Chapter Seventy-Nine: Contest of Strength (XIII)

The royal tent covered a vast area. From a distance, Xu Le had always believed there would be a chance to slip through unnoticed, sneak into the tent, find someone who knew Luodun's whereabouts, rescue him, and then find three horses to gallop out of the camp, making straight for the city of Yunzhong. Once past the low mountain outposts, how could these thousand-strong Qianyue warriors possibly chase them down?

Xu Le had utter confidence in his ability to break through the camp. If not for his lack of experience earlier in the day, when he charged headlong into the formation led by Gaida Heiguo and suffered for it, he would long since have taken advantage and escaped far away.

As for what would come after rescuing Luodun—whether he would help Luodun regain control of the Lianghait tribe or something else—Xu Le hadn’t thought that far. He simply followed his grandfather’s strict teachings: act with a clear conscience and walk the straight path. He was determined to save his grandfather’s old friend, Luodun, who had shown him such kindness the very first time they met.

But now, that beautiful plan was shattered. Xu Le was almost ready to curse. It was already deep into the night before the royal tent. Patrols still circled outside, guards manned the palisade, and soldiers moved through the camp. Was it really necessary to post so many guards around the royal tent?

At this moment, at least seventy or eighty Qianyue warriors formed a ring around the tent. Though they were not particularly vigilant—some sat, some stood, a few chatted in low voices—the sheer number made it impossible for Xu Le and Bu Li to approach unnoticed, much less slip inside.

Heaven only knew what was happening in the royal tent tonight!

Crouched in the darkness beside a tent, Xu Le listened to the Qianyue tribesmen snoring inside and shook his head. He strained his ears to catch the slightest sounds, searching for the noise of horses feeding at night.

Since he could not quietly rescue Luodun, he would have to make a grander move. He had hoped not to cause too much trouble tonight, especially after wounding so many Qianyue warriors earlier. But now, there was no other way.

They had forced his hand.

The Qianyue camp hosted over six hundred elite warriors, with many clansfolk serving as support, plus a stockpile of goods for the upcoming autumn fair at Yunzhong. They kept more than a thousand horses. Though some patrols were out, and several horses grazed at makeshift posts, the strongest warhorses—the ones meant for battle—were kept in the camp’s stables.

To maintain the horses’ strength, they had to be well fed and sheltered at night. There was a stable in the camp that housed four to five hundred horses.

With so many horses, there was no way to keep quiet. Occasionally, the sound of a neigh, or the chewing of night feed, carried far in the quiet night.

Xu Le listened carefully in the darkness, then winked at Bu Li. The little wolf-girl stared with wide eyes and nodded dumbly. She had no idea what Xu Le intended, but her heart was set: whatever he did, she would follow. Her grandfather had sent her to find Xu Le, and she would cling to him until they rescued the old man.

In the dark, Xu Le began to move stealthily again. The seventy or eighty weary Qianyue sentries remained oblivious, some laughing a bit too loudly, their voices drifting out into the night.

Gaida Heiguo was startled awake by the laughter outside.

He had slept fitfully, tossing and turning through the night, plagued by strange and bizarre dreams.

For Heiguo, life had always been under the shelter of Gaida Wutou. He was no spoiled scion, but had never known much of killing and bloodshed. Wutou always stood at the front, shouldering all burdens and dangers, keeping them from Heiguo’s path.

But Wutou was growing older by the day—aching from old wounds, his energy failing, his memory faltering. Even riding a horse for half an hour left him sore and exhausted, needing a long rest after dismounting.

Tribal affairs now fell to Gaida Heiguo. Once he took charge, he realized just how precarious the Qianyue clan’s position was.

The Turks were powerful and aggressive, while their former backer, the Sui Empire, was crumbling and could no longer offer help to the Nine Clans.

The Nine Clans, who had always survived by playing both sides between the Turks and the Sui, now had to choose a side.

Heiguo had neither the ambition nor the resolve to lead the Qianyue to domination over the steppe. He simply chose the easier path. Since the Sui had fallen, siding with the Turks seemed only natural.

In Heiguo’s view, under Turkic protection, he could live in peace as a minor chieftain, give what was asked, avoid the front lines, and pass his days quietly.

He hadn’t expected that after pledging allegiance to the Turks and settling the Nine Clans’ alliance, he would find himself thrown onto the battlefield!

Xu Le’s lone charge, his unmatched valor, had left Gaida Heiguo instinctively cowering behind his army. Then came the armored Hengan cavalry, who formed up and loosed their arrows, nearly routing the steppe warriors famed for their horsemanship.

Watching his clansmen fall screaming, seeing the armored Sui cavalry advance like a wall, Heiguo had to summon all his will just to keep from fleeing.

It was only thanks to Yuan Junzhang’s timely arrival and restraint of his troops that disaster was averted. The reserved demeanor of the Hengan Eagle Command—what did it mean? What understanding did they have with the Turks? Heiguo didn’t want to think about it.

He just wanted the trouble to end quickly.

He no longer wished to attend the autumn fair at Yunzhong, only to lead the captured Nine Clans nobles north of Yinshan, and gradually unite the tribes under Turkic support.

But the two Turkic nobles wouldn’t allow it—more precisely, Zhibi Luoluo wouldn’t. He remained among the Qianyue, refusing to leave and receiving mysterious visitors. As long as he stayed, the Qianyue had to remain to protect his identity. Each extra day in this dangerous place risked new trouble.

Tonight, Heiguo had lost count of how many times he regretted siding with the Turks, but each time the thought arose, he forced it down.

There is no medicine for regret in this world…

Heiguo woke from his couch, unable to sleep again, and stared at the patched roof of the tent. Zhibi Luoluo and Zhibi Sili occupied the center of the royal tent; Heiguo and Wutou had moved to side tents. Wutou was just next door, and at that moment, the old man’s coughing could be heard, growing harsher.

Footsteps sounded outside; a personal guard entered, paused at the entrance, unsure whether to wake Heiguo immediately.

Irritated, Heiguo called from his couch, “What is it now?”

The guard hurried forward, bent to whisper a few words in his ear.

Heiguo sat up with a start, his face ashen.

He truly didn’t want to kill anyone—all these Nine Clans nobles were elders or uncles. He would rather keep them well fed and comfortable. With Qianyue’s current strength and Turkic backing, what real trouble could the minor nobles cause?

But with a Turkic order, how could he dare defy it?

Pale, Heiguo thought it over, then quietly asked, “Has Lie Lie returned?”

The guard replied softly, “Lie Lie went to win back the hearts of the Lianghait tribe and has just arrived with his trusted men to stand night watch at the royal tent.”

Heiguo snorted coldly. “How diligent—can’t tell if he’s trying to please us or those Turkic nobles. Since he’s so eager, let him do the deed.”

The guard accepted the order and left. Heiguo sat on his couch with a powerless, bitter smile.

At least his own hands would not be stained—perhaps his conscience would rest a little easier.

From the next tent, Wutou’s coughing suddenly grew violent, almost tearing at his chest.

Born in troubled times, one’s fate is not their own…