Chapter 388: Exhausting the Three Armies

Chapter 388: Exhausting the Three Armies

As expected, the old nun's hand slid from Xianjin's face down to her neck.

Her aged fingers grazed the carotid artery.

In the silent space, Xianjin could hear two pounding heartbeats.

Xianjin's hands were behind her back, her eyes wide open, alertly staring at the old nun, but her peripheral vision darted around.

Perhaps to avoid drawing attention, the carriage was narrow and cramped, and with just a glance, everything was visible. The old nun was thin, her clothes loose, her narrow sleeves clinging to her withered wrists, revealing no hidden items.

Xianjin saw no gleam of weapons.

Due to her poor night vision, in the pitch-black enclosed space, Xianjin's hearing was more acute.

She could only hear the sound of the small carriage's wheels turning.

There was no one else around.

This meant that, at least for the moment, the old nun wasn't going to kill her.

Xianjin tightly gripped the ruby and sapphire dagger in her sleeve. Under the faint glow, she scrutinized the old nun again—though not clearly, she could see that the old nun was very thin, sitting unsteadily in the carriage, as if she might fall with the next bump.

Xianjin compared their builds and strength, certain that in a violent conflict, she could easily overpower her like autumn wind sweeping fallen leaves.

But she wasn't planning to do that.

With a lowered gaze, Xianjin immediately leaned back in fear, attempting to evade the old nun's withered hand, her frightened eyes turning to Feng Yuanyuan.

Xianjin's gaze was too intense with a plea for help.

Feng Yuanyuan, as if struck, immediately woke up, reaching out to grab the old nun's wrist, whispering sharply, "Aunt! They... they want her alive! Think of the Lu family!"

The old nun's hand paused, her eyes dark, slowly retracting her right hand.

Feng Yuanyuan let out a long sigh, turning to Xianjin, "I saved you once, consider it as fulfilling our friendship."

Xianjin: ? You really know how to balance the books.

For the rest of the journey, the three faced each other, no one speaking.

The carriage jolted and swayed, and Xianjin closed her eyes, falling asleep in no time.

Feng Yuanyuan was dumbfounded, "She, she just fell asleep like that?"

The old nun's gaze was obscure, "She does resemble her aunt." After a pause, she sneered, "Not like her mother."

...

The journey was bumpy, passing through bushes and forests, avoiding main roads and passing caravans, heading north from a remote valley, the sky turning from pitch black to dimly lit, then night fell again, the surroundings silent.

A day and a night, without stopping.

Not just Xianjin, even Feng Yuanyuan was drowsy, waking and dreaming intermittently.

Only the old nun, her eyes bright, like a nearly spent oil lamp, the flame flickering high but revealing signs of decay.

Xianjin: ...This woman always gives off a crazy vibe, as if she's going to die after this job.

On the second night, squeezing through a pitch-black, winding cave entrance, they were abruptly met with a blaze of light.

They arrived at a hidden outpost concealed within the mountains.

At the entrance of the outpost stood two towering braziers, their roaring flames lighting up the pitch-black sky.

Xianjin instinctively squinted her eyes, peering out through the flapping carriage curtain. Beyond the braziers, about three meters away, stood a sentry. The outpost was built against the mountain, following the winding ancient Great Wall, resembling the smooth curve of a scimitar's back—its treacherous terrain acting as a natural barrier.

A faint briny dampness hung in the air.

As the carriage entered the outpost, the horse whinnied and came to a stop at the intersection. Xianjin, flanked by Feng Yuanyuan and the old nun, stepped out of the carriage and followed a black-clad figure who had been waiting at the crossroads. Soon, they arrived at a pavilion hidden at the center of the outpost.

The black-clad figure gestured for them to ascend.

Xianjin's hands were still bound behind her back, and her mouth remained gagged with a black cloth. Due to the long carriage ride, her steps were unsteady, alternating between light and heavy as she climbed the stairs. After passing a screen, Xianjin finally saw the person she had been brought to meet.

Xianjin had never seen him before.

But her intuition told her it was him.

The black-clad figure removed the gag from her mouth and the blindfold from her eyes.

Xianjin lowered her head and blinked hard.

The man's voice emerged from the darkness: "Finally, I meet you."

The room slowly came alive with the glow of firelight.

Xianjin finally raised her gaze.

Across from her sat a middle-aged man with slightly slouched shoulders and an average build, his hands resting casually on the armrests of his chair.

Xianjin opened her mouth: "Emperor Zhaode, is it?"

The man slowly shook his head and, after a pause, said, "You should call me uncle."

Someone beside him offered tea, pastries, and a smaller armchair.

Xianjin twisted her wrists, stretched her stiff neck from the long ride, and calmly and confidently took a seat. She sipped the tea and let out a satisfied sigh: "Ah, hot water feels so good. All I had on the road was cold water and dry bread."

Emperor Zhaode smiled, leaning forward slightly, his face finally appearing in the light: "You've had quite the journey."

Xianjin looked at the face that bore a five or six out of ten resemblance to the former emperor and the current Lord Xiaowang, and smiled: "It was tough. A day and a night on the road, with no proper food or sleep. The only time I could get off the carriage was to relieve myself and stretch my legs."

Using the restroom was the only time she escaped the old nun's watchful eye.

At all other times, that woman was like a spotlight, practically trying to bore holes through her with her gaze.

Xianjin glanced around and asked with familiarity and ease: "Since we left Wanguo Temple, the carriage has been heading southeast. Are we now within the boundaries of Jincheng Prefecture? This place is well-hidden. I didn't grow up in the Capital City, so I had no idea there were such rugged mountains and..."

Xianjin looked out the window: "And such solidly built fortresses nearby."

Emperor Zhaode followed Xianjin's gaze.

From their elevated position, they could see the vast sea in the distance.

"This place used to be called Tangjia Fort. Beyond lies the Bohai Bay. From here, one can travel in all directions—north, south, east, or west. You can reach Jiaozhou Bay nearby, head north to Russia, or south to India. This fortress was built back when Goguryeo was still around."

Emperor Zhaode spoke at a leisurely pace, a playful expression on his face: "You're different from what I imagined. Smarter and calmer, far superior to your father—how did you know this is Jincheng Prefecture? Did Bai'an make you memorize maps?"

Xianjin shook her head: "During the Baiduo Rebellion, eighty percent of the refugees from both regions stormed the Capital City from Jinzhou Prefecture. On the eve of the siege, the official on duty in Jinzhou Prefecture hanged himself at home—this is the only suspicious point in the Baiduo Rebellion."

"It's not hard to guess: perhaps your stronghold is not in Hebei, nor in the Capital City, but in this small but strategically located Jinzhou Prefecture." Xianjin clasped her hands in front of her, speaking with calm authority.

Emperor Zhaode leaned back: "Do you also believe I orchestrated the Baiduo Rebellion?"

Xianjin remained silent.

Emperor Zhaode finally stopped smiling, his expression tinged with anger: "Hah, the famine was real, the botched relief efforts were real, the refugees were real, and their desperation was real—what does any of that have to do with me!?"

"Your father, my elder brother, was indecisive and hesitant. He kept putting off the petition from the Shandong Provincial Administration, which warned of a major disaster due to drought and requested special funds for prevention and response. He turned a minor disaster into a full-blown epidemic! A small problem into a catastrophe!"

"And when the famine and refugee crisis spiraled out of control, my brother sent officials who were book-smart but had no real-world experience to Shandong for emergency response!—What could they do!? Write poems to cheer people up or paint pictures to record the chaos!?"

Emperor Zhaode's eyes turned dark and piercing as he stared at Xianjin: "A bad general gets the whole army killed! Your father ignored family rules and had no clue how to handle state matters! Why shouldn't I take his place!?"

"Just because my mother was a seventh-rank beauty, and his was the empress?"