WNST - 122

The entire courtyard was filled with kneeling people. Suppressed sobs emerged from the crowd along with the cries of men being tortured. Besides that, it was so quiet it seemed frozen. Silent fear gripped everyone’s hearts.

All eyes were on Lady Gantang and Xie Queshan, who were kneeling on the ground.

Xie Queshan ignored her pleas, slowly helping her up from the ground and seating her in his chair.

He pressed her shoulders to keep her still and gently said, “Sister, don’t hide.”

Lady Gantang was fixed in the chair, her thin body trembling, her mind momentarily dazed.

”Chaoyun, don’t hide.”

When they were young, Xie Queshan was mischievous. He and Xie Xiaoliu climbed a wild hillside and accidentally fell, injuring half of his arm on thorns. Afraid of being scolded by the elders, they didn’t dare tell anyone and eventually went to Sister Gantang.

Sister applied medicine to his wound, but every time the ointment touched the injury, he flinched in pain. A boy of seven or eight, already quite strong, darted around the room like a monkey, and no one could hold him down.

Finally, she had no choice but to say helplessly, “Chaoyun, don’t hide, the more you hide, the more it hurts.”

In such chaos, Lady Gantang didn’t know why she remembered this past incident. Perhaps because she felt Xie Queshan’s hand pressing on her shoulder was also slightly trembling. She vaguely sensed something but couldn’t make sense of anything; everything before her remained chaotic.

Don’t hide? Should she just watch and do nothing?

She didn’t understand. But this thought left a small ray of hope in her mind. In her current state of helplessness, it was as if a little person inside her was wildly waving their arms, trying to grab onto something, hoping to catch a faint glimpse of hope.

Was there still someone who could turn the tide?

Two bamboo whips had been broken, and the night had deepened. Cold water washed away a shallow pool of blood, reflecting Tang Rong’s unyielding face.

Wanyan Jun grew impatient: “It seems Lady Gantang’s heart and mouth are equally stubborn.”

He stood up and walked over, looking at Xie Queshan: “What should we do in this situation?”

Xie Queshan understood Wanyan Jun’s implication perfectly.

He had given him enough face, but the interrogation yielded no results. Now he intended to act against his second sister.

Xie Queshan remained silent, seemingly conflicted.

”I did promise you, but sincerity has its limits. The Yucheng Army is hiding in Lidu Prefecture. We might be ambushed the moment we step out. There’s no time to wait... We can’t lose the bigger picture for the sake of sincerity, right?” Wanyan Jun’s words carried a threatening tone. “Are you still determined to protect the criminals at all costs?”

Lady Gantang looked up at the silent Xie Queshan. With the other party having spoken so bluntly, her hopes were gradually fading. She trembled violently, wanting to grab Xie Queshan’s hand, but he stepped back, leaving her clutching at air.

Xie Queshan cupped his hands and said, “It’s late, I should retire. Lord Wanyan, please feel free to do as you wish.” 

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving the entire area to Wanyan Jun. 

Before he even left the courtyard, a woman’s scream rang out, but Xie Queshan didn’t look back as he stepped through the gate. 

Wanyan Jun grabbed Madam Gantang by the neck and shoved her in front of Tang Rong. 

“If she won’t talk, then you tell me—your comrades have all gone into hiding, but you’ve left the group to stay here as a loyal dog for your mistress. Do you really want to watch her die right in front of you?” 

“—Let her go!” Tang Rong’s eyes were bloodshot. This struck at his weak point. He didn’t know where he found the strength, but he roared hysterically at Wanyan Jun, causing the iron chains to clatter loudly as he struggled. 

Wanyan Jun smiled. This tactic might be underhanded, but it was effective. Tang Rong was one of the top fighters in the Yucheng Army, yet he had voluntarily left the camp to become a lowly guard in a grand estate—what kind of debt could make him do this? 

Perhaps Madam Gantang saw things clearly, but a young man driven by passion might not. 

“Forget about her being just a secluded housewife. For the victory of Great Qi, even if I had to slaughter an entire city, it wouldn’t matter to me.” 

The pressure on Wanyan Jun’s hand increased bit by bit. Madam Gantang’s face turned from red to pale, and her throat could no longer produce any sound. 

“Tell me, where is the Yucheng Army hiding?” 

Tang Rong panicked: “They fled in such a hurry, they didn’t have time to inform me! I don’t know!” 

“Then what is the plan of the Yucheng Army?” 

Tang Rong hesitated for a moment. This silence revealed both his knowledge and his hesitation. 

Madam Gantang painfully shook her head at him. 

This reaction made Wanyan Jun laugh outright. His grip tightened further, the veins on the back of his hand bulging: “You don’t have time to think anymore.” 

Watching Madam Gantang’s breath grow weaker, Tang Rong finally shouted in panic: “We wanted to seize the Dragon Bone Warship!” 

Wanyan Jun abruptly released his grip, and Madam Gantang collapsed onto the ground. It was over; everything was too late. Her vision went black, and the dual torment of mind and body overwhelmed her, causing her to faint. 

A thoughtful expression appeared on his face. This objective—he hadn’t expected it. 

All along, they had been fighting around Prince Ling’an, and upon arriving at Lidu Prefecture, they fell into a pattern of thought, blinded by a single leaf. They kept thinking about what clever methods the enemy would use to ultimately send off Prince Ling’an, ignoring the best solution right in front of them. 

The Dragon Bone Warship was originally designed for battle—an offensive mobile camp, a defensive fortress. If the Yucheng Army seized it, they could carve out a bloody path for Prince Ling’an and escort him directly to Jinling. 

No wonder Wanyan Puruo had instructed him to stop the launching ceremony. The Yucheng Army must have planned their ship seizure operation for that day. 

Thankfully, he had uncovered it! Otherwise, all the effort put into building the Dragon Bone Ship would have been wasted on someone else. 

Wanyan Jun felt both fear and relief. He quickly realized that the Yucheng Army would still be eyeing the Dragon Bone Ship. As long as they guarded the dockyard, they could definitely ambush them and wipe out the rebel forces in one fell swoop. 

“Take these two back to the dungeon—” His gaze swept over Tang Rong and Madam Gantang, paused for a moment, then added, “No, leave them at Wangxue Lodge instead, so the Yucheng Army doesn’t get suspicious. Guard this place well—no fly should be allowed in or out.” 

“Yes!” The soldiers acknowledged the order. 

Hearing this, Xie Queshan, who had been standing outside the courtyard wall listening intently, finally let out a sigh of relief. 

This seemingly very reasonable purpose had apparently deceived Wanyan Jun. 

Song Muchuan had come to him in a rush, asking him to help stage a performance. The Yucheng Army’s affairs couldn’t be concealed anymore, so they decided to play along with Wanyan Jun’s suspicions and draw all his forces to the Dragon Bone Ship. 

The launching ceremony was canceled, but the ship had to be blown up—with as many Qi soldiers on board as possible to achieve their goal. Though they couldn’t annihilate the entire army, weakening their forces would give them an advantage in future battles since the Yucheng Army was outnumbered. 

Tang Rong had been informed beforehand to play this painful ruse. But Madam Gantang was unaware—it was actually her role as the main actor. The more genuine her emotions, the more credible Tang Rong’s confession would seem. 

Xie Queshan felt sorry for his second sister, placing her in such a dangerous position. An ordinary woman might have been terrified, but the situation was dire, and there was no other choice. Though they had luckily fed false information to Wanyan Jun, Xie Queshan still felt powerless. It seemed he was always sacrificing himself and those around him, but it was a choice he had to make… Perhaps letting Nanyi leave was truly the best decision. 

These were the final days; he had to retain Wanyan Jun’s trust and not let all their efforts go to waste. If he could gather some intelligence ahead of time, it would be crucial to the overall situation. Zhang Yuehui had bought them a few precious days, and within these days, he had to help Song Muchuan complete the final plan. 

At that moment, the cold midnight bell tolled faintly in the distance. 

The day before Operation Phoenix. 

— 

Zhang Yuehui lay on the bed, bored, thinking: Whether the Bingzhu Division succeeds or fails, what does it have to do with me? 

Knowing something is impossible yet doing it anyway—that’s a dead end. If a person isn’t capable, even the gods can’t save them. 

He was undoubtedly the biggest winner. He had distanced himself from the conflict, retreated unscathed, and even won the heart of a beautiful woman. 

What was there for him to lose sleep over? 

Yet he tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep, feeling uneasy as if something was about to happen. Fragments of memories flashed through his mind, half-dreaming and half-awake, as if the intervening years had disappeared. He returned to the old family home in Bianjing as usual. Pushing open the door, he saw wild grasses overtaking the familiar landscape, everything in decay. 

With a creak, the door suddenly burst open. Zhang Yuehui jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat. Just as he caught his breath, he heard Luo Ci’s anxious voice from outside the curtain. 

“Master, the Qi people are coming!” 

Zhang Yuehui tried to sit up with a quick movement, but one leg wouldn’t cooperate. Flustered and red-faced, he managed to get up and said impatiently: “If they’re catching up, prepare to run! What are you standing around here for?”

“Master, you’re injured and can’t endure the bumpy mountain roads. I think it would be better to disguise ourselves and take the main road.” 

“No, that’s too dangerous,” Zhang Yuehui immediately rejected. 

“But with your leg like this, you won’t be able to move quickly on any path… If we’re caught in the wilderness, our people won’t be able to reinforce us in time. Even if you don’t consider yourself, think of Lady Nanyi.” 

Zhang Yuehui fell silent for a moment. Luo Ci’s reasoning wasn’t without merit. The problem was that he was injured, holding them back. 

Luo Ci cautiously suggested, “Master, how about… splitting up? Let Lady Nanyi evacuate via the planned route while I escort you on the main road. We’ll meet up ahead in Xuping County.” 

“I definitely can’t go alone,” Nanyi said as she walked in carrying a bundle, interrupting their argument. 

Nanyi glanced at Luo Ci. “I need to stay by your master’s side. If I die, I’ll die with him, otherwise he’ll always think I’m running away.” 

Though Nanyi spoke casually with a touch of humor, her words made Zhang Yuehui blush. 

It made him sound like some kind of obsessive maniac, knowing the danger yet insisting on keeping her close. 

“Enough talk, Luo Ci. Arrange for Nanyi to leave first, and I’ll cover the rear. That’s final.” 

Heroics—everyone could play at that. 

Was he, Zhang Yuehui, really going to lose to someone like Wanyan Jun? 

“Don’t say things out of spite,” Nanyi said, rolling her eyes at him. “If you really let me go alone, I’ll just run off myself.” 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Zhang Yuehui replied confidently. 

Nanyi continued bantering with him, seemingly trying to ease the tense atmosphere of their parting: “Are you so sure?” 

“Do you have the heart to leave?” Zhang Yuehui suddenly looked up, his eyes wide with feigned hurt. 

“…” Nanyi was momentarily speechless. 

“Master, Lady Nanyi, we must get moving. Now is not the time for talk.” 

Leaning on his cane, Zhang Yuehui took a few difficult steps toward Nanyi, stopping in front of her. He reached out and gently stroked her face. 

“It’s only a day’s journey to Xuping County. Don’t miss me too much.” 

Unexpectedly, Nanyi didn’t brush his hand away as she usually did. With a mix of jest and seriousness, she looked at him and said, “You don’t miss me either. We’ll see each other again soon.” 

Zhang Yuehui grinned mischievously. “Why do you say it like we’ll never meet again?” 

A strange expression flickered across Nanyi’s face, but she quickly masked it with playful sarcasm: “I’m just afraid you’ll hold me back. Listen carefully—I’ll wait for you for one day, no more.” 

“If you’re late, I’ll wait for you until you come,” Zhang Yuehui replied softly. 

Nanyi froze. His words sounded insincere, yet somehow they felt genuine. 

Feeling flustered, she couldn’t respond. She slung her bundle over her shoulder and strode out boldly: “I’m leaving.” 

“Luo Ci, make sure she’s settled and send someone to escort her all the way.” 

“Yes, Master.” 

Luo Ci followed closely behind. 

In the stable, Luo Ci brought a horse for Nanyi and handed her a sheepskin map. 

“A’jiu set out from the cliffside observatory in Qingzhou and is almost at the border of Lidu Prefecture. If you take this shortcut, you might catch up with him within half a day.” 

Nanyi took the map and tucked it into her sleeve. Together with Luo Ci, she had deceived Zhang Yuehui. 

Luo Ci had come to her earlier, telling her that A’jiu had uncovered critical intelligence about Operation Phoenix, but their master had no intention of intervening. Luo Ci bluntly expressed his hope that Nanyi would leave their master. She had her own patriotic duty, but their master was not on the same path as her. 

In Lidu Prefecture were Nanyi’s lover, friends, and countless innocent civilians. If Operation Phoenix failed, everyone would die. She couldn’t stand idly by; she had to intercept A’jiu before he entered Lidu Prefecture. 

She didn’t want to judge whether Zhang Yuehui was a good or bad person—his decisions were understandable. People acted out of self-interest. And regardless, he had genuinely cared for her. When she agreed to go with him, she truly intended to spend the rest of her life with him. But forced arrangements were inherently fragile. 

She was breaking her promise. From now on, she owed him. If they never met again, then in the next life—or the one after that—she would repay him bit by bit. 

“If I manage to kill A’jiu and return safely, that would be ideal. But if I don’t return, tell him I’m dead. Tell him not to wait, and to live happily for the rest of his life.” 

Nanyi mounted her horse and galloped away in a cloud of dust.