Chapter 119: The Shadow's Provocation

Now that King Pingyi had been defeated, for Chen Sinian and Wei Siyuan, the emotions stirred were deeper than the mere news itself, whether good or bad.

Chen Sinian let out a faint sigh, seemingly reflective, yet tinged with a sense of being used and discarded.

“Brother Sinian, you are unaware—this letter also mentions another contest,” Wei Siyuan said with a smile at the corner of his mouth. He brushed his temple lightly, his eyes filled with profound meaning as he looked at Chen Sinian.

Chen Sinian was puzzled and silently awaited the continuation.

For Wei Siyuan to show such interest, even O Ai, standing nearby, could not help but open his eyes slightly.

“The Wolf Head is dead, slain by the commander of the Divine Strategy Camp, Xiao Han.”

“Oh?” Before Chen Sinian could respond, O Ai furrowed his brows with a hint of curiosity and murmured thoughtfully.

“I met the Wolf Head a few times back then. He was skilled, with some innate talent. Perhaps after a few decades of enlightenment of heaven and earth, he might have risen to sainthood. A pity indeed.”

When O Ai had been exiled to the far north by the late emperor, the Wolf Head and others had not yet become grandmasters. By chance, they had once guided him briefly. To hear such news now was disheartening.

A saint?

Chen Sinian never expected the venomous saint O Ai to hold the Wolf Head in such high regard, but his thoughts diverged from O Ai’s.

The Wolf Head was dead. So was Wang Chang Geng.

He believed it would not take long before the case of the Northern General’s mansion would be closed. Thinking this, Chen Sinian glanced at Wei Siyuan once more. The faint smile on his lips belied the cold depth in his eyes.

It seemed all of this was part of his plan.

“Brother Wei, you are indeed a master strategist,” Chen Sinian said in a low voice, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he praised Wei Siyuan.

Despite Wang Chang Geng’s death, Wei Siyuan remained composed, which suggested he never intended to truly ally with Wang Chang Geng from the start.

To him, Wang Chang Geng had merely been a pawn until death.

Chen Sinian recalled the messenger Wang Chang Geng had sent days ago when he was trapped in the North Chang Prince’s mansion. Suddenly, everything became clear.

Everything was part of Wei Siyuan’s scheme. By holding his forces, no matter who won between Wang Chang Geng and Feng Ye Wu, the greatest beneficiary would be him.

All those so-called weather reasons were mere excuses.

This open stratagem was exactly what Chen Sinian found most terrifying about Wei Siyuan.

“Life is but a game of chess. I act only to protect myself,” Wei Siyuan said lightly, a faint smile on his lips.

A simple phrase—self-preservation—yet this move had already cast a formidable hero into an unfathomable abyss.

...

Outside Langya City, a few soldiers from the Divine Strategy Camp finished clearing the battlefield, carrying away the last corpses from Langya Pavilion before departing in turn.

The dozens of bodies piled together formed a small mound.

In the biting wind, blood had congealed and frozen. No one knew how long had passed before a trembling hand pushed away the corpses covering it. A figure crawled out from the heap.

Under the moonlight, the Wolf Head’s distinctive eyes shone with a faint, cold gleam.

“Cough... cough... haha, heaven has not forsaken me,” he coughed violently, spewing fresh blood. Blood stained the corners of his mouth as a weak smile cracked across his face. With a feeble groan, he shook his withered arm and painfully crawled away from the corpse pile toward the distant horizon.

On the cold, hard ground, a trail of blood was left behind.

Within Langya City, Feng Ye Wu of the Pingyi Palace suddenly turned and found Zhao Xiyan nowhere to be seen.

“Where has that woman gone?” he asked, frowning slightly as he questioned those around him about Zhao Xiyan’s whereabouts.

Lu Jue felt a surge of unease. Just moments ago, Wang Chang Geng’s suicide had drawn everyone’s attention, and they had forgotten about Zhao Xiyan’s existence.

Now that she was missing, if she intended to lead the remnants of Penglai Pavilion to avenge Wang Chang Geng...

Lu Jue hurriedly turned to ask Wei Nanqi and the others.

“Lord Wei, when you came in, did you notice any suspicious figures outside the Pingyi Palace?”

Wei Nanqi smiled faintly, calming him.

“Young Master Lu, do not be alarmed. When we arrived, we thoroughly searched the vicinity of the Pingyi Palace and captured about a dozen assassins.”

He turned to the soldiers behind him and ordered, “Bring those villains up here!”

At Wei Nanqi’s command, dozens of soldiers escorted a group of assassins dressed in night clothes into the palace, where they knelt before the gathered men.

“Among these men are remnants of Penglai Pavilion and some shadows from the Eastern Yi,” Wei Nanqi reported.

Feng Ye Wu’s safety could not be risked in the slightest. Wei Nanqi did not dare be careless and detained them all, awaiting Feng Ye Wu’s instructions.

Feng Ye Wu’s eyes were cold as he scrutinized each face before speaking calmly.

“Take them to the rear courtyard of the palace. Execute them all.”

At his words, the soldiers drew their official sabers and urged the prisoners toward the back courtyard.

“Wait! Emperor of Ye, we only sought to protect our merchants’ safety, acting in secret without offense to your nation. We beg your forgiveness, Your Majesty!” one of the dozen or so prisoners, dressed similarly in night clothes but clearly distinct from the Penglai assassins, spoke hurriedly in the somewhat obscure Ye dialect.

Feng Ye Wu’s brows knitted in slight displeasure before he gave them a cold, disdainful smile.

“This is Ye territory. The safety of Eastern Yi merchants is under the protection of our soldiers. There is no need for your interference. Are we Ye soldiers worth less than you petty thieves?”

His words dripped with sarcasm, showing no regard for these shadow agents.

The shadow spy grew furious but, constrained by the swords behind him, could only retort bitterly.

“Do you think you know the arts of the Eastern Yi shadow spies? Ye may be a great power now, but you bully the weak with your numbers!”

The man’s words were clearly loaded. If Feng Ye Wu truly executed some of them, it would cause a loss of face for the ruler.

Feng Ye Wu quietly studied the defiant shadow spy. His eyes narrowed. He could not personally intervene—among those present, Lu Jue and Xiao Han were injured, Wei Nanqi had no martial skill, and the others were uncertain if they could overpower these shadow agents.

“Then, if that is the case, I am willing to accept your challenge,” Lu Jue stepped forward from behind Feng Ye Wu, his sword brow and starry eyes brimming with confidence. He brandished his long sword toward the shadow spies.

Feng Ye Wu said nothing; for Lu Jue to step forward showed he had some confidence. If Feng Ye Wu spoke, it might diminish their momentum.

“I, Xiao Han, will fight alongside you,” Xiao Han said, raising his spear with one hand and standing beside Lu Jue. The two exchanged a glance, mutual admiration shining in their eyes.

Xiao Han had followed Lu Jue’s father, the previous Northern General, through many campaigns. Watching Lu Jue grow up, he now saw in him a reflection of those glorious days.

“Do you intend to fight two against two with us?” one shadow spy asked with a savage gleam in his eyes.

“You will face us all together,” Lu Jue replied firmly.