CUI BUQU WAS DETAINED in the second prince's yurt. Over a hundred guards kept watch outside. They'd notice even a fly slipping inside, let alone a person. No matter how formidable Feng Xiao was, he would find it difficult to rescue Cui Buqu and come out unscathed.
They'd sworn they needed only a day, from dawn to dusk. This time would pass in the blink of an eye; even Apa Khagan was willing to wait.
Feng Xiao first returned to their yurt, where Qiao Xian was waiting. She'd already caught wind of what had transpired and scrambled out of bed in a fury. "How could you leave the lord chief there by himself?!"
Feng Xiao shrugged, the picture of helplessness. "Your lord chief asked to stay behind. What was I to do?"
Qiao Xian was so furious she could no longer even pretend to be friendly. "That's impossible. I don't believe you!"
"Then go ask him yourself."
"Of course I'm going!" she yelled before storming out in a towering rage.
Yet there was still no peace for Feng Xiao. Moments later, Jinlian arrived, looking as anxious as Qiao Xian.
She'd thrown in her lot with these Sui envoys. They were all in the same leaky boat, and it was far too late to get off. All she could do was grit her teeth and sit tight. "Feng-langjun. How do you intend to find the murderer? If I can help, please tell me how."
"I haven't the slightest idea."
"It's nearly dawn, and we only have a single day." Jinlian wrung her hands. "The khagan was ready to kill Cui-xiansheng out there—even if you can stall, it won't be for long. If you can't find the real murderer, his life is in danger!"
"Ah, I do have one idea," said Feng Xiao. "Maybe you've already guessed it."
Jinlian was struck by a deep sense of foreboding. "Please speak."
"Cui Buqu and I oversee the Zuoyue and Jiejian Bureaus respectively," said Feng Xiao. "Under normal circumstances, we keep to our own domains. Allow me to draw an analogy—we're rather like your first and second princes. We share no warm feelings and delight in each other's misfortune. Perhaps you understand now?"
"…I don't."
Feng Xiao put his hands together. "Let me be plain. Cui Buqu has been captured. If I do nothing, the Zuoyue Bureau loses its chief and I have one less rival. To me, this is a good thing. Why should I come up with ways to help him escape?"
Jinlian was flabbergasted. "But…but didn't you come here to form an alliance with us on behalf of the Sui dynasty?"
"That was Cui Buqu's errand, not mine," said Feng Xiao. "I merely came along to take a piece of the credit." He spoke matter-of-factly. "Should we succeed, it's a feather in my cap. Should we fail, I can simply go back and blame it all on Cui Buqu. It's hardly something I need to concern myself with. Don't you agree?"
Jinlian was speechless.
Feng Xiao was all smiles. "He loves plotting against others, but this time he's fallen into the pit he dug himself. Isn't it enough that I'm not clapping and cheering? Why should I reach down and pull him out?"
With this, he rose and stepped out of the yurt, leaving Jinlian staring after him.
"He must be wallowing in misery right now," Feng Xiao muttered to himself. "It's too bad I'm deprived of the sight of Daoist Master Cui scratching his head in frustration. He must be entirely at a loss for what to do. But we're colleagues, after all. This time tomorrow, I'll at least see to his funeral."
Jinlian watched him saunter off, her head spinning. She felt the urge to rush to Cui Buqu and tell him he'd judged wrongly, that Feng Xiao wouldn't try to rescue him. That in fact, he was prepared to stand back and watch him die as he clapped his hands with glee.
But perhaps Cui Buqu already had his own strategy for keeping this boat afloat. If so, running to him now might ruin Cui Buqu's plans. Jinlian stood rooted to the spot, tormented by indecision.
Apa Khagan knew he had no one under his command capable of restricting Feng Xiao's movements, so he hadn't tried. Instead, he simply dispatched someone to follow him and report on his whereabouts.
But Feng Xiao didn't take the chance to run, nor did he rush out to look for traces of the murderer. After he left the yurt, he took a stroll through the luxuriant grasslands. A group of merchants had recently arrived, bringing with them the most popular silks and ceramics from the Central Plains. Feng Xiao drifted over to join the excitement and stayed chatting with them for several hours.
There was no official trade agreement between the Khaganate and the Central Plains, but the Göktürks rarely turned away merchants. Once the Göktürk nobles had begun using silks and ceramics from the Central Plains, it had become impossible for them to give these luxuries up.
The merchants here now had come from all over. Some were Han, but others had the strong brows and noses of the Western Regions and beyond. It was rare for a Han to meet a familiar face out in these foreign lands, and they treated Feng Xiao with great hospitality, even inviting him to share a meal of roast lamb. Feng Xiao accepted without hesitation.
The roast lamb was seasoned with cumin, so tender it melted in Feng Xiao's mouth. Next came a bunch of grapes, bursting with sweetness. Though the food here couldn't compare to the variety available in the Central Plains, the quality of what they had was unmatched. Feng Xiao slowly made his way through the ribs, savoring them as if they were the world's most wonderful delicacies.
But after a few moments, he put them back down. Believing they weren't to his taste, the host ordered some beef brought over instead.
"It's not the meat," said Feng Xiao. "It's only that I can't help but feel it's lacking in flavor."
The cook was perplexed. "I used plenty of salt," he said. "If the gentleman prefers stronger flavors, why not sprinkle on a little more?"
Feng Xiao shook his head. Something was off.
By all rights, he should be completely free of worries. He could simply straighten his clothes and return to the Central Plains to laugh at the Zuoyue Bureau, leaderless and in chaos. The Jiejian Bureau would be without equal, and Feng Xiao would have one less clever person to contend with.
What was there to be dissatisfied about?
Feng Xiao looked down at the tasteless roast lamb. He sighed. "I've gotten used to having someone to bicker with."
He left the banquet and strolled along the grassy shores of the lake. A white egret alighted nearby. It was covered in luxurious, snow-white feathers, its neck a graceful curve—not unlike the curve of Cui Buqu's back when he was lying in bed, unwilling to get up. But of course, the part that resembled Cui Buqu most was its sharp beak, always ready to start pecking.
Feng Xiao imagined Cui Buqu with a beak and burst out laughing.
Jinlian had been looking for Feng Xiao all this time. Finally spotting him, she rushed over to try again to persuade him, only to be caught off-guard by his carefree laugh.
It's over, she thought. Cui Buqu is doomed. Feng Xiao was positively joyful; there was no chance he'd be willing to help. Jinlian sighed. All she could do at this point was find a way to see Cui Buqu and hope he had a plan to turn things around.
Feng Xiao turned to look at her curiously. "What are you doing here?"
Jinlian was in no mood to speak to him. "Nothing," she said coolly. "I'm leaving. Feng-langjun, don't let me interrupt you."
"Wait." Feng Xiao stopped her. "Is the Black Moon Shaman's corpse still being kept somewhere?"
Jinlian shook her head. "It was charred beyond recognition. They cremated him immediately. Shamans are usually cremated after their death anyway."
"But the stone hut is still there, no? He had two disciples. Fetch them here; I have something to ask them."
"I thought you had no desire to save Cui-xiansheng." Jinlian regarded him suspiciously.
Feng Xiao smiled. "There's only one Cui Buqu. If he dies, where would I find anyone half as interesting?"
***
Qiao Xian hadn't been idle. Her wounds were serious, so rescuing Cui Buqu on her own was out of the question. Barging in to see him was similarly impossible. It was only when the first prince passed by and saw her pacing outside the tent that he spoke to the guards and convinced them to admit her.
Cui Buqu didn't appear to have suffered any mistreatment. He sat cross-legged on the ground with his eyes closed, as if unaware of his own imminent death.
"Lord Chief!" Qiao Xian rushed over and dropped to one knee. "This subordinate has been too useless. I'll find some way to rescue you; I won't let you be humiliated!"
"Where is Feng Xiao?" asked Cui Buqu.
Qiao Xian was furious. "Don't pin your hopes on him! He never had any intention of rescuing you."
"Bring him a message from me," said Cui Buqu, voice hushed. "Tell him to run as far away as possible. Tell him he isn't to come back for me—no matter what. He mustn't take revenge on Apa Khagan either. The khagan has countless capable men. Even together, the two of you are no match for him."
Qiao Xian froze.
If not for Cui Buqu's calm and collected expression, she would have suspected he'd gone mad. If he wasn't mad, there had to be something wrong with her ears.
"What time is it?" asked Cui Buqu.
"A quarter to six," she replied. "The sun rose some time ago."
Cui Buqu nodded. "Then there's no time to waste. If you wish to rescue me, give him this message."
Think as she might, Qiao Xian couldn't puzzle out what significance lay in those words. She feared that if Feng Xiao heard them, he might be all the happier to turn on his heel and leave without a second thought. But in the end, this was an order from Cui Buqu. What could she do but obey? Qiao Xian rose to her feet and departed.
Cui Buqu watched her vanish through the curtains. When he was certain she was gone, he pulled the vial from his sleeve, picked up a nearby incense burner, and poured in the contents.
Göktürk aristocrats loved Han products and copied them aggressively. These incense burners, originally designed for wealthy households in the Central Plains, were everywhere throughout the camp. He watched faint wisps of smoke ribbon upward from the burner and dissipate without a trace, leaving only a clean, sweet scent. Cui Buqu stared for a long time, then suddenly shouted in Turkic: "I need to see Apa Khagan at once! Tell him that if he doesn't come, the consequences will be dire!"
Had he been any normal prisoner, the guard would have ignored him. But Cui Buqu was far from normal. The guard went immediately to report to Apa Khagan.
In a rare piece of luck, the khagan was neither meeting with his own people nor submerged in the throes of lust with his Kuchean beauty. When the guard entered the khagan's yurt, he found the khagan sitting cross-legged at its center, his palms upturned and fingers pinched in a mudra. No matter how the guard looked at it, it was unusual behavior.
But he didn't dare gawk or comment. He quickly relayed Cui Buqu's message.
Apa Khagan didn't fly into a rage. He listened calmly throughout the guard's speech, and a strange smile spread across that face weathered by lust and time. "Cui Buqu." He said the name for the first time. Each syllable was uttered with precision, soft and languid, as if the khagan were savoring its flavor on his tongue. He rose and walked toward Cui Buqu's tent.
Only then did the guard realize: Apa Khagan had been speaking in Chinese.