Chapter 101

Chapter 101

The setting sun, like a huge dying ember, sank behind the distant mountain ridge, scorching the clouds on the horizon into a bizarre purple-red.

Qixia Mountain Manor was immersed in the chaos of fading twilight. The last remnant of sunlight, like a struggling ember, clung stubbornly to the distant mountain ridges, stretching the manor's shadow into a deformed and elongated shape.

The air was stagnant, and even the mountain wind seemed to take a detour. A damp cold from the mountain vegetation permeated the air, mingling with an invisible, murderous pressure. Even the homing birds kept far away from this area.

Guards of the Qianchen Pavilion stood at every third step and every fifth post, forming a surrounding force like cast-iron statues, their faces expressionless, the blades in their hands gleaming in the dusk.

In the center of the courtyard, Chu Qi was bending over, trimming a cluster of late-blooming chrysanthemums.

He wore a simple wide robe, sleeves rolled up to reveal slender wrists. His movements were unhurried, his gaze focused, as if the world's distractions had nothing to do with him—only this cluster of flowers and plants deserved his meticulous care.

He pruned away withered branches and brushed off dead leaves with elegant grace.

Yin Qianfeng stood silently behind him. Her form-fitting battle attire outlined her athletic figure. Her face was delicate but covered with a frosty layer. Her gaze fell on Chu Qi's leisurely back as he tended to the plants, yet seemed to pierce through him, looking toward the distant mountains and forests swallowed by dusk.

Inside and outside the manor, there was dead silence. Beneath the silence lay an extremely taut string.

In recent days, news from the capital had been coming continuously—the strict defenses of the Five Wards Military Office, the pervasive investigations of the Listening Terrace, and the growing list of names of those who had died from the poisoned incense.

Yin Qianfeng was accustomed to life and death. To accomplish great deeds, bloodshed was inevitable.

She did not waver in the slightest; any emotions that should or should not exist were suppressed by profound loyalty.

The Pavilion Master had his reasons for his actions.

She only needed to follow, to execute.

Chu Qi seemed completely unaware of the subtle emotions of the person behind him. After trimming the last branch, he straightened up, stepped back half a pace, and admired his work with satisfaction.

The afterglow of the setting sun happened to fall on his profile, outlining a handsome yet distant contour.

"The setting sun is infinitely beautiful, but it is near dusk," he murmured softly, his voice calm.

He was waiting.

He was waiting for Nan Wuxie's answer.

According to the agreement—or rather, according to Chu Qi's silent expectation—Nan Wuxie should have come today.

But as the sun slowly sank, the purple-red on the horizon turned to deep indigo, and the mountain path outside the manor remained quiet—no sound of hooves, no trace of visitors.

Chu Qi was not impatient. He wiped the dust and mud from his fingertips with a clean cloth, then walked to a stone bench nearby, sat down, and poured himself a cup of tea that had long gone cold.

His movements were still calm and composed, his demeanor serene.

Where did his confidence come from? He knew very well what kind of person Nan Wuxie was; what made him think that the man would follow his wishes and make the same choice as he did?

He did not have that confidence. His confidence was certainly not from Nan Wuxie.

Three days earlier, Shen Kuo had used a secret order to urgently mobilize some elite troops from Jiangnan to come north for "support."

This was Chu Qi's confidence, and also his judgment.

He judged that Nan Wuxie might not, as he wished, take up this blood-stained blade.

Time trickled away. Two groups of people, like undercurrents, were heading toward Huazhou respectively, like invitations before the prelude to death—silent, swift, and murderous, hidden beneath a huge storm, unseen by anyone.

The twilight deepened, and the mountain wind gradually picked up, bringing a chill.

Chu Qi held the withered branch he had just cut off, flicked his fingertip lightly, and the branch fell into a ceramic basin nearby.

He straightened up and looked westward at the sky light that was about to completely extinguish.

"Almost there."

Just as the last ray of daylight completely disappeared and the lanterns in the manor lit up one after another, casting the shadows of the standing guards into ghostly elongated shapes, the sound of unhurried hoofbeats finally came from outside the manor's main gate.

A single rider, not fast.

Chu Qi put down his teacup and the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

"He's here," he murmured.

Yin Qianfeng placed her hand on the short blade at her waist.

The gate slowly opened, and Nan Wuxie entered alone on horseback, holding the reins loosely.

He dismounted and casually tossed the reins to a guard who came forward. His gaze, avoiding the guards outside who were noticeably more numerous than usual, went straight to Chu Qi, who was sitting on the stone bench in the center of the courtyard.

"Pavilion Master Chu, I've kept you waiting," Nan Wuxie said as he approached. "It's getting late, and you're still tending to the plants?"

Chu Qi handed the small pruning shears to Yin Qianfeng beside him, clapped his hands, and smiled. "When one's heart is in anticipation, time does not feel long."

He flicked his sleeves, met Nan Wuxie's gaze, and said, "Waiting for a distinguished guest naturally requires some patience. Marquis, you are late in coming. Were you... delayed on the way?"

The two stopped five paces apart. The surrounding guards moved silently, forming a loose encirclement, and the atmosphere instantly became tense.

Nan Wuxie seemed oblivious. His expression was completely unperturbed. He smiled faintly, nodded slightly, and let his gaze fall on the chrysanthemums.

"Indeed, I've kept the Pavilion Master waiting. But to be able to enjoy such a moment of leisure at a time like this is quite rare."

Nan Wuxie indeed needed time, and Chu Qi was happy to oblige. He smoothly replied, "Yes, with a storm brewing, these flowers and plants have become a consolation. The Marquis must be even more burdened lately. The capital is in chaos—the Five Wards Military Office and the Listening Terrace... quite a lot of pressure, isn't it?"

Nan Wuxie sighed, the sigh carrying just the right amount of weariness and gravity. "It's not just a lot. The people are panicked, rumors are rife, the court is disgraced. There's a deadline to solve the case and stabilize the public. Pavilion Master Chu, with your extensive sources of information, you should know that the current situation is no ordinary case—it's a disaster that shakes the foundation of the state."

Chu Qi listened quietly, still wearing that inscrutable faint smile. "Misfortune and fortune are interdependent; opportunities also hide in chaos. The Marquis should know this."

Nan Wuxie did not answer immediately. He looked around at the guards whose hostility was barely concealed, then finally let his gaze fall back on Chu Qi's face and suddenly grinned.

"Chu Qi, you're playing a big game," he said slowly. "Throwing the capital into chaos, corpses everywhere—all just to force me to make a choice?"

Chu Qi shook his head, his smile unchanged. "The Marquis overstates it. I merely placed the choice more clearly before you. This world has long been filthy beyond redemption. To break and then rebuild, someone must first tear open that opening. A small price is unavoidable."

Nan Wuxie was silent for a moment. His gaze went to the sky that had fully darkened, where stars were faintly visible.

"Yes, some costs are unavoidable," he said, looking away from the sky and sighing softly. "You are right."

Chu Qi saw the ambiguous acknowledgment in his eyes and gave a smile that maintained a careful distance. The two maintained an obvious balance of distance—neither tearing off the facade to get to the bottom of things nor making any concessions.

After another round of bland back-and-forth, Nan Wuxie continued to maintain a demeanor of moderate difficulty and contradiction. Chu Qi was already clear in his heart; he was also secretly calculating the speed and time of travel.

Almost there.

Since you refuse to take it, I'll force you to take it. When the knife is at your throat, you'll have no choice but to accept.

"Regarding what I mentioned earlier, may I ask how the Marquis has... considered it?"

He finally brought the conversation to its core, but his tone was not urgent; instead, it carried a hint of interest.

Nan Wuxie seemed to be struggling to weigh his options, saying slowly, "What the Pavilion Master said about 'destroying to rebuild' is profound in its reasoning. The current court's long-standing ills indeed require strong medicine, but…"

He didn't finish the sentence, only feigning doubt just enough, while also revealing a flicker of hesitant agreement, but the focus was solely on questioning the subsequent outcome.

This matched the conflicted mindset of someone who has ulterior motives but also fears the consequences.

Chu Qi's eyes glinted. He stepped forward half a pace, lowering his voice, coaxingly: "Marquis, those who achieve great things are not bound by petty details. History is always written by the victors. Popular support? When heaven and earth are overturned and a new sun and moon shine, once you provide people with food and stability, why worry about their hearts not turning to you? These present sacrifices are necessary to wash away the filth. You hold military power and have close ties with Lord Wen. If you seize this momentum and rise up, coordinating inside and outside, isn't this a godsend?"

He pushed the knife's handle forward again, painting an alluring picture.

Nan Wuxie's face showed signs of agonizing struggle. He clasped his hands behind his back and paced two steps in the courtyard, as if locked in fierce inner conflict.

Night had fully fallen. Torches in the mountain villa were lit, and flickering shadows played across his face.

"'Coordinating inside and outside… easier said than done,' Nan Wuxie said, shaking his head. 'Lord Wen has just suffered a great calamity and has not yet found his footing. Li Sheng's intentions are hard to fathom. Chu Pavilion Master, this method may be swift, but it carries too much violence and might backfire.'"

These words were hesitant, probing, and hinted at being persuadable, inviting the other party.

But the caution in Chu Qi's eyes did not lessen.

Nan Wuxie's stalling was too natural, the topic always skirted the edges without deepening or concluding.

What was he waiting for?

"Marquis," Chu Qi's smile finally faded, his gaze becoming deep and unfathomable. "Between you and me, there's no need for such pretense, is there?"

The tone was flat, but the words were blunt.

A soft knife cuts the deepest.

"Marquis, how much longer do your people need?"

The moment his words fell, several sharp eagle cries suddenly rang out from the dense forest outside the villa, as if answering!

Immediately after, there was a series of urgent battle horns.

"Woo——!"

Almost simultaneously, bursts of purple-black smoke exploded in the sky over the rear mountain. The Qianchen Pavilion's unique signal brought urgent news: the remaining subordinates from Jiangnan, thousands of miles away, had arrived and were in position, ready to charge.

The reinforcements from both sides had arrived at the same time!

Nan Wuxie stopped pacing, turned around, and looked at Chu Qi.

"Now."

No more pretense. Now was the time. Both knew it.

"Foolish boy." Chu Qi shook his head, saying with regret, "Greed leads to defeat at the moment of victory."

Greed—that was how Chu Qi understood it.

In life and action, one cannot have it both ways. Chu Qi knew his choices clearly; he never hesitated. But Nan Wuxie's choice was greedy—he wanted to wash away the filth while also achieving victory without bloodshed.

How could that be reasonable?

But Nan Wuxie was always stubborn. He slowly raised his hand and touched his ear. "What if I insist… on having it both ways?"

Beyond the high walls, two forces were locked in battle. The sounds of slaughter echoed through the mountains. The Qixia Villa was now split into two completely different worlds.

Outside the villa was a hellish furnace. The sharp clashes of metal tore through the night's silence. Torchlight swayed wildly in the darkness, casting intertwined shadows on tree trunks and rocks, twisted like ghosts.

Roars, screams, the dull thuds of blades sinking into flesh, the sharp whistles of arrows cutting through the air—all sounds mixed into a violent wave, crashing wave after wave against the villa's walls.

Wei Qinghe took the lead, his long blade turning into an arc of light, splattering blood wherever it passed.

Wu Ye, like a raging bear, led another elite squad tasked with breaking through the Qianchen Pavilion's outer defensive formation, each step accompanied by the dull sound of bones breaking.

The Qianchen Pavilion guards were no pushovers either. Relying on their familiarity with the terrain and fierce fearlessness, they formed battle formations to tenaciously resist. Sparks from clashing weapons continuously burst in the darkness.

Figures kept falling. The strong smell of blood spread with the night breeze, even vaguely reaching inside the villa.

But in the courtyard, there was an eerie silence.

The torchlight burned steadily, casting elongated shadows of Chu Qi and Nan Wuxie on the ground. The chrysanthemum bushes trembled slightly in the night breeze, and the freshly pruned branches and withered leaves still lay quietly by the pottery pots.

Outside, the shouts of killing reached the heavens, and the loud clashes of weapons were just a wall away. Yet, the two standing in the center of the courtyard seemed to be in another dimension.

Chu Qi didn't even furrow his brow. His gaze fell calmly on Nan Wuxie's face, as if studying a painting rather than facing an opponent who might erupt into violence at any moment. The deafening sounds were but distant wind and rain to him, unable to disturb his composure.

"Listen to these sounds," he began, his voice somehow piercing through the chaotic noise outside the villa, clear and vivid. "Your men, Marquis, are truly formidable."

Nan Wuxie's gaze flickered slightly. "Your subordinates, Chu Pavilion Master, are also tenacious enough." He responded in an equally calm tone.

Beyond the wall, a particularly piercing scream suddenly burst out, followed by the dull thud of a heavy object falling, then a more intense clash of metal and roars.

With a loud "boom," it seemed a side door of the villa was slammed open by great force, mixed with closer shouts of killing and exclamations!

Yin Qianfeng, along with the villa's guards, simultaneously raised their hands to grip their sword hilts, each stepping half a pace forward to form a killing formation.

But Chu Qi merely raised his hand slightly to stop his subordinates, then looked at Nan Wuxie with profound intent.

"Nan Wuxie, have you made up your mind?"

He had asked the very same question before, on the day Nan Wuxie wanted to drag Chu Qi into his plot.

Now, he asked again.

Outside the wall, the sounds exploded with violent clamor. The battle line was clearly advancing toward the courtyard.

Chu Qi only tilted his head slightly, listening to the discordant noise. Then he looked back at Nan Wuxie, clicked his tongue, regretfully, and said, "It's a pity about all these flowers in the garden. I'm afraid they'll be stained with some unwanted colors soon."