Chapter 33: Seeds of Suspicion

Moreover, untying Tang Sanjian would easily invite a sudden, violent retaliation.

"Just do as I say," Xiao Zhi replied.

He paced to the side, casting another look at the corpses. He beckoned for a chiliarch to approach. "For the fallen and the wounded, see to it that the pensions are handled according to the established protocols. We must not default on the debt of human lives."

Ever since the plan to leave the capital was finalized, Xiao Zhi had made arrangements ensuring compensation for both the dead and the wounded. In the event of a fatality, the pension would provide for the soldier's family for twenty years without worry. Only through such measures could these men be expected to risk their lives for him.

"You are really letting me go?" Tang Sanjian stood up, his frame hunched and his gait unsteady.

"Haven't I already untied you?" Xiao Zhi waved his hand. "Go quickly, before I change my mind."

Using his blade as a crutch, Tang Sanjian headed toward the main road.

Xiao Zhi called out from behind him, "Do me a favor and ask Lord Song a question: If I were to serve as a general under him, would my troops be paid their full rations?"

The words were meant for Tang Sanjian to hear. Once a seed of doubt is planted, a person will naturally seek opportunities for it to sprout. Xiao Zhi did not know if the death of Tang Sanjian’s family had anything to do with Song Qi, but as long as the seed of suspicion was sown, it was enough. Whenever the opportunity arose, Tang Sanjian would seek the truth. And the moment he did, Song Qi would inevitably doubt Tang Sanjian's loyalty. With their mutual trust fractured by suspicion, they would drift apart, and in time, Tang Sanjian’s defection would become a natural outcome. This was an overt scheme.

"Do not concern yourself with the affairs of a lowly man, and spare me your devious mind," Tang Sanjian spat, refusing to show gratitude.

"If you ever come to your senses, come find me to be your guard, and I will help you exact your revenge."

Tang Sanjian didn't look back. "No need. Next time, I will surely kill you. I hope there is someone left to avenge you."

Xiao Zhi merely smiled, unbothered. He did not care whether Tang Sanjian believed him now. Even if he didn't, Xiao Zhi could ensure he eventually would.

Xiao Zhi turned to Mu Weihu. "Change direction. We head to Henan first, then circle around to Shandong."

Why head to Henan? First, to vanish his hundred-man squad from the public eye; second, because that was Tang Sanjian’s home province. Two hundred miles to the north lay a valley. Once they bypassed it, Xiao Zhi and his men would break into smaller groups of three or five and disappear from the horizon.

Time flew by; seven days passed in the blink of an eye.

***

In an unremarkable teahouse in the East Market, the "good-natured" Lu Weicheng was leisurely savoring his tea and pastries. Sitting before him was the Junior Minister of the Court of Foreign Affairs.

"My lord, have you heard?"

"Heard what?" Lu Weicheng popped a snack into his mouth and lifted his tea bowl to savor the aroma.

Ever since the incident where Xiao Zhi whipped the Northern Barbarian envoy, Lu Weicheng had become indifferent to life and death; nothing was more important than enjoying the present. His life had become increasingly relaxed. He no longer aspired to promotion, nor did he care to amass wealth. He had his elderly mother to support, filial children, and grandchildren playing at his feet. Every day, aside from the trivialities of his official duties, he spent his time humming tunes, carrying his birdcage, tasting tea, occasionally visiting the music halls or brothels, or teaching his young grandson calligraphy at home. His eldest grandson was already fifteen, betrothed, and ready to marry after the new year; he expected a great-grandson to be born the year after. Five generations under one roof—that was a great blessing. This was the life of an immortal.

The Junior Minister lowered his voice. "Xiao Zhi arrived at the border city and purged sixteen corrupt officials. None were spared—not even their dogs or chickens."

"Oh my, wouldn't that mean all the local officials are dead?" Lu Weicheng remarked casually. This had nothing to do with him—would it affect his bird-walking or tea-sipping? Would it affect him unfastening the bodice of Xiao Cui at the Mandarin Duck Pavilion?

"That butcher Xiao Zhi is a madman. Killing a few people is routine for him, but the problem is, there are now two Xiao Zhis."

"What?" Lu Weicheng was bewildered. Wasn't one madman enough? How did another appear?

"The news came from the palace. A group appeared in Henan, killing several chiliarchs. These men claim to be from the Imperial City Guard, and their leader is none other than Xiao Zhi."

"Thousands of miles apart—how could Xiao Zhi appear in two places at once?" Lu Weicheng asked, genuinely intrigued.

The Junior Minister clicked his tongue. "Indeed. I suspect some people won't be sleeping well tonight."

Indeed, someone was struggling to sleep, though it was not Shi Weigong as the Junior Minister suspected, but Song Qi. In a secret chamber within the Song residence, Song Qi studied the intelligence report in his hands. Opposite him sat Song Lian, whose face was ghastly, for the three chiliarchs killed had all been his protégés.

"Xiao Zhi appearing in two places at once—what do you make of it?"

Song Lian was silent. Judging by the carrier pigeon reports, the one in Henan was undoubtedly Xiao Zhi, but the group was masked, and no one had actually seen his face.

"Xiao Zhi bypassed the border city and launched a thousand-mile raid on Henan. This… goes against logic," Song Qi said. "Our men chased him all the way to the border city, only to hear reports of his house-raiding and killings, yet they never found his trail. This is abnormal."

"I believe the one in Henan is not Xiao Zhi," Song Lian stated.

"Why do you say that?"

Song Lian explained, "At the border, the house-raiding and clan-wiping—that is classic Xiao Zhi behavior. In Henan, they killed a few chiliarchs and then vanished without a trace."

Song Qi nodded. "True. What is Xiao Zhi’s objective?"

A chiliarch is neither here nor there. In the eyes of the imperial court, they are nothing. Xiao Zhi wouldn't bother killing such inconsequential people.

"That group simply wanted to kill a few chiliarchs and used Xiao Zhi’s name as a cover," Song Lian concluded.

Song Qi desperately wanted to doubt that this was Xiao Zhi’s doing, but he needed a reason. "Henan..." Song Qi mused. "Who would act like this? This is clearly aimed at you."

"Could it be..." Song Lian looked up at Song Qi.

Song Qi’s eyes narrowed. "Tang Sanjian failed, yet he did not kill Tang Sanjian to silence him."

Song Lian shook his head. "No, no. Tang Sanjian is loyal to the Song family."

"Loyalty? Who can prove that?" Song Qi countered. "That affair back then—was it not you who traded righteousness for petty profit, nearly causing a mutiny over a pittance of rations?"

Song Lian slammed the table. "Because of those rations, my Song family has reached where we are today! Are these not the very rations that were accumulated bit by bit?"

Song Qi sighed and waved a hand in resignation. "Enough. Find someone to investigate what is happening. If it truly is Tang Sanjian, he cannot be allowed to live. Also, our men have tracked him the whole way but found nothing. Could he have planted a mole near us? Someone who knew our movements in advance?"

Song Qi knew Tang Sanjian’s combat prowess all too well; if he had turned, he could not be left alive. Over the years, against the most difficult opponents and in the darkest of deeds, Tang Sanjian had never failed—until this encounter with Xiao Zhi. And yet, this single failure had led to such a catastrophe.

In the imperial palace, Qin Yong was reading a briefing.

"The border city—I can rest easy now. The Twelfth Prince has cultivated a fierce general for me."

The Twelfth Prince, who had no desire for imperial power his entire life, loved beauties, music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, and had fathered over forty sons. He was the most eccentric among the late emperor’s brothers. Among his forty-odd sons, one was exceptionally brave and skilled in martial arts: Qin Chuan. It was not strange, really; out of forty sons, one was bound to be decent.

Qin Chuan was not just decent; he was outstanding. By his thirtieth year, he had already achieved great military renown, and Qin Yong had bestowed upon him the title of General Who Protects the State. Had he not insisted on staying at the border, Qin Yong would have long since summoned him back to the capital to serve as a powerful pillar in the court.

Qin Chuan did not disappoint. Using Xiao Zhi’s name, he had seized the opportunity to wipe out the generals at the border who refused to submit to him, attributing the deeds to Xiao Zhi.

"Your Majesty, an urgent dispatch from Henan, marked four hundred miles."

Hu Bao trotted over, presenting a large parcel.