39. Causing Hatred

The underground chamber was filled with the low murmur of voices and the flickering glow of lanterns. Around the long wooden table sat the four beggar leaders, their expressions ranging from amusement to cold calculation. Mo Tian sat at the head, fingers drumming against the worn surface as he surveyed them.

Mo Tian spoke first. "The war is progressing, but it's not enough. The Jian and Jing Families still have the resources to pull back. We need to ensure that doesn't happen."

The wiry beggar leader smirked, resting an elbow on the table. "We've already staged the sabotages, Lord Mo. Their supply convoys are suffering, and tensions are rising. What's next?"

Mo Tian's gaze swept over them before he answered. "Selling the stolen weapons."

A chuckle came from the round, rat-like beggar leader. "Selling stolen goods back to their enemies? I like it. But to whom?"

Mo Tian leaned forward. "We distribute them through the black market, but selectively. We make sure weapons stolen from the Jian Family end up in the hands of the Jing Family's hired mercenaries. And vice versa."

The scarred beggar leader frowned slightly. "Won't they recognize their own weapons?"

Mo Tian's lips curled in a knowing smile. "Not if we make minor modifications. Strip identifying marks, adjust the balance, change the hilts. When they clash in battle, both sides will unknowingly be killing each other with their own stolen weapons."

The room fell silent for a moment as the weight of the plan settled in. Then the cold-eyed, feminine-looking leader spoke. "And if they don't escalate fast enough?"

"That's where the poisons come in." Mo Tian's voice was calm, but his words were ruthless. "We have people in the streets, servants in their estates, contacts within their inner circles. A few well-placed 'accidents', a poisoned drink here, an illness there, and both sides will believe the other is resorting to underhanded methods."

The rat-like beggar leader's beady eyes gleamed. "We make sure each family believes the other is responsible?"

Mo Tian nodded. "Exactly. A poisoned Jian heir with 'evidence' pointing to the Jing Family's alchemists. A Jing elder falling mysteriously ill after meeting with a Jian informant. Carefully crafted rumors will ensure neither side doubts who the culprit is."

The scarred beggar leader grinned, pounding a fist into his palm. "They won't just fight in open battle anymore, they'll start assassinating each other."

"Which is precisely what we want," Mo Tian confirmed. "The more chaotic the battlefield, the deeper the hatred. By the time they realize they've been played, it will be too late to stop."

A brief silence followed, the leaders absorbing the sheer scale of the plan. Then the wiry beggar leader spoke again, his tone casual but with a glint of amusement.

"And what about the weapons we don't sell? What do we do with them?"

Mo Tian leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly before delivering his final command.

"We erase them." His voice was calm, but there was no room for negotiation. "We dump some into the warehouses of the Zheng family and take some of theirs, melt others down, and stash a few in hidden locations for future use. The moment someone starts investigating, we ensure there's nothing left to find."

The cold-eyed leader nodded slightly. "Clean and thorough."

The rat-like beggar leader snickered. "And by the time they realize they've been tricked, there won't be a way to turn back."

The scarred beggar leader laughed "Hah! We also save some on our arms deal with the Jian Family. "

Mo Tian's eyes glowed with satisfaction. The war was no longer a simple clash of two powerful families, it was a carefully orchestrated descent into chaos, one that he controlled from the shadows.

Now, all that was left was to sit back and watch the blood flow.

…

The moon hung low in the night sky, its silver light barely piercing through the thick canopy of trees. A cold wind swept through the dense forest, rustling the leaves as shadows moved in perfect silence. Hidden among the undergrowth, Mo Tian crouched, his sharp eyes fixed on the dirt road below.

A long convoy of wooden wagons rumbled through the narrow path, their iron-bound wheels creaking under the weight of their cargo. Lanterns swung from the wagons, casting a dim glow over the armed guards escorting the shipment. The Jing Family insignia was emblazoned on their armor, proud warriors, oblivious to the doom lurking in the darkness.

Mo Tian's voice was a whisper, yet it carried weight. "Wait for my signal."

The beggars, dressed in tattered cloaks and rags, moved into position. Despite their appearances, they were anything but ordinary vagrants. Each one held a weapon stolen, bought, or looted from past kills. The wiry beggar leader crouched beside Mo Tian, a wicked grin playing on his lips. "They're walking right into our hands."

Mo Tian's gaze never wavered. "Patience. We take them in one sweep, no survivors."

The lead wagon rolled past the marked tree, Mo Tian's signal. His fingers flicked forward.

In an instant, the forest came alive.

A thick rope, concealed beneath fallen leaves, snapped upward, tangling around the front wheels of the lead wagon. The driver barely had time to shout before the horses reared, throwing him from his seat. The wagon lurched, tipping onto its side with a deafening crash.

The Jing guards barely had time to react before the beggars descended upon them like wolves.

Mo Tian moved first, launching from his hiding spot like a phantom. His twin blades gleamed under the moonlight as he cut down the first guard with a precise slash to the throat. Before the second guard could raise his weapon, Mo Tian spun, driving his blade deep into the man's chest. Blood sprayed onto the dirt road, and the body crumpled.

The ambush was chaos incarnate.

The wiry beggar leader lunged at a Jing soldier, his curved dagger flashing as he slipped past a clumsy sword swing and buried his weapon into the man's ribs. Another beggar leapt onto the back of a guard, driving a rusted short sword into the base of his neck.

Mo Tian's movements were fluid, efficient, every strike precise, every motion a step toward death. A Jing officer, taller and broader than the others, rushed him with a halberd, his expression furious. Mo Tian sidestepped, his blade flashing. A clean cut to the tendons of the man's wrist sent the weapon clattering to the ground. Before the officer could react, Mo Tian's other sword found his throat.

The officer's body slumped, eyes wide with shock.

By now, the remaining Jing guards had realized the scale of the ambush. Some tried to flee, only to be caught by waiting beggars who cut them down before they could reach the tree line. Others fought desperately, but they were outnumbered, outmaneuvered.

In less than five minutes, the road was littered with corpses.

Mo Tian wiped his blade clean on a dead man's cloak before turning to the remaining beggars. "Search the wagons. Take the weapons, leave nothing useful behind."

The scarred beggar leader wiped blood from his face and chuckled. "And the bodies?"

Mo Tian's expression remained cold. "Pile them onto one of the wagons. Set it on fire and send it rolling back toward the Jing Family's territory."

The cold-eyed beggar leader smirked. "A message?"

Mo Tian's gaze flickered in the firelight. "No. A warning."

As the flames engulfed the bloodstained wagon, crackling against the night, Mo Tian watched in silence.

The war had just slowed down, but the bloodshed was far from over.

---

(2 Months Later, Somewhere in the Slums outside Golden Prosperity City)

The underground chamber was dimly lit, the scent of damp stone mixing with the faint aroma of burning incense. The beggar leaders sat around the table, their faces shadowed by flickering lanterns. The atmosphere was tense. There was an edge to the air that hadn't been there in previous meetings.

Mo Tian sat at the head, fingers tapping rhythmically against the old wood. A single sheet of parchment lay before him, a report brought in just moments ago. His gaze swept over the gathered men, sharp and cold.

"The war is moving too fast," he said finally, his voice low but commanding.

The wiry beggar leader leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. "We did everything as planned. The sabotage, the poisonings, the misinformation. We pointed everything toward a slow, grinding war."

"And yet," Mo Tian tapped the parchment, "the Jing and Zheng Families are already marching on the Jian Family in full force. This is not a war of attrition, it's an extermination."

The scarred beggar leader frowned. "Something must have changed. We should have had at least another six months before a large-scale battle."

The cold-eyed leader, his feminine features unreadable, tapped a finger against the table. "Perhaps the Jian Family did something unexpected."

Mo Tian's eyes narrowed. "No. This isn't a desperate counterattack. This is a planned invasion. Someone is pushing this war forward, and I don't like it."

The rat-like beggar leader chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "If things are moving too fast, why not let it happen? The Jian Family's destruction will only benefit us."

Mo Tian's gaze snapped to him, icy and dangerous. "No. If the Jian Family falls too soon, the Zheng and Jing Families will consolidate their power. If they realize they've been manipulated, they'll adjust their tactics, possibly uniting against an external threat."

The rat-faced leader's smirk faded. "Then what do you propose?"

Mo Tian leaned forward, eyes gleaming with dark intent. "We slow them down. We make sure this battle is not a swift execution but a drawn-out struggle. The Jian Family needs to last long enough to bleed both the Zheng and Jing Families dry."

The scarred leader crossed his arms. "How? The Jian Family is already being crushed. We'd have to actively intervene."

A cold smile tugged at Mo Tian's lips. "Exactly."

The room fell silent for a moment before the wiry beggar leader chuckled. "You want to help the Jian Family?"

"I want to make sure they don't fall too quickly," Mo Tian corrected. "A dying beast fights the hardest. We supply them with just enough to resist, secret weapon shipments, mercenary reinforcements, false intelligence that gives them brief advantages. We make it seem like they still have a chance."

The cold-eyed leader nodded. "And when the Zheng and Jing Families realize the Jian Family won't collapse as easily as expected?"

"They'll become desperate. Their soldiers will lose morale. Their commanders will start making mistakes. And when they do, we ensure those mistakes are fatal." Mo Tian's voice was smooth, confident, like a predator setting the perfect trap.

The scarred leader let out a low whistle. "You want to extend the war to its breaking point. Until they're all too weak to recover."

Mo Tian nodded. "Exactly."

The rat-faced leader rubbed his chin. "And how do we get the supplies to the Jian Family without being discovered?"

Mo Tian smirked. "We do it the same way we've been selling them weapons. Through intermediaries. The Jian Family doesn't even need to know we're behind it."

The cold-eyed leader leaned back, his expression unreadable. "And if the Jian Family still collapses despite our interference?"

"Then we make sure they take as many Zheng and Jing soldiers with them as possible." Mo Tian's voice was cold, final.

The room was silent once more. Then, one by one, the beggar leaders nodded.

The war had started too soon, but Mo Tian was not about to let it slip out of his control.

This was no longer just a conflict between noble families.

It was a game of death, and Mo Tian intended to play until the very last piece was left standing.