Following Nalan Xuan’s gaze toward the mountain range to the northeast, they could see the snow line that remained unmoving even in summer. The road stretching beneath their feet was just as it had been throughout the journey, deliberately cleared and swept like a silent invitation.
“Since they have invited this prince with such sincerity, continuing to hesitate would only make me appear discourteous.” Nalan Xuan was already preparing to enter the mountains alone when Hu’erhan abruptly stepped in front of him and blocked the way.
“Your Highness, please reconsider. Going in there—”
The bandits’ purpose could not have been clearer: they wanted a prince of the realm to lower himself and marry into their stronghold as their chief’s bride. Such a thing would be an enormous humiliation even for an ordinary household, much less a prince who held immense power and stood incomparably higher than common men in both rank and status. And if that insulting proposition was merely a pretext, then whatever true purpose lay behind it was even more alarming. The bandits had concealed their intentions beneath mockery of the prince, and without complete confidence in the situation, Hu’erhan and the others did not dare act rashly.
Yet Nalan Xuan himself, the person directly concerned, remained completely relaxed. He behaved as though he understood the enemy perfectly. He had been calm throughout the entire journey, and even now, with his reputation involved, he remained utterly fearless, as though he were strolling through his own backyard to meet an old friend.
“General Tuxun, take every commander from the Dihua garrison and wait at the foot of the mountain. Seal every route leading up and down. No one is to enter or leave—not even a fly. I want the entire mountain surrounded without the slightest gap.”
“This subordinate general obeys.” Tuxun did not understand why a small group of wandering bandits required the entire force of one hundred and fifty thousand garrison troops from Dihua and the surrounding cities to encircle a single small mountain. But military orders were absolute, and obedience was a soldier’s duty. Within Nalan Xuan’s fief, a single word from Prince Nanyang carried almost the same force as an imperial decree. He held both military and civil authority, so however many doubts Tuxun had, he could only accept the command and carry it out.
“General Hu’erhan, select thirty elite soldiers and accompany this prince up the mountain. Remain ready for orders at all times.”
“This subordinate general obeys.” The answering voices rang out in unison across the empty official road.
A calculating smile of satisfaction appeared on Nalan Xuan’s face. His gaze turned vicious as he looked toward the small peak in the distance, where the mountain road wound upward. He murmured to himself, “Since such a fine gift has delivered itself straight to my door, this prince will make certain you never leave.”
Their progress was completely unobstructed. Although officials and bandits were natural enemies, they encountered not the slightest resistance along the way, as though every gate had been thrown open and they had been expected for a long time. Even when they reached the stronghold, its gates already stood wide open, with no one visible anywhere above or below. Cold sweat ran down the backs of Hu’erhan and the thirty elite soldiers, but Nalan Xuan only seemed more certain of whatever conclusion he had reached. Though he had entered the heart of the tiger’s den, his face carried nothing but satisfaction and ruthlessness.
Outside the great hall, Nalan Xuan left them with a quiet instruction that almost sounded casual—“Subdue everyone immediately”—then pushed open the doors.
Hu’erhan truly deserved his reputation as a battle-hardened general, and the thirty soldiers who had accompanied him were equally worthy of being called elite troops chosen from thousands. The doors had opened only enough for one person to squeeze through when everyone shot inside with lightning speed. Before they had even fully entered the hall, the ringing clash of weapons was already continuous.
As the doors slowly opened wider, everything within the hall came clearly into view. There were far fewer bandits than expected. Counting carefully amid the fighting, there were only seven. With nearly five times their numbers, Nalan Xuan did not know whether he should lament that his victory would be dishonorable or simply sigh over how badly the other side had underestimated him. Yet none of that mattered. At this moment, only one figure remained in Nalan Xuan’s sight: seated upright upon the elevated seat at the far end of the long hall, a pair of calm eyes concealed behind a mask.
A faint smile that was not quite a smile rested upon Nalan Xuan’s lips. With one hand behind his back, he walked forward calmly and unhurriedly, passing straight between the flashes of blades and swords on either side. He met the pair of eyes looking down at him from above without the slightest trace of fear. If anything, there was something almost pitying in his gaze.
“Since you’ve already come all this way, why bother hiding yourself and going through all these pointless twists and turns, Eighth Prince?” Nalan Xuan gave a cold snort, showing no alarm whatsoever. Infiltrating enemy territory and coordinating from inside and outside was something Nalan Xuan could think of, and naturally Feng Xuanyi could think of it as well. Had Hua not been so unnaturally peaceful, Nalan Xuan would never have been confident about this expedition, much less dared stake everything upon it. And the only person Feng Xuanyi could entrust with such an important task at this moment was Prince Yu, Feng Xuanzhen, who had rendered great service during his struggle for the throne.
For a long time, the masked man said nothing. Even though his identity had supposedly been exposed, he showed neither surprise nor disbelief, not even the slightest momentary reaction. Across the length of the hall, his gaze remained tightly entwined with Nalan Xuan’s, unwilling to shift by even a fraction. It seemed utterly calm, yet somehow contained a thousand unspoken words—so heavy, so complicated, so deeply suppressed and restrained. Still, he said nothing and paid no attention even to his own attendants, who were fighting desperately against Xiliang’s elite troops while clearly at a disadvantage.
The stare made Nalan Xuan deeply uncomfortable, as though his clothes had been stripped away and he had been left naked before another person’s inspection. It really was true that like attracted like. Among so many brothers, there was undeniably a reason why only these two had ended up on the same side. Their personalities, behavior, and methods of dealing with people might appear completely different on the surface, but at their core they were exactly alike.
“Of course. Back in Hua, I was nothing more than a lowly commoner, a contemptible slave. How could someone like me possibly trouble Your Highness to remove your mask personally?” A shadow of ruthlessness darkened Nalan Xuan’s smile. His phoenix eyes remained bright and beautiful, but the gaze within them was cold enough to intimidate anyone. “Then allow this ‘disciple’ to properly ask his ‘master’ for a few pointers!”
Nalan Xuan sprang into the air. When Feng Xuanzhen had once instructed him in martial arts during their time in the army, he had marveled at Nalan Xuan’s extraordinary natural talent. He had seemed to possess no foundation whatsoever, yet understood every technique almost the instant it was taught. What Feng Xuanzhen had never known was that before losing his memories, Nalan Xuan had been born into a military family. How could the son of a great general truly have been powerless to defend himself?
The masked man dressed in foreign clothing still seemed distracted. Only when Nalan Xuan was almost upon him did he narrowly evade the forceful palm strike.
Taking advantage of his lighter, more agile build, Nalan Xuan abruptly closed the distance and launched a sequence of close-range joint locks aimed directly at vulnerable points. The masked man retreated and evaded him continuously. Even when openings appeared, he only defended and never counterattacked. Whatever his reason might have been, whatever orders Feng Xuanyi might have given him, refusing to attack in front of Nalan Xuan was no different from courting death.
Nalan Xuan’s movements showed no hesitation and flashed as quickly as lightning. As the sound of fighting beneath the platform gradually died away, Nalan Xuan knew the outcome had been decided. A bloodthirsty smile curved across his lips, and the sharpness in his eyes blazed brighter. He pivoted suddenly. The sequence of joint-locking techniques changed, the hand traveling upward along the man’s left arm turning into a throat lock. The masked man failed to evade in time and was caught firmly.
“I truly should thank Feng Xuanyi for letting such a prize fall into my hands without effort!” Nalan Xuan gave a cold laugh and reached up, ripping the silver mask from the man’s face.
The man did not dodge, as though he did not care at all. Yet the face revealed beneath the mask instantly shattered Nalan Xuan’s composure.
“How could it be you?!” The cry escaped him before he could control it. That face had haunted countless midnight dreams, a face he had longed for and hated in equal measure. Even if it had been reduced to ashes, Nalan Xuan would still have recognized those suspicious eyes, that distrustful nature, that ruthless cruelty—
Feng Xuanyi!
Who could possibly have imagined that the emperor of an entire dynasty would disguise himself, infiltrate enemy territory, and pretend to be a lawless mountain bandit chief?
A vein at Nalan Xuan’s temple jumped violently. Acting entirely on instinct, he turned his head. The fighting below had indeed gradually stopped, but not in the way he had expected. Their nearly fivefold numerical advantage had vanished completely. All thirty elite soldiers lay scattered across the floor, every one of them captured, while Hu’erhan alone was still struggling desperately.