"IF WE DIDN'T take him hostage, would Apa Khagan be willing to see us?" Cui Buqu asked. "The Khagan sent Jinlian Khatun to the Central Plains to treat with us. We've come in good faith
as representatives of Great Sui, yet this is how the khagan greets us. Truly, it chills the heart."
"Who sent Jinlian?" bellowed Apa Khagan. "The whole thing was her idea. If not for these guests with me who've come from so far, I'd punish her severely today!" His gaze seemed to drift toward Fo'er, who lowered his head and drank his tea.
When Cui Buqu saw this, everything became clear.
Something had happened before their arrival. Now they knew what—Fo'er had beat them here and bribed or intimidated Apa Khagan. The fearful khagan had capitulated, not daring to offend the foremost Göktürk martial artist. On seeing Cui Buqu's company and their apparent lack of manpower, he'd compared the two parties and picked the more advantageous side.
"The khagan fears offending Ishbara," said Cui Buqu coldly. "Does he not fear offending the Sui dynasty?"
"A mere three of you," another voice sneered, "and you think you speak for the Sui dynasty? If the people of the Central Plains are all so weak and useless, we have nothing to be afraid of. The lesser
khatun has obviously been deceived by you—perhaps you seduced her into agreeing to lead you here."
The speaker was the young Göktürk nobleman who'd cursed them earlier. For him to be sitting in the khagan's yurt at his young age, he had to be someone extraordinary—the son of Apa Khagan, or a nephew. That he'd received no censure for kicking the female slave was a similar mark of his status. He'd clearly intended it as a threat; as the saying went, he'd made a show of killing the chicken to scare the monkey.
Unfortunately, Cui Buqu was no monkey, and neither was Feng Xiao. Before the young man had finished speaking, Feng Xiao was already rushing toward him.
Fo'er had been watching them carefully all this time; he didn't stand by. He dashed over to intercept Feng Xiao's attack.
The two of them were soon engaged in an all-out brawl within the yurt. True qi surged and swelled, overturning cups and plates. The bystanders paled in fright and retreated to the sides of the yurt, yet Apa Khagan gave no order to stop. It seemed he wished to see who was stronger before making his decision.
Feng Xiao shook his sleeves, and a table beside him was flung into the air, spinning toward that outspoken Göktürk nobleman. In a panic, the young man trod on his own robe and stumbled to the floor. Fo'er neither blinked nor turned as he sent a burst of true qi from his palm. The table cracked in two midair, saving the nobleman from grievous injury.
Fo'er had failed to defeat Feng Xiao in Liugong City, but he was still a powerful martial artist. Even if he fell short of Feng Xiao's skill, they were well matched. Too many parties had been involved at the time, forcing Fo'er to split his focus. Now he brought his full strength to bear, and his profound internal energy and imperious style consumed Feng Xiao's total attention.
The young man, seeing that he was no longer in danger from Feng Xiao, glanced toward Cui Buqu on the sidelines and sneered. He waved a hand for his men to seize both Cui Buqu and Qiao Xian.
He'd obviously never been to the Central Plains and didn't know an unwritten rule of its martial circles: when it came to women who wandered the jianghu, the more beautiful they appeared, the less one should provoke them.
The guards who had pounced toward Cui Buqu found themselves rolling on the floor: their reward for underestimating Qiao Xian. To subdue a mob, one must first capture its leader—she had learned this principle well from Cui Buqu and swept without hesitation toward the Göktürk noble. The noble saw a blur, then felt sharp pain in his arm as the world began to spin. The next thing he knew, his face was pressed to the ground.
A slender foot, more delicate than that of the average Göktürk woman, crushed him to the floor. In other circumstances, the young man might have grabbed at and caressed such a foot, but he didn't dare entertain the thought now. This foot was terrifyingly strong; he couldn't break free no matter how he struggled. If anything, it pressed down harder, mashing his face into the rug. Agonized tears seeped into the carpet as he cursed her up and down, but it was all false bravado. In this position, he wasn't intimidating in the least.
Qiao Xian didn't speak much Turkic, but she could hear the venom in his voice. She bent and yanked on his arms, making his face twist in pain as he pleaded with Apa Khagan for help. This man had belittled and mocked them, calling the Central Plainsmen lowly trash. Now he was howling on the ground, not unlike the female slave he had abused.
"Stop!" Apa Khagan finally roared.
Göktürk soldiers brandishing swords rushed into the royal yurt but dared not approach—Feng Xiao and Fo'er were still fighting.
"You claim to have come as guests," said Apa Khagan angrily. "Is this the behavior of guests?!"
"Aren't you Göktürks of the opinion that might makes right? We're simply following your example while in your lands," said Cui Buqu indifferently. "When you're ready to receive us, we can sit down for a proper discussion."
In the center of the yurt, the two martial arts masters never paused. Other than Apa Khagan and Jinlian—the khagan some distance away and surrounded by guards, the khatun still keeping her composure—the rest had either fled the royal yurt in fear or were cowering in a corner to avoid becoming a casualty themselves.
Only Cui Buqu remained in place, proud and unbending. Despite his sickly complexion, he showed no hint of weakness, standing as straight and tall as a young pine within this den of wolves.
Apa Khagan sputtered with fury and alarm, hesitating over whether to call for his guards to seize Cui Buqu. The man seemed to have glimpsed his thoughts, because he spoke first.
"My companions will have their hands around your neck before they can take a step forward. What do you think? Are your people faster, or mine? Would you like to make a bet? Your life against mine."
Apa Khagan had no interest in gambling his precious life. Realizing he had no chance of victory, he shouted, "Stop! Both of you are my honored guests; let there be no conflict between you. Tomorrow, there will be a contest at the Eight Tribes Conference. Our guests are welcome to decide the victor then!"
Feng Xiao and Fo'er sprang apart, landing on opposite sides as they stared at each other without expression.
Despite Fo'er's outward composure, his blood was pumping, and it took him a moment to smooth his harried breath. One sleeve had been torn, leaving a shallow wound. Feng Xiao's sleeve had also lost a corner, but he remained calm and relaxed. Other than a few new wrinkles creasing his clothes, he looked no different than before.
In this battle, it seemed Feng Xiao had come out on top.
"The khagan's son called us lowly bastards from the Central Plains. How did we return to being honored guests? I carry with me a document penned by the emperor of Great Sui himself, and we arrived in the name of peace between our nations. If the khagan allows his son to insult us without apology, he can't blame us for finding it unacceptable!" Cui Buqu's manner was haughty; he refused to give Apa Khagan any out. Instead, he kept pushing, demanding an apology from the young man presently under Qiao Xian's boot.
The moment he'd called for help, Cui Buqu had known he must be Apa Khagan's youngest son, Ade.
Apa Khagan was furious, but he couldn't leave his son to be humiliated. This group possessed incredible martial arts. He couldn't afford to be ruthless—even if he chose to fight, these Central Plainsmen would likely walk out unscathed.
"Ade, apologize to our honored guests. You were first at fault."
"I won't…ack!" Prince Ade's bluster was squashed as Qiao Xian ground his face into the rug. He was used to throwing his weight around; he treated even Jinlian like she was nothing. Though the khatun had remained quiet throughout, she couldn't help the gleeful Serves him right that came to mind.
Prince Ade had no choice but to apologize, albeit indignantly. When Qiao Xian finally lifted her foot, several guards stepped forward to help him up. Burning with shame, he sent a vicious glare toward Cui Buqu's group before storming out of the yurt.
Apa Khagan forced a smile. "The Shule tribe declined to send a representative to the Eight Tribes Conference, but now we have honored guests from the Central Plains to fill their place. It will surely be a conference to remember. This place is no longer fit to sit in; everyone, please go and rest. I will be honored to host you at our banquet later tonight."
At that moment, a servant entered and stooped to whisper something into Apa Khagan's ear. The khagan paled, then shot a glance at Fo'er.
"These guests from the Central Plains arrived unexpectedly. It seems we're short on accommodations, so our new guests must stay next to Fo'er-xiansheng. Does Fo'er-xiansheng have any objections?"
"Since the khagan made the arrangements," said Fo'er, "I naturally must accept."
***
A short time later, they found themselves in a lavishly appointed yurt. It seemed Apa Khagan had no intention of slighting them—after such a shock, he was done stirring up trouble.
Still Qiao Xian worried that the Göktürks would ambush them during the night. Their hosts had the greater numbers; even if she went all out, she mightn't be able to guarantee Cui Buqu's safety.
Feng Xiao, on the other hand, seemed entirely at ease. He merely asked Qiao Xian to inquire whether there really was nowhere else to stay in the royal capital but here, right next to Fo'er's lodgings.
Qiao Xian returned with a plate of cut melon, supposedly a gift from the first prince. He'd also asked her to deliver a message: if the honored guests were uncomfortable where they were, he would be happy to host them.
The wealth of the Göktürks was modest compared to the aristocracy of the Central Plains, but it didn't stop their upper class from indulging themselves. Their group's yurt wasn't as expansive as the royal one, but it was still spacious. Thick wool rugs cushioned their feet, and beds had been placed along the sides. Colorful woolen tapestries hung on the walls, and the bronze tea service on the table was inlaid with gold and turquoise. It was clearly from the Western Regions, though whether it'd been purchased or stolen was impossible to tell.
Feng Xiao took a seat and reclined against a pillow as he listened to Qiao Xian recite the first prince's message. "Then there's no need to worry." Seeing her look of puzzlement, he sighed at Cui Buqu. "You called Pei Jingzhe stupid, but yours aren't much brighter."
"Instead of putting your energy toward healing your injuries, Deputy Chief Feng insists on idle chatter?" said Cui Buqu indifferently. "Do you believe yourself invincible?"
"To think you pay such close attention to me," said Feng Xiao with a smile. "You noticed."
Only then did Qiao Xian realize Feng Xiao was a little pale.
Feng Xiao untied his sash, exposing his shoulder. It bore a dark red mark; obviously Fo'er's handiwork.
Martial arts practitioners protected their bodies with true qi. Any injury that left a mark without an open wound came from internal damage.
"Fo'er managed to hurt you?" Qiao Xian asked in surprise. She'd sensed Fo'er had grown a little stronger since their last encounter, but as she hadn't fought him personally, she couldn't be certain. If he'd injured Feng Xiao, it appeared her instincts were correct.
Feng Xiao retained his blithe attitude. "I don't imagine he's much better off. He definitely had to swallow back some blood there. He's putting on a brave face, but he'll have aggravated his internal injury. I'm sure he's also busy recuperating."
After saying his piece, he finally closed his eyes to tend to his injuries.
"So there are other suitable accommodations, yet Apa Khagan placed us next to Fo'er," said Cui Buqu. "He wishes to sit on the mountain and watch the tigers fight before deciding whom to ally with."
"The man's a scoundrel," Qiao Xian fumed. "Before, Jinlian… Actually, even though we were in a bind, Jinlian never spoke up for us. None of these Göktürks are trustworthy at all!"
"We still have opportunities," said Cui Buqu. "Tomorrow is the start of the Eight Tribes Conference. We must make an impressive showing. Not only to defeat Fo'er: every tribe must know the people of the Central Plains are not to be trifled with. The stronger we appear, the more respect we'll command."
Minutes later, Jinlian Khatun, that untrustworthy Göktürk, came knocking. Before they could say a word of greeting, she blurted: "You're really in trouble now!"