "Our people have split our forces into several groups; two are even now heading to Bagha and Tardu Khagan respectively. As far as I know, they are both also at odds with Ishbara, so there's a good chance they'll agree to a proposal of mutual cooperation. If Bagha and Tardu agree and only Apa Khagan refuses, won't it be on your head?"
Jinlian's expression shifted.
Cui Buqu smiled. "Lesser Khatun, you are in the land of the Hans. If you complete this mission successfully, the chips in your hands will increase, and you will climb higher. But what if you fail? What awaits you may be the loss of Apa's Khagan's favor. In that case, will you still be able to realize your wishes?"
Jinlian looked at the man before her. She hadn't taken this man from the Central Plains, with his stark-white face and frail constitution—especially so compared to a Göktürk man—seriously. She'd felt disdain and dissatisfaction toward the emperor of the Central Plains for sending such an invalid to treat with her. But now his gaze was like an arrow, piercing the depths of her innermost mind. All her desires, concealed and unknown to others, had been bared to him in an instant.
Her back broke out in a cold sweat. "I don't know…what you're saying." She steadied herself with some effort.
"No matter." Cui Buqu looked at her with eyes full of pity. "It's just that after tonight, you may not have the chance to speak again."
"What do you mean?" Jinlian was instantly on guard. "You wish to kill me?" But why would Cui Buqu do such a thing?
Cui Buqu shook his head. "Not me; someone else."
Who?
As if in response to her unasked question, something whistled down from overhead. Jinlian rolled to the side without thinking. The next moment, the place where she'd knelt and the table in front of her were smashed to kindling.
The two Göktürk guards who'd accompanied her cried out, leaping forward to confront the intruder. But when Jinlian caught sight of the newly arrived enemy, her face drained of color.
Cui Buqu brought his sleeves together with perfect poise, as if he didn't realize the newcomer wanted to kill him along with Jinlian. He turned to her with great amusement and said, "Speak of the devil! The number one martial artist of the Khaganate, Fo'er. You must be familiar with him. Tonight our humble abode overflows with distinguished company. All we lack is a jar of good wine!"