Chapter 118: Ou Ai, the Poison Saint

In the far north, the biting night wind howled, relentlessly pounding against the tightly sealed doors and windows of the Prince of Beichang’s manor. The structure groaned and rattled in a frantic, creaking rhythm. Inside the main hall, a massive furnace crackled softly, casting flickering light.

To one side, Wei Siyuan and Chen Sinian were engaged in a game of chess. A maid, nodding off in a stupor of sleepiness, moved quietly to pour tea for the two men.

"Brother Sinian’s skill at chess has improved once again," Wei Siyuan remarked. He stared intently at the board, where the black and white pieces were locked in a fierce, aggressive stalemate. Unable to immediately discern the best move, he could not help but offer a word of praise.

Upon hearing the compliment, Chen Sinian let out a hearty, booming laugh that startled the drowsy maid, snapping her fully awake.

"Hahaha, you flatter me! A brute like me only knows how to charge headlong; what kind of chess skill is that?"

Since dinner, the two had been playing, continuing well into the night. Yet, after three or five games, neither showed any sign of fatigue; if anything, they seemed increasingly spirited.

"I have neglected you these past few days, Brother Sinian. With the heavy snow sealing the mountain passes, travel is impossible. I fear that in the comfort of my manor, you must be itching to leave," Wei Siyuan said, smiling as he finally decided on his move.

The maid noticed their cups were low and quickly refilled them with hot tea before retreating to the sidelines. Chen Sinian frowned slightly as he studied the board, observing how Wei Siyuan had executed a brilliant maneuver to salvage a desperate position and dismantle his trap. He replied calmly, "It is no matter. Even if I returned to my own lands in this weather, I would only be hiding away in my rooms to idle the time."

Every year, when the season of wind and snow arrived, nearly the entire northern region of the Ye Dynasty—including the fiefs of the Prince of Changwu and the Prince of Jiangyuan, which flanked the Prince of Beichang’s territory—became virtually impassable.

"It has been a long time since we two brothers have been able to sit and play so leisurely. Once we tire, I shall have the servants prepare more wine and food. Drinking together in the midst of this cold winter has a charm all its own," Wei Siyuan said, his face alight with pleasure. As he spoke, his peripheral vision caught a dark shadow flickering past the window before vanishing.

Chen Sinian appeared to be deliberating over the board, but his ears twitched; he had clearly heard the movement at the door, yet he remained deep in thought, showing no outward reaction.

A moment later, a knock sounded at the door, followed by a sudden, heavy silence.

"Who is it?"

Wei Siyuan said nothing, but the maid, curious and confused, walked toward the door. The two men at the chessboard remained unmoved. The maid glanced at the princes, who ignored the disturbance, and could not help but lean in, pressing her ear against the cold door frame.

Beyond the howling of the wind, there was not a sound.

*Could I have misheard?*

Doubts arose in her heart. She glanced back at the two princes still playing, dismissed it as a product of her own drowsiness, pursed her lips, and turned to walk back.

Suddenly, the door swung inward with a violent force, and a frigid gust of wind swept into the hall. The room, previously warm, instantly plummeted in temperature. The maid turned in a panic, trying to force the door shut, her eyes squinting against the biting gale.

*Sssss...*

A strange sound hissed through the howling wind, and in the darkness outside, a shadow lunged at the maid. Like a serpent, the shadow’s robes coiled around her before she could even scream.

*Crack, snap.* The sound of bones shattering echoed from within the robes.

*Thud!*

The maid, her life extinguished, was tossed casually out of the room, landing heavily on the frozen ground of the courtyard.

"Ah! Freezing me to the bone. Nothing warms the blood like a taste of human life."

After disposing of the corpse, a voice as rough as sandpaper emanated from the shadow, seemingly savoring the lingering taste of blood. Wei Siyuan glanced at the shadow with indifference before returning his gaze to the board, entirely unconcerned with the fate of his servant. Chen Sinian, catching the thick,腥 stench wafting from the figure, frowned, a flicker of disgust passing through his eyes.

*Clang.*

The shadow flickered, and the two wooden doors of the hall slammed shut. He walked to the furnace and pulled back his hood, revealing his face: long, ink-green hair braided into thick, rope-like strands. His wide forehead was etched with deep furrows, and his sunken eyes burned with a cold, greenish light. Beneath a prominent, hooked nose, his lips were chapped and stained with fresh, crimson blood.

"So, it is the Poison Saint. I pay my respects," Chen Sinian said, rising quickly to bow respectfully. As a Saint, the figure was a presence that transcended emperors in any nation on this continent, and it was only fitting for the Prince of Changwu to show such deference.

"Enough. Both of you, continue your game. I have only come because I was entrusted to deliver this letter to the Prince of Beichang."

With that, the Poison Saint, Ou Yi, pulled a letter from his robes and tossed it to Wei Siyuan, who was still pondering the board. He then sat on a wooden chair, closed his eyes, and began to meditate.

Wei Siyuan did not even look up; he simply reached out and caught the letter in mid-air.

"A letter from the East. It seems there is a result."

With these words, Wei Siyuan made a decisive move, bringing the game to a conclusion. Chen Sinian glanced at the board; he had lost. He smiled faintly at Wei Siyuan.

"Then I shall return to my quarters to rest."

After all, it was somewhat improper for him to be present for another prince’s secret correspondence. Just as Chen Sinian turned to leave, Wei Siyuan called out to him.

"Brother Sinian, why stand on ceremony? Are we not both waiting for the outcome of this game?"

Chen Sinian paused. As Wei Siyuan’s words implied, even if he returned to his chambers, he would only be pestering others for news of Langya City. Since Wei Siyuan had already pierced through their mutual intent, he simply turned back, sat down, and waited quietly for Wei Siyuan to read the letter.

A moment later, Wei Siyuan finished reading and looked toward Chen Sinian. "Brother Sinian, who do you think won this round?"

Chen Sinian set down his teacup, a flicker of thought passing behind his heavy brows, and said softly, "Is the Prince of Pingyi dead?"

"Oh? It seems Brother Sinian was quite certain of the outcome all along." Wei Siyuan looked at Chen Sinian with an amused expression, sighing inwardly. The Prince of Changwu had always been known for his martial prowess, but who could have guessed that beneath that rugged and bold exterior lay a heart as meticulous as silk?

"I wouldn't say certain, but your composure, Prince of Beichang, was enough to tell me that Wang Changgeng has lost."

Chen Sinian sighed softly and looked out the window, a hint of regret in his eyes. Although the seven great princes did not stay in close contact these days, back when the late Emperor had granted them their fiefs, the eight princes had fought side-by-side against their enemies. To say there was no sentiment at all would be a lie.