Outside the cordon formed by the Tengxiang Guard, Su Yan looked on in awe at Yu Wang’s battle with the Seven Kills Camp leader. On the one hand he sighed in admiration—was this not the very pinnacle of ancient martial arts?—on the other, he could not help but worry, breaking into cold sweats whenever the fight turned perilous for Yu Wang.
After over a hundred exchanges, the Camp Leader grew restless—he was not yet losing, but no man’s stamina was endless. If it dragged on, never mind who would outplay whom, the Tengxiang Guard’s sheer numbers alone could wear him down.
He had to break free quickly.
Catching sight of Su Yan at the rear of the crowd, the Camp leader conceived a plan. Channeling his inner force, he locked the right hook around the tip blade of the spear, while suddenly letting the left hook fly from his hand, spinning straight toward Su Yan.
The strike’s power was tremendous. The hook blade plunged like a crescent moon crashing from the heavens, trailing a howling gale that blew men to either side.
Yu Wang knew that none of the Tengxiang Guard beside Su Yan could block it. His face changed, and he shouted, “Down!”
At the same time, he shook the spear shaft with such fierce wrist strength that the tip vibrated at high frequency, breaking free of the Soul-Breaking Hook’s clamp. Then he hurled the spear straight toward Su Yan.
Su Yan saw both weapons flying toward him, and he knew if he didn’t dodge, he would die. But his body could not react as fast as his mind, when fortunately a quick-eyed guard beside him gave a violent pull, dragging him aside.
The long spear caught up with the flying hook, sparks bursting as fine steel clashed. Both weapons deflected, passing just by Su Yan.
With death brushing by, his taut nerves suddenly slackened. Cold sweat drenched him, his legs turned weak.
Yu Wang darted toward him, asking urgently: “You’re unharmed?”
The Camp Leader had only feinted to the east in order to strike west. This was the moment he had awaited. He pushed his qinggong skill to the utmost, breaking through the encirclement.
“—Stop him!” Su Yan shouted, his voice hoarse from the surge and crash of adrenaline.
Archers and gunners loosed volleys at the fleeing man. But firearms of this era, compared to later times, were short-ranged, weak in power, and poor in accuracy. The leader’s figure flitted like a ghost, dodging dozens of stray shots. Even when an arrow flew true, he deflected it with his Soul-Breaking Hooks.
After one volley, the firearms needed reloading. Taking the chance, the Camp Leader slew several marksmen in his path and pressed toward the mansion walls.
Grinding his teeth, unwilling, Su Yan snatched a musket from a fallen guard commander at his side. Still sitting half-collapsed on the ground, he leveled it at the fleeing back.
Yu Wang flashed to his side. Seeing him unharmed, he turned instead to retrieve his spear lodged in the ground, while warning: “That’s a rare Chidian Gun—without special training you can’t handle it. You’ll blow your own face off. Don’t touch it!”
But Su Yan knew. In his past life, he had studied such things on military forums: this weapon didn’t use the matchlock ignition, but the more advanced flintlock. Besides the main barrel, it carried six auxiliary chambers. One was already pre-loaded—it could be fired directly.
The Chedian gun had greater accuracy than ordinary matchlocks, and because its ammunition (sub-guns) was loaded from the rear, its rate of fire was also faster. But this primitive breech-loading firearm had one major flaw—it leaked gas.
This “leaking gas” was not something as simple as a balloon deflating. When gunpowder ignited, the escaping gases could blast open the hinged breechblock, blowing the shooter’s face into a bloody mess.
Even up until the 19th century when the revolver appeared, this flaw in airtightness still could not be solved. If a careless revolver shooter placed his hand across the gap between the cylinder and the barrel, the escaping gas could slice a finger clean in two!
Later, in an effort to fix the problem of breech cannon leakage, the German Siemens tried to design various gun breeches, but failed every time. In his final experiment, the blast left him deaf in one ear. Helpless, he gave up and turned instead to the study of electricity—eventually founding Siemens.
—Of course, all this trivia from his previous life only flashed through Su Yan’s mind in passing. He carefully kept his face away from the breechblock area, relying on the muscle memory he had honed in countless CS paintball games in his past life. Using the front sight and rear notch of the barrel, after a short breath-hold aim, he decisively fired the round already loaded in the sub-gun.
A thunderous bang! Flames burst out, the acrid stench of gunpowder choked the air.
What was harder to bear was the recoil—six feet of barrel, five catties in weight—the kickback nearly wrenched his wrist out of its socket!
Su Yan dropped the gun with a cry, clutching his searing wrist bone in pain.
That single cry yanked Yu Wang, who had already leapt ahead, back to him. Yu Wang spun around, tense and worried: “You didn’t blow yourself up, did you? I told you not to touch it, didn’t I?!”
As the pain ebbed, Su Yan forced a smile and raised his brows: “I hit him.”
Yu Wang, stunned, turned to look—only to see a figure in crimson robes rolling across the rooftop before tumbling off the eaves.
Yu Wang: “…”
Yu Wang: “During Dragon Boat you couldn’t even shoot an arrow straight. How long has it been, and now you can fire a gun? Feels more like a blind cat bumping into a dead rat.”
Su Yan: “Heh.”
That “heh” carried a world of meaning, but Yu Wang had no time to parse it. He vaulted toward the fallen Camp Leader to check his state.
The man was still alive, though the gunpowder and shot had torn his lower back into a sieve. For a martial artist with profound inner strength, it wasn’t a fatal wound, but his damaged spine meant escape by qinggong skill was impossible.
Wracked with pain yet unwilling to yield, he crawled forward, reaching for the Soulbreaking Hook lying nearby.
Yu Wang stamped down on his mangled lower back, sneering: “A trapped beast at the end of its road—will you not yield?”
Knowing he could not escape, the Camp Leader’s voice rasped from behind the mask, hoarse and eerie as a night-owl: “Aside from a pile of rotten flesh, you’ll get nothing from me!”
Yu Wang thought he meant to take poison, so he seized the man’s throat, ready to force out whatever he tried to swallow.
But instead, the man slapped a palm over his own face. With a burst of inner force, mask and facial bones shattered together under his grip!
The ceaseless crunch of breaking bones was hair-raising. Yu Wang instantly dislocated both his hands, but too late to stop it—the bronze mask and flesh, bone, even brain matter mashed into an unrecognizable ruin.
Catching up from behind, Su Yan sucked in a sharp breath at the sight.
Yu Wang rose, shielding the twitching, dying body with his own. His voice was heavy: “He won’t live.”
A thick knot of suffocating air clogged Su Yan’s throat before he forced it out. His face was dark. “He destroyed his own face so we couldn’t trace him. Looks like this Seven Kills Camp Leader was a death soldier too. Just don’t know if his loyalty was to Mister He, or someone else.”
—
At this moment, Mister He sat inside an ordinary carriage, about to leave the capital.
A female disciple attended at his side, wiping his hands and face with clear water.
“Master,” she couldn’t help but ask, “are we not waiting for the Camp Leader?”
Mister He slowly opened his eyes, expression calm: “I told him before there would be someone to meet us, but he didn’t believe. Had he trusted me, gone with me into the secret chamber and boarded the prison cart together, by now he would be sitting here, riding out of the capital.”
“Then what of him now? Shall we return to aid him?” she asked softly.
Mister He smiled: “Kind words cannot save a ghost destined to die. He chose his own death—what is it to me? Besides, he was only a chess piece, sent both to work with me and to watch me. Whether one piece lives or dies means little. I expect it won’t be long before another will be sent to meet me. I only hope the next will be easier to deal with.”
The disciple nodded in confusion: “Master is wise. We obey only your command.”
Mister He lifted the curtain, gazing at the city gate drawing near. Below, two night guards stood ready, prepared to give everything for their fervent faith.
“In the end, I still lost—lost to a greenhorn youth.” Mister He sighed lightly. “The capital can no longer shelter our sect. Yet the world is vast, and this grand game, with rivers and mountains as the board and factions as the stars, is far from reaching its endgame.”
“Su Yan—next round, we’ll decide again who wins and who loses.”
—
After ordering guards to deal with the Camp Leader’s corpse, Yu Wang and Su Yan walked down a corridor, away from the stench of blood. Yu Wang drew him into an embrace, pressing Su Yan’s cheek against his chest, rubbing his bristled jaw against his face.
Before Su Yan could react and protest, Yu Wang quickly let go, patting his back: “Don’t be too disheartened. The Seven Kills Camp leader may be dead, but Mister He is in our hands. With both witnesses and evidence, none who should face justice will escape.”
Su Yan nodded. “Take the Camp Leader’s body and head to the Northern Surveillance Bureau. Let’s see what we can pry out of Mister He, then report to His Majesty in the palace.”
Yu Wang added: “Also, leave some of the Tengxiang Guard at both marquis households. Seal off the Wei residence, in case Marquis Xianan or the rest, driven to desperation, try barking in court—or worse, disturb my Royal Mother in Cining Palace. No matter his ties to the royal house, this malignant tumor must be cut away. If Royal Mother doesn’t see it, I’ll make her.”
Su Yan cast him a grateful look. “Much obliged, Wangye.”
Yu Wang fixed his gaze on him. “So you still refuse to call me ‘Jincheng’?”
Under that burning look, Su Yan grew a little uneasy. He averted his eyes, his voice unconsciously softening: “A prince’s given name—this official must not address it directly.”
Yu Wang pressed closer, nearly trapping him between the corridor pillar and his own chest. That deep, rich voice sounded right beside his ear: “I don’t care about taboos. I just want to hear you call me ‘Jincheng.’ Come on, just once—just once.”
Su Yan’s heartbeat quickened, caught between nerves, panic, and something more tangled, choking his breath. He opened his mouth, faltered, then awkwardly muttered, “I… I can’t say it.”
Yu Wang’s eyes darkened further. His tall figure, wrapped in black, leaned in with inescapable pressure—at once domineering, encompassing, and laced with seduction—until Su Yan felt almost dizzy.
“It’s really… not proper…” he stammered, his back pressed so hard against the cold pillar he wished he could sink into it.
Yu Wang exhaled lightly across his lashes. “If you won’t call me ‘Jincheng,’ then call me ‘Ah Cong.’”
“A… Scallion*?” The words jolted through Su Yan’s body like an electric shock, leaving him numb all over. For a split second he was dragged back into the terror of being overwhelmed by that beast’s pheromones—wanting to resist, yet his limbs weak, clinging desperately to reason, warning himself not to fall into Yu Wang’s snare.
* pronounced as cong
“It’s my childhood name. Other than my Royal father and Royal Mother when I was small, no one has ever called me that. Now I want to hear it from you.”
Too shameful! Never mind ‘Ah Cong’—I wouldn’t even say ‘Ah Ginger’ or ‘Ah Garlic.’ Su Yan shook his head furiously, the tips of his ears burning red. Futilely, he pushed against Yu Wang’s immovable frame. “Your Highness, let go. So many people are watching… You may not care about your face, but I still need mine!”
Yu Wang said, “Be good. Call me once, and I’ll let you go.”
Compared to the absurd “Ah Cong,” “Jincheng” suddenly didn’t seem so unbearable. Resigned, Su Yan muttered softly, “Jin…cheng.”
Yu Wang chuckled, pure delight in his tone. “Good boy. Even if my heart and liver were carved out, they couldn’t take away the bone within my bone, the flesh within my flesh.”
Su Yan shuddered with gooseflesh, struggling harder. “What vulgar nonsense—let go!”
Yu Wang released him, schooling his features into seriousness. “They’ve almost finished cleaning up. Let’s set out now, so we can nail this matter down before tomorrow’s court.”
Su Yan’s face was still flushed. He bowed his head to fuss with his sleeves as cover, muttering: “I’ll ride my horse, you take your carriage—don’t crowd me.”
Yu Wang laughed. “I won’t ride in a carriage either. I’ll ride alongside you. We’ll go side by side, how about it?”
As he spoke, a figure hurried over, calling loudly from several zhang away: “Lord Su! Your Highness Yu Wang!”
Su Yan turned his head. It was Gao Shuo. He beckoned him closer. “You’re still injured—why not rest? What’s the matter?”
Gao Shuo’s face was dark. “Something’s happened to the Embroidered Uniform Guard escorting the prison cart. The prisoner inside was snatched!”
Su Yan exclaimed, “Mister He escaped? And what of Qilang—was he hurt?”
Gao Shuo replied, “Lord Shen is unharmed. He was leading the forward guard, nearly at the Northern Surveillance Bureau. When he noticed Shi Qianhu and the others had not arrived, he turned back with his men to look. In a small alley they found all the Embroidered Uniform Guard knocked out, including Shi Qianhu himself. Only after being doused with cold water did they wake.”
Su Yan asked, “What did Shi Qianhu say?”
“He said he only noticed a faint fragrance. Since both sides of the alley were lined with flowering trees, he didn’t think much of it—and before he realized, he was unconscious.”
“And the prison cart? What condition?”
“The iron lock bore many blade marks. Clearly the raiders were numerous. Lord Shen suspects remnants of the Void Sect came to rescue their master. He immediately ordered the city gates kept shut until the culprits are caught, to prevent the imperial criminal from escaping.”
“Should we impose a citywide search?”
Gao Shuo shook his head. “The city gates fall under the Five-City Troops, answerable to the Ministry of War. Without an imperial decree, an Embroidered Uniform Guard order alone won’t move them. Even if they comply, by the time it’s carried out, it’ll be too late.”
Su Yan frowned, thinking aloud: “The Void Sect has long lurked in the shadows with countless followers. A prison break isn’t so surprising. But for them to arrive with such timing—Mister He must have laid the groundwork earlier. Truly, every move calculated three steps ahead… difficult to deal with indeed. If he gets out of the capital, the skies are wide and seas vast—catching him again will be no easy task.”
Gao Shuo nodded silently.
Yu Wang clapped Su Yan’s shoulder. “He’s a defeated foe—what’s there to fear? Issue wanted orders across the provinces. If he’s caught once, he can be caught again. No need to fret too much.”
Su Yan sighed. “It’s Qilang I worry for. The prisoner escaped under Embroidered Uniform Guard custody—he, as chief officer, will likely be held responsible.”
Yu Wang inwardly wished Shen Qi would be punished, even exiled to the miasma-ridden south to feed mosquitoes and never return. Outwardly, however, he remained the picture of fairness: “He has merit in the capture, and fault in the lapse. Merits and demerits balance out. With my imperial brother’s temperament, at most he’ll be scolded a few times—no reward, but no punishment either.”
Su Yan eased a little. He asked Gao Shuo, “Where is Qilang now? I’ll meet him before entering the palace. His Majesty is surely waiting for my report, likely sleepless all night.”
Gao Shuo said, “Lord Shen went to negotiate with the city troops, hasn’t returned yet. But he left word for Lord Su to proceed as you see fit—no need to wait for him.”
Su Yan nodded. “By custom, the city gates open with the morning bell. I’ll try to obtain an imperial decree from His Majesty, to seal the city before that.”
He thought for a moment, then added with a bitter smile: “Though the chance is slim. A citywide search causes chaos among the people, like fishing for grains in the sea—uncertain at best. And with commerce between city and countryside, even if we seal the gates, it won’t last long.”
Yu Wang said, “Your caution is justified. Perhaps before the gates even open at dawn, that bird of a Mister He will already have flown. Think—a man who plans three steps ahead, would he really be stopped by a city gate?”
Su Yan thought it over and over, but there was no way around it. He simply set it aside for now and said:
“I’ll enter the palace at once—bring down the Wei family first, then talk of other matters. Mister He and the Seven-Kill Camp Leader were both found hidden within the Marquis’ residence, inside a secret chamber reserved for the master of the house. No matter how they try to deny it, they can hardly escape involvement. What’s more, Noble Consort Wei—”
He suddenly cut himself off and said no more.
Yu Wang inclined his head: “I’ll enter the palace with you.”
