228-235

Chapter 228: Killing in the Alley

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

"He who is without mercy may not necessarily be a true hero, but a real man is one who loves his children?" Haitang repeated it slowly to herself, that ordinary-looking smile of hers returning to her face. She led Fan Xian through the wooden temple doors.

"Master Fan." Si Lili curtseyed. A gentle, distant smile appeared on Fan Xian's face. He cupped his hands and returned her greeting. "Lady Si, when did you arrive in Shangjing?"

"Thank you for your concern. I arrived three days ago. The journey was peaceful." Si Lili's eyes dropped. She was still wearing the thin light-green garment she wore on her journey. It was warm, so she had no fear of catching a cold.

Fan Xian exchanged some quiet words with her.

Haitang watched calmly to one side. There was a slight smile behind her eyes; the strangeness between the two of them did not escape her gaze. Fan Xian felt somewhat odd. Why had Haitang brought him to this temple to meet Si Lili? And where were those old palace maids who waited on her constantly? Did Haitang not know he was a foreign envoy, who should have kept miles away from the woman who was the object of the Emperor's desires?

"This is where I live," explained Haitang, seeing Fan Xian's puzzlement. "Lili cannot enter the palace easily, so His Majesty has asked me to look after her."

Fan Xian laughed bitterly, then thought of something that Si Lili had once said. The two women had first met and become friends in the royal palace of Northern Qi. He suddenly thought of something - could it be that Ku He also lived in the royal palace? Although the temple was rather remote, Fan Xian still felt some apprehension. "I shall wait for you outside," he said after exchanging a few words with them. Without awaiting their reply, he left, waiting in the courtyard outside.

After he had left, Haitang looked at Si Lili. There was a moment of silence before she finally spoke. "I brought him to see you," said Haitang. "Don't you have anything to say to him?"

Si Lili lifted her head, and a hint of frustration showed in her beautiful face. "I told you I did not want to see him," she said softly, "and I presume that he does not wish to see me either. Now he is outside, and I still don't know how to reproach you. Haitang, you are a troublemaker, even if you are Ku He's disciple. You shouldn't meddle in such affairs. They are off-limits."

Haitang smiled calmly. "What is there to fear? His Majesty is not a narrow-minded man."

Wisps of sweet fragrance gradually filled the air in another elegant, neat room of the temple. On the table, the color of the green tea mixed with the amber color of the utensils, creating a calming sight.

"Why did you bring me to see Si Lili?" Fan Xian sat cross-legged at the small table, his brow wrinkled; worries had finally appeared on his elegant face. He had done his utmost to arrange matters regarding Xiao En; Si Lili was a hot potato thrown into his hands.

"I was talking about Yan Bingyun before," said Haitang with a smile. "I wanted to see whether you were polluted by the secular world, Master Fan."

"'Polluted by the secular world' is an odd thing to say."

"Master Fan, don't tell me you haven't read the Story of the Stone?" Haitang seemed astonished.

Fan Xian's heart skipped a beat. He didn't respond, and simply laughed bitterly. "Miss Haitang, have you misunderstood something? Si Lili was simply the criminal who I escorted on her journey. It was simply part of the agreement. There's nothing between us."

"You have misunderstood me as well," said Haitang calmly. "The reason I invited you to my home today is because there is something I need your help with."

"What is it?" asked Fan Xian, getting straight to the point.

Haitang smiled. "In truth, it was something that vexed His Majesty when you last stayed in the palace."

Fan Xian looked at her. Her ordinary-looking face had a way of making people feel closer to her. "Clearly, His Majesty did not want you to know of his frustration."

Haitang adjusted her right sleeve with her left hand, grasping a teacup with her fingers and bringing it to her lips. She sipped gently from it. "His Majesty did not want you to know at first. But I have been his close friend for a long time, and save for me, there is no one in the Qi royal court willing to help him deal with this matter."

"I don't understand." Fan Xian, of course, had guessed what the young Emperor was distressed about. He smiled. "Since there is such opposition toward Si Lili entering the palace from all levels of society, why does the Emperor still wish to have his own way? Looking at the current situation, since Si Lili can only stay with you for the time being, I presume that the Empress Dowager will not allow her to enter the palace.

"Master Fan, do you think that there is something behind this?"

"Correct. I have never believed that monarchs can have such feelings." For some reason, Fan Xian was also faintly unhappy, and it showed in the vitriol of his words.

Haitang was stunned. She looked at him with her calm eyes, and after a long while, she spoke. "Rulers are people too. How can one speak with certainty in matters between men and women?"

Fan Xian shook his head, and thought of the rulers of his previous world. Perhaps Emperor Xuanzong of Tang was a different sort, but ultimately, had Yang Guifei not still died at Mawei? [1]

"Master Fan, you are married," said Haitang inadvertently.

Fan Xian stared blankly for a moment, then thought of his wife at home, and of their first meeting before that temple altar. He couldn't stop his lips from curling into a happy smile.

Haitang watched his face and sighed to herself. "I hear that you love your wife dearly, Master Fan. If someone were to stop you two from being together, then what would you do?"

Fan Xian raised his eyebrows and did not reply. But if anyone truly did dare to get between him and Wan'er, then they would bring about their own destruction. Gradually, he seemed to understand the mood of the young Emperor in his palace. But when he remembered that the object of his affection was Si Lili, Fan Xian felt somewhat odd - even though his agreement with Si Lili was only an agreement that they would both make use of each other.

Haitang's request was, in truth, what Fan Xian wanted. If Si Lili could not enter the palace, then the losers would be the Overwatch Council of the Kingdom of Qing. He just couldn't guess what the Emperor wanted from Fan Xian.

"At all levels of society, no one wants to help His Majesty get Si Lili into the palace. You should know that there were some issues with Lili's identity in the south. And I am limited in my position; in this matter I have no right to speak."

Fan Xian laughed coldly. "Of course, she would give her life for Northern Qi. But do you mean to say that I have the right to speak on this? I am simply a foreign envoy. After Wuduhe, this business should have nothing to do with me."

Haitang smiled. "His Majesty and I wish to make use of your wisdom."

Fan Xian laughed involuntarily, smoothing the errant hairs on his head with a finger. "You really do think highly of me, Haitang."

"Master Fan, you were born in complete obscurity, but in a short time, you became the immortal of poetry, watched by the entire world. Of all the people in the south who have real authority, if you say you have no wisdom, no one would believe that."

"I will think of a way, but I do not know if it will be successful." Fan Xian took a sip of the leftover tea on the table. "The Empress Dowager is the key. If she is not willing, then there's nothing that will work."

Haitang stood up from her seat in a polite gesture. "Thank you in advance."

"It seems that you and Si Lili are good friends." Fan Xian returned her bow. "If I should need your help in the future, I hope that you remember the feelings between us today."

"As long as it does not involve the politics of this country, then there is nothing I will not do," replied Haitang, her face expressionless.

"Do not worry. What I will ask you to do may never happen. If it does happen, then it will only be a domestic issue for us in Qing, and it will not require you to betray the way of nature that you have sought after all your life."

"That is for the best," said Haitang, relieved.

Fan Xian was the head diplomat from the south, and his every move in Shangjing was observed by Northern Qi. This was something that all diplomats tacitly agreed to and were accustomed to, so it was hard to find an opportunity to act completely freely. But today was an exception, because Fan Xian was walking with Haitang, and Haitang clearly did not like having those Brocade Guard rats following her. So as they walked under their umbrella in the rain, they seemed to walk along leisurely. Having thrown them off their tail, they believed that the Brocade Guard would not have the gall to openly show any opposition to Haitang. And yet they still dared to follow them.

Coming out of the temple where the two young ladies stayed, Fan Xian stretched his body out, and discovered that there were two Brocade Guards on the street corner that he had not seen before. A smile floated across his face, and he walked toward the street corner into an alleyway.

The weather had not cleared up after the rain, and a cool breeze occasionally brushed past the raindrops that hung from the tree branches, splashing them against his face.

Thinking of Si Lili and the Emperor, Fan Xian still did not fully understand, but the topic that Haitang had just brought up had filled this youth, who had not yet turned seventeen, with thoughts of returning to the Qing capital, of returning to his wife and his sister's side. A feeling of homesickness began to well up in him, and warmth began to flood his heart.

People were passing through the alley, a few coolies dragging handcarts behind them, hurrying toward the shops where they worked. The smile on Fan Xian's face was as gentle as sunshine as he strolled through the alley.

As the handcart brushed past him, Fan Xian flicked his wrist, thrusting with the black dagger he had concealed in the palm of his hand!

With a spluttering sound, the dagger stuck into the throat of the coolie - a spy in disguise - the cold edge of the blade meeting flesh. He collapsed to the floor, dead.

The next moment, Fan Xian stepped onto the overturned handcart, his body flying through the alley like a shadow, poison needles clasped in his fingers, sticking them into a pressure point in one man's chest. His left hand moved strangely under his right armpit, and he fired off three crossbow bolts, killing another stunned man instantly.

Turning his hand over, he chopped at the cervical vertebra of the paralyzed man, breaking it to pieces. Fan Xian shed his outer layer of clothing, turned around, and used his rain hat to cover up his face, covering up his sunshine-like smile. He pulled the crossbow bolts from the man's body and walked out of the alley.

[1] Yang Guifei was the concubine of Emperor Xuanzong, renowned for her beauty. After a mutiny at Mawei Courier Station (in modern-day Shaanxi), Xuanzong acquiesced to the soldiers' demand that Yang be put to death.

Chapter 229: Shangjing's Secret Agents

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

After coming out of the temple, Fan Xian had been followed by three people. He didn't know whether they were spies from the Brocade Guard or men from the palace, but whoever they were, he was not going to let them follow him today.

Having picked off those three adversaries, Fan Xian made sure once more that there was nobody following him, and then finally set off again. After exiting the alley, he did not get into a carriage, because any contact he made with people would leave traces that could be followed by Northern Qi. On the damp street, the passersby slowly grew in number. Under cover of the crowd, Fan Xian lowered his head, and quietly walked alongside the masses of this foreign country.

According to Overwatch Council procedures for losing a tail, he was supposed to look for a fabric store or similar establishment, and then exit through the rear door, making a number of twists and turns before finally arriving at his destination. But Fan Xian did not employ this method. Firstly, he did not believe that anyone was following him; secondly, he believed that the more twists and turns he made, the more people he would come into contact with, which would make him more easily discovered. He crept carefully and secretly into an official's residence, unsure what he was going to do there.

Luckily, at that moment, the skies above Shangjing began to open once more. The fine rain was silent but visible, and it effectively covered up his tracks.

Near the Royal Academy in the southern district of Shangjing, there was a neighborhood where commoners lived known as Zhangjiadian. It was a mixture of good people and riff-raff, filled with the hustle and bustle of everyday life, but in the past few years, order had been reasonably well-kept. On top of that, living quarters were cheap, so it had slowly become more crowded. Petty merchants without much of their own money had also begun hawking their wares there, making some extra cash. They set up shop fronts on the street and sat there doing business.

This area was unlike Xiushui Street; here, they sold everyday goods at cheap prices, and naturally not of the best quality. The third shop that one passed on the east side of the neighborhood was one such establishment. The shop sold palm oil that had come from overseas, imported through the City of Dongyi. Although it was cheap, it tasted fairly good. But its color was unappealing, particularly in the winter months, when a layer of white scum would form over it. As a result, households with a little bit more money would opt for rapeseed oil from the east of the Kingdom of Qi.

Luckily, the majority of people always lacked disposable income, so this oil merchant, who didn't even have a sign outside the storefront, still managed to keep going. But he didn't employ staff; other than the shopkeeper, there was only one part-time shop assistant.

It had been raining on and off all day, and there were not many people walking out and about in Zhangjiadian. Today it was less busy, but the oil merchant's business had little to do with weather conditions. Any household who had no oil to cook with would stop by, so the oil merchant was not worried. Instead, he set out a stool and sat in the doorway to his shop, watching the rain fall outside.

Perhaps he really was getting old. The young shop assistant had seen him staring blankly into space a number of times this year, much more than he had before.

"Shopkeeper, I'd like to buy some oil." Someone stood at the entrance to the shop, blocking out the drab daylight from outside. The shopkeeper waved a hand and ushered him in.

The person took off a rain hat to reveal an ordinary-looking face. He laughed and entered the store. "Young man," he said to the yawning shop assistant, "I'd like to buy some oil."

"What kind of oil would you like?" asked the shop assistant, all smiles. "We've palm oil, and we've also just had some rapeseed oil come in from the east of Qi." The shop assistant was respectful, but secretly felt apprehensive. If they came into the shop, of course they wanted to buy oil. Why waste words?

"Give me half a catty of palm oil."

"Very well," said the shop assistant in a loud, clear voice. He nimbly poured and weighed the oil, then saw that the person's hands were empty. He couldn't help but scratch his head. "Sir, how are you going to carry it?"

"Do you have pots here?"

"We do. Three coins for one wooden pot." The shop assistant was happy to be doing business.

The customer said nothing as they took their oil-filled pot. He seemed to be thinking about something.

"Is there anything else?" asked the shopkeeper curiously.

"Do you have sesame oil?"

"Do we have sesame oil?" he asked out loud, not particularly loudly. Sitting in the doorway, the old shopkeeper's withered right hand trembled.

"We don't have anything that high-quality, I'm afraid," said the shop assistant dispiritedly. "This is Zhangjiadian, nobody can afford sesame oil around here." As he spoke, the shopkeeper slowly made his way back to the counter and waved a hand to dismiss the shop assistant. He looked at the customer and smiled.

"Sesame oil is too expensive. Except on festive occasions, people don't normally buy it. There's still half a year until the next festival, so we haven't ordered any."

"It's not just for festival days. It's also for holding remembrance ceremonies for people," said the customer, smiling.

The old shopkeeper became more respectful. "If you tell us how much, then we can place an order on your behalf, sir."

The conversation had reached its crux, so the two men lowered their voices. But the customer's memory was very good, so he rattled off the weight he needed clearly and unambiguously. "I want seven catties, three taels, nine maces and four hao... of palm oil." [1]

The old shopkeeper shuffled the beads on his abacus. "There's an issue with the price," he said reluctantly. "Sir, would you mind stepping into the back room to discuss the matter further?"

"Sure."

The old shopkeeper told the shop assistant to keep an eye on things, then led the customer into the back room. The shop assistant realized at that moment that the man was not discussing buying oil, but selling oil. He couldn't help but stand slack-jawed, thinking how lucky it was that he had managed not to offend this sesame-oil seller.

This sesame oil merchant was, of course, Fan Xian in disguise. He followed the shopkeeper into the back room, and found that that it was completely unlike the meeting place he had imagined - it was bright and airy.

They did not exchange pleasantries over cups of tea. The shopkeeper looked at Fan Xian, caution showing in his old, muddy eyes. "Did you come from the south, sir?"

Fan Xian nodded.

The old shopkeeper made a welcoming gesture. Fan Xian breathed a secret sigh of relief. Yan Bingyun's procedure had been rather complicated, and begrudgingly, he had no choice but to reel off another string of numbers.

At that moment, the shopkeeper finally confirmed his identity, and he felt his whole body relax. He fished around in his sleeves, his hands trembling, and took out a knife coated in poison. Fan Xian understood that if a visitor was a Qi spy, the shopkeeper would have to break things off with him immediately.

This was also why Yan Bingyun had felt so humiliated after his capture.

The shopkeeper looked at him. "Sir, are you part of the Overwatch Council?"

Fan Xian shook his head. "I think that given the current circumstances, it's best we keep words to a minimum."

The shopkeeper laughed bitterly. "It has already been a year, a whole year, and we've heard no news from above. After the incident with the spymaster, the royal court has not sent a single person to take over his position. I presumed that the royal court was preparing to have us go silent."

By "going silent", he meant for a spy in enemy territory to immediately cease all action after a problem arises to avoid being exposed. The period of silence might only last a month... or it might last a decade.

Fan Xian frowned. As head of a spy network, Yan Bingyun's capture was impossible, because he did not need to personally take on the dangerous duties of delivering information back to Qing or making inquiries himself. But the Eldest Princess had made her move, leaving the Overwatch Council's northern spy network paralyzed.

While Yan Bingyun had been in Northern Qi's hands, the royal court and the Overwatch Council had not dared to take the risk of getting in touch with those who had gone silent, and so there had been a year-long period of silence.

"I hope that a year of inactivity hasn't meant that everyone's gotten rusty."

"Do not worry, sir." The shopkeeper knew that as the young man had been able to take Yan's place, he was definitely a formidable member of the Council. Smelling the faint scent of blood on him, the shopkeeper was careful to respond. "I await your orders, sir."

"There are three matters; some urgent, others not." Fan Xian looked at the old man. He knew that he and the countless other Council spies had had a very difficult year, drifting in the wilderness like homeless orphans, so he made sure to speak gently. "The most important matter is that we immediately find out where Xiao En has been taken. The second matter is to investigate the true reason for the hostility between the Empress Dowager and the Emperor."

This was something that Fan Xian did not understand. It seemed that the young Emperor had bitten off more than he could chew.

The shopkeeper's face did not change. Although he knew that both of these tasks were extremely difficult, he could only calmly wait for the young man to give his third order.

"Investigating Xiao En's whereabouts is urgent; the matter in the palace less so." Fan Xian muttered something to himself. "As for the third order, I want to make something clear: the palace treasury has been smuggling goods to the north these past few years."

The shopkeeper squinted. There was a strange light in his eyes. "That is an issue regarding Xinyang, sir. Has the Council finally decided to make a move?"

Fan Xian shook his head. "Find... find out the truth for me, but don't make a single move against them. Make sure every factor that can be controlled is controlled. If the Council decides to make a move in the future, you need to make sure that everything you have at hand is enough to salvage this route entirely.'

"Understood." The shopkeeper knew that this was a long-term mission, and that he could take his time.

Fan Xian was thinking about something else. He didn't know whether that business with Master Cui was his mother-in-law's attempt to test him, or whether she was now making demands of him, so he had been forbearing. Although Xinyang did not know that the business with the pamphlets and Guangxin Palace was Fan Xian's doing, the clash in the Ministry of Justice had gradually brought his conflict with the Eldest Princess to the surface.

[1] Catties, taels, maces, and hao were all units of measurement used in imperial China.

Chapter 230: Happy News

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

"How should I respond, sir?"

This was a crucial point. Fan Xian was not sure how Yan Bingyun had first made contact with the agents under his command, so he was careful not to act without thinking carefully. "There won't be a specific handler in Shangjing within the next two months, but I'll appoint someone responsible for getting in touch with you for the time being."

The old shopkeeper looked somewhat concerned. "I ask that you exercise caution, sir. In the 20 years since Xiao En's capture, the Northern Qi Brocade Guard have been nowhere near on a par with the Red Riders of Northern Wei. But in an enemy nation, a subordinate must still consider those beneath him."

Fan Xian nodded. This was also why the Overwatch Council had not dared to contact those "orphans" abandoned in the north over the past year. "Do not worry," he said calmly. "I'll find the least trackable person in the whole Council."

Of course, he meant Wang Qinian, a man who had spent his life tracking others without ever being caught.

He couldn't hang around too long in that place. After exchanging a few words, Fan Xian got ready to leave, but before he did so, he suddenly had something else to say. "Change the password."

"Yes, sir," said the shopkeeper, bowing slightly.

"One-three-one-four-five-two-seven-seven-seven."

"Yes, sir." The shopkeeper repeated the seemingly random string of numbers without a single mistake.

Fan Xian nodded, satisfied, then returned to the main room. Like a merchant, he cupped his hands in farewell to the shopkeeper, not forgetting to pick up his two pots of oil. Seeing the customer leave, the young shop assistant poked fun at the shopkeeper. "Boss, isn't it a little early to be ordering in sesame oil?"

The shopkeeper looked at him and smiled. "Yes, well, it's big business."

The shop assistant pondered for a moment. Could such a crummy oil shop as their own really be doing business deals like the oil merchants of Dongyi? Several hundred catties of oil was big business indeed. The young man couldn't help but frown upon the old man's unthinking moneygrubbing.

Fan Xian carefully disposed of the oil he was carrying as he walked along the road. He didn't dare give it to a beggar, or casually throw it away, because the most crucial point of the Overwatch Council's spy operating procedures was that one should not underestimate the enemy's capabilities. Although Provost Shen Zhong of the Brocade Guard did not seem all that powerful on that rainy night in the brothel, Fan Xian knew that that was merely a pretence.

After having disposed completely of his jars of oil, Fan Xian set off on the road back to the diplomatic mission. The sky was darkening, and the crowds on the streets were thinning out. As he crossed an arch bridge over the Yuquan River, Fan Xian wiped his face with rainwater. Using both his hands, he got rid of the make-up he'd taken from the young lady's dwelling. It formed a dirty clump of reddish-yellow powder in the palms of his hands.

He ran his hand along the stone lions on the arch bridge, and the powder fell from his palms, quietly mixing in with the river water. No one would find even a trace of it.

Leaving the bridge and going through an alley, and turning making a turn to exit from a row of houses, Fan Xian had already regained his true features. He took off his rain hat and turned his clothing inside out, and he looked just as he had when he was leaving Haitang - handsome and elegant.

He returned to the diplomatic mission with a swagger in his step. The Brocade Guards, who had spent most of the days drinking tea, looked at him a little strangely. Fan Xian knew that news of the deaths of those three saboteurs had no doubt reached Shen Zhong's ears, but the Brocade Guard could only keep it to themselves. As for when they would make reprisals, that was none of Fan Xian's concern.

In the most secluded courtyard of the compound, under its long eaves, Yan Bingyun lay on a low couch. The couch was covered with a soft embroidered quilt. Although Fan Xian had treated his wounds, it would take a long time to recover from the torment he had suffered over the past year. There were wounds all over his body which he could not bear to be touched, so Fan Xian had thought of a way to keep him covered up. Thankfully the weather had not been too warm recently.

Though he knew that the detached northern spymaster was now emotionally and physically exhausted during the process of his recovery, Fan Xian still felt somewhat ashamed to have to trouble him, having relied on Yan Bingyun's strategies over the past few days in Northern Qi.

After Fan Xian gave him a brief explanation about what had happened that day, Yan Bingyun looked at him gloomily. "I hope you did not leave any tracks, sir. Otherwise my subordinates will all be rooted out. Even if you are Commissioner of the Overwatch Council, I will have to take you to tribunal."

Fan Xian shook his head. "I know that your power goes far beyond that. Although the individual contacts are safe, efficiency is too low. There are a number of other aspects that you will need to find a way to set in motion, but I probably don't have the time to deal with them. I am getting ready to hand the contacts over to Wang Qinian - I'm not sure how you feel about that proposal."

There was a strange look in Yan Bingyun's eyes. The past few days, this young high official had shown that he could only work in accordance with the rules. His greatest merit was that he was good at listening to his opinions. But today, he had hit the nail on the head when it came to the network in the north; it seemed that he was quite capable indeed.

"I'm happy with Wang Qinian..." He deliberated for a moment. "Of all those in the Council who hid themselves in the north at the earliest opportunity, Master Wang is one of them."

Fan Xian was a little surprised. He hadn't expected Wang Qinian to have been doing this since the beginning. "According to your plans," continued Yan Bingyun, "we can co-ordinate with Shang Shanhu and dig Xiao En out from his whereabouts. But I hope that the Council's men will not get too deeply involved."

Fan Xian responded to his request, knowing that he didn't want those hidden in the north involved because they had paid too high a price for the internal struggles of the court. "Don't worry," he promised, "I will act appropriately."

Yan Bingyun frowned. "Shang Shanhu is a lion. It is a pity he cannot find a position of strength in Shangjing and so he can only seek the Eldest Princess's help. As officials, we act on behalf of the Eldest Princess's will, as it should be by rights, but you must indeed act appropriately... I believe that the day when Shang Shanhu moves to rescue Xiao En will also be the day that the Eldest Princess and Shen Zhong get rid of the power of the army."

Fan Xian knew that the seemingly-indifferent official had guessed what he wanted to do. He couldn't say much more. "That is what I would like to see. I cannot underestimate the strength of Shen Zhong's control over Shangjing... Let them fight amongst themselves. In any case, it won't do Qing any harm."

After leaving the rear courtyard, Fan Xian found Wang Qinian and told him of his duties. Wang Qinian memorized the string of numbers, knowing that in the days to come, he would be responsible for this dangerous and important task. He was not that old shopkeeper at the oil shop; he was Fan Xian's trusted aide. So he had the courage to ask something. "One-three-one-four-five-two-seven-seven-seven... Sir, it seems like that string of numbers represents something."

"All my life I love money, money, money." Fan Xian laughed. In the dialect of Danzhou, the words for 'money' and 'seven' sounded very similar. [1]

Business had been good for the old oil-sellar over the past few days, and he'd sold a number of barrels of oil. News came to him in secret, and he began to re-establish contact with the Overwatch Council's network in the north after a year of silence. It hadn't taken much time. The spies, disguised as ordinary Northern Qi citizens, had all received their first missions in over a year.

Reports began to be fed back through all types of channels. They were collated and summarized by a number of personnel at the ends of the lines of communication, and finally sent to the oil store in Zhangjiadian.

At the same time, the Qing diplomatic mission attended a number of banquets, increasing their capacity for liquor considerably. Of course, shopkeeper Sheng from Xiushui Street ran over to the diplomatic mission's quarters a number of times, attempting to flatter Fan Xian, believing that he could get the information that both Xinyang and Shang Shanhu wanted from him.

They acted as mediators, handling a lot of information and choosing reports for further analysis. Finally, the one who came up with a precise conclusion was Yan Bingyun, who had spent his days in the rear courtyard, frequently coughing.

Fan Xian did not have too much to do. After all, he was the chief diplomat, and was busy drinking and entertaining guests. And today, he was entering the palace accompanied by Haitang. Haitang had told him a few days ago that the Empress Dowager had invited him to the palace to discuss business.

For Fan Xian, drinking was a happy occasion, and to drink with the still-attractive Empress Dowager of an enemy nation wasn't too bad either. But after Fan Xian had returned to the diplomatic mission, all of the officials and subordinates knew that he was not in a good mood, but no one knew why.

In his chambers, Fan Xian gave Lin Jing a cold glare. "Who is the chief diplomat of this mission? Master Lin or I?"

Lin Jing felt uneasy. "Why are you asking such a thing, Master Fan?" he asked nervously. "You're in charge, of course."

"Good, good." Fan Xian laughed. "So, tell me, Master Lin, when I entered the palace today, why did the Empress Dowager inform me that the Great Prince of Qing was to be married to the princess of Northern Qi? Is that not quite a major event? Why was I not made aware of this at any point since setting off for this mission? Honglu Temple and Taichang Temple have arranged this marriage over these past few days. Was I meant only to learn of it when escorting the princess on our return trip to Qing?"

Lin Jing gave a sigh of relief, given that this was all that the problem was. "Sir," he said with a smile, "please don't blame Lin Wen and me. We simply passed on handwritten letters from the Empress Dowager of Qing, addressed to the Empress Dowager of Qi. As lowly officials, there was no way for us to know that the two women were arranging their children's marriage in their letters. When news came from the palace, what could we say? I wanted to inform you, sir, but you have not been in the mission over the past few days, so I haven't had the chance to do so."

Lin Jing rolled his eyes. He knew that the young man was angry, and he smiled as he passed him a letter. "The official proclamation will arrive soon. This is a secret letter from the royal court, explaining His Majesty and the Empress Dowager's position. Of course, they want this wedding to go ahead... In fact, there are two happy occasions to celebrate. Congratulations, Master Fan."

[1] "One-three-one-four-five-two-seven-seven-seven" is pronounced yi san yi si wu er qi qi qi. "All my life I love money, money, money" is pronounced yi sheng yi si wo ai qian qian qian.

Chapter 231: Ruoruo Is Getting Married!

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

"Congratulations?! Stop screwing around!" Fan Xian became angry at the thought of more things to deal with. He even did a full imitation of Chen Pingping's catchphrase: "They worry so much over nothing, but they don't care if they work us half to death."

Such outrageous heresy startled Lin Wen, who tried to explain. "The Imperial court has rules in dealing with things. But the palace has its own ways. Sir, there's no need to be overly concerned."

Fan Xian nodded. While this marriage seemed improper, seeing both sides in such a panic made Fan Xian believe that this was the scenario that everyone wanted. However, since Southern Qing and Northern Qi were currently the two most powerful nations, if the two were to join through political marriage, the emperors of nearby lesser nations probably wouldn't be laughing anymore. Of course, the most troublesome aspect would still be Dongyu City, which was guarded by Sigu Sword practitioners.

"Oh yeah. Didn't you just say there's something worth celebrating?" Fan Xian frowned, not knowing what there was for him to celebrate about the Great Prince's marriage.

The Lin brothers looked at each other and chuckled. "You will know after reading this letter from the court." Customarily, since the head diplomat wasn't present to receive a letter from the Imperial court, Lin Jing, as the vice-diplomat, had the authority to open it.

"Just tell me." Fan Xian rubbed the area between his eyebrows, feeling a sense of uneasy that came from nowhere and was getting more intense.

"As you wish." Lin Jing smiled. "The Great Prince's marriage has been arranged, as has the Second Prince's. As per His Majesty's order, the Second Princes is to marry Ye Ling'er next spring."

Fan Xian paused slightly. The news gave him a strange feeling. "That young girl who calls me mentor is also getting married?" He had met the Second Prince and knew the Second Prince was well-educated, yet he was still unsettled and worried for Ye Ling'er. At the same time, he wondered what His Majesty was planning. This marriage would bind the Second Prince and the Ye household together. Could His Majesty really wish to… change the candidate for crown prince?

While shocked, Fan Xian did not show it on his face, "What does that have to do with me?"

Lin Wen spoke before his brother did. "Congratulations, Sir Fan. His Majesty also complimented the Young Lady of the esteemed manor as being virtuous and cultured, and arranged her to marry Prince Li Hongcheng…"

"The Young Lady of the esteemed manor?" Fan Xian felt stupid, "Which manor is that?" Only after a while did he realize something. "Could it be Ruoruo?"

Ruoruo is going to be married to Li Hongcheng?

"No!" Unexpectedly, Fan Xian stood up and whipped his sleeves!

The officials nearby all opened their mouths wide, not knowing why Sir Fan had reacted so strongly after finding out about his sister's marriage. Their congratulations had been genuine. In the Fan family, Count Sinan Fan Jian was the Minister of Revenue who was in control of Qing's money and food; Fan Xian was the Commissioner of the Overwatch Council and was married to the daughter of the Prime Minister who held a distinguished status; now Young Lady Fan was to marry Li Hongcheng, a proper prince… they would be the most influential family in Qing.

To think Sir Fan responded with… rejection?!

Fan Xian lost focus for a moment. He looked at everyone's shocked expression. Immediately, however, he recollected himself and laughed. "That won't do. Li Hongcheng visits brothels every day. If I, his brother-in-law, do not approve of him, there's no way I'd give my sister to him unless he plies me with a few hundred jars of top-quality liquor."

Fan Xian covered himself well. The various officials knew he and Crown Prince Jing were good friends, and therefore Fan Xian must have been joking.

The officials laughed along. Some promised to pay Fan Manor a visit after returning to the capital, while others joked to go with Sir Fan to find Crown Prince Jing and try to get some wine out of him.

Fan Xian chatted with officials with a lively expression, acting just like an elder brother who was overjoyed by news of his younger sister's marriage.

After the crowd dispersed, Fan Xian walked alone to the quiet rear courtyard. Standing next to a pillar, he stared at the stars peeking out between the dark clouds in the south. He was speechless for a long time.

My younger sister is getting married.

My younger sister is getting married!

He knew this was going to happen sooner or later. Not too long after he arrived into this world, when he told the story of Snow White to that little girl in Danzhou, he knew that little yellow monkey would get married to someone someday. Through the letters between the capital and Danzhou, Fan Xian also thought about the girl he was writing to, whom he had yet to meet. She, too, would get married to some man one day.

After coming to the capital, he finally met her. She was intelligent and revered him both as an elder brother and a mentor. Fan Xian chuckled as he thought of how her life would be difficult if she were to marry an ordinary man.

One day—perhaps on the day when Fan Xian guessed his identity—Fan Xian started to purposely refuse to think about his sister getting married.

Even after the emperor told both of them that he would arrange Ruoruo an excellent marriage, Fan Xian still refused to think about it.

But things couldn't always change according to one's desires. After Fan Xian's marriage, Fan Ruoruo's marriage naturally came next.

Fan Xian gently tapped the pillar next to him. His mind was a mess. He had once discussed this with his sister, promising her that, as her brother, he would definitely find her a good husband. But now that things had reached this point, Fan Xian, who always liked to play dumb, actually started to feel like he was. Countless lines darted across his mind, making breathing and thinking difficult.

The sound of his palm slapping the pillar echoed in the yard.

"What a racket." A cold voice came from the other end of the hallway.

Fan Xian smiled bitterly. He was so shaken that he forgot Yan Bingyun shared this courtyard with him.

"Sir, you appear troubled." Yan Bingyun wasn't speaking out of concern, but out of curiosity, since this Commissioner normally kept his thoughts to himself while putting on a clear and cheery front.

Fan Xian stopped looking at the night sky and thought for a moment. "My sister is getting married."

"The young lady of the Fan household?" Yan Bingyun said quietly. "A talented woman, famous in the capital. This marriage must have been arranged by His Majesty."

"Indeed. My future brother-in-law is Crown Prince Jing, Li Hongcheng."

Yan Bingyun said, "All the young men in the capital knew he liked your sister."

Fan Xian blanked out a bit. "Really? How come I never knew that?"

"I hear that you and Li Hongchen are good friends. Now with Fan Manor joining King Jing, outside of a few members of the royal family, there really isn't anyone comparable. Sir, I must congratulate you."

Fan Xian felt that Yan Bingyun's cold congratulation held a hint of malice. He tilted his head and smiled. "True, it is joyful indeed."

"If so, why are you so worried?"

Fan Xian smiled, "Hongcheng is my friend, of course I like him. However…" He shrugged, "having a frequent visitor of pleasure boats as my brother-in-law; I believe anyone would be worried."

Yan Bingyun coughed twice and jeered. "Sir Fan, are you saying you have never visited a brothel in your life?"

Fan Xian shook his head with a smile; he was in a strange mood today and didn't want to argue with Yan Bingyun. Currently there were no candles lit inside and the stars were scarce in the sky. It was all dark and quiet in the courtyard. Fan Xian turned around to look at Yan Bingyun's constant coldness. Suddenly, something came to him and he asked:

"Do you want to marry my sister?"

"Nonsense!" Yan Bingyun chided such an absurd question.

Fan Xian shrugged and sighed. "Figures. You only love yourself; you wouldn't know how to treasure a woman."

Yan Bingyun ignored him.

Fan Xian continued, "How did things conclude with Miss Shen? You lied to her. Shen Zhong isn't a push-over."

Yan Bingyun's face was chilling as always, but Fan Xian, with his sharp eyes, finally discovered a hint of sadness in Yan Bingyun's eyes. Yan Bingyun said quietly, "I'm no lecher. As for Miss Shen… there's nothing going on between us."

Fan Xian understood. Yan Bingyun and Miss Shen were bound to live their separate lives far apart. While Fan Xian didn't know whether Yan Bingyun had been emotionally moved by the separation, he should have felt at least somewhat guilty.

Fan Xian's thoughts once again returned to Ruoruo's marriage, and his worries resurfaced. Truthfully, everyone was right; it would be better for Ruoruo to marry Li Hongcheng than the other princes. Fan Xian should be happy about this, but he couldn't be.

In truth, not even Fan Xian knew what he himself was thinking. But perhaps some details—his initial reactions, such as first rising, or then dimly clapping his hands—revealed his deepest wishes that even he was no aware of.

He said to Yan Bingyun, "Of course Miss Shen can't marry you. But if… if that possibility existed, what would you do?"

"I never dwell on the impossible," Yan Bingyun replied coldly.

Fan Xian grinned and left. Yan Bingyun, staring at his figure, which disappeared into the darkness, fell deep into thought.

Chapter 232: The More The Merrier

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

The three weddings were three brief interludes, or at least that was how it seemed. No one knew of Fan Xian's frustration. When he thought of the hidden possibilities, Fan Xian felt his blood run cold. He was unsure what to say. He was far away in a foreign land, and Wu Zhu - the only person he could truly speak freely with - had disappeared without a trace. There was no way he could discuss this.

Some things have to be talked over, but this could not be spoken of with anyone.

To an observer's eyes, Fan Xian seemed overjoyed. He had already begun to make preparations for returning to the Qing capital. The officials presumed Fan Xian was anxious to return to the capital and get ready for his sister's wedding, while also attempting to derive his own benefit out of the marriage at the royal court. No one knew that beneath Fan Xian's calm, even happy exterior, he had already rid himself of his initial astonishment and had begun to follow the steps of a plan he had drawn up a long time ago.

Yan Bingyun's had certainly been of assistance to Fan Xian. He presumed that Yan was correct to some extent - there was no use overthinking the impossible - but at the same time, he told himself that if Ruoruo wanted to get married, then as her brother, he wanted to make sure that her marriage was a grand, happy, blessed one. Even if Li Hongcheng had gotten caught up in the Second Prince's attempts to usurp his position, for Ruoruo's sake, Fan Xian wanted to make sure that peace reigned in King Jing's household.

Of course, if Ruoruo did not want to get married, then that was an entirely different story.

Having concluded his thoughts on the matter, Fan Xian was calm once more - at least on the surface.

He had visited the palace twice over the past few days, mainly to handle the matter of the first ever marriage union between the two countries since their founding. It was no small matter, and no one dared to neglect it, including Fan Xian. What made Fan Xian happy was the fact that, under pressure from the imperial concubines, Shen Zhong and Chang Ninghou had finally bowed their heads, and the spy agencies of both nations had made initial steps toward sharing the profit for goods imported into the north through irregular channels in the coming years. As part of this plan, Fan Xian - as an important figure in both the Overwatch Council and the palace treasury - was guaranteed to profit handsomely.

In truth, this in itself did not make Fan Xian feel gratified, because although his plan needed financial support from now on, the proceeds of smuggling were still not as great as he had planned them to be. What really made him happy was the fact that, since the channels needed to be changed, pressure would be put on exports from Xinyang, reducing their profits and presumably weakening the Eldest Princess's influence as a result.

Fan Xian also understood that the reason the Eldest Princess was sitting by and watching all of this happen was because it was crucial that she cooperate with Shang Shanhu in rescuing Xiao En and his terrifying secret. It seemed that this clearly showed that the Eldest Princess's own interests in the royal court of Qing were tied up with his. This method, which was somewhat like something Lei Feng[1] would do, left Fan Xian rather surprised.

And it was over those days that the ailing Yan Bingyun's capability for planning manifested itself to its greatest extent. When Fan Xian received his dossier, he couldn't help but let out a sigh of admiration. Yan Bingyun's methods were simple, yet they were the safest, most appropriate way to ensure the greatest safety of Qing's hidden strength within Northern Qi.

The spies of the Kingdom of Qing came in many different types; those who Yan Bingyun controlled were deep undercover, like the oil-seller, or the attendants hidden in the royal palace, or even a number of officials. There were also those who worked more openly, such as the merchants on Xiushui Street and the travelling salesmen who came from all the regions of the south. They were mainly there to do business, but as they travelled through the land, they would, naturally, feed information back to the Kingdom of Qing. As the days passed, overt and covert operatives throughout the nation all sprang into action. The intelligence system awoke from its year of hibernation, immediately revealing a formidable capability for intelligence-gathering.

Everything was prepared. Now they simply waited for Shang Shanhu to make his move.

Fan Xian and Yan Bingyun sat calmly in the diplomatic mission, drinking their wine. Fan Xian glanced at the cold-faced Yan Bingyun. "Master Yan, as you are my subordinate after all, could you not pull that face at me every day?"

"As your subordinate, I'm not going to lick your boots," was Yan Bingyun's cold but respectful reply.

Fan Xian smiled. He knew that he had been hidden in Northern Qi for four years, and had a number of different appearances. At the time, no one could have guessed that the gifted scholar Yun, the young son of a seafaring merchant who strolled freely through the halls of Qi's rich and powerful families, was in fact a spymaster of the Kingdom of Qing. He was gifted in social intercourse, aided by money and power. His stony-faced expression toward Fan Xian was because he was his commanding officer, rather than someone he wanted to charm.

"They really are quite stupid in Northern Qi," said Fan Xian, taking a sip from his teacup. "Letting you go so soon, and then letting you stay safely in the diplomatic mission for so long. If it were me, I wouldn't have swapped you even for ten divisions of troops." This was a quote from a story in Fan Xian's former life, so Yan Bingyun didn't recognize it, and had no reaction. [2]

"Perhaps they thought that the royal court was already stupid enough to exchange Xiao En for me." Thinking about this, Yan Bingyun still seemed rather despondent. "But for Northern Qi to have Xiao En back is of no great use. Still trying to find a way to kill him - now that really is stupid."

Fan Xian sighed. "Somebody once told me that a country is like a person. It can never be a perfect machine, and it usually changes according to the ruler's moods. There is a difference of opinion in the Northern Qi royal family, but it's only thanks to Ku He's brilliance that they re-imprisoned Xiao En. If Shang Shanhu weren't Xiao En's adopted son, then no one would dare to challenge the decision of the royal family."

"And you?" Yan Bingyun frowned. "On the road north, you clearly had the chance to kill Xiao En, but you let him go. Now the enemy is in Shangjing, and you want to save him. Then after he is rescued... Really, it's quite remarkable."

Fan Xian laughed. He couldn't tell a soul about the secret that Xiao En held, and as that was the case, the whole process was beginning to look rather absurd.

He thought for a moment. "It is like chess," he explained to Yan Bingyun. "Although, ultimately, you want to checkmate the enemy's king, our pawns will take different routes, and the benefit we derive from it will be different."

If he had killed Xiao En at Wuduhe, not only would it be impossible to know whether the pawn he was willing to sacrifice at the time would return home alive, but he would also never have any way to know where the temple was. And with this operation to rescue Xiao En, which had taken all of the Overwatch Council's strength in the north, Fan Xian wanted to end the game in a checkmate; he hoped that having gone through so many twists and turns, he could stand to gain something that Chen Pingping had never been able to.

"Xiao En will not break out of prison, and the Brocade Guard will not be willing to kill him. After all, Shang Shanhu enjoys a great reputation within the Northern Qi military."

"The fact that that old devil Xiao En is still alive is truly pitiful." There was a loud sigh. "After all, he is old. He'll never be the way he once was."

"I don't recommend that you make the move yourself," said Yan Bingyun, looking at him coldly. "If Ku He really does let go of his arrogance and get involved, then how would you make it out alive?"

Fan Xian was silent. He couldn't let anyone else hear of Xiao En's secret. He was the only one who could take the risk of acting. He tapped slowly on the table, closing his eyes, imagining himself as a chess player moving somewhat clumsily around the chessboard. Cunning, scheming characters stood on both sides of the board. There was Ku He and the Eldest Princess, the Empress Dowager and Shang Shanhu. Compared to them, Fan Xian couldn't measure up.

A stubborn child may have no other skills, but the one thing he does have is the courage to overturn the chessboard.

With all of their official duties concluded, the diplomatic mission and the Northern Qi royal court both breathed a sigh of relief, and began feasting vigorously. Fan Xian was no exception. In the peaceful city of Shangjing, the only unusual thing was that, along the banks of the Yuquan River, there had been a number of strange murder cases, and in the wake of these murder cases, there seemed to have been some particularly frightening cases of arson. Over the following days, the light from the fires reflected in the river waters beloved by the people of Northern Qi.

Fan Xian knew that these cases were cover-ups for something. When the Kingdom of Qing's intelligence personnel had awoken from their year-long slumber, Shen Zhong, Provost of the Discipline Commission of the Brocade Guard, had caught their scent, and the Brocade Guardsmen hidden amongst the people of Shangjing had moved fiercely and appropriately in response.

The murders had already taken out a number of the agents that had been under Yan Bingyun's command. After all, to be stationed in a foreign country doing business right under the enemy's nose without alerting them was nigh-on impossible. But the intelligence network installed throughout the north had been broken into several pieces, so they did not worry that the Brocade Guard would dig up too many of their bases of operation.

So Yan Bingyun's expression turned increasingly gloomy. The Fourth Bureau of the Overwatch Council only had a total of seventeen spies in Shangjing, and now they had made a great sacrifice for the matter involving the Eldest Princess and Xiao En. He couldn't help but feel angry.

Fan Xian did not move to console him, nor did he say much at all. He simply continued drinking, seeking pleasure, making merry, and visiting prostitutes.

It was the sixth year of the sixth month of the sixth day of the reign of the Emperor of Qi. The three sixes made this a very auspicious day. Fan Xian didn't believe what westerners said about the devil in his old life, so when he tied the collar button of his cloak, his fingers were stable, and he seemed full of confidence.

He carefully collected the weapons and drugs that he kept on his person. He kept some in his belt, and some on the inside of his clothes. His hidden crossbow, which could fire three bolts simultaneously, was strapped to his left elbow. The pouch containing the smoke bombs secretly created by the Third Bureau of the Overwatch Council was around his right wrist; it was the size of a finger knuckle.

Fan Xian looked at the metal box on the table under dim lamplight. He narrowed his eyes as he opened it. Inside were three pills: red, blue, and white. They looked somewhat strange.

The red pill was not small in size, but its smell was somewhat faint; one could not tell from the smell what it was made of. Many years ago, Fei Jie had left this pill behind for him, concerned about the zhenqi in his body. Fan Xian thought for a moment, then hid the pill, which looked like a dragon's eye, in his belt.

Looking at the leftover pills, Fan Xian laughed bitterly. Changing his mind, he put them all in his belt. Perhaps he might meet with that grandmaster. If he did, then when it came to carrying things that could save his life, the more the merrier.

[1] Lei Feng (1940-1962) was a legendary Chinese soldier whose name was used as a byword for altruism and dedication.

[2] Mao Zedong, grieving the loss of his trusted lieutenant Lu Deming, is reported to have said "Return Lu Deming to me! I would not exchange him even for three divisions of troops."

Chapter 233: Overlooking the Prison Break

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Hiding the pills, Fan Xian twitched his nose. For some reason, his mind had started racing, and the powerful zhenqi in his body had begun to flow quickly through his vast meridians. All of his pores seemed to open up, greedily absorbing all of the energy that they could.

The faint smell of ephedra leaves had excited him.

He took the Tiger Guard longsword from the table. It had been modified beyond recognition. He felt its weight in his hand, and using a cloth band, he carefully fastened it to his back, making sure that it was at a convenient angle for when he might need to draw it. As for the slender black dagger he carried strapped to his leg, after all these years it seemed like it had become a part of his body, and it required no further attention. With a creak, the door was pushed open. Wang Qinian walked in, bowed to Fan Xian, and said something in his ear.

Fan Xian nodded, glanced over the leftover tools on the table, and indicated that he had begun.

Wang Qinian smiled awkwardly. "My craftsmanship is nowhere near yours, sir."

"You never saw my disguise," Fan Xian said scoldingly. "How do you know you're worse than me? You were a wanted thief in many nations for years; did you never dress up in disguise?"

"Did you not take care of the person in the next room yourself?" Wang Qinian said, slightly flattering him. "That craftsmanship really is something. Nobody else knows, but in my view you're like a god come to earth."

"Nonsense." Fan Xian sat down on a stool and laughed. "There are clay idols in the roadside shrines of the capital that look better than I do."

One was brazen, one even more so. The two of them swapped flippant words, effectively dispersing the last worries still left behind in Fan Xian's mind. Wang Qinian was his closest aide, and save for the tracking outside Cangzhou and his recent responsibility for making contact with the intelligence network, he had never played a major role. Luckily, he was skilled as a comedic fall-guy, and able to help Fan Xian relax.

Wang Qinian picked up a dagger and shaved Fan Xian's eyebrows, then scooped up some moistened powder from the table and began to apply it to Fan Xian's face. The paste-like texture and the color looked somewhat unusual on Fan Xian's face. He couldn't help but frown. "Maybe some cornstarch would help."

Fan Xian sighed. "Where would we find some? The other day I snuck into the house of an official and took some powder and rouge. It was pretty effective."

In a large residence in the south of the city, holding their torches high in the vast courtyard, a dozen or so people waited silently, dressed in black from head to toe. To the side of the courtyard, a middle-aged man sat in contemplation on a high chair, his eyes closed. His right hand caressed the sleek jet-black arm of the chair, and his feet rested imposingly on the bluestone tiled floor.

This was General Shang Shanhu, who had led Qi in seven years of fighting against the barbarians of the north. There were few generals whose names were known throughout the land, and he was the strongest and most well-known of all the military men of Northern Qi.

Some time later, Shang Shanhu slowly opened his tiger-like eyes. His cold, piercing gaze penetrated the person kneeling in front of him. "Since the palace leaves me no way out, I will not resign myself to my fate. Take heed in this endeavor. Though those southerners would have me pay a high price, no one knows what I have planned."

His voice was not loud, but it was still deep and resounding, like the sounding of a bell. One could tell that this general was a man of great power.

The one who kneeled before him was Tan Wu, who had passed the days gloomily in the capital after he had been soundly beaten by Gao Da in front of the diplomatic mission. He cupped his hands in salute. "Master, the southerners are cunning. Take caution."

"I am taking the appropriate measures," said Shang Shanhu. Today was the last time he would enter the palace. The young Emperor still would not profess his trust in him. The Empress Dowager continued to hold Xiao En in captivity. Shang Shanhu worried for his adoptive father's safety, and he had no alternative but to prepare for this criminal endeavor.

"We cannot give the young scion of the Zhan family the opportunity." Shang Shanhu laughed bitterly. If it weren't for the secret his adoptive father knew, then he presumed the young Emperor would grant him this favor. Though the young Emperor was rather soft and effeminate, he still had the awe-inspiring power of his father Zhan Qingfeng. He could not give him the opportunity to strengthen the nation in a short period of time, and even lead troops south to unite the land. So there was no way that Xiao En could leave his prison alive. When he thought of the decades of misery his adoptive father had been put through, tears welled in his eyes.

"Go." He waved a hand, and then returned to the rear courtyard, where his wife was preparing the gifts for the Empress Dowager's birthday.

"Yes sir." Kneeling on the ground, Tan Wu acknowledged his order and left.

In a residence outside Chongwu Gate in Shangjing stood a small, unremarkable courtyard. The dense tangle of streets and alleyways that surrounded the houses were so interweaved that even long-term residents of Shangjing could find themselves lost. A short distance away from this courtyard stood a handful of trees which were a common sight in the north. The trees were tall and straight as blades, their off-white bark clearly visible in the dark night. Thanks to the arrival of summer and the plentiful rains, their branches and leaves had flourished.

Fan Xian made careful adjustments to his breathing to control the zhenqi in his meridians. Clothed in black, his body blended in with his surroundings, making sure he could not be discovered. He glanced through the tree's leaves, which were the size of the palm of one's hand, peering into the residence below him and to his right. Calmly, he waited for Shang Shanhu's operation to rescue Xiao En to begin.

Xiao En had been held captive inside a small building. This was information the agents of the Fourth Bureau of the Overwatch Council had expended great effort to discover. But the only ones making a move tonight were Shang Shanhu's fearless men. Yan Bingyun's men had already returned to the shadows. And no one knew whether Xinyang would send any sort of experts to assist the operation.

In breaking such an important prisoner out of jail, Shang Shanhu was breaking the law. Whether or not he was ultimately successful, the connection between the royal family and the army of Northern Qi was on the edge of being permanently ruptured. Fan Xian thought about this as he lay on the branch of the tree like a koala, and he couldn't help feel some admiration for the nobles of the south.

Although the Eldest Princess was a madwoman, she was a very powerful madwoman. Since the day she had sold out Yan Bingyun, it seemed that no matter what changes had happened afterwards, she had managed to benefit from them. She was a complicated woman indeed.

The night darkened, and the residence below the tall tree remained quiet. In the distance, a child's cries came from the riverside. Nearby, a horse strapped to a carriage feebly chewed at hay. The stars hid themselves behind the clouds, and the leaves on the tree rustled gently against him in the night wind. It was just like any other night in Shangjing; there was nothing unusual about it.

Without any indication, Fan Xian's eyes widened as he looked beneath him, still hidden on the tree branch.

The jailbreak had begun!

A carriage slowly pulled up to the doorway of the small building. At the same time, a small cart, covered in a dark grey cloth, quietly rolled up to the rear wall of the courtyard house. The guards in the courtyard did not seem to have noticed anything suspicious, but from his high vantage point in the tree, Fan Xian could clearly see everything that was happening.

A middle-aged man stepped out from the carriage, and at the same time, Fan Xian saw a number of shadows disappear into the surroundings of the building.

"Who is it?" The Brocade Guardsman tasked with guarding Xiao En was on high alert. The top half of his body appeared from above the wall, holding a heavy crossbow pointed at the middle-aged man outside the door.

The middle-aged man was Tan Wu, who Fan Xian had seen once before. He saw him smile. As he opened his mouth to speak, two dark blurs flashed past him. Two deadly crossbow bolts flew from either side of him, sticking firmly in the Brocade Guardsman's throat. His blood splattered out.

The two iron shafts were lodged in his neck. It was a bloody scene indeed.

"Attack!" Tan Wu gave his order, and a loud sound came in response. A sturdy-looking man came out of the carriage. He was eight feet tall, clutching an iron hammer, and he took long strides as he walked up to the doorway of the house. His meaty right arm smashed against the door. Considering his strength, the wooden door should have shattered to pieces.

There was a deafening crash!

A number of wooden splinters went flying... but the door was still unbroken! It had been reinforced with steel plating. High up in the tree, Fan Xian shivered. The places where the Brocade Guard held the most serious criminals were not easily destroyed.

In an instant, the Brocade Guards inside the house had already responded. They gathered in the courtyard. Under the giant man's powerful hammer blows, the reinforced door began to creak and tremble. It seemed like it couldn't take another blow.

With a murderous yell, ten figures in black vaulted over the wall, killing the Brocade Guards inside where they stood. The black-clothed figures were skilled fighters. The most dangerous of them had a clear bloodlust in his fighting style, and his every move was like a crack of thunder, striking with no regard for his own life. The Brocade Guards, who had guarded the flourishing city of Shangjing for years, were no match for these men. Their blood filled the night air, and soon they had been defeated.

Fan Xian watched it all from high up in the tree. He knew that Shang Shanhu had broken down the door because Xiao En's crippled legs left him unable to stand tall. Watching the robust man smash down the door with his brute strength, he couldn't help but wonder whether he could have just smashed the wall. Yet it seemed that he had forgotten that Xiao En's legs had been broken on his command.

Chapter 234: Ambush

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

With a sound louder than a sundered gong, the steel between the wood boards was finally broken by the strong man. There was no joy or applause in reception to its breaking and the soldiers of the Brocade Guard in the council chamber were silent.

The door collapsed. The well-prepared Brocade Guard, equipped with their small crossbows, let loose a hail of bolts in quick response.

The strong man's right arm was one that displayed countless past wounds. His true strength had already been fully drained and, looking at the bolts bearing down upon him, he hadn't the energy to react. Hearing the whiz of the oncoming bolts, they struck his wide body; one in particular pierced his eye. With a squelch, crimson bits of gore projected from the socket.

"Ah!" The man howled in pain. Pierced by the barrage of bolts, he moved toward the courtyard. With each heavy step, blood squirted from his wounds.

After his third step, he tumbled down upon the slate floor like a mountain, in a plume of dust. His blood was everywhere. This made the Brocade Guard step back a few steps too.

The strong man's dead body was extremely wide, so it shielded the others from most of the bolts that were fired from the courtyard. By using his body as protection, Tan Wu and a few of the elites that remained snuck forward like a brisk wind. By the time the strong man fell down near the Brocade Guard, they had drawn near to their enemies.

Now, the battle upon the high wall had moved to the courtyard. A dozen of the black-clothed men, wielding their extremely rare Zhiwan daggers, of which only a few existed within the capital, had killed and mutilated over 20 of the Brocade Guard with extreme violence and cruelty. Even though their numbers were lesser than their enemy, the Brocade Guard were unable to resist their onslaught.

The scene was comparable to a large shark in the deep sea as it ripped, tore and fed on schools of smaller fish. The large groups of fish were being eaten by the sharks, coloring the sea battle red. It wouldn't be long before they were all consumed.

But Tan Wu could not wait any longer. His adoptive father was still in the courtyard. Tan Wu gestured with his right hand for the men-in-black to present their three greatest warriors to lead the way forward and begin the killing.

Even though they had lost three men, the Brocade Guard felt no relief. Amidst the incessant clanging of swords, the occasional squirt of blood would be seen, followed by the writhing of a fallen comrade on the floor, having lost an arm or been stabbed through the heart.

High above, in a tall tree, Fan Xian calmly watched the battle unfold. Knowing things were never this simple, he assumed the plan devised by Yan Bingyun had already been approved by Master Sheng. Shang Shanhu and Xinyang both believed this plan of assault was one of great divination; therefore, Yan Bingyun was sure to know what was behind the Brocade Guard.

Tan Wu also believed things weren't as simple as they appeared.

…

…

A single scream erupted, the sort that would be let out by a fallen soldier. It was a warning. The three –black-clothed warriors who were first to enter the building were knocked back. They flew through the air back into the courtyard drenched in blood. It was hard to imagine that the Brocade Guard were the ones inside the tower, for the average soldier did not possess such power. Inside were the Brocade Guard's elite.

Tan Wu's face did not change. Quickly launching himself into the air with a leap taken from the tip of his toes, he brutally beat down his chosen opponent three times. And to coincide with each hit, three distinct, audible pounds rang out.

"I did not expect you to be here to defend this place, Vice-provost Xiao." As Tan Wu looked upon this green-clad person with an unconcerned expression, he recognized him as one of the Brocade Guard's most renowned soldiers. Xiao Yuanbing, vice-provost of the Discipline Commission, had deep eyes that shone with the fire of life. Coldly, he looked upon Tan Wu and said, "Empress Dowager knows of you and your fellow traitors' coming and, as such, I have arrived here to defend this place. To look at who will be able to free the prisoner!"

The vice-provost's mannerisms painted him as a supremely confident and formidable man. Tan Wu raised his hand to his lips and coughed twice; specks of blood followed. He knew the foe before him was not an opponent he could take on with assured victory. Even so, he felt no fear. With squinted eyes, Tan Wu peered intently toward the back of the courtyard.

Fan Xian, still perched within the tall tree, no longer paid attention to the battle. Instead, he was watching a trolley placed against a stone wall at back of the courtyard. It was an incredibly strong structure.

Xiao Yuanbing, the vice-provost, could just about discern a faint hissing noise. With skewed eyebrows, as Tan Wu rushed forward, he knocked him aside with a single fist and turned his gaze toward the courtyard as well.

…

…

Fan Xian, with great care, repositioned his stance in a manner that would allow him to exit the tree at an immediate need. Looking in the direction of the trolley, he muttered a single word: "Boom."

A deafening roar struck terror into everybody in the surrounding area. How the trolley exploded, nobody knew. It was like one giant lightning strike, and a hole manifested upon the great stone wall in the back of the yard.

Rubble and stones of great proportion were propelled through the air. At the moment of the explosion, the flames eviscerated thirty soldiers of the Brocade Guard who were in hiding there.

This was the greatest gift the Overwatch Council had ever bestowed upon Shang Shanhu. The trolley full of explosives – the work of the Third Bureau – had finally been given a purpose. Of course, the use of these explosives was Fan Xian's suggestion, but the amount given to them by the Third Bureau exceeded their expectations. The explosion was of such magnificent proportion, however, that he was frightened for the safety of Xiao En on the other side.

The airborne rubble returned to the ground as a black carriage, with little regard for its own safety, backed up towards the newly created opening in the stone wall. Clambering across rubble, through plumes of thick dust, several people also followed suit, and entered the back of the courtyard. It wasn't long before they returned, bearing an individual whose legs were visibly crippled. One could also quite easily discern his white, scraggy hair. And after they hoisted this person onto the carriage, it quickly took off into the shadows of an adjacent alley. That person was Xiao En.

Strangely, Fan Xian could only smirk. He did not descend from the tree to pursue the carriage.

As the brave carriage made its daring, high-speed escape, the sound of galloping hooves reverberated across the capital.

Vice-provost Xiao was locked in combat with Tan Wu, and it prevented him from attending to the chaos and subsequent freeing of Xiao En behind him. Shang Shanhu attacked the front door to divert all forces from the back entrance of the yard, allowing for the unnoticed placement of explosives. Yet despite the commotion out front, Xiao had still kept an additional thirty soldiers lying in wait at the rear wall.

In the aftermath of the explosion, however, the rest of the battle did not carry out as expected.

In the wake of the explosion, Xiao's heart began to race and he wondered whether the terrible force of sound behind him was of this earth, or whether it was the noise of an enraged God. It was at this moment, also, that the spirits of his men flagged and their eagerness to do battle wavered.

In Xiao's momentary distraction, Tan Wu saw this as an opportunity to finish his foe once and for all. But Xiao, ever wary, brought forward a few of the Brocade Guard's soldiers to fight in his stead before diverting his full attention. Tan Wu let out a war cry and unleashed the fury of his fists to lay waste to the enemies before him. As this happened, the battle began to wind down as several of the men-in-black took for the exits, ready to disappear into the darkness.

…

…

The noise of galloping horses could be heard once more, however. Subverting the expectations of all, the carriage that had once departed into the shadows of the night returned.

Tan Wu was just as surprised, as he led a number of the men-in-black towards the southern end of the courtyard, at a junction which split into three separate pathways. He promptly yelled, "Why have you not left!?"

The carriage was beaten and scarred; the work of long-range weaponry. The carriage driver was an elite soldier, but even he wore a face that was stricken with fear. "General," he hissed, "we fell right into their trap!"

Following this, the driver dropped the arm he had been using to clutch his chest tightly and keeled over before falling to the ground, revealing a gaping wound. He would arise no more.

The horse in the front wasn't wounded, but it was as if it had sensed its master's death, and so it reared and neighed with visible concern. Rain began to fall, as if in response to the horse's grief. As the downpour grew and grew, the rapid thumping of rain on the housing tiles rose in volume too.

It had been a pitch black night, but now at last, the stars returned to the skies and cast their faint light upon the capital; revealing the carriage's location at the same time.

The Brocade Guard, with even greater numbers, shed their shadow-born concealment and descended upon the carriage like a swarm from all directions. The lone carriage and its nine men-in-black were wholly surrounded, and countless pikes were raised at them. There was no hope of escape.

"Surrender at once!" The Brocade Guard stepped apart and made way for the passage of someone else. Fan Xian, still watching, believed him to be an important character of the Northern Qi Kingdom. He was correct, for this person was Shen Zhong, Provost of the Discipline Commission of the Brocade Guard. Shen Zhong smiled and said, "Shang Shanhu kindly provided me with this opportunity; it is something I thank him for dearly."

The prison break was a failure. Shen Zhong had finally gained the opportunity to bring Shang Shanhu down. In this situation, there was nothing he could do about it.

Tan Wu was as fearless as ever, but anger was his dominant emotion at this time. Throughout the night, he had envisioned what were to happen if he were to fail. He himself was one of Shang Shanhu's soldiers, and he was not one to cherish his own life. The fire of hatred burned brighter. It was already suspected that Shen Zhong would ambush him and for this, he had already devised a way to deal with such a predicament.

But the fire that was to prevent a pursuit of the escaped carriage had not been started.

The soldiers of the Brocade Guard, those hiding in the alleys, were to be enveloped in fear by now; but they were not.

…

…

Fan Xian, still perched within the boughs of the tall tree, calmly observed the situation developing below. Without a trace of emotion, he watched Tan Wu, who was as furious as a hawk. Shang Shanhu was responsible for the attack, and their escape was to be ensured by Xinyang and the Overwatch Council's covert operatives in Shangjing. And yet neither the Eldest Princess, Yan Bingyun, nor Fan Xian did anything.

Comparing Shang Shanhu's men and the northern soldiers with those from Qing, the latter were uniformly insidious and well-coordinated when dealing with foreign affairs.

Chapter 235: Failure

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

It was autumn, in the fifth year of Tianbao. The young Emperor, via a secret letter, made a promise to Shang Shanhu. "I will return Xiao En home to our country." And so the famous general, Shang Shanhu, left behind the northern fortress he had commanded for over a decade. With a band of soldiers and Tan Wu, he departed and made way to the capital Shangjing, for he believed the Emperor was never one for deception.

Upon Xiao En's capture in the capital, the Emperor had no desire to let him go, for he longed to know the secrets he harbored.

During this time, Empress Dowager wanted Xiao En dead, for Ku He did not desire for anyone else to know of Xiao En's secrets.

Because the Brocade Guard's monitoring of Shang Shanhu was too restrictive, he did not have much help in Shangjing. He was only able to rely on his reputation within the army, something even the Emperor and Empress Dowager had to respect. It was for his military influence that they chose not to humiliate or be too harsh on him. This entire, precarious situation regarding Xiao En and Shang Shanhu was something the Northern Qi Palace would prefer cloaking their eyes to. Therefore, if the opportunity to weaken Shang Shanhu's power or stance amongst the populace ever arose, they would not squander it.

Like today.

Shen Zhong looked at Tan Wu, who was standing near the beaten carriage. Knowing everything that had transpired, and knowing that he would be unable to charge Shang Shanhu with treason, he believed that by capturing his men and his most trusted ally, Shang Shanhu's reputation would be dealt a significant blow amongst the army. Colluding with the Qing Kingdom was a crime no soldier would be able to bear.

Tan Wu shook his head and muttered an insult at Shen Zhong beneath his breath: "You southern dog."

Shen Zhong, with a smile, responded, "I garnered a good look at the explosion from earlier. Who else but the southern Overwatch Council's Third Bureau could create such a contraption? The southern people were aiding General Tan Wu in a prison break; it doesn't get any clearer than that."

Tan Wu paid no attention to Shen Zhong's attempt at riling him up. He simply turned around and looked at the nine men standing behind him. These elite troops had been trained extensively by Shang Shanhu himself, and tonight, many of them had died. If it wasn't for the betrayal of the Southerners, Tan Wu believed he could have brought each and every soldier out of the battle alive.

Tan Wu turned around once more and stared back at Shen Zhong. He bowed and said, "Could you please deliver a message on my behalf?"

"What would that be?" replied Shen Zhong, with a mannerism that suggested a lack of true concern. Shen Zhong assumed that even if anything were to happen to Tan Wu, the capture and interrogation of others would yield the results he desired.

"The one who killed me is Fan Xian."

Tan Wu, the most trusted aide of General Shang Shanhu, was undoubtedly in the know of who exactly was involved in the planning of this entire ordeal. Fan Xian, Commissioner of the southern Overwatch Council, was conveniently in the capital at this time; therefore it was obvious what role he had in this plan. Tan Wu was fuming, and felt an overwhelming sense of betrayal. Tan Wu could not help but yell Fan Xian's name as it rolled off his tongue. Hundreds within the capital must have heard that name be called out.

Fan Xian maintained his composure, as he continued to watch the unfolding events from the boughs of that tall tree as though he had not heard his named called. In his heart, he believed that Shang Shanhu would understand his dishonorable actions throughout this entire ordeal. Especially since Tan Wu shouted like that.

Following Tan Wu's outburst, he unsheathed his sword and within seconds, slashed his own face before decapitating himself outright.

Immediately after, the drawing of nine more swords rang out, complete with the dropping of nine more heads. On the slanted road, nine heads rolled alongside Tan Wu's all together, leaving a trail of blood as they went. Tan Wu's now frozen expression was one of pure anger.

Strangely, Shen Zhong did not seek to stop this mass act of suicide and instead watched coldly, with nary an expression. He remained motionless for a while, until speaking once more beneath his breath. With genuine sincerity and quiet admiration, he said, "These are the brave and revered warriors of their nation? It is unfortunate to see them become victims of this conspiracy. May your spirits sleep softly."

Before Tan Wu ended his own life, Fan Xian, still up in the tree, felt his heart stop for a moment. With his exceptional hearing capabilities, Fan Xian was able to overhear what Shen Zhong whispered to himself. Upon hearing this, he realized that Shen Zhong wasn't a simple man, either.

…

…

Everyone involved with the prison break died that night. Only the lonely carriage that had been used to transport Xiao En had the company of the Brocade Guard to encircle it. Everyone knew that the founder of the Brocade Guard, Xiao En, who was still inside, was far past his prime.

Without any indication, the carriage suddenly burst into flames.

The fire was fierce and the flames engulfed the entire cart. The horses were still tied to the carriage, but their mouths were banded and were unable to make a sound. All they could do was run, and so they did. But before they could get anywhere, the ringing of a drawn blade sounded once more, followed by several "thuds" - the legs of each horse was hewn off! Shortly after, lakes of blood encompassed the horse heads.

Shen Zhong watched the carriage burn, callously. His lack of emotion made it difficult to imagine what he was thinking. Vice-provost Xiao looked at him anxiously and said, "Sir, put the fire out! The Emperor does not want Xiao En dead!"

Shen Zhong, however, smiled and instead gestured with his hand for the men to not do that which was pleaded of them. He then signaled for the vice-provost to approach. After he did so, Shen Zhong whispered quietly to him, "But Empress Dowager wants Xiao En dead." The vice-provost's face dropped. Knowing that which he said was done impulsively and without thought, it was only then that he took notice of Shen Zhong's eyebrows. The farthest tip of the eyebrows gave off an uneasy aura. After seeing this, Shen Zhong began muttering to himself once more, saying: "Locked up all these years, unable to escape; perhaps death is the sweeter conclusion?"

As the flames continued to rage, smoke and ash clogged the air. The carriage was burnt completely, scenting the entire street with an awful smell.

After a while, though, the flames receded and petered out. Then the Brocade Guard's forensic pathologists arrived to examine the scene and its charred corpse. It was not long before they were able to state: "This is Xiao En!"

Shen Zhong nodded and asked: "Are the wounds upon his leg new?"

"Yes, we can deduce that they were inflicted within the previous two months."

"Teeth?"

"The records obtained from Wuduhe suggest they are indeed the same; three missing teeth."

Shen Zhong`s expression was one of perplexity. He found it difficult to believe that Xiao En had just died right then and there. He was confused as to how he should express himself. His faint smile was strange and indifferent.

In General Shang Shanhu`s manor in the southern part of Shangjing, the famous Shang Shanhu was speaking with his wife. On the table beside them was a list of gifts. In the courtyard, one could faintly hear a curious noise. The wife`s eyebrows raised in wonder and she said, "My dear, Empress Dowager`s birthday is soon; yet for the next few days, you will be unable to leave the capital. What are we to do?" At this time of the night, the manor was supposed to be silent, but even Shang Shanhu`s wife was having trouble falling asleep.

Shang Shanhu`s expression did not change. In a deep voice, he said, "Of course we are not leaving."

"And about the birthday gift…," his wife looked down.

"Of course we won`t prepare a gift, my dear. You should instead prepare your luggage."

In the midst of their conversation, the wife witnessed a large man suddenly run to the back of their living room. The wife recognized him as Shang Shanhu`s bodyguard. Strangely, however, it was midnight and he appeared to be uninvited. She shrugged it off as a figment of her imagination and became a little flustered. She looked at Shang Shanhu and with a trembling voice, asked, "Did you really do it?"

Shang Shanhu maintained total composure, save for his eyebrows, which suddenly lifted like large blades. In a deep voice, he said, "I am loyal to this land. It`s just that with the government, there are instances where we don't see eye to eye."

The wife did not speak again and instead quietly returned to the bedroom. She hadn't the motivation to resolve the situation with Empress Dowager`s birthday at this hour.

"Marshall, the number of saboteurs outside the manor is growing."

Only the people closest to Shang Shanhu were allowed call him Marshall, instead of General. The person who spoke was his closest bodyguard, who was once a nameless orphan. Many years ago, he was rescued from a snowy forest by Shang Shanhu. He raised the boy and even named him Shangshan Po. Their relationship was similar to that which Shang Shanhu shared with Xiao En, but the greatest discernible difference was that Shangshan Po looked up to Shang Shanhu with tremendous awe.

"Wait for more information." Shang Shanhu reclined in his chair, with a calm expression.

After this, Shangshan Po returned outside to continue his patrol.

…

…

A long while later, Shangshan Po returned to the back of the room. He kneeled before Shang Shanhu and said, "They failed." His voice possessed no trembling pitch, but it did not hide the sadness he was trying to conceal.

Shang Shanhu put his arm to the arm of his seat and froze. He closed his eyes with extreme force, and the wrinkles near his eyes bloomed like sunflowers. At that moment, you could discern the famous general's true age.

Shang Shanhu stood up and went to the bedroom. His wife, still restless, was sat upright at the side of the bed. He smiled and said, "It is very late. Why are you not yet asleep?"

His wife was visibly nervous, and had to force a smile upon her response, saying, "I cannot sleep."

Shang Shanhu, smiling, told her, "We are not leaving Shangjing, it would seem. Let us discuss the guest list for Empress Dowager's birthday."

It was in the early hours of the morning, by now; at the darkest time before the dawn. The mess in the courtyard following the battle had almost been cleaned up. The carriage that had been burnt to ash and the bodies of the deceased had already been removed by the professionals of the Discipline Commission. It wasn't long before the peace and tranquility returned to grace this place. In a kingdom as large as this, the ability to cover up and conceal the events that had transpired here was not a difficult task, however.

Those of the Brocade Guard who had sustained injuries were still on the ground, occasionally groaning in agony. The structural damage dealt from the explosion was still to be seen and the fatalities it had accumulated were many. Those who were lucky enough to survive the explosion were instead covered in blood and thick dust.

Whilst the injured were being delivered to the government office, the doctors were already pre-occupied with patients of their own. The queue of medical stretchers that had formed was not unlike a centipede, crawling forward ever so slowly.

Fan Xian, who was now precariously lying upon the thick branches and boughs of the tall tree, flexed the muscles in his legs and arms to prevent cramps and stiffness from settling in. He could not afford his reaction time being diminished at a time like this. He looked down upon the stretcher-bound wounded; they reminded him of when he watched Silence of the Lambs and The Professional in his past life. He breathed a sigh of relief, acknowledging that Xiao En, the old man, really did die in the fire and had not escaped.