Chapter Fourteen: Discovery

Xu Le stood atop the mountain peak, gazing out over the vast, silent darkness of the surrounding ranges. It was already the second half of the night; in another hour, the sun would cast its first beam across the eastern summit. The long night seemed finally poised to pass.

Behind him, his subordinates and the packhorses pressed onward, tense and weary, climbing through vines and brush in the gloom, striving with all their strength. The day had been arduous, and the night brought a fierce skirmish. After hastily dealing with the bodies of the Eagle Banner soldiers, they hurriedly set out again. Whether retainers or young swordsmen, all were utterly exhausted, yet each gritted their teeth in silence, urging their mounts forward, stumbling along the mountain path in the dark.

Everyone shared a single thought: the farther they could get from the site of the battle, the better.

Han Yue carried bundles large and small, doing his utmost to shoulder the burdens and care for everyone. This tall and robust youth always seemed so reliable, but the gaze of the young swordsmen toward Han Yue had changed entirely. Who knew how much skill this little guardian had hidden during his time in Shenwu County? Last night, with the iron token in hand, he drove the Eagle Banner soldiers into disarray, unmatched by anyone.

Song Bao, who also aided Han Yue in caring for the group, had curbed his usual arrogance, quietly fulfilling duties he should have long ago. Yet Song Bao’s eyes often drifted to Xu Le, who led the procession.

Last night, Xu Le had acted with just a single blow, yet the decisiveness and finality of it made even seasoned fighters like Song Bao shudder. Han Yue, Xu Le’s loyal companion, had already shown such prowess—so what of Xu Le’s true abilities?

There were many tales in Shenwu County about the old patriarch of the Xu family, who, with one horse and one bow, had subdued the entire Sanggan valley. But those stories were distant echoes to the new generation of swordsmen, little more than jokes to them.

Now, Han Yue, trained by the old patriarch himself, had awed them all. What then must Xu Le, the patriarch’s own grandson, truly be?

The crisp sound of Chang Shuxin’s neck breaking still echoed in everyone’s ears. Yet, after such a night of upheaval, Xu Le remained calm and smiling, insisting they press northward. This seemingly gentle and amiable young master revealed a nature as unyielding as iron.

In the darkness, Song Bao glanced at Xu Le’s upright figure, wiped the sweat from his brow, and silently resolved never to provoke Xu Le again. Once this matter was settled, he would hurry to Hedong to enlist as a soldier, severing all ties with Xu Le.

“Hurry up, hurry up! If you keep dawdling, dawn will break! Who knows if there are more Heng’an garrison troops nearby?” Song Bao’s muttered curses rang out, bustling about, even appearing more diligent than Han Yue.

Xu Le, at the head of the group, was oblivious to Song Bao’s private thoughts. He merely examined the waist tokens in his hand—all taken from the fallen Eagle Banner soldiers. Although he had chosen to continue north, it did not mean he was arrogant enough to believe there were no dangers ahead.

Should trouble arise...

Xu Le glanced northeast, toward the direction of Cloud City. The night was thick, and from amidst the mountains, not a trace of the city could be seen. A faint smile touched his lips—carefree, unruly, with a hint of youthful anticipation.

If things escalated, so be it.

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At the summit of Hanging Seal Peak, the scent of blood lingered still. Torchlight flickered in the woods, illuminating everything vividly. Several Eagle Banner soldiers dug at freshly disturbed earth, dragging out corpses of their comrades. Chang Shuxin lay among them, neck broken, head drooping limply, mouth gaping, his face frozen in shock.

Each of these Eagle Banner soldiers’ eyes burned red with rage. This was Heng’an Garrison territory—who had slaughtered an entire squad in the dead of night? Chang Shuxin, however unpopular, was one of theirs; this vendetta must be avenged.

All eyes turned to Yuan Junwei, awaiting his word. Once he spoke, they would rally the brothers, search the mountains, and tear the culprit to pieces.

Yuan Junwei clenched his fists, silent. In truth, the young captain in his twenties could barely contain his fury; he regarded Heng’an Garrison as his home, and any threat was met with relentless resolve.

But before departing, his most admired elder brother had repeatedly instructed him: leading the patrol troops outside, the priority was to secure more revenue for Heng’an Garrison. Whether facing Wang Ren Gong’s Ma Yi soldiers or the Turkic raiders who might sweep south at any moment, avoid unnecessary conflict.

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The situation at Heng’an Garrison was delicately poised; Liu Wu Zhou was striving to find a breakthrough, and nothing must arise that could not be managed. Every action must be defensible.

Patrolling and searching merchant caravans was hardly a big deal; who told them to sneak through the mountains and evade the tax checkpoints? The truly influential families traveled openly on the main roads, always exempt from taxes, with Wang Ren Gong and Liu Wu Zhou giving them every convenience. Those traversing the mountains were merely small traders with no backing.

Yuan Junwei believed he had kept his men in check—if present, he ordered no harm, merely to drive the merchants away. Out of sight, he could only turn a blind eye, for morale was paramount.

How much trouble could these small traders cause? The high officials never considered such commoners worth their attention. Liu Wu Zhou was only a thorn in Wang Ren Gong’s side due to his origins; if Liu were from a noble family, things would be different.

But what if they were hard-nosed spies sent by Wang Ren Gong, or Turkic raiders?

Whether to retaliate was not Yuan Junwei’s decision. He must report to his elder brother and Liu the Eagle Striker.

Under the expectant gaze of his men, Yuan Junwei left the woods in silence, methodically searching the summit’s clearing. His two guards hurried over, raising torches.

Yuan Junwei examined the traces of campfires, footprints, and hoofprints. On the ground, he found scattered white powder.

He reached down, tasted it, and finally allowed a cruel smile to curl his lips.

This was salt from Jiechi in Hedong, a merchant’s favorite cargo—on the grasslands, salt was prized by the tribes. Half a sack of Jiechi salt could trade for a fine horse.

Merchants—merchants had murdered his entire squad!

Yuan Junwei abruptly halted, shouting orders, “Send word! Mobilize all the patrol brothers—let’s see who dares attack our Eagle Banner soldiers! I’ll flay them myself!”

His guards immediately pulled signal arrows from their quivers and launched them skyward, their shrill cries ripping through the night.

Soon, from the surrounding mountains, echoing signal arrows responded. Points of torchlight flared to life.

The elite patrols of Heng’an Garrison scattered throughout these mountains were mobilized in full force.