Chapter Thirty-Six: Awakening

In just a few days, the news that Emperor Xia Xun had been assassinated in the imperial palace spread like wildfire throughout Wangmai. Although the Xia Kingdom tried to suppress the truth, claiming he had died of illness or some other excuse, somehow the tale of assassination escaped containment and soon all of Wangmai knew. With the secret out, the Xia Kingdom abandoned any further attempt at concealment and announced there had been two assassins: one who fought with twin blades, and the other a swordsman.

As soon as this news reached the Snow Kingdom, those who had participated in the decisive battle at Luoshui, as well as court officials privy to the details, immediately suspected the vanished Yue Zhe and Jiang Zhongqing. Yet at this time, Jiang Zhongqing, whereabouts unknown, remained oblivious, and the Snow Kingdom saw no need to inform the Xia Kingdom of their suspicions.

It was another who bore the brunt of this misfortune.

“A pitfall! A trap worthy of its name!” came the thunderous shout echoing from the Ye residence the moment the news arrived.

Yue Yuncheng was almost certain it was Yue Zhe’s doing. He knew his son’s temperament, was aware of Emperor Xia’s collusion with traitors, but his son’s reputation hadn’t yet been established—whereas “Dragon-Phoenix Blade” Yue Yuncheng was famed across Wangmai.

Meng Huaicheng tried to comfort him, saying that there were surely many in the Xia army who had personally witnessed Yue Zhe’s skill and his use of twin blades, so suspicion needn’t necessarily fall on Yue Yuncheng. But Yue Yuncheng only became more bitter: “What’s the difference between suspecting Yue Zhe and suspecting me? If they can’t find him, won’t they just come for me?!”

So, not even an hour after the news broke, Yue Yuncheng quietly left Shunxing City with his wife and vanished without a trace.

In a city near the capital of Xia, Yue Zhe slowly set down his teacup, a subtle expression flickering across his face as he mused to himself, “It was easy enough to spread word that Xia Xun died by assassination, but I hadn’t expected those useless fools in the palace to release our descriptions. Now I’ve not only implicated Jiang Zhongqing, but my own father as well. Damn it, I never saw this coming…”

Indeed, it was Yue Zhe himself who had leaked the news of the assassination. Yet after hiding away his twin blades and idly passing a couple of days, he only then realized he might have ensnared his father too.

“Well, I don’t believe they’ll be able to catch my father. As for Jiang Zhongqing… I barely know the guy, but judging by his skills, he should be fine…” With that, Yue Zhe slipped away from the city without a word, humming a tune. A few days later, he arrived in some remote, nameless village in Wangmai, intending to disappear from the world.

It was only after his situation settled that he suddenly exclaimed, “Damn it! I forgot my blades are buried under that tree outside the city!” After a moment’s frustration, it struck him: ever since he first took up the blade, he’d never let his twin weapons leave his side, not even for eating or sleeping—yet now, he had gone days without them and hadn’t even noticed.

At this, Yue Zhe laughed freely. “Perhaps, after all this, my heart no longer wishes to draw the blades. To retire before I ever set foot in the martial world—who else under heaven can claim such a thing?”

A country cannot go a single day without a sovereign. With Emperor Xia gone, the three princes of Xia offered token mourning before each set about their own schemes.

Xia Xun had only just passed middle age and, by his own reckoning, could have ruled for another five centuries. There was no hurry to name a crown prince. Each of the three princes had their own claims: the eldest, Xia Yunge, and the second, Xia Wuyu, were both born of concubines; only the youngest, Xia Mingqian, was of the empress. By the logic of imperial succession—legitimacy, seniority, and virtue—it should have been the youngest and most favored, Xia Mingqian, who was named heir. But the two older princes were already deeply involved in court affairs, and Xia Xun had never decided whom to choose.

He preferred to let the three contend and crown the victor. The eldest and second princes had age and political footing, while the youngest had legitimacy and the emperor’s affection. In truth, the contest was fair—a battle of abilities.

And so, the Xia Kingdom found itself without a crown prince.

Yet when the legitimate heir, Xia Mingqian, wished to prove himself, he discovered that all his supposed advantages—lineage and imperial favor—meant nothing now that his father was dead. In the end, while his two elder brothers were still plotting their moves, Xia Mingqian quietly left Starlight City with his trusted aides and, in fact, departed the Xia Kingdom altogether.

With the youngest brother missing, Xia Yunge deemed himself the rightful successor and immediately summoned the ministers to discuss his ascension. When some objected that it was too hasty, Xia Yunge retorted, “Would you have our kingdom without an emperor? If not me, then whom—one of you?” The argument was unanswerable.

Xia Wuyu, watching all this unfold, fumed inwardly. On principle, Xia Yunge was right; there was no grounds for objection. Thus, in the great hall, Xia Wuyu could only watch as Xia Yunge flaunted his triumph, and, in anger, swept his sleeves and departed.

But in his haste to claim the throne, Xia Yunge overlooked something critical.

Xia Wuyu’s mother was the daughter of Duan Yaoqi.

At such a time, though Duan Yaoqi was loyal to the royal house, with no legitimate prince left he had no reason not to support his own grandson.

Thus, before the court, as Xia Wuyu hurried home to consult with his grandfather, they resolved that Duan Yaoqi would publicly declare his support for Xia Wuyu the next day. But before that could happen, word arrived from the court: the following day was deemed an auspicious date, and Xia Yunge would ascend the throne.

Previously, Emperor Xia had been wary of Duan Yaoqi consolidating too much military power. Though Duan was the nation’s Grand Marshal, he was denied command of the standing army in Starlight City and held only limited forces outside it. Even so, the troops he did command gave him authority over more than a third of the kingdom’s counties.

On the day Xia Yunge ascended the throne, Xia Wuyu disappeared. Xia Yunge made no effort to find him and smoothly completed the coronation, becoming the new Emperor of Xia, taking the reign title “Chengtian.”

Yet only seven days after Xia Yunge’s ascension, the seven prefectures and hundred counties of the eastern Xia Kingdom rose in revolt, declaring the emperor to be Xia Wuyu, taking the reign title “Tenglong.”

With that, the Xia Kingdom was plunged into chaos. The matter of avenging the late emperor, which should have taken priority, was abandoned as the two emperors squared off, each seeking advantage.

Upon hearing of the upheaval in Xia, Zi Ying, too, watched from across the border, wondering if she should strike while the dogs fought. Yet, looking back at her own country, she sighed deeply. Her master, brother, and junior were all dead or lost; besides herself and the one-dimensional Feng Jing, the Snow Kingdom, for all its valiant warriors, had no one fit to command an army.

…

Northern Yandi, Tengyue Pass.

North of Tengyue Pass lay the road leading into Wangmai, revealed at times of crimson mist. Now, the Yan tribe’s troops trudged home, their spirits crushed.

This campaign had been an awkward one for the Yan. The tribe was suffering a generational gap: the middle-aged were all bound by ancestral duties and could not leave, while the young lacked experience, having never faced a true war.

With no other choice, the Yan sent their brightest young talents to the front: the three Lin brothers, Feng Xiaoyang, and Wan Zheng.

None of these five returned alive.

Wan Zheng fell in the first clash with the Snow Wraith King, cut down in a surprise attack. Lin Yuluo died at Feng Jing’s hand; Feng Xiaoyang was felled by Feng Shuichen’s arrow while fleeing the battlefield; the brothers Lin Yukong and Lin Yufei were both slain by Ye Pei. Of the five, only Lin Yufei’s body was returned intact.

The deaths of these five were a grievous blow to the Lin, Feng, and Wan clans. Especially for the Wan—Wan Zheng’s death left them with no male heir in this generation.

As the three great clans mourned, another piece of news arrived with the army: after killing Lin Yufei, Ye Pei had fallen with him into the Demonic Gate Ravine, and did not appear with the Yan troops at Tengyue Pass.

Almost at once, the three clans issued the same order throughout their territories: hunt down Ye Pei, alive if possible, dead if not.

Unfortunately, Ye Pei was no longer within any of their domains.

As the Yan army reached Tengyue Pass, far to the east in Longjiang Mountain, Ye Pei, spitting blood, plummeted from the sky and lay unconscious on the grass.

Elsewhere, in the most mysterious corner of the Yan lands, a young man of fifteen or sixteen, handsome and clad in black robes, was playing with a striped tiger.

Suddenly, the youth burst out laughing, startling the tiger. “At last! I, Ni Manxiu, have been waiting for you!”

“Oh, come off it,” said the tiger, speaking in human tongue. “We’ve only been here in Yan territory for a little over a year.”

Ni Manxiu grinned. “You talk too much! Ah, the chosen one has finally arrived! But…” He trailed off.

The tiger, annoyed, snapped, “That habit of yours is infuriating.”

Ni Manxiu laughed heartily. “But to me, this so-called chosen one is nothing more than a cursed soul. Come on, let’s go see him!”

…

When Ye Pei regained consciousness, he did not open his eyes at once, but first assessed his injuries. He gave a wry smile.

“No serious wounds, but these internal injuries…”

Physically, there was nothing fatal—just a few scrapes from the battle—but within, his dantian held only a trace of true energy, barely enough to notice.

“Wait…” Ye Pei realized something else. “Is this Yan territory?”

He hurriedly opened his eyes. Despite his grave injuries, his fighting spirit remained undiminished. The killing aura he’d yet to shed from the battlefield flooded the empty hut.

Surveying his surroundings, Ye Pei sighed. “A civilian home… I thought I’d been captured by the Yan. So am I in Wangmai or Yan?”

As he pondered, he tried to suppress his murderous intent, not wanting to alarm anyone. Suddenly, the crash of broken porcelain sounded outside.

Ye Pei quickly composed himself. The door swung open, and in stepped a young woman of surpassing beauty.

“You’re awake,” she said.

“Thank you for saving me, miss…” Ye Pei began, and tried to sit up, only to find his body too weak to support him.

“Don’t move!” The girl rushed over to steady him and tucked the bedding around him. “You’ve been unconscious for nearly four days since I brought you back. I couldn’t feed you solid food, so I gave you some milk. But just now, at the door, I somehow got startled and dropped the bowl…”

Ye Pei realized it was his own killing aura that had frightened her. “I’m sorry, I—”

Before he could finish, the girl cut him off with a smile. “Sorry? You should be thanking me!”

She paused, then looked at him and said, “My name is Zi Qingrong.”