Chapter 49
As night fell as dark as ink, the clamor of the military camp gradually subsided, leaving only the sound of bugles striking the frozen silence in the cold wind.
Inside Xiao Qiyun's tent, only a single lamp was lit. The tiny flame flickered in the bronze lamp, casting a long, distorted shadow of his dark figure onto the tent wall, like a lurking ghost.
The tent flap was silently lifted, and Sheng Xuan stepped in, still smelling of sweat from his training and the chill of the night dew.
He hadn't removed his silver armor, and his shoulder armor was still covered in sand. His brows held the lingering anger from being scolded by his brother earlier that day, as well as a hint of barely perceptible fatigue.
His gaze fell upon the serene darkness beneath the lamplight, and he paused, then strode forward, his voice hoarse and rough: "Your Highness, what brings you here so late at night?"
Xiao Qiyun didn't look up, his fingertips holding a smooth white jade chess piece, gently tapping it on the rough wooden chessboard, producing a monotonous but rhythmic sound that was exceptionally clear in the silent tent. The sound was like some kind of countdown, striking Sheng Xuan's taut nerves.
"Sit down." Xiao Qiyun's voice was flat and calm, as if he were talking about the weather. He pushed a cup of warm tea over; the tea soup was a deep brown in the dim light, making it impossible to see what was inside.
Sheng Xuan sat down as instructed, her back ramrod straight like a fully drawn bow, her gaze fixed intently on Xiao Qiyun.
Xiao Qiyun finally looked up, the dim light falling on his face, half bright and half dark.
His eyes, though outwardly calm, held a depth of turmoil. He slowly began to speak, recounting in detail the plans he and Sheng Chi had discussed during the day in the tent regarding "cults," human blood sacrifices to feed on Gu poison, and setting bait to lure the enemy.
His tone remained calm, yet it was like a dull knife, slowly and clearly etching those bloody and cruel words into Sheng Xuan's ears, one by one.
Upon hearing the terms "human bait," "feeding with poison," and "manipulating people's minds," Sheng Xuan's pupils contracted sharply. His fist, resting on his knee, clenched tightly, his knuckles cracking, and the veins on the back of his hand bulging. He could almost smell the heavy stench of blood and the sinister aura emanating from those words!
"What did my brother say?" Sheng Xuan's voice was squeezed out from between his teeth, filled with suppressed anger and a slight, almost imperceptible tremor.
Xiao Qiyun picked up the teacup, gently blew away the foam, his movements elegant and composed, a stark contrast to the bloodthirstiness in his words.
"The general..." He took a sip of tea, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly, his voice carrying a barely perceptible hint of mockery, "He said this plan is cruel and not something a border army would do. He fears it might demoralize the troops, and even more so, that if the bait fails, it could end up aiding the enemy."
He put down his teacup and looked at Sheng Xuan's face, which was slightly flushed with anger. "We need to consider this carefully."
"Let's take this into consideration?!" Sheng Xuan slammed his hand on the low table in front of him, causing the teacup to jump and spill tea, leaving dark water stains on the rough wooden surface.
He abruptly stood up, his chest heaving violently, his silver armor reflecting a cold, icy glint in the dim light. "The cult is right before our eyes! Using human blood to concoct poisons! Manipulating people's minds! This kind of cancer, every day it remains, will cost countless more lives! What are we still discussing?! Are we waiting for them to turn the border soldiers into walking corpses with their poisons?!"
His eyes burned with an almost fanatical flame, the young general's most instinctive hatred for evil and his determination to eradicate it, mixed with the resentment of being looked down upon by his elder brother and suppressed by military affairs, erupting like a volcano at this moment.
"What do you mean it wasn't done by the border troops?! As long as we nip it in the bud and eliminate any future trouble! I—"
He pointed sharply to his chest, the silver breastplate reflecting his face contorted with excitement under the light: "I'll be the bait!"
The tent was deathly silent. Even the flame of the lone lamp seemed to freeze for a moment.
Xiao Qiyun's fingers, which were holding the chess piece, paused in mid-air. He finally raised his head, his gaze landing squarely on Sheng Xuan's face.
His gaze was deep and unfathomable, devoid of surprise or approval, only a cold, expectant scrutiny.
"You?" he spoke slowly, his voice as deep and still as an ancient well. "Do you know what 'feeding Gu' means? It's not just an ordinary sword or knife wound."
When the Gu worm enters the body, it gnaws at the bones and gnaws at the heart, making life worse than death. If one is not careful, one's mind and spirit will be taken away, turning one into a demonic puppet, never to be reincarnated.
Every word was like a poisoned ice pick, piercing Sheng Xuan fiercely.
Sheng Xuan did not back down. Instead, he met that gaze with even greater force, his chest puffed out and his eyes burning even brighter: "I don't know!" His voice was hoarse but resolute, "But maybe Zhe Lan... Zhe Lan endured it all back then!"
His Adam's apple bobbed violently, as if the pain was gnawing at his throat as he spoke. "Rather than let innocent death row inmates or civilians fill the gaps in that demon's teeth, I'd rather go! I'm stronger than them! My bones can withstand it! My will will never be controlled by that devil!"
His eyes gleamed with an almost obsessive determination, his voice carrying a desperate ruthlessness mixed with a barely perceptible softness: "As long as we can find their hideout, as long as we can obtain the cure, as long as we can..."
He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing again, his voice softening, "To protect the thousands of people behind this pass, to protect... those I care about from suffering the torment of that poison! I'll take the bait!"
As soon as he finished speaking, only Sheng Xuan's heavy breathing and the faint crackling of the burning lamp wick remained in the tent.
Xiao Qiyun stared at him quietly for a long time.
In those deep eyes, a complex undercurrent surged—a cold assessment of this reckless courage, a calculation of the plan's progress, and perhaps even a faint sting of pain from being burned by this sincerity.
Ultimately, all emotions subsided into a deep calm.
He put down the chess piece he had been holding between his fingers. The piece landed on the chessboard with a soft "tap," like a declaration that something had finally settled.
“Alright.” Xiao Qiyun’s voice was soft, but carried an undeniable weight. “Since the Second Young Master is so determined, I… will gamble with you on this.”
A startling light flashed in Sheng Xuan's eyes, like a torch lit in the darkness. Without another word, he clasped his hands in a fist salute, his black cloak drawing a sharp arc as he turned, carrying an unstoppable momentum as he strode out of the tent, his figure instantly disappearing into the thick darkness and howling night wind outside.
The next day, before the morning light had dispelled the chill of the border region, Xiao Qiyun's dark figure reappeared before the commander's tent.
The tent flap was lifted, revealing Sheng Chi leaning over the sand table, his iron armor gleaming coldly in the dim light. He looked up and saw Xiao Qiyun, his brows furrowing almost imperceptibly before regaining his composure. He clasped his hands in greeting and said, "Your Highness."
Xiao Qiyun entered the tent with unhurried steps, his black robes brushing away the lingering dust on the ground. "General," he said calmly, "have you made a decision regarding the bait we discussed yesterday?"
Sheng Chi straightened up, the scales of his armor rubbing together with a slight, sharp sound. His gaze was as firm as a rock, and he said in a deep voice, "Your Highness, I have thought this through carefully. Using living people as bait to carry out such a cruel and dangerous tactic not only goes against our army's duty to protect the people, but also easily shakes the very foundation of the army's morale. This plan... I'm afraid I can't comply. We still need to consider it further and wait for the court's instructions."
His tone was resolute, leaving no room for negotiation, and his hand had already unconsciously pressed on the hilt of the knife at his waist, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force.
Xiao Qiyun showed no anger on his face; instead, a faint, almost playful smile curved his lips. “I understand the general’s concerns,” he said slowly, his gaze passing over Sheng Chi’s shoulder and landing on the direction of the tent flap. “However, I have already found someone… who is willing.”
Before the words were finished, the tent flap was suddenly flung open by a hand wearing silver-armored wrist guards!
Sheng Xuan strode into the tent. He was dressed in full military uniform, his black cloak fluttering behind him. His young face held an almost tragic determination, and his gaze was intense as he looked directly at Sheng Chi.
Sheng Chi's pupils suddenly contracted to pinpoints! He felt as if he had been struck in the chest by an invisible hammer, his body swaying violently, barely managing to steady himself by grabbing the edge of the sand table. His gaze swept back and forth between Xiao Qiyun's calm, expressionless face and Sheng Xuan's stubbornly upright figure, a chilling rage and unbelievable horror instantly shattering his proud self-control.
"You..." Sheng Chi's voice was squeezed out from between his teeth, terrifyingly hoarse, like a bowstring on the verge of breaking. He stared intently at Xiao Qiyun, his eyes bloodshot, his gaze almost piercing through the other man like a tangible blade. "Your Highness... quite the skill!"
His chest heaved violently, each word dripping with blood, "My general's family is full of loyal martyrs! My grandfather died on the battlefield, my father sacrificed himself for the country! Now... now only my brother and I are left!"
He took a sudden step forward, his iron fist clenched so tightly it cracked, the veins on the back of his hand bulging like writhing dragons, the edges of his gauntlets even slightly deformed from the force, as if they were about to dig into his flesh at any moment. "Your Highness, are you... going to wipe out my General's Mansion?!"
The air inside the tent seemed to freeze, and the heavy pressure caused even the embers in the corner to dim. The guards outside the tent seemed to sense something amiss, as the faint clanging of armor could be heard.
Sheng Xuan was startled by the deep despair and rage in his brother's eyes. He rushed forward and said urgently, "Brother! It's not what you think! His Highness didn't force me! It was my own fault..."
"Shut up!!!"
A loud shout rang out like a thunderclap!
Sheng Chi suddenly turned around, his speed creating a gust of wind! His giant hand, clad in an iron-armored glove, slapped Sheng Xuan hard across the face with the force of a thunderbolt!
"Smack—!!!"
A crisp, almost piercing sound of flesh striking flesh echoed through the deathly silence of the tent.
Sheng Xuan covered his burning cheek, beads of blood seeping from between his fingers rolling down and splashing onto the cold edge of the sand table, spreading into a small, glaring red patch. He staggered to his feet, tasting the strong metallic flavor on his tongue, but then suddenly looked up, his gaze like a red-hot iron, fixed on Sheng Chi's face, and roared hoarsely:
"Why?!" The boy's voice was hoarse and broken, as if it had been sanded. "I also grew up in the training grounds! I could draw my grandfather's strong bow when I was eight! At twelve, I accompanied my father to escort grain and beheaded bandits in Wolf Valley! Why?! Why, since you were appointed General of the North, have I been confined to my mansion and haven't even been able to touch the edge of the battlefield?!"
His chest heaved violently, each question like a knife to his heart: "Brother! Tell me! The lintel of the General's Mansion was built by our great-grandfather carrying the head of the Turkic Khan! Grandfather died in battle at Yumen Pass, and his remains were never fully recovered! Father... Father at Hulu Pass, to cover the retreat, led three hundred men of his personal guard, and fought until his last drop of blood was shed!"
His voice choked with emotion, his eyes brimming with a mixture of tears and rage. "The men of our family are born to die on the battlefield! Why is it that when they come to me, they can only be... just a useless piece of trash protected under your wings?!"
He took a sudden step forward, almost crashing into Sheng Chi's chest, ignoring the turbulent emotions churning in the other's eyes, and roared each word with a blood-curdling growl.
He practically roared out the last few words, with a desperate resolve and unfathomable pain: "I want to chop those bastards to pieces with my own hands! I want to grind their Gu worms into dust one by one! I want to..."
His voice suddenly dropped, trembling with an almost pleading tone, "I have to protect the person I care about! I can't... I can't stand by and watch him suffer anymore! Brother... you can't stop me! You can't protect me forever!"
The tent was deathly silent.
Sheng Chi's tall body stood frozen like a cast-iron statue. The residual power of that thunderous palm strike seemed to still linger in his palm, making his entire arm numb.
But at this moment, Sheng Xuan's tearful accusations were like countless blunt knives dipped in salt, stabbing viciously into his supposedly unbreakable defenses.
He saw the flame burning in his brother's eyes—not the recklessness of a youth, but the innate courage and responsibility tempered in the family bloodline, mixed with a deep and unwavering desire to protect his loved ones.
That look was just like the last glance his father gave him when he looked back at Hulukou—calm, resolute, and heavy with the weight of entrusting everything.
Inside the tent, only Sheng Xuan's heavy breathing and the faint crackling of the dying embers could be heard. The rage and ashen complexion on Sheng Chi's face gradually faded, replaced by a deep weariness and...pain, as if all his strength had been drained away.
He slowly loosened his grip on the knife hilt; the hand that had once commanded thousands of troops now hung limply at his side.
He remained silent, his gaze shifting from Sheng Xuan's stubborn face to the rugged terrain on the sand table that symbolized Black Stone Gorge.
The silence was heavier than any roar, like an invisible mountain pressing down on the hearts of everyone inside the tent. The air was so still it was suffocating, and even the howling wind outside seemed to be blocked out.
He said nothing. There was no rebuke, no compromise, only a stagnant silence, yet one that seemed to hold a turbulent undercurrent.
Just as the suffocating silence was about to freeze, Xiao Qiyun made a move.
He took a silent step forward, his dark robes brushing the ground and stirring up fine dust.
Without a word, he simply pulled a roll of dark brown sheepskin from his wide sleeves.
The sheepskin was worn at the edges, exuding an old and worn feel, but the moment it was unfolded, it revealed a topographical map inside, meticulously drawn with cinnabar and ink lines—more detailed and rugged than the one on the sand table, clearly showing the entirety of Black Stone Gorge!
“General,” Xiao Qiyun’s voice rang out steadily, breaking the silence, yet it was more unsettling than the stillness itself.
He pointed to a narrow pass at the entrance to the canyon on the sheepskin map, where a conspicuous cross was drawn in vermilion. "This is where the bait is laid."
Sheng Chi suddenly looked up, his gaze shooting like lightning to the map, then quickly sweeping over Xiao Qiyun's calm and expressionless face.
Xiao Qiyun's fingertips slid inward along the narrow pass, landing on the steep, knife-cut cliffs on both sides: "Three hundred strong crossbowmen can lie in ambush here."
He moved his fingertip again, pointing to a naturally recessed boulder platform in the middle of the canyon. "Here, a command post will be set up, where the general can personally command the flag, oversee the overall situation, and control the timing of the ambush."
His voice was clear and calm, as if he were directing a routine military exercise.
Finally, he pressed his fingertip heavily against the only exit of the canyon, where a menacing mark was drawn with thick, blood-red cinnabar: "Here, a thousand pounds of oil will be buried, with the fuse leading directly to the command post."
He raised his eyes, his gaze like the sharp tip of an ice needle, piercing straight into Sheng Chi's eyes. "If anything goes wrong, General, you only need to cut the red rope next to the command flag. The oil will pour out, and the flames will seal the valley, ensuring that no Gu worms or evil spirits escape."
Every word was like a cold iron nail, chiseling into Sheng Chi's taut nerves. The ambush positions, the command post, the escape route... the meticulousness of the plan and the ruthlessness of the deployment far exceeded his previous expectations. This was no spur-of-the-moment decision, but rather a long-planned scheme!
“The one who acts as bait,” Xiao Qiyun’s voice suddenly lowered, carrying a seductive depth, but his gaze turned to Sheng Xuan, who was covering his cheek and breathing heavily, “must be physically strong, have a strong will, and… be prepared to die.”
He paused, then added, "Last night, I asked Mr. Su Yan to specially make a heart-protecting talisman, which was drawn with cinnabar mixed with rooster blood and century-old lightning-struck wood powder, and sewn into the soft armor close to my body. According to Su Yan, this talisman can temporarily lock the heart meridian, slow down the speed at which the Gu poison attacks the heart, and buy at least three hours."
The tent fell silent again, but this time the silence was filled with a suffocating tension, as if a storm was brewing.
Sheng Chi's chest heaved violently, his gaze frantically shifting between Xiao Qiyun's cold, calculating face, Sheng Xuan's stubborn yet bewildered face, and the deathly land on the sand table that symbolized Black Stone Gorge.
Finally, his gaze was fixed on the menacing mark on the sand table, circled in vermilion, representing the location of the kerosene burial site.
As if he had made up his mind, he suddenly raised his hand and slammed his fist hard on the edge of the sand table!
"Boom—Crack!"
The sturdy wooden sand table frame shattered with a crash! Wood chips and gravel mixed with a few drops of splattered blood fell in a rustling sound, creating a jarring noise in the silent tent.
He slowly withdrew his hand, his knuckles a bloody mess, blood dripping from his fingertips and creating small, deep craters on the sand table.
He raised his head, all the struggle, pain, and rage on his face had faded, leaving only a bottomless, blood-stained coldness.
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