FENG XIAO HAD LEFT their rendezvous alone. He was merely going to the Prince of Qin's residence for a banquet, after all, not bursting in on a den of tigers and dragons.
When Cui Buqu set out, he sent someone back to report to the Zuoyue Bureau. By the time he and Guan Shanhai reached the city's southern gates, Zhangsun Bodhi was waiting for them, Qin Miaoyu at his side.
"Lord Chief," she said, stepping up to greet Cui Buqu. "The deputy chief told me to go with you."
Cui Buqu nodded, wasting no words. He never shrank from risking his life to obtain the advantages he needed, but there was no reason to act recklessly. With Zhangsun and Qin Miaoyu present, even if they encountered Xiao Lü, they could most likely escape with their lives intact, if not fully unscathed.
Xiao Lü had been gravely wounded during their last battle—Feng Xiao had said so himself. If Xiao Lü hadn't pushed himself through qi deviation to improve his martial arts since they'd last seen him, his injuries wouldn't be fully healed. A sick tiger was a tiger still, but weaker by a fair amount.
The common folk milled about the streets, resolved to celebrate all night. Normally, most would have already blown out their lamps and retired to bed, but now, lanterns in hand, they bustled along with festive energy. From a distance, they resembled a long, sinuous dragon flickering with firelight. Cui Buqu and his party exited the city gates but didn't follow the crowd to the lanterns. Instead, they turned toward Liuying Pavilion.
Lanterns dotted the pavilion's exterior, revealing the half-seen silhouettes of guards. Inside sat a solitary figure, fanning themselves as they brewed tea over a small stove. Sparks sputtered from the flame. The faint aroma of tea wafted over, mingling with the fragrance of savory snacks roasting beside the pot.
Zhangsun Bodhi stopped Cui Buqu before he could step forward. "That's not Duchess Yuwen."
Indeed it was not. The shadowed physique clearly belonged to a man, and one as exceedingly meticulous with his appearance as Feng Xiao at that.
Cui Buqu was unperturbed. "Let's go. Come with me to meet the leader of the Thirteen Floors of Yunhai, Pavilion Leader Xiao."
Qin Miaoyu and Guan Shanhai were both stricken. Once again, their fears had become reality. They weren't so frightened they'd turn tail and run, but the Thirteen Floors of Yunhai had stirred up trouble again and again—from Liugong City all the way to Guangqian County. Qin Miaoyu and Guan Shanhai had both almost perished at their hands more than once. For the members of both the Jiejian and Zuoyue Bureaus, Xiao Lü was an object of terror.
They weren't being stealthy, and they hadn't lowered their voices. Naturally, the occupant of the pavilion noticed them at once.
"It's cold and windy out there," a voice called out. "Why not step inside for a chat with an old friend, Cui-xiansheng?"
Neither Qin Miaoyu nor Guan Shanhai had faced Xiao Lü themselves, but they'd witnessed the battle between him and Feng Xiao that night at the tavern. The two had been evenly matched; Feng Xiao had barely managed to tip the odds to achieve his victory. Even then, it was only thanks to Feng Xiao's immense good fortune that he'd survived the qi deviation that followed. If he hadn't, who knew what the Jiejian Bureau would look like now?
Then there was their mission in the Khaganate, in which Yuxiu had disguised himself as Apa Khagan—a trip that had nearly turned into a catastrophe. And Boling Commandery, where Yuan Sansi had approached Cui Buqu under the guise of an old acquaintance, then lured him into a trap at Mount Tiannan that almost cost Feng Xiao and Cui Buqu their lives. Most recently, in Guangqian County, Xiao Lü had exploited the floods and fanned the flames, secretly orchestrating everything from the shadows.
Each time they thought the Thirteen Floors had exhausted their elite forces and been rendered impotent, Xiao Lü managed to send them another pleasant surprise. Guan Shanhai couldn't shake the thought that, had they not come up against Cui Buqu, the Thirteen Floors of Yunhai would have succeeded in their schemes by now.
Qin Miaoyu had even more reason to fear them. She'd once been a disciple of the Buyeo Sect, subordinate to the Thirteen Floors of Yunhai. Xiao Lü had effectively been her highest superior. She'd been an insignificant, nameless lackey, so Xiao Lü probably wouldn't remember her. Still, her nerves strained taut and her heart pounded as she followed Cui Buqu into the pavilion.
Fortunately, Xiao Lü paid her no mind. He spared scarcely a glance for Cui Buqu's companions before focusing his entire attention on Cui Buqu, as if only he was worthy of Xiao Lü's regard.
"To reunite with an old friend on a chilly night, brewing tea and discussing the Dao—is this not a most pleasant way to pass the time?" Xiao Lü's clear and melodious voice drifted toward them, as soothing as branches bursting into fresh green life after a bleak winter.
No one dared let their guard down save for Cui Buqu, who responded pleasantly, "Pavilion Leader Xiao, you used County Duchess Yuwen's likeness to draw me here. Are you not worried? I only need to give a single order, and His Majesty will send the imperial army. Your martial arts may be unmatched, but escaping with your life would be quite the challenge."
Nevertheless, he sat in the seat Xiao Lü indicated, settling down across from him. Cui Buqu reached for a freshly poured cup of tea, filled almost to the brim, and raised it to his nose. "Good tea."
Xiao Lü's eyes sparkled with delight. "It is indeed good tea; I brought it specially from the south. I knew you'd like it."
He'd made many attempts on Cui Buqu's life from afar, but now that he was before him, he was all smiles, without any hint of hostility. An observer might have thought the two close friends who'd known each other for years.
Qin Miaoyu watched anxiously, worried Cui Buqu would be entranced by Xiao Lü's amiable tone and drink the tea. But it seemed she'd vastly underestimated him: Cui Buqu flipped the cup and dumped the tea onto the ground beside him.
"I toast not with wine, but with tea. I honor those who have fallen victim to Pavilion Leader Xiao's schemes over the years. May they never find peace in the underworld; may the day come when they return to seek their vengeance."
Qin Miaoyu barely stifled a laugh. She snuck a glance at Zhangsun Bodhi. The man seemed to be in a trance—he stood motionless as a wooden statue, apparently oblivious to the conversation taking place before them.
Cui Buqu coughed lightly. "As I'm sure the pavilion leader knows, my health has never been good. I can only endure the cold winds for so long. Allow me to get straight to the point."
Xiao Lü smiled. "My apologies. It's remarkable you're still breathing after such continuous torment; I nearly forgot you're suffering from a chronic illness."
"Are you aware of the massacre of the Lin family from Yandang Mountain Estate? Fifty or so deaths."
"I am aware."
"Did you receive the message I asked Ning Shewo to relay to you?"
"I did."
Cui Buqu's brow furrowed faintly. "Yet judging from your attitude, Pavilion Leader Xiao, you have no desire to cooperate."
Xiao Lü sipped his tea, only speaking again when the cup was empty. "Lin Yong was indeed a member of my Thirteen Floors of Yunhai, but he must have revealed quite a bit of information since falling into your hands. Regardless of who perpetrated the massacre at Yandang Mountain Estate, I don't see why it should have been under my protection. Do you disagree?"
"Pavilion Leader Xiao, if you aspire to build a legacy that will endure for generations, it would be prudent to avoid making such shortsighted remarks."
Xiao Lü smiled. "Then tell me, what should I say instead?"
A sense of unease washed over Cui Buqu. From the beginning, Xiao Lü's responses had been strange. Although Cui Buqu and the Thirteen Floors of Yunhai were at odds, the Göktürks were a common enemy. They should have been able to collaborate just this once. But judging by Xiao Lü's expression—
It hit him at once. "Are you collaborating with the Göktürks?!"
***
Feng Xiao strolled toward the Prince of Qin's residence in the north of the city, a smile tugging at his lips as he considered whether or not Cui Buqu would throw away the fan.
He concluded it was unlikely. Feng Xiao knew that Cui bastard's personality all too well. He acted detached and unconcerned, but in reality, he was ensnared by Feng Xiao's charms and unable to break free.
He tossed the jar of divine ointment into the air, letting it land gently back in his palm, then hummed softly in amusement.
What a faker!
As Feng Xiao waded through the streams of festivalgoers, a man appeared ahead. He didn't move with the crowd, but quietly observed Feng Xiao from within its midst. Though he blocked the way, none of the surrounding civilians reprimanded him. They were oblivious to his presence, as if they couldn't see him at all.
Only a martial artist of exceptional skill could hide their aura in such a bustling marketplace. Feng Xiao stopped and narrowed his eyes. Without warning, he sprang up onto the nearest rooftop, then made his way north in a series of leaps, eventually touching down in an empty alley.
He turned to glance back. The man had followed him, silent as a whisper.
"Who are you?" Feng Xiao asked.
"Tu'an Qinghe."
"Never heard of you."
"This is my first time in the Central Plains."
As Feng Xiao observed Tu'an Qinghe, his opponent was evaluating him in turn. Someone like Feng Xiao was destined to dazzle wherever he went, but his martial arts rarely made a splash in the jianghu. His milieu was the court, and his victories there were the source of most of his acclaim. Tu'an Qinghe had originally set his sights on the martial experts ranked highest in the jianghu's listings—but upon seeing Feng Xiao, he'd changed his mind.
The martial prowess of the leader of the Jiejian Bureau was on par with that of any master of the jianghu. In fact, Tu'an Qinghe suspected Feng Xiao's true capabilities might be even greater than he imagined. Superficially, Feng Xiao resembled a phoenix taking flight—blindingly brilliant. His captivating, flamboyant exterior would make it easy to underestimate his martial arts. Yet beneath the flash of his magnificent plumage lay an unfathomable well of power.
The clamor and bustle of the surrounding streets drifted into the alley. Tonight, the capital was bright with lanterns. But in this narrow space, swords were drawn and arrows nocked.
The freezing wind seemed to solidify, becoming ice that surrounded them both. It stretched out wispy fingers from the pale walls on either side, until the air seemed to crackle with frost.
Feng Xiao gave a cold hmph.
Like a fissure cleaving through a glacier, the sound broke through the chill and rushed like the wind toward Tu'an Qinghe, who was forced a half step back. It was only half a step of ceded ground, yet it seemed to span the heavens as Feng Xiao swept forward with unstoppable momentum.
"I do not fight with nameless individuals!" he sneered, striking out with his palm.
Tu'an Qinghe fell back effortlessly, body drifting like a leaf. Feng Xiao pressed forward, and Tu'an Qinghe continued to withdraw. But there was no surrender or compromise in this retreat—it was a calculated maneuver.
When he could retreat no further, a cold glint flashed in his sleeve. A strange, single-edged saber appeared in his hand, as slender as a sword. Tu'an Qinghe spun and rushed forward with the blade in hand.
One glance was enough for Feng Xiao to guess the origin of his skills. "So you're that disciple of Hulugu's!" The former Göktürk grandmaster's martial arts were distinct and highly recognizable. Feng Xiao had crossed paths with Fo'er too many times not to recognize them. But if Fo'er's skills had the quality of an offshoot branch, Tu'an Qinghe's were clear and profound, as free from impurities as the snow atop the highest peak of the Tian Shan range.
Tu'an Qinghe claimed he'd never set foot in the Central Plains or traveled through the jianghu, and Feng Xiao believed him. Everything about him, from his gaze to his martial techniques, was pure and unblemished. It was as if he existed in a world where only he and his opponent remained. Even if the sky were to collapse and the earth split apart, even if storms raged and seas roared, Tu'an Qinghe would remain cool and unfazed.
The saber in his hand was as steady as a mountain, while he himself dissolved into a fleeting rainbow. Wherever that arcing rainbow touched, frost gathered, swiftly crystallizing into an icy fortress that enveloped Feng Xiao and stifled even his breaths.
Feng Xiao had no sword. The wide sleeves of his robe soared outward, and two strings flew from his sleeves. Where they touched, the ice shattered, and the fortress of frost collapsed. In a blink, those strings like blades of wind and light were inches from Tu'an Qinghe's brow.
Of the two ancient zithers, Raoliang and Yuyin, Raoliang had been destroyed. Only its sister, Yuyin, remained. Yet Feng Xiao had plucked its strings to use as weapons. It went against all reason. He'd dismantled a priceless treasure; anyone who cherished zithers would have spat blood in rage. But Tu'an Qinghe merely looked grave. He saw them not as two strings but as a technique capable of countering his saber arts.
He'd spent five years of study on the move he'd just used and deemed it flawless. Though Feng Xiao's strings hadn't destroyed his killing technique entirely, he'd freed himself from the trap. If Tu'an Qinghe wished to come out of this fight intact, he'd have to change tactics.
As the strings clashed with the saber, energy exploded around them. The dark stone of the road cracked beneath them, while fissures split the walls on either side. If they hadn't been holding back, the walls and even the buildings themselves would have collapsed in on them.
The two had no desire to perish together. In the wake of the impact, both drew back a safe distance.
"Now will Deputy Chief Feng acknowledge me as a worthy opponent?" asked Tu'an Qinghe.
"Just barely," said Feng Xiao. It was hopeless to expect any honest words from this man.
Tu'an Qinghe's expression grew serious. "This isn't a suitable place for a battle. If we meet again, I hope to have a fair fight."
"Return and tell your seventh prince to keep himself in check," Feng Xiao replied. "Even if he has the support of the entire Göktürk army, I won't hesitate to kill him."
He reached instinctively for his fan, only to recall that he'd given it to Cui Buqu. Feng Xiao made a moue of disappointment. "My venerable self shall take my leave. No need to see me off." He was already yards away when he added, "Oh, and you'll pay for all the tiles and walls you destroyed. I'll send someone to the seventh prince's residence to collect payment later."
"Deputy Chief Feng!" Tu'an Qinghe took a step forward, but the rest of his words died on his tongue. He was left watching Feng Xiao drift into the distance. After standing a moment in silence, he turned and sped back to the seventh prince's residence.
Upon the prince's arrival in the capital as a hostage, the emperor of Sui had provided him with a manor and conferred on him the title of a Han prince as a demonstration of his sincerity. But regardless of his title, the prince was a Göktürk; he didn't fit in with the nobility of the capital. He hadn't gone to the banquet, nor had he headed out to see the lanterns or fireworks. Instead, he stayed in his residence to read.
Kuhezhen had a deep interest in the culture of the Central Plains. He preferred to remain alone most days, sending his attendants out to collect famous literature and anecdotes from the marketplace. The emperor was pleased to see him assimilating into their culture and occasionally rewarded him with books as gifts.
He raised his head from his book as Tu'an Qinghe stepped into the room. A small smile played on his lips. "Finished?"
Tu'an Qinghe didn't return his smile—his expression was chilly. He remained motionless, as if in silent protest.
Kuhezhen was unfazed. "There are countless masters in the Central Plains; what is one Feng Xiao? You have far more formidable opponents ahead of you," he said gently.
"I've repaid the favor I owed you. I won't assist you in this matter again," said Tu'an Qinghe.
Kuhezhen was not at all offended. He nodded earnestly. "Of course. This was more than enough, and I won't trouble you again. The Lantern Festival is a grand celebration for the people of the Central Plains. If you don't wish to enjoy the festivities, why not join me for a meal? I've asked the kitchen to prepare a lamb hot pot."
Tu'an Qinghe acted as if he hadn't heard him. He turned and left without a word.
This did not trouble Kuhezhen; he was in an excellent mood. Still smiling, he looked down at the book in his hand. It was the ninth volume of The Garden of Eloquence, by Liu Xiang of the Western Han dynasty.
In the garden stood a tree. A cicada perched high on a branch, lamenting softly as it sipped dew, oblivious to the mantis lurking silently behind it. The mantis stalked the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind it.
Kuhezhen's smile deepened.
***
The confrontation between Feng Xiao and Tu'an Qinghe lasted no more than a quarter of an hour. After parting ways, Feng Xiao continued toward the Prince of Qin's residence to join the banquet.
The entrance bustled with carriages, while a din of voices spilled from the open doors. Feng Xiao was one of the last to arrive, and the residence was already full of guests. He'd come alone, without servants or attendants, but anyone who'd glimpsed his iconic and dazzling appearance even once was unable to forget it. Very quickly he was recognized, and a steward approached with a smile.
In a nod to the rules of propriety, the Prince of Qin's residence was of a modest size. In order to expand it, Yang Jun had purchased several neighboring properties and renovated a garden suitable for hosting banquets. The imperial censors had reprimanded him for it, but his actions, while unbecoming, weren't truly out of line. The emperor and empress had chosen to overlook it.
Perhaps his attendants had taken inspiration from Princess Leping's thousand-lantern banquet, because the Prince of Qin's residence was also decorated with lanterns of all sizes. Tonight, however, they were wrapped in semi-transparent gauze. The iridescent fabric shimmered in a rainbow of hues, lending the light a mercurial, otherworldly quality.
"This way, please, Deputy Chief Feng. The third prince has been eagerly awaiting your arrival; he's asked after you several times!" As the steward leading the way turned to speak, he saw Feng Xiao abruptly halt in his tracks.
He was staring at the back of his right hand.
Nearby, a green-gauze-wrapped lantern flickered. In the dim light, his hand looked smooth and perfectly normal. Perhaps it was just an illusion.
"Deputy Chief Feng?" the steward asked, confused.
"Go ahead." Feng Xiao let his hand fall and strode after the steward.
They reached Fuxue Pavilion, a name that meant snow-covered. But there was no snow here tonight, only another abundance of lanterns. Within, a lovely woman was dancing. Her costume was a crimson as vibrant as blood, her hair elegantly styled with golden pins and her sleeves billowing around her like wraiths.
She leapt from the pavilion to the center of the pool, her toes grazing the surface as her skirt swirled and whipped above the water. White mist drifted over the pool, curling around her body and refusing to release its hold, as if she was walking among the clouds above the sea.
Upon close examination, Feng Xiao spied the stones just beneath the water's surface. The beauty's bare feet pranced over them, her lithe and effortless movements creating the illusion that she walked upon the water. The guests stood beneath the colonnade and beside the rockery, transfixed.
Yang Jun sidled over, beaming with pride. "How is it? I told you there'd be surprises tonight. If the girl's caught your eye, I'm willing to give her up!"
"No need," said Feng Xiao. He turned smoothly to greet Princess Lanling, who had arrived at Yang Jun's side. "Good evening, Your Highness."
The princess smiled back. "Deputy Chief Feng is as radiant as ever. Something good must have happened. What is it? You mustn't keep it to yourself!"
Yang Jun threw Feng Xiao a knowing wink. "The crown prince and Erge are here too. I'll go greet them; the two of you keep chatting."
He sauntered off, leaving Princess Lanling and Feng Xiao together.
"Your Highness has sharp eyes," said Feng Xiao languidly. "I was just thinking of my beloved."
The princess's smile faltered. Suddenly she couldn't seem to breathe properly. She twisted her trembling hands and forced her lips back into a smile. "Deputy Chief Feng is a man of great talent. The one you admire must be extraordinarily beautiful."
"The princess is a beauty capable of causing fish to stop swimming and geese to fall from the sky. In this regard, Your Highness is a thousand times better than my beloved. And Your Highness has a kind and empathetic heart, making you even more superior."
"Then—" Princess Lanling bit her tongue, swallowing back the words Why do you like her and not me?
She hadn't forgotten she was a daughter of the emperor. Even if she was disappointed in love, she couldn't bring shame upon the imperial family.
But Feng Xiao seemed to sense her question. He continued smoothly, "But for some reason, I still find them charming. Even when they throw tantrums, even when they're concocting schemes, I find them remarkably endearing. And without me around, their time may be limited—to ensure their survival and keep them on their toes, I must keep a close watch."
The princess fell silent. After a moment, she said softly, "I understand. Finding true affection in this world is difficult, and love is rarer still. Congratulations, Deputy Chief Feng."
Feng Xiao took no special care with the princess's feelings. He laughed. "Your Highness, you're a blessed daughter of the heavens. How many exceptional men yearn for your attention? I fear I don't possess such good fortune."
Princess Lanling smiled bitterly. She was indeed a blessed daughter of the heavens, but it was that very fact that made genuine feeling all the more elusive. How many truly desired her for herself, rather than for her status? She still found it difficult to accept.
"May I know the name of Deputy Chief Feng's beloved?" she asked, but was met with only silence. She turned. Feng Xiao was gazing at something in the distance. Princess Lanling followed his line of sight but saw nothing unusual. "Deputy Chief Feng?"
"I've just spotted an old acquaintance; I should go greet them. Please excuse me, Your Highness."
He strode forward as he spoke, and soon disappeared around the corner of the colonnade.
Feng Xiao had spotted Xiao Lü.
Though he'd only caught a glimpse, he couldn't be mistaken. The two of them had given their all in the battle that night, dancing along the boundary between life and death. But why would Xiao Lü have snuck into the Prince of Qin's banquet? He must have ill intent. Half the nobles in the capital were present tonight. Even the crown prince and the Prince of Jin were in attendance. If anything happened, the consequences would be dire.
Feng Xiao quickened his pace.
The distance between them shrank rapidly. Xiao Lü seemed to realize he was being watched. He sped up his own movements until he was using qinggong capable of crossing vast distances in only a few steps.
Just as Feng Xiao came within reach, Xiao Lü turned and struck out at Feng Xiao with his sword. Feng Xiao sidestepped and grabbed for Xiao Lü's wrist. But Xiao Lü was an exceptional martial artist. He might be injured, but he wouldn't be captured so easily. He slashed again, this time toward Feng Xiao's abdomen.
Feng Xiao bent his knee to block the blow and struck the acupoint on Xiao Lü's arm. The sword dropped from Xiao Lü's limp fingers, and Feng Xiao snatched it from the air and turned it on its owner.
In the moment Feng Xiao lunged forward, a strange smile appeared on Xiao Lü's face.
No!
Something was wrong… Everything was wrong. The pale lanterns illuminated the colonnade, casting a soft yellow glow. But their reflections in the water shone a ghastly green.
Feng Xiao wrenched to a stop, the sword inches away from piercing skin—yet Xiao Lü grabbed the blade and stabbed it into his own body.
A surge of iron filled Feng Xiao's mouth as he bit down on his own tongue. The fuzzy sounds of singing and dancing ebbed away like a retreating tide, replaced by ear-piercing cries and screams. The smell of blood permeated the air, stronger than the taste in his mouth.
Feng Xiao looked around.
Xiao Lü—
There was no Xiao Lü at all.
The ground was strewn with victims bleeding onto the lantern-lit paths. Cries for help echoed all around. Among the injured were the Prince of Jin and the Prince of Qin, lying unconscious, on the edge of death. The crown prince, soaked in blood, had collapsed on the ground. When he saw Feng Xiao's eyes fixed on him, he shrank back desperately and gave a hoarse shout. "Help! Guards! Guards! Feng Xiao's gone mad!"