WNST - 137

Chapter 137: Night Banquet

“... Tang Rong will lead the reconnaissance unit into Hugu Mountain first, avoiding the sentries at Xiaoyang Gorge. They’ll take the narrow path at Eagle’s Beak Cliff to reach the rear of Luyang Town, where they’ll lie low in the valley. Once the vanguard engages the enemy, a signal of red wolf smoke will be given. At that point, the unit will launch a surprise attack on Luyang Town from behind, forcing the Qi forces to fight on two fronts and leaving them overwhelmed...” 

Standing before the sand table, Xie Queshan explained the troop deployment strategy with meticulous precision. Dressed impeccably and speaking without a trace of levity, he commanded attention. Nan Yi forced herself to focus, but his voice kept distracting her thoughts. 

Xie Queshan glanced at the reconnaissance unit, his eyes briefly meeting Nan Yi’s wandering gaze. He paused nonchalantly. 

“During the ambush, remember not to engage in direct combat. Use hit-and-run tactics—attack from multiple points, retreat when they turn around, and strike again once they let their guard down. Repeat this cycle until the enemy becomes complacent.” 

Tang Rong pondered for a moment, uncertainty flickering across his face. “This mission could last anywhere from five to ten days, possibly longer. Is the entire unit going?” 

What Tang Rong was really asking was whether Nan Yi would also join the mission. Although the reconnaissance unit consisted of familiar faces from the Yucheng army, and they had developed good chemistry during recent operations, Nan Yi was still a woman. Her physical stamina and ability to adapt to field conditions differed from the others. 

Nan Yi picked up on Tang Rong’s hesitation and bristled slightly. Survival in the mountains? That was her forte. 

“Yes, the entire unit is mobilized. Everyone must complete this mission together,” Xie Queshan replied firmly, not sparing Nan Yi a glance. 

Nan Yi straightened her back instantly, determination etched on her face. 

“Understood!” Tang Rong saluted and responded briskly. 

Tang Rong led the reconnaissance unit out immediately. Nan Yi hadn’t expected the departure to be so urgent—not even a moment to bid farewell privately. 

As she exited the tent, walking at the rear of the group, she locked eyes with Xie Queshan one last time. 

He gave her a gentle smile, filled with trust and affection. His unwavering confidence should have reassured her, yet she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she had forgotten something important. Glancing back, she saw him sitting alone in the tent, still wearing the same smile—he seemed genuinely happy. But how could he appear so calm and content before victory, given his usual cautious nature? 

The thought flitted through Nan Yi’s mind, and for a fleeting moment, she considered turning back to grab his hand and demand answers. But she quickly dismissed the idea as absurd—why shouldn’t he be happy? After enduring so much, wasn’t it natural to feel joy at the prospect of finally silencing their critics with a decisive victory? Just as she hesitated, the tent flap fell shut, blocking him from view. She could no longer see him.

Nan Yi caught up with the reconnaissance unit, her mind now firmly set as a soldier under orders. She couldn’t afford to let these distracting thoughts linger any longer. 

They soon began their arduous trek, spending several nights navigating through the untrodden thorny thickets of Hugu Mountain and scaling perilous cliffs—all to bypass enemy blockades and reach the rear of the Qi forces. 

Every step they took brought them closer to victory. 

This was the belief that kept Nan Yi going whenever she felt utterly exhausted. 

---

Jinling (Capital City) 

Just before the palace gates were locked for the night, Qiujie finally emerged from the palace. For some reason, Princess Xu Kouyue had been summoning her frequently in recent days to keep her company. Perhaps it was because the Xie family in Lidu Prefecture had done so much for the dynasty, and Qiujie’s household was the only branch of the Xie clan left in Jinling. The princess seemed to favor her greatly. 

Most of their conversations revolved around lighthearted topics like poetry and romance, but Qiujie occasionally probed about the situation on the front lines. Xu Kouyue, however, would casually slip in questions about Qiujie’s father, Xie Zhu—what he’d been busy with lately, whom he’d been meeting. 

At first glance, these questions seemed like harmless small talk, but Qiujie had already been uneasy about certain things recently. Now, these words lodged themselves deep in her heart. 

She sensed that the princess might not trust her father. 

Could this be the emperor’s intention as well? 

The carriage rattled through the labyrinthine streets of Jinling, carrying her home as dusk settled over the city. 

As she passed through the front courtyard, she noticed that her father was hosting a banquet tonight in the Yaohua Garden. Her father was now a highly respected figure in Jinling, and their home had become a hub of constant activity, with guests coming and going without pause. Marriage proposals for Qiujie were not uncommon, and hosting banquets had become routine. 

What struck Qiujie as odd, however, was the unusual number of servants guarding the perimeter of the Yaohua Garden tonight. 

Her suspicions, which had started as a trickle, quickly swelled into a flood. A traitor within one’s own household was hard to guard against, but if one was determined, sneaking close wasn’t impossible. Almost involuntarily, Qiujie’s footsteps led her toward a secluded grove of dense foliage. Hidden from view, she peered through the intricate lattice windows into the garden, where the night banquet was in full swing. 

Xie Zhu sat at the head of the table, with seven men seated below him. Their ages varied, but judging by their attire and demeanor, they were likely nobles or high-ranking officials. Qiujie recognized two of them as frequent visitors to their home—former ministers from Jiangnan—but the others were unfamiliar faces. 

Qiujie’s heart raced, pounding in her throat. Though she was in her own home, the act of eavesdropping made her legs tremble with fear. Just as she was about to leave, thinking she hadn’t uncovered anything suspicious, a voice suddenly rang out like thunder, freezing her in place. 

“No matter how many calculations we made, we never expected that Lord Xie’s nephew was hiding so deeply. We thought he was one of us! All those critical pieces of intelligence slipped right into his hands and ended up fueling Bingzhu Division’s operations!” 

Qiujie’s feet rooted themselves to the spot. 

“Though Lidu Prefecture suffered a crushing defeat and General Wanyan lost his campaign, thanks to Princess Xu’s brilliant maneuvering, using Xie Queshan’s identity to our advantage, the current situation is clear: as long as he remains in Lidu Prefecture, the court will never send reinforcements. But if he leaves, the defense of the city is doomed. Lidu Prefecture is already ours for the taking!” 

“To our success thus far, much credit goes to Master Da Man. If it weren’t for your efforts in brokering deals here in Jinling, we wouldn’t have been able to turn the tide so swiftly.” One of the men raised his cup in a toast to Xie Zhu. 

“But I heard that Lord Zhang, the former son-in-law, has gone to Lidu Prefecture. Could His Majesty still have some last-ditch plan?” The speaker’s voice was sharp and piercing; seated to Xie Zhu’s left, he appeared to be a high-ranking eunuch from the palace. 

Xie Zhu’s eyes darkened momentarily as he raised his cup to drink. “How many members of the Xie family have died serving him? If he were capable of turning the tide, none of us would be sitting here today.” 

Qiujie leaned against the wall, struggling to steady herself. Every word she heard shattered her understanding of her father. 

Yet, in that moment, her mind raced with clarity, piecing together fragments of memories that had previously seemed disjointed. 

In the 21st year of Yongkang, her father, then an official in the court, had fervently advocated for war and pushed for reforms, only to face setbacks and be demoted. In public, he maintained the composed facade of a Confucian scholar, but behind closed doors, he drowned himself in alcohol, cursing the court in drunken fits—”With such a ruler, the dynasty is doomed.” 

It took him years to come to terms with his circumstances, eventually settling into a minor post overseeing the Ship Registry Office, where he idly discussed ideals with students, achieving little of note. To Qiujie, her father had always seemed unfulfilled, his calm exterior masking a deep sense of despair. Yet, he remained principled, refusing to curry favor or compromise his ideals. 

Then, three months before the fall of Bianjing in the 28th year of Yongkang, her father embarked on an official trip related to the Ship Registry Office. When he returned, the years of despondency that had weighed him down vanished entirely. 

At the time, Qiujie had thought he’d finally found some solace in his work, shedding his burdens and looking forward. Now, reflecting on it, perhaps that was when he had reached some agreement with the Qi forces. 

Later, she had accidentally glimpsed her father in secret talks with Wanyan Puruo at an ancient temple in Jinling. And on the night of Shen Zhizhong’s death, her father had stayed out all night—an unprecedented occurrence. 

All of this pointed to one chilling possibility. 

Qiujie finally understood why, after Sixth Sister’s death, her father had muttered those bitter words: “Useless fools.” He hadn’t been cursing her sister—he had been cursing the emperor. 

He wanted a stronger ruler. 

Qiujie turned and fled, the cold night wind of Jinling rushing past her like a torrent, threatening to sweep her away into deeper darkness. Ahead lay the River of Forgetfulness, where a sip of Meng Po’s soup could erase all memory, allowing her to return to a carefree, colorful dream. 

But she couldn’t forget. 

She had to remember every face at that banquet, every detail of what she had witnessed. Returning to her room, she spread out a sheet of paper, ground ink with trembling urgency, and picked up her brush, furiously sketching the scene onto the page. 

By noon the next day, a vivid depiction of the night banquet was complete. Without wasting a moment, she took the painting and rushed to the palace to see Princess Xu Kouyue. 

As she stood at the palace gates, waiting for a eunuch to announce her arrival, a fast horse carrying urgent dispatches to Lidu Prefecture galloped past her, its rider still bearing the faint scent of fresh ink from the imperial study.

History was passing by in a fleeting, almost accidental manner. 

--- 

Under the shade of the trees, Nan Yi jolted awake, her heart pounding so heavily it felt as though her limbs were pinned to the ground. 

After days of arduous travel, they had finally reached the hill behind Luyang Town, waiting for the agreed-upon signal to launch their surprise attack on the town and flank the Qi forces with reinforcements. For now, all they could do was wait and rest. During a brief shift change, Nan Yi had dozed off under a tree. 

But in that hazy moment, it felt as though she were trapped in a nightmare. She was aware—she knew she was in the perilous mountains, knew she was asleep—but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t move. Then, suddenly, she saw Xie Queshan walking toward her. 

“Wake up,” he said. “The battle is about to begin.” 

She tried to speak, but her mouth wouldn’t open. Before she could react, Xie Queshan turned and walked away. Panic surged through her. “Wait for me!” 

It was as if she were sinking into thick, invisible mud—the more she struggled, the deeper she sank. Suddenly, a sharp, real pain gripped her heart, and she snapped awake, drenched in cold sweat. 

Around her, the mountains remained silent, save for the increasingly shrill cries of cicadas. The soldiers from the reconnaissance unit rested in small groups, and still, there was no news from the front lines. 

For some inexplicable reason, Nan Yi’s mind drifted back to a minor detail. She vaguely remembered Xie Queshan whispering something to her in the tent that night after their intimate encounter. But she had been so exhausted then, too tired to even process his words. 

What had he said? 

It shouldn’t have mattered—what significance could words spoken in such a moment hold? Yet, ever since they had crossed the mountains and moved farther away from Lidu Prefecture, strange and unsettling thoughts had begun to gnaw at her day and night. 

Perhaps it stemmed from that sudden, unexpected intimacy. He had seemed to forget his pain too quickly, acting carefree in a way that was utterly unlike him. 

The most agonizing thing was remembering only half of something. Her heart began to race as she racked her brain, pacing toward the edge of the cliff in hopes that the mountain breeze would clear her mind. 

The signal hadn’t come yet. Could he have deceived her again? What if the reinforcements weren’t coming? 

Had he sent her away because Lidu Prefecture was about to fall? 

The thought sent a wave of despair crashing over her. The ground beneath her feet felt insubstantial, as though each step might plunge her into an abyss. She didn’t want to believe it, but worry clouded her mind as she gazed into the distance. 

Then, Nan Yi’s entire body shuddered. 

From the lush forests of the distant valley, a towering column of red wolf smoke rose into the sky! 

“Red wolf smoke!” she nearly screamed. 

It had finally come—it was the signal to begin the battle. The reinforcements had arrived! He hadn’t lied to her!