Chapter Sixty-Five: Lingering Fear (Combined Edition)

At the dinner table, Hua Wuqian inquired of Qiao Feng about the situations in the three cities of Yun, Yu, and Tai. Qiao Feng answered each point in turn.

Decades ago, after the Five Great Villains were imprisoned on Villain Island, four new great villains emerged in the martial world. Ranked first was Duan Yanqing, whose evil deeds knew no bounds. Next was Ye Erniang, notorious for her wickedness. Third was Yue Laosan, a fiend known also by the moniker “Crocodile God of the South Sea.” Fourth was Yun Zhonghe, infamous for his depravity, particularly his lustful nature.

These four villains committed heinous acts in the martial world, earning the scorn and pursuit of all. In recent years, they joined Western Xia and were greatly valued, becoming the core of the newly established Western Xia First Rank Hall, a body tasked with managing affairs between the imperial court and the martial world. This institution was, in essence, a Western Xia counterpart to the Eastern Depot.

The recent atrocities in the three cities were orchestrated by the Western Xia First Rank Hall. The Western Xia invasion focused less on stealing grain and treasure and more on seizing people, which was the primary reason the cities had become so desolate.

Qiao Feng recounted all manner of intelligence. Hua Wuqian listened quietly, and before long, the threads of the recent events became clear in his mind.

With the answers to his concerns in hand, Hua Wuqian relaxed and began to drink with Qiao Feng—something he never would have done in the past. However, Tie Xinlan was soon to give birth, and regardless of whether it was to a son or daughter, Hua Wuqian felt he should change. Though naturally aloof, he had to admit the truth in the saying, “More friends, more paths.” If Zhu Yu were to learn of this, he would surely mock Hua Wuqian’s attempt at making friends, questioning whether he was even capable.

After all, in over twenty years of life, Hua Wuqian had only ever made two friends—one had become his wife, the other his sworn brother. Still, his intentions were good.

As for Qiao Feng, though they hadn’t known each other long, there was something about him—an innate charisma—that made one believe here was a true friend worth having.

What followed, however, was quite unexpected. Hua Wuqian had always thought highly of his own drinking capacity, but soon he felt the wine’s effect. Meanwhile, Qiao Feng remained lively and unperturbed, drinking as if it were water, pouring glass after glass.

Seeing Qiao Feng ready to pour more, Hua Wuqian waved his hand in surrender. Qiao Feng burst out laughing, “Brother Hua, your drinking needs work! But you’re a good man, someone I take a liking to. Let’s drink as brothers. If you ever need anything, send word to the Beggar Sect. I can’t promise you the world, but if it’s within my power, I’ll never stand idly by.”

On any other day, Hua Wuqian would have taken such words as little more than jest, but now he was drunk...

“I... actually do have something,” he slurred.

Qiao Feng’s brow arched, amused at his forthrightness—just the kind of honesty he liked. “Very well! Speak, brother. Let’s see if I can help.”

With drunken candor, Hua Wuqian recounted the story of his father Jiang Feng, himself, and Xiao Yuer, ultimately asking Qiao Feng to use the Beggar Sect’s influence to search for his last enemy—Jiang Qin, the servant from his father’s past.

Enraged by the tale, Qiao Feng thundered, “Such villainy from the Palace of Shifting Flowers! Rest assured, brother, I’ll see to this myself. Leave me your address—if there’s news, I’ll send for you.”

Half-conscious, Hua Wuqian gave his new address in the capital. As men, he and Xiao Yuer could not remain in the imperial palace indefinitely, so they had bought a house in the city, where he now lived with Tie Xinlan and Xiao Yuer.

...

Three days later, in Western Xia.

After a long period in hiding, the agents of the Eastern Depot received word from the Western Depot. Remembering their orders, a bloodthirsty smile played on their lips.

The Eastern and Western Depots were about to cooperate for the first time in years. Of course, though working together on the same mission, each side sought to outdo the other in results.

This suited Zhu Yu just fine, but for the kingdom of Western Xia, a nightmare was about to descend.

...

In the capital, Zhu Yu had just received a report from Duan Tianya when Hua Wuqian, newly returned, brought him the details of the events in the three cities.

Zhu Yu’s anger flared. After Hua Wuqian left, he summoned the Minister of War to discuss the possibility of attacking Western Xia.

The Minister of War immediately objected, “Your Majesty, such an attack would be unwise in the extreme.”

Still fuming, Zhu Yu snapped, “And why not? Western Xia is a mere speck—if we prepare well, their destruction is only a matter of time.”

“Your Majesty, if only Western Xia and Jing were in play, I would have long since petitioned for war. But that is not the case. Western Xia’s territory is easily defended and difficult to attack. Should we mobilize, both Mongolia and Khitan will not stand idle. Only Wuguo is too wracked with internal chaos to intervene; otherwise, we would already be at war.

At present, the nations are in a delicate balance. Jing, at the heart of the Central Plains, is rich and has the world’s finest infantry, making us a cause for concern to all. If not for our lack of horses and weak cavalry, compounded by each nation’s internal troubles, we would not have enjoyed peace for so long.

Western Xia, on the other hand, is famed for its horses. Should we even appear to move against them, the other nations would sense an opportunity, and chaos would ensue. I beg Your Majesty to reconsider!”

“Enough. You may withdraw,” Zhu Yu said, rubbing his temples.

Truth be told, Zhu Yu’s impulse to attack Western Xia had been born of anger. In the larger scheme, he understood the situation. Western Xia dared act with such impunity only because Jing would not risk a full-scale war.

It was curious, this world. Despite so many familiar countries, its history diverged utterly from his previous life. A thousand years ago, a single mightly state, Wu, ruled all. Unlike the Qin of the past, Wu produced five generations of debauched monarchs, each more tyrannical than the last. Uprisings abounded, and the land was plunged into centuries of war.

During those chaotic times, not only did grandmasters emerge and die on the battlefield, but the land was so ravaged that eventually, no one had the strength to fight on. Only with repeated foreign invasions did the states unite against outsiders, bringing an end to the wars.

Even so, Wu remained a major power, testament to its ancient strength. Now, under enlightened rule, Wu sought to restore its glories, but was thwarted by the unexpected rise of Xiongba, who dashed those hopes.

Reflecting on this, Zhu Yu conceived a cunning plan. He could not attack Western Xia, but could provoke them to attack him.

In his view, the martial world was key. Jing’s strength was checked by many, but the martial factions were idle, and Western Xia’s only formidable assets were a single woman in the palace, Li Qiushui, and the First Rank Hall. The rest were negligible.

What he needed was an excuse to draw the attention of the martial world to Western Xia. If enough martial artists flocked there, chaos would follow. The mere thought of the coming disaster pleased Zhu Yu.

Then, Jing need only shoulder the blame, telling Western Xia, “See how miserable you are? All my doing—what will you do about it?” For the sake of pride, Western Xia would have to strike back.

Should they do so, Jing would have the advantage, especially in defense. Western Xia’s cavalry was famous, though not on par with Khitan or Mongol riders, but still its greatest strength. As for their infantry? Jing cared little for anyone else’s foot soldiers.

Any Western Xia offensive would favor Jing. Moreover, martial world turmoil would surely force Western Xia to send troops to suppress the chaos, suffering casualties in the process. Martial artists were notoriously vengeful, and Western Xia would henceforth live in fear of their retaliation.

If all went as planned, even if Western Xia were not destroyed, it would be gravely weakened. As only Jing bordered them, Western Xia might be forced to submit, giving Jing the horses it lacked. With ample resources, population, and unrivaled infantry, Zhu Yu believed Jing could stand against all others—at least defensively, for three to five years at most.

Now the question was, what event could attract the attention of all the martial factions to Western Xia?

...

It had to be significant. Western Xia, after all, was a nation; a few minor disturbances would barely scratch the surface.

With that, Zhu Yu furrowed his brow and fell into deep thought.

...

Ten days later.

The agents of the Eastern and Western Depots returned from Western Xia—few in number, and all wounded. Led by Ma Jinliang of the Western Depot, for Iron Eagle of the Eastern Depot had perished in Western Xia.

The news shocked Zhu Yu: was Western Xia so formidable, or were his agents simply too weak?

He immediately summoned Cao Zhengchun and Yu Huatian to the palace for questioning.

Sitting on the throne, battle reports from both Depots in hand, Zhu Yu was left speechless for a long time.

At last, he gazed searchingly at his ministers. “I’ll give you one more chance. Can you guarantee every word in these reports is true—no exaggeration?”

With utmost gravity, Cao Zhengchun and Yu Huatian swore that not a single word was false.

After repeated questioning, Zhu Yu’s hands trembled as he held the reports.

“Very well. You may go. Your rewards will be issued in a few days.”

Though Zhu Yu did not look up, the two understood—the words were meant for them, and they withdrew.

Alone in the imperial study, Zhu Yu shuddered, tossing the reports aside, his hair standing on end.

People always spoke of the cruelty of the Eastern and Western Depots, but Zhu Yu had never minded—so long as they got results, he cared not for their methods.

But today had changed his view. This was true ruthlessness.

The reports detailed their actions with chilling clarity. Upon receiving their orders, the agents thought nothing of rescue or confronting the First Rank Hall. They simply killed—targeting civilians, sparing only the elderly. After slaughtering two towns, Iron Eagle and Ma Jinliang met and decided that killing was too slow—so they resorted to poison. They poisoned wells and rivers, and Western Xia’s death toll soared.

Western Xia’s territory was small, and news traveled quickly. At first, they thought it was Jing’s reprisal and believed that withstanding two attacks would suffice. But as casualties mounted, panic spread.

Li Qiushui led the counterattack, with the Four Villains and the First Rank Hall in support, hunting down the agents. The Eastern and Western Depot agents were preparing to return when they clashed with Western Xia's forces. In the ensuing battle, Li Qiushui and Duan Yanqing’s side won resoundingly. Ma Jinliang escaped from Duan Yanqing, while Iron Eagle was killed by Li Qiushui.

But the results were what mattered. The death toll in Western Xia, according to the report in Zhu Yu’s hands, had reached nearly one-fifth of the population.

Though few soldiers or members of the First Rank Hall were killed, the sheer number—most of them women and children—was horrifying.

To put it plainly, repeat this five times and Western Xia would be wiped out—not just the royal family, but the entire people.

Zhu Yu’s reaction was understandable. He was not of this era; unlike ancient generals, who saw only cold numbers in reports, he could connect those numbers to real, bleeding lives.

Though he had never been to war, he had seen documentaries. The thought of one-fifth of Western Xia’s people—mostly women and children—perishing was monstrous.

Fortunately, he remembered that he himself had given the order for this reprisal. The results were beyond imagination; as for rewards, his mind was elsewhere, seized by a more pressing concern.

Was this not biological warfare? Would Western Xia retaliate in kind?