Murong Ziheng watched the Empress's carriage drive away, a fleeting stiffness in his smile that quickly vanished. He couldn't understand, utterly couldn't comprehend, what Murong Shengrui was so fixated on, or what it was about Xiao Man that made him pursue her relentlessly.
Could it be that he intended to use Xiao Man to take down Lanyue without bloodshed? But Xiao Man wasn't foolish; how could she hand over Lanyue's empire on a silver platter?
"What exactly do you want to do?"
"His Highness, the Prince of Song." A voice came from behind. As Murong Ziheng turned, someone bumped into him, thrust a piece of paper into his hand, and quickly departed.
Murong Ziheng opened the note. It contained an address. After a moment of hesitation, Murong Ziheng finally followed the address on the paper.
On a small vermilion gate, a fearsome-looking door god was pasted, its claws extended in a terrifying pose. Murong Ziheng frowned and turned to leave, but the door creaked open.
"Esteemed guest, my master is expecting you."
Murong Ziheng’s foot, already stepping forward, retracted. He turned to look at the child standing at the doorway. The child had two pigtails pointing skyward. Seeing Murong Ziheng remain still, the child spoke crisply, "Please, come in, guest."
Murong Ziheng hesitated for a long moment before finally stepping inside. The vermilion gate closed behind him. The child nimbly bolted the door and led Murong Ziheng inward.
Upon entering, he saw Yelü Heng, the third prince of Beirong, sitting inside, drinking tea.
A flicker of surprise flashed in Yelü Heng's eyes: "Did you ask me to come?"
"This is our new guest," the child said, ushering Murong Ziheng to a seat and serving him hot tea. "Please wait here for a moment, esteemed guests. My master will arrive shortly."
Murong Ziheng and Yelü Heng exchanged glances, a wariness evident in their eyes. "Why would the Prince of Song come to such a remote place?"
"Naturally, I was invited."
Yelü Heng smiled faintly. "Indeed. Without an invitation, it's truly hard to find such a remote location. I wonder who this person is, who has invited us both."
"Prince Yelü, has your injury healed somewhat?" Murong Ziheng asked with mock concern.
Yelü Heng’s smile tightened, and his face immediately turned cold. "The Prince of Song shamelessly pursued her, yet she remained indifferent. Does the Prince of Song's face hurt?"
"'A fair lady is a treasure to the gentleman,'" Murong Ziheng replied calmly. "This humble prince has the right to admire, and she has the right to refuse. This humble prince is unlike some barbarians who only know how to snatch."
"In our Beirong, whatever we desire, we obtain through our own abilities – land, food, horses, even women. If we want something, we can get it with our own skill. Only those without ability say, 'a forced melon is not sweet,' because they cannot force it."
"Whether a forced melon is sweet or not, I do not know. But I have indeed seen those who tried to force a melon but failed, only to injure their own waist."
The two were locked in a verbal spar, neither willing to concede. In front of Xiao Man, neither of them had ever gained an advantage. Xiao Man was like a rose with thorns; anyone who dared to pick her would be left bleeding profusely.
"The culprit causing your displeasure is Xiao Man. You two esteemed guests should join forces." A man walked in slowly, a foxy smile on his face. Behind him followed a one-armed man whose face was swathed in bandages, obscuring his features. Only his eyes, sharp as a hawk's, made one uncomfortable.
"My surname is Tian, my given name is Hao. I have taken the liberty of inviting you both here today to conduct a transaction."
"What right do you have to negotiate with us?" Murong Ziheng asked coldly.
"Your Highness, the Prince of Song, are you familiar with the Scarlet Feather Iron Cavalry?"
Murong Ziheng's breath hitched. The reason he had agreed to Murong Shengrui's command to come to Lanyue was his knowledge that the Scarlet Feather Iron Cavalry had appeared in Lanyue. He wished to use their strength to contend with Murong Shengrui once more.
"The Scarlet Feather Iron Cavalry, I am naturally very familiar with them."
"Then my companion here, I assume, is also no stranger to you, Your Highness, the Prince of Song." Tian Hao pointed to the one-armed man beside him. "His surname is Yan, and his given name is Chi."
Yelü Heng and Murong Ziheng both stood up simultaneously, looking at Yan Chi with disbelief, as if trying to discern Yan Chi's original appearance from beneath the thick bandages.
Yan Chi's gaze was icy. He glanced coldly at Murong Ziheng. "Your Highness, the Prince of Song, it has been many years. I trust you are well."
Murong Ziheng swallowed. "Are you truly Yan Chi?"
"Yes."
"Your arm..."
Yan Chi looked at his arm, his expression complex. "This severed arm is courtesy of Xiao Man."
Yelü Heng slowly sat back down. He was aware of Yan Chi, the deputy commander of the Scarlet Feather Army. After all, it was this man who had slaughtered ten thousand of his Beirong soldiers in the past!
"General Yan, in the past, you massacred ten thousand of my Beirong soldiers. Did you ever imagine you would meet such a fate today?" Yelü Heng picked up his teacup and asked leisurely after taking a sip.
Yan Chi chuckled contemptuously. "Ten thousand? What is that? If my Marshal hadn't stopped me, this general could have wiped out your entire Beirong!"
"Such arrogance." Yelü Heng was enraged but managed to suppress it. Yan Chi was a formidable individual. With his assistance, revenge for Xiao Man's humiliation would be within reach. "Unfortunately, your master is gone, and you are now a mad dog without a leash..."
Yan Chi moved like lightning, appearing before Yelü Heng and reaching out to grab his throat. Yelü Heng quickly raised his hand to block, but the hot tea in his hand, upon collision, splashed onto his face, not a drop remaining.
Yan Chi slowly stepped back. Yelü Heng, his face in disarray, slammed his fist on the table after a moment. "You, man named Tian, invited me here only to humiliate me?"
"Third Prince, please calm yourself." Tian Hao gestured for Yelü Heng to be composed. "As I said earlier, we are not enemies."
"But we are not friends either."
"There is an old saying: 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend.'" Tian Hao's smile was chilling and spectral. "And we have a common enemy."
"A common enemy?"
"Yes, a common enemy: the Empress of Lanyue, Xiao Man."
Murong Ziheng returned to his seat and picked up his teacup, pretending to drink tea. He harbored no animosity towards Xiao Man. Even though Xiao Man had publicly rejected him, he held no grudge. To seek an irreconcilable conflict with someone merely for rejection would be too narrow-minded and despicable.
A clear hint of wavering appeared in Yelü Heng's eyes, but he did not admit it. "You jest. This prince is hardly an enemy of Xiao Man."
"Third Prince, are you truly not her enemy?" Tian Hao asked softly. "Xiao Man, with the Scarlet Feather Iron Cavalry, has seized three of your cities, yet you can still swallow that insult. The Third Prince truly possesses great magnanimity."