SEVERAL DAYS passed in a flash.
For all their intelligence-gathering, Cui Buqu and Feng Xiao had no firsthand experience with the two major powers in Qiemo. Only now did they come to understand the true influence of local kingpin Xing Mao.
Since the day they received the invitation, decorations had begun to fill the city. In the space of a few days, the streets of Qiemo were festooned with red lanterns and silk ribbon. Qiemo wasn't large, but such lavish festivities were something only the wealthiest of families could bear.
Powerful as a clan and successful in business—this wasn't sufficient to describe Xing Mao's influence. He was a descendant of the king of Shanshan himself. When their homeland was invaded, the king fled to Qiemo with the contents of the royal treasury and more than four thousand surviving households. Three generations later, Xing Mao's operations touched every corner of the city. It was said his businesses had branches as close as Liugong City and as far away as the capitals of Great Sui and Southern Chen.
The greater one's wealth, the more one needed to guard it. When Xing Mao was five years old, the king of Shanshan had invited many martial arts masters to teach his grandson. Unfortunately, Xing Mao was a mediocre student—even now, his skills were third-class at best. But he didn't lack for bodyguards. Whenever he went out, it was with a mighty procession, ostentatious as any parade.
When Feng Xiao and Cui Buqu arrived at the gates of the Xing residence, they were met with an awful din. The street jostled with the carriages of guests. Guards stood in neat ranks not only before the entrance, but around the entire manor. As they approached the gates, Feng Xiao and Cui Buqu spied the third steward, flanked by two guards as he welcomed guests.
Cui Buqu smiled. "A sight not at all inferior to the crown prince and the Prince of Jin's royal tours. This is what happens when the emperor's influence is distant. Xing Mao no longer has a Kingdom of Shanshan, but he still fancies himself ruler of these lands."
Feng Xiao brought a thoughtful finger to his chin. "They say his subordinates and family call him king in his presence."
Carriages were parked all around them, many exquisitely appointed. They alone had come from the inn on foot, without any carriage or accompanying attendants. Most of the guests were prominent figures in the city or members of the jianghu with connections to Xing Mao. In comparison, Cui Buqu and Feng Xiao appeared downright shabby. They even had to carry their gift themselves.
Xing Mao had invited the nephew of the king of Kucha, so Cui Buqu had to attend. If Jinlian were to also attend, the only suitable disguise for her was a maid—but a single maid accompanying the king's nephew would also be conspicuous. Cui Buqu had ordered Qiao Xian to stay behind and protect her lest Fo'er threaten them again. But as a consequence, he and Feng Xiao looked all the more drab beside the other guests with their throngs of servants and guards.
They ignored the curious gazes that followed them on all sides—at that moment, their thick skins came in handy. As they took their places behind the other guests, completely at ease and without the slightest hint of embarrassment, the pair took the opportunity to observe the crowd with great interest.
Every guest had brought gifts, both large and small. Someone, eager to flaunt their wealth, had even brought a jade tree as tall as a man, hung with gold and silver. It drew countless exclamations of wonder. In contrast, Cui Buqu only carried a box the length of his arm.
The third steward was accustomed to seeing all sorts of precious gifts. When he saw the simple box, more like a complimentary gift a shop might offer when purchasing candied fruits than a lavish birthday present, he was momentarily stunned.
He looked at this guest's invitation again. Kucha produced large quantities of iron—it was rich in resources and far from destitute as a nation. Yet Cui Buqu and Feng Xiao's attire, while not cheap, was still a far cry from the luxurious fabrics one would expect.
The steward knew better than to comment, but the servant beside him couldn't curb his look of contempt as he received the box.
"What cheek!" Cui Buqu was displeased. "How dare you turn your nose up at our gift."
The attendant holding the box stared at him, baffled.
Cui Buqu's tone was haughty: "A-Feng, open the box and show them our gift."
In full view of the crowd, Feng Xiao, in a rare moment of obedience, took the box from the attendant. After untying the silk ribbon, he pulled out a plain-looking dagger.
"Watch," said Feng Xiao.
He drew the dagger from its sheath; its blade was glazed a dense frosty white, as if encased in ice and snow. The crowd watched as Feng Xiao lifted his hand and gave it a light flick. The attendant who'd taken the box was still waiting for something to happen when his clothes suddenly fell away, leaving him naked as the day he was born.
A woman's scream finally brought the attendant to his senses. Mortified, he turned beet red and dashed away to clothe himself.
Cui Buqu barked out a mocking laugh, then said loftily, "Duke Xing has seen all manner of treasures. What do you take us for? How could we bring some common gift? We would be no different from peasants or nobodies."
After witnessing the sharpness of the dagger, the crowd marveled—it seemed Kucha's reputation was well-deserved. No one dared look down on Cui Buqu.
The third steward, recalling his duty, quickly took the dagger with both hands and handed it to an attendant at his side with great care. He smiled. "I can only apologize for my subordinate's rudeness toward Shang-langjun. Your lordship, I beg you to forgive us, if only for the sake of my master's banquet today. Please come in! Your seats are prepared; this way please!"
All the guests before them had been led in by attendants. Only Cui Buqu and Feng Xiao were granted the third steward's personal attention.
The grandeur of the Xing residence went without saying. Thanks to the large number of attendees this year, it was impossible to fit all the guests inside the main hall. To accommodate everyone, they had spread the banquet over both the inside and outside. Only a small number of tables, meant for Xing Mao's most valued guests, were placed within the hall. The courtyard outside seated many more, and it was here that most of the guests were directed.
Even with the third steward guiding them, Cui Buqu and Feng Xiao didn't qualify for the interior seats. The steward led them to one of the tables in the courtyard closest to the entrance of the hall. It was probably an excellent seat. Cui Buqu knew initial arrangements would have placed them even further back—it was only thanks to their little altercation at the gate that the steward made this last-minute change.
He peered inside. In addition to the two seats for the hosts at the front, there were four more on either side. A total of eight distinguished guests. One of them must be Duan Qihu.
Cui Buqu made a face. "What's this? A relative of the Kuchean royal family doesn't merit a seat inside?"
The third steward's smile was fixed on his face. He cupped his hands politely. "I beg your lordship's understanding. Those eight seats are for my lord's dearest friends of many years. They are not assigned based on rank or status. The distinguished guests in the courtyard include such eminent personages as the leader of Qionghai Sect, juniors from the Wei family of Guanzhong, and the young master of the Xianlin Sect, among others. Their seats are all set far behind yours!"
Cui Buqu waved his hand with fake impatience. "Enough. The madam of the family is celebrating her sixtieth birthday; I have no interest in starting petty squabbles."
The third steward smiled wider. "Your lordship is truly a magnanimous man."
He still had many guests to receive, so with an apology, he left. Feng Xiao sat beside Cui Buqu, plucked a grape from the platter on the table, and tossed it in his mouth. He peered around curiously.
The guests took their seats one after the other. Four of the eight seats in the inner hall were filled. Feng Xiao didn't recognize any of the occupants, but he heard Cui Buqu say, "In the inner hall—that looks like Wei Huofang from the Wei family of Guanzhong. I don't recognize anyone else; they're probably not from the jianghu."
"Xing Mao will definitely place Duan Qihu's seat just below his own as a show of respect," said Feng Xiao. "We're too far away here. It's inconvenient if we need to make any move."
"We'll have to play it by ear then," said Cui Buqu. "By the way, where did you find such an incredibly sharp dagger?"
Feng Xiao finished his grapes, then skewered a piece of honey melon with a silver fork and popped it in his mouth. He smiled. "I infused it with my own internal energy. It's more than sharp—using it to split a mountain wouldn't be out of the question."
"But when you drew the dagger, weren't there wisps of white around it?" Cui Buqu asked suspiciously.
Feng Xiao chuckled. "I placed the dagger in the snow for a few days, then used my own internal energy to awaken the frost on it. Wouldn't that create your white vapor? I bought that thing at a weapons shop on the east side of Qiemo. A mere three hundred coppers and we get to sample these wonderful delicacies. Well worth the price if you ask me!"
Cui Buqu was speechless a moment. "Is the Jiejian Bureau so impoverished you can't even procure a decent gift?"
"I traveled thousands of miles to this border city for an investigation," Feng Xiao said with complete conviction. "You think that doesn't require money? Border cities are dry and dusty. Without my flower dew and smoothing oil, how could my hair and skin maintain their splendor? Your Qiao Xian is so stingy. Ask her to buy some hair oil and it's like I'm killing her. My venerable self has had no choice but to spend from my own pocket."
What could Cui Buqu say? If Feng Xiao had pretended to pout like a maiden, Cui Buqu could've at least fired back a sarcastic remark or two. But right then Feng Xiao wasn't putting on an act—he was utterly uncompromising, utterly imperious. Cui Buqu imagined Feng Xiao sitting in their room at the inn, feet planted wide like a mighty general, shaving his stubble and combing oil through his precious hair. He couldn't stop his mouth from twitching.
"Men need to groom themselves too, don't think they don't." Feng Xiao was warming to his lecture. "When someone's face is as peerless as mine, how can they honor the favor the heavens bestowed upon them if they don't cherish it? Your looks are a far sight below this venerable one, but you're still a handsome man. Alas, your body is sickly and will age faster than most. If you don't take care, I fear in another few years…" He chuckled.
Cui Buqu knew nothing good would follow, but he couldn't stop himself from asking, "In another few years, what?"
"I'll really be able to call you Daddy."
Cui Buqu stared at the platter of fruit for a good while. He was afraid he'd really lose it this time and grind Feng Xiao's face into the grapes.
A voice interrupted his dangerous thoughts.
"Pardon the intrusion. My name is Chen Ji. Would the lady and gentleman be so kind as to share their esteemed names?"
Cui Buqu raised his head.
The young man—Chen Ji—had taken a seat beside Feng Xiao. His words were clearly directed at "the lady." Cui Buqu was an afterthought.
"Ji…which Ji?" The punchable smirk Feng Xiao had worn while bickering with Cui Buqu had vanished, replaced with a shy smile. His gaze flitted slyly over Chen Ji, and he gracefully batted his long lashes.
Such tactics had no effect on Cui Buqu, but they clearly worked on men who didn't know Feng Xiao. At the very least, Chen Ji was immediately affected. His gaze seemed to sparkle as he looked at Feng Xiao.
"Ji, composed of the characters Yu and Qi. As when the sky clears after rain."
Chen Ji. Cui Buqu put the name with the person. A moment later, he'd recalled the man's background: the young master of the Xianlin Sect of Guanzhong.
The Xianlin Sect wasn't classed among such great sects as Xuandu Mountain or the Tiantai Sect, but it was still a name of some repute within the jianghu. Chen Ji's skills were average, and he was known to have an arrogant and willful personality. He was not unlike Lin Yong, the young master of Yandang Mountain Estate. Perhaps all wealthy children who'd been pampered from birth and never experienced any setbacks were similar.
Though Chen Ji's martial arts were nothing extraordinary, his father was the leader of the Xianlin Sect. Thus the Xing family had placed him in the seat next to Cui Buqu—a sensible choice.
Another glance at the inner hall revealed that the host and guests had all arrived. Duan Qihu and Gao Yi sat just below Xing Mao, on his left and right respectively. Next to Xing Mao was an older matron—presumably Xing Mao's mother, the guest of honor.
Cui Buqu had been contemplating how to get closer to Duan Qihu all this time. With the appearance of Chen Ji, a plan had suddenly presented itself.
Feng Xiao seemed to have read his mind. He flashed a smirk and winked at Cui Buqu, then shoved the fruit platter across the table.
This man thrived on chaos. Cui Buqu rolled his eyes. Then he picked up the fruit platter and threw it to the ground with a great crash.
Instantly, the platter shattered to pieces, fruit rolling across the floor in all directions. Who could ignore such a commotion? The banquet went dead silent as everyone looked over—Xing Mao's group included.