Chapter 159 As Heavy as Ink, As Cold as a Blade!

Chapter 159: Dark as Ink, Cold as Steel!

Zhao Cuo had originally planned to escort her personally, but at that moment, his trusted subordinate arrived with a message.

"Little General, the General orders you to come see him immediately. He says it's urgent and needs your input."

Zhao Cuo likely guessed what it was—something truly important that couldn’t be delayed. He had no choice but to go first, leaving his trusted subordinate alone to take Jiang Congyan to see Zhang Yan.

"Make sure you ‘watch over’ the princess carefully. If anything happens, it’ll be your heads on spikes," he commanded coldly.

"Yes."

Before turning to leave, Zhao Cuo’s gaze lingered on Jiang Congyan’s face for a long moment, more brazen than before—as if, with just a little more waiting, the right moment would come to claim this unmatched beauty.

Jiang Congyan appeared calm on the surface, but she noticed the change in him.

What had happened? What new scheme had Zhao Bian devised that made Zhao Cuo disregard even caution around Tuoba Xiao? Or perhaps he believed he no longer needed to be cautious.

Trapped in this small courtyard, she was completely cut off from outside news. She had to find a way.

Zhang Yan and the others had been imprisoned by Zhao Cuo in the city jail. It took her roughly half an hour to walk from the rear courtyard of the Prefect’s compound to reach it.

Not long ago, the Xianbei Army and the Xiongnu Army had fought a fierce battle here. The entire city still reeked of the aftermath of war, with dark brown bloodstains staining the walls and ground, unwashed away, leaving a grim aftermath.

The streets were lined with tightly shut doors, not a single pedestrian in sight—only Liang State soldiers fortifying the walls. Soldiers below were still hauling up stones and timber materials, clearly strengthening their defenses.

Tuoba Xiao was still nearby. He hadn’t withdrawn yet. Jiang Congyan realized this.

Finally arriving at the prison, before even stepping inside, Jiang Congyan was hit by the reek of rot and filth. Disgusted, she immediately covered her nose with her sleeve. The grim cells and the chaotic bloodstains on the floor made her face pale with fright. Yet she still maintained her princess’s demeanor, scolding Zhao Cuo’s men: "How dare Zhao Cuo imprison my brother in this filth!"

The prison guard glanced at Zhao Cuo’s subordinate behind her. "What’s going on here?"

The man leading her explained briefly, "The Princess insisted on seeing Zhang Yan—threatened to starve herself if refused. The Little General ordered me to bring her."

Since it was the Little General’s command, and she was just a harmless noblewoman, the guard relaxed and let her in.

Prisons were meant for criminals, so the conditions were predictably dreadful. Along the way, they passed forgotten corpses, startling Jiang Congyan so much she nearly vomited on her fine robes.

The man leading her smirked. Sheltered noblewomen like her, always waited on hand and foot, had never seen such scenes. She’d insisted on coming—now she was paying for it.

The deeper they went, the dimmer the light became, making it hard to see the path underfoot. After several grim cells, Jiang Congyan finally spotted Zhang Yan in the last one.

The cell had three solid walls, unlit, with only a fist-sized window high on the eastern wall letting in a faint sliver of daylight. The shadowy figure lying on the ground was barely recognizable—his face mostly hidden beneath disheveled hair, manacles chaining his wrists and ankles. He looked half-dead.

"Brother!" Jiang Congyan cried out, rushing to the wooden bars of the cell.

Hearing her voice, Zhang Yan’s eyes snapped open, gaping as if seeing a ghost.

Not an illusion—it was really her.

"Ahh Yan, why are you here? Did that Zhao bastard throw you in here too?" Zhang Yan struggled to sit up, his voice hoarse from lack of water.

He lunged forward, his eyes filled with worry.

If Zhao Cuo truly dared treat Ahh Yan like this, he’d haunt him from the grave.

(Note: The Xianbei Army refers to the ancient tribal confederation that ruled northern China, while the Xiongnu Army refers to the nomadic group often in conflict with Chinese states.)

"No, I came here because I wanted to see you." Jiang Congyan quickly shook her head, her voice trembling with tears. "I knew Zhao Cuo was lying to me. He promised that if I went with him obediently, he wouldn’t give you trouble. Yet he still threw you in this hellhole. Brother, look at you—has he been mistreating you? I’ll make him pay for this!"

Hearing that she hadn’t been imprisoned, Zhang Yan relaxed slightly. Noticing the unusual tone in her voice and the guards behind her, he gradually understood and gave her a questioning look.

Jiang Congyan blinked in response.

Zhang Yan then feigned weakness and slumped down, though he still managed to say, "I... I’m fine. Don’t do anything reckless."

"Brother!" Jiang Congyan cried out in alarm before turning to the guard and demanding, "Open this door right now! If anything happens to my brother, I’ll have your head for this!"

The guard hesitated for a moment, genuinely concerned. After all, Zhang Yan wasn’t just any prisoner—he was the grandson of the Marquis of Liangzhou. If something went wrong and it jeopardized the general’s plans, he’d be in deep trouble.

Seeing that Zhang Yan was still in chains, and with guards everywhere—no way he could escape—the guard finally unlocked the cell door.

Jiang Congyan immediately rushed to check on Zhang Yan. His lips were cracked, his face haggard, and his hands bore proof of his suffering these past few days.

The guard, reassured that Zhang Yan was still alive, relaxed.

Zhang Yan croaked, "Water... food..." His chains only fueled Jiang Congyan’s anger. She demanded, "My brother is the grandson of the Marquis of Liangzhou! You dare treat him this way? Unshackle him at once!"

The guard remained unmoved. "Princess, the young general gave strict orders. No one can release General Zhang without his command."

Jiang Congyan glared at him. After a tense standoff, she realized he wouldn’t obey her and reluctantly compromised. "At least bring him water, food, and some ointment for his frostbite."

This request was more reasonable. The guard glanced at the subordinate who had escorted her for confirmation. Noticing their silent exchange, Jiang Congyan said coldly, "Should I take this up with Zhao Cuo personally?"

"I know I’m just a hostage in his hands now, but even the Prince of Mobei withdrew his troops for my sake. Does he dare treat me poorly? If anything happens to me, the Prince of Mobei’s army will flatten Guyuan City immediately."

Her words made sense. She was indeed crucial to Guyuan’s safety—basically their lucky charm. Recalling how indulgent the young general had been toward her these past two days, and sensing there might be more to it, the subordinate finally nodded and arranged for the requested food, water, and medicine.

Zhao Cuo had deliberately starved Zhang Yan and the others—starving prisoners couldn’t run.

Once the food arrived, Jiang Congyan added, "I’m staying until he’s done eating. All of you, leave. I don’t want to see you."

Since her earlier demands had been met, and to avoid further trouble, the guards complied, though they set a time limit—no more than a quarter of an hour.

Ignoring them, Jiang Congyan focused solely on Zhang Yan.

Only when she was certain they were alone did her act drop, her expression turning grave.

"Brother, are you really alright?" she whispered.

Zhang Yan shook his head. "I’m fine. Just a few days without food." Dropping to a whisper, he asked, "Why did you come? What’s happening outside? Can Tuo Baxiao rescue you?"

Jiang Congyan filled him in quickly before getting to the point.

"Brother, what’s the situation within the Liang army? How much influence do Zhao Bian and Zhao Cuo hold? Do you still have any loyal followers in the military...?"

Her voice was barely audible. Even with their close proximity, Zhang Yan had to strain to hear her.

Zhang Yan had once commanded twenty thousand troops, but it was a temporary assignment—those weren’t his personal forces, and they ultimately answered to Zhao Bian. After being framed and imprisoned, Zhao Bian had naturally reclaimed his men. Still, Jiang Congyan wondered if any remained loyal to him.

Though Zhang Yan hadn’t led troops for long, he had taken warfare seriously, familiarizing himself with Zhao Bian’s subordinates and interacting with many of them.

"Most of them are just gutless weasels... yes-men who switch sides in a heartbeat. They have no real skill in leading armies. The deputy generals of the vanguard, Chen Qi and Dong Yao, are capable. They’re from the Beidi County faction and never got along with Zhao Bian. They might not agree with what’s happening in Guyuan, but they can’t openly defy him... I didn’t command for long, but I served with Captains Li Xiang and Dou Tian to repel the Xiongnu and retake the city. We trust each other..."

Zhang Yan spilled everything fast, and Jiang Congyan took mental notes.

The situation was better than she had expected—the Liang army was a house divided.

"If given the chance, how confident are you in swaying Li and Dou to our side?"

"Fifty-fifty."

After answering, Zhang Yan caught sight of her cold, resolute profile in the dim prison cell, and his heart skipped a beat. "Ah Yan, don’t do anything rash. The Prince of Mobei will come for you. Right now, your safety is the most important thing."

Jiang Congyan smiled faintly. "Don’t worry, brother. I won’t risk my life. But if the time comes, I hope you’ll cooperate with me."

Her words only made Zhang Yan more uneasy.

He wanted to dissuade her further but suddenly felt two small objects pressed into his palm.

Instinctively, he hid them in his sleeve, even though the guards were nowhere in sight.

"Brother, I’ll find a way to send you word," Jiang Congyan said finally.

After a little more than fifteen minutes, the trusted aide and guards returned to hurry her along. They found the princess kneeling beside Zhang Yan, sniffling like a helpless child seeking comfort from her elder brother. Hearing footsteps behind her, she hastily wiped her tears and stood up, her face snapping back into its usual haughty mask.

Hah, even the proud princess wasn’t above fear.

"Princess, it’s time to leave."

But Jiang Congyan didn’t move. "I still need to see my guards."

The aide hesitated only briefly. "Make it quick."

Jiang Congyan moved to the adjacent cell, where her men were treated far worse than Zhang Yan—dozens of them, bound and piled together, weak and barely moving.

Furious, she turned and lashed out at the guard. "I told Zhao Cuo—if even one of my men dies, I won’t forgive it. Are you trying to starve them to death?"

The guard didn’t argue this time, waving for someone to bring watery porridge.

Only then did Jiang Congyan seem satisfied.

"He Zhou," she called.

He Zhou had already heard her from the next cell and shuffled to the bars. He looked up at her with concern. "My lady, are you unharmed?"

Jiang Congyan crouched down. "I’m fine. How are you all?"

"I—" He Zhou started to answer but suddenly felt something brush past him. His hands were bound, so he couldn’t catch it, but he subtly shifted, pressing the object beneath his leg.

"We’re holding up, my lady. Don’t trouble yourself over us."

Reluctantly, Jiang Congyan stood up. Only after seeing the guards make them drink it did she finally agree to leave.

Later, Zhao Cuo’s aide reported every detail of Jiang Congyan’s visit to Zhang Yan. Hearing that she had spent half a quarter-hour alone with him, Zhao Cuo’s face darkened. But when he learned she had seemed to cry, his furrowed brow relaxed.

Of course. For all her pride, she was still just a sheltered noblewoman. Now that she was in his hands, how could she not be afraid? She was just putting up a front. In the end, she still sought comfort from her brother. As for her demand to feed them, Zhao Cuo paid it no mind—a few more days wouldn’t change anything.

Brushing the thought aside, Zhao Cuo refocused on his grand plans.

Two days ago, his father had sent out orders. By now, Zhou Hong should have received the military command. Once he led his forces to Guyuan and trapped Tuo Baxiao between their armies, while another unit cut off his supply lines, even a beast would be reduced to a trapped animal. And if they could seize the chance to kill Tuo Baxiao... The thought sent Zhao Cuo’s pulse racing with excitement.

Meanwhile, Zhou Hong had indeed received Zhao Bian’s orders.

"Send me to Guyuan?" He frowned.

The Huns had already been driven back, with Tuo Baxiao chasing them down. Had something gone awry? Had the Huns turned the tables?

Zhou Hong asked the question.

The messenger replied, "General Zhao has taken Guyuan from the Xiongnu, but the Xianbei Army won’t let it go and is preparing to attack our forces. General Zhou, we urge you to send reinforcements to Guyuan immediately."

Zhou Hong found this explanation odd. The reports he had received earlier clearly stated that the Xianbei were attacking the Xiongnu in Guyuan—how did Zhao Bian end up taking the city?

Regardless, if Guyuan was now in Liang State's hands, there was no reason to let the Xianbei take it.

"I understand. I’ll muster the troops at once."

——

Outside Guyuan, the Xianbei Army’s encampment.

Generals Modolou and Duan Muqi had never found three or four days so unbearable. Ever since the Khatun was captured by the Liang people, the king’s mood had been dark, so tense that no one dared even breathe loudly. Even as his trusted aides, they hesitated to speak freely, let alone the lower ranks. The once-lively camp was now deathly quiet, shrouded in a heavy gloom.

It wasn’t just Tuo Baxiao—every Xianbei cavalryman burned with rage. The Liang people had double-crossed them like this. Given the chance, they would charge in and butcher every Liang soldier.

That day, Modolou and the others had discussed plans to rescue Jiang Congyan, but Tuo Baxiao rejected every one.

Instead, he ordered the army to remain stationed there, sending scouts to watch Guyuan’s every move. He held back from attacking, as if waiting for something.

"What do you think the king is waiting for?" Duan Muqi whispered to Modolou.

"How should I know?" Modolou snapped irritably.

Inside a makeshift tent serving as the command post, Tuo Baxiao sat behind a desk lit by a dim oil lamp. The flickering flame, battered by the cold wind, cast shifting shadows across his sharp, rugged features—like sheer cliffs jutting into the heavens, warning any who dared approach that they would be crushed.

Days without shaving had left his stubble thick, covering half his face. The candlelight reflected in his pale green eyes, like a wolf’s eyes glowing with hunger in the dark.

At that moment, he did nothing, merely rubbing a small bamboo whistle between his rough fingers.

——

On the fifth day after taking Guyuan, Zhao Bian and his son had fully secured the city’s defenses. On the sixth day, a fast horse brought news—Zhou Hong’s thirty thousand troops had set out and were marching on Guyuan.

Zhao Bian threw his head back and laughed. "Hahaha! All the pieces are in place, and even fate stands on our side!"

The army would take two or three days to arrive, so it was time to prepare the troops in Guyuan.

Zhao Bian ordered his servants to prepare a banquet in the governor’s mansion’s front courtyard, summoning all officers ranked captain and above—over twenty in total.

Among them were his loyalists and those who still challenged him. Today, he would bring them all in line.

Once everyone had arrived and taken their seats, Zhao Bian rose from the head seat, wine cup in hand.

"Gentlemen, I’ve invited you here today for two matters. First, to celebrate our capture of Guyuan—reclaiming our land from the barbarians is no small feat. To your victory!"

He raised his cup, and the others followed suit, drinking deeply.

After the first round, Zhao Bian continued, "The second matter is one I’m sure weighs on your minds—Tuo Baxiao’s forces are looming over us outside our walls. How do we hold Guyuan?"

At this, the officers perked up, eyes fixed on him. This was indeed their greatest concern.

Zhao Bian walked among them, cup in hand. "I know some of you doubt me. Others fear Tuo Baxiao’s retaliation, blaming me for playing a risky hand." He paused, scanning the room, his gaze lingering on a few before smoothly shifting into a sorrowful expression. "But everything I’ve done has been for Liang—for His Majesty!"

He sighed heavily. "His Majesty commanded us to repel the barbarians and defend our land. The Xiongnu may have fled, but beyond Xiaoguan, most of our cities remain under Xianbei control. The Xianbei are barbarians, no different from the Xiongnu—perhaps even more dangerous. How could I stand by and watch Liang’s territory fall into their hands? To fail His Majesty’s trust above and betray the people of Guyuan below—returning to Chang’an, death would be the only atonement. So at any opportunity, I swore to reclaim Liang’s cities. Only then can we fulfill our duty to protect our homeland..."

His performance was heartfelt, and several among the crowd were moved by his words.

Indeed, the Huns left, only to be replaced by the Xianbei—They're all barbarians—what difference does it make?

Not to mention the emperor had ordered them to reclaim the cities. If they achieved nothing, we’d have no choice but to die for our failure.

"This is Liang’s land—we can’t just hand our cities over to those savages!" someone loudly agreed.

That set the crowd off, with many voicing their agreement. Only Chen Qi and Dong Yao remained silent.

"Generals Chen and Dong, you’re quiet—do you disagree?" Zhao Cuo suddenly addressed the two.

The crowd quieted, their gazes turning toward them.

"Not at all," Chen Qi countered, raising his head to look at Zhao Bian. "I, too, do not wish to see Liang's land fall into barbarian hands. But how could Tuo Baxiao just take this lying down?"

After all, it was only with Tuo Baxiao's help that they had taken Guyuan in the first place. They were basically stealing the city from under him—how could a man like Tuo Baxiao tolerate such a slight?

Zhao Bian grinned. "General Chen's concern is also mine. But I have already devised a countermeasure. Hear me out."

"What’s the plan, General?"

Zhao Bian then revealed that he had already sent word to Zhou Hong, telling him to hit the Xianbei from the side, and that he had secretly dispatched troops to cut off Tuo Baxiao’s food and weapons.

"...With this two-pronged approach, do you think Tuo Baxiao can be defeated?"

Hearing that, it almost sounded possible. And even if they were unwilling, what could they do? Things had already reached this point—they were stuck with Zhao Bian now—no way out.

"The general is wise! If we unite and work together, we will surely drive out the savages and make our names!"

"Drive out the savages and make our names!"

With the men fired up, Zhao Bian grinned. He raised his cup again in a toast and drank deeply.

Setting down the wine cup, he clapped his hands, and a group of dancers slipped in.

After months of war in Guyuan, it was rare for Zhao Bian to arrange such entertainment. The soldiers—coarse men all—gawked, and some yanked the girls into their laps, hands wandering.

Seeing this, Zhao Bian just smirked and let it happen.

Encouraged, the others grew bolder, and soon the dozen or so dancers were claimed by the officers.

"When you all achieve extraordinary feats, you’ll get ten times the women," Zhao Bian declared.

The men imagined that day, their faces flushed with lust.

Amid the drunken revelry, someone mentioned Jiang Congyan.

"Princess You'an is in the city. It's said one dance at a banquet hooked the Prince of Mobei. Shame none of us have seen the woman who brought a prince to his knees."

The room went dead quiet.

Zhao Bian’s hand, holding the cup, paused. Jia Gong nudged him and muttered, low and sly, "General, why not have the princess dance for the men?"

Zhao Bian hesitated—after all, she was a princess. Then he caught Jia Gong’s look—and got it.

"Very well."

Previously, capturing her had been his decision alone. But now, bringing her to the banquet to dance would implicate everyone. Once they’d all crossed Tuo Baxiao, they’d be in too deep to back out. He ordered his Imperial Guard to summon her.

Jiang Congyan was resting in her room when the guards outside the courtyard suddenly knocked on the door.

"Princess, the General wants you at the banquet."

Si Zi cracked the door open but didn’t let them in. "A banquet? What for? The Princess needs to rest."

The guard's tone was firm. "This is the General's order. The Princess has to come with me—or else..."

Si Zi caught the threat and snapped, "Stay put," before storming back in.

"My lady, what do we do?" Si Zi whispered. "Zhao Bian calling you now? Nothing good."

A cold glint flashed in Jiang Congyan’s eyes. "Tell him I need to freshen up—I’ll be there soon."

"Are you planning to—"

Jiang Congyan raised a finger to silence her.

Si Zi then returned to the door. "The Princess needs to change."

"Hurry up. You’ve got fifteen minutes."

"Understood." Si Zi slammed the door shut.

In the inner chamber, a white shape slipped from behind the bed curtains—Lingxiao.

Jiang Congyan petted its head and fastened a note to its leg.

"Lingxiao, take this message to my brother."

Lingxiao stayed silent, just nuzzling her.

Jiang Congyan gripped her right arm, steadying herself.

After stalling for time, she timed it precisely—just as the guard came to urge her again, the door finally opened.

The guard froze at her flawless, icy beauty.

"Princess, come with us."

The path was slick, so she leaned on her maid. The guards paid no mind.

Focused on her, they ignored the courtyard—no one saw a white shadow vanish into the dark.

When Jiang Congyan was led into the banquet hall, the place was already a mess of drunken revelry.

The second her regal figure appeared in the doorway, all eyes turned to her.

Confined to her courtyard, hardly anyone had seen her since that day on the city walls. Though rumors of Princess You'an's unparalleled beauty had spread, they saw for themselves—she really was that stunning.

Servants overfilled cups, wine spilling everywhere. Men mid-sip just gaped. Even the dancers’ admirers stared, spellbound.

"General, the Princess has arrived."

The crowd finally snapped back to reality, though their gazes remained fixed on Jiang Congyan.

No wonder the Prince of Mobei gave up cities for her.

"Why am I here?" Jiang Congyan’s voice was ice.

She stood in the center of the banquet hall, clearly nervous but struggling to maintain a calm facade, her radiant beauty only making their wicked thoughts grow stronger.

"No need to be nervous, Princess," Zhao Bian chuckled. "We merely admire your grace and wish to witness your famous dance once more."

Jiang Congyan's expression darkened.

"How dare you!" she snapped angrily. "I am a princess of Liang! How dare you humiliate me so!"

Zhao Bian brushed off her anger. A princess? Merely a woman—and not even the Emperor’s blood daughter at that. An empty title - no one would stand up for her.

"How is this humiliating?" he replied.

Jiang Congyan shot back defiantly, "Aren't you afraid of the Prince of Mobei learning of this?"

At this, his smile deepened. "The Prince of Mobei? He won't even be able to protect himself soon."

Her eyes widened, staring in shocked disbelief.

"What... what has happened to him?"

"All you need to know is that your shield will soon be useless."

"Princess, after you," Zhao Bian gestured commandingly, his tone unyielding.

For a long moment, she froze in place. Then, as if finally grasping her helplessness, her gaze flickered over the scandalous scene—the fate of the courtesans—and fear of ending up like them finally broke her will.

With trembling hands, she unfastened her cloak and stepped slowly into the open space.

Cold and unyielding, her pale silken robes shimmered under the moonlight, skirts and loose strands of hair drifting like gossamer in the icy wind—like a celestial being about to vanish into the night.

All eyes were locked on her.

Reluctantly, she raised her arms and began to move, dancing like a fluttering butterfly. The audience was spellbound, lost in the vision—even Zhao Bian’s gaze grew distant.

Then—

A flash of steel streaked from her sleeve, burying itself deep in Zhao Bian’s chest.

The distance between them was mere paces. The strike came too swiftly for anyone to react—until Zhao Bian’s scream pierced the air, the short arrow protruding from his chest revealing the truth.

By the time they turned back to Jiang Congyan, she had stilled, standing silent in the wind, all traces of fragility gone. The flickering torchlight highlighted her icy expression, her dark eyes—deep as ink, sharp as a blade.