Murong Jin looked at the man across from her, her gaze dropping to his long, elegant fingers. He slowly moved his hand, revealing what lay beneath.
It was a jade pendant. The white jade was shot through with threads of crimson, like veins of blood. Carved into it were the characters "Zhuoran." It was said that when the Fourth Prince was born, the Emperor had declared, "This son is like me. He will surely be extraordinary." And so, he was named Zhuoran. The Emperor had then commissioned this pendant, carved from a rare blood jade, for the prince to carry as a sign of his immense favor.
"I happened to be in Sushen at the time," Xue Zhuoran said with a gentle smile, putting the pendant away. "While I am no match for the Young General on the battlefield, I know a trick or two from the strategy books."
"So it was your doing, Fourth Brother," Murong Jin said, a little embarrassed. Then a thought struck her. "Does that mean you followed this man all the way north?"
Xue Zhuoran nodded. "He is acting under my orders."
"To report a death?"
"To seek justice. There is something very strange about General Xu's death." He set down his cup. "On the surface, he was killed in single combat with an enemy commander. In truth, he was poisoned."
"What?" Murong Jin stared. "How do you know?"
Xue Zhuoran pulled a white handkerchief from his sleeve. "This was taken from General Xu's mouth. It reeks of a sharp, acrid poison. The killer must have assumed that on a remote battlefield, no one would suspect the cause of death or perform an autopsy. They were careless."
Murong Jin nodded, handing the handkerchief back. "But they were unlucky. Fourth Brother happened to be there to see through their ruse."
"So I spread the word that this soldier had proof of the general's poisoning and was on his way to the capital to report it to the Ministry of Justice."
"And the real killer would panic," Murong Jin finished, understanding his plan. "They would send assassins to silence the soldier, and you could follow the trail back to the mastermind."
"Precisely," he said with an appreciative nod.
She smiled back and took a slow sip of wine. This Fourth Prince claimed to have no interest in the throne, and he seemed to be on good terms with Xue Liulan. But with the Crown Prince dead, who knew what ambitions might stir? Jindu already had one Xue Feiyan to deal with. Now, it seemed, there was another.
As she was thinking, the candle on the wall flickered. A blizzard was raging outside. The other guests had long since gone upstairs to their rooms. The only people left on the main floor were Murong Jin, Xue Zhuoran, and a group of four rough-looking men who had entered a short while ago, dressed like local hunters.
"Get down!" Xue Zhuoran hissed. In the same motion, his wine cup shot from his hand, shattering against an unseen arrow just inches from her head.
Shards of porcelain rained down on her back, stinging even through her thick cloak.
"Go!" Xue Zhuoran launched himself from his seat, grabbing her hand. With his other hand, he flicked a pair of chopsticks, extinguishing the candle on the wall.
The room plunged into darkness. Outside, the blizzard howled. Murong Jin let him pull her a few steps, and they dove for cover behind a wooden partition.
Suddenly, small sparks of light appeared. The assassins had their own tinders.
Well prepared, Xue Zhuoran thought with a grim smile. He glanced at Murong Jin and saw her looking up toward the stairs.
She caught his eye and pointed upward. The soldier was up there. Had the assassins already gotten to him?
Xue Zhuoran shook his head and gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. "They're not here for him."
She nodded, relieved. She knew it, but she had to be sure.
"Who have you offended, Young General?" Xue Zhuoran asked, effortlessly deflecting an arrow with a flick of his wrist.
She shook her head, then shoved him hard. They both scrambled aside just as a volley of arrows turned the partition into a pincushion.
"They're here for me," she called out from behind a pillar. "Fourth Brother, you should go."
"Are you worried I'll slow you down, General?"
She was speechless. He was a prince of the blood. If anything happened to him on her watch, she and the entire Murong clan would be held responsible.
Xue Zhuoran peeked around the pillar. The men were skilled with their bows, but they weren't advancing. They seemed hesitant to engage in close combat.
Murong Jin's eyes fell on one of the arrows that had missed its mark. White fletching, a black shaft, and a gleaming, blackened tip. Her lips curved into a cold sneer.
So it's them. But how did they know she had left Jindu?
"Careful!" she yelled to Xue Zhuoran. "The northern raiders are masters of the longbow. And their arrows are poisoned!"
In the same instant, they both moved, launching themselves from cover and closing the distance before the next volley could be fired.
Xue Zhuoran's soft sword hissed from its sheath, a blur of motion that ended at one of the men's throats. But the man was fast, blocking the blade with his bow and countering with a palm strike. Xue Zhuoran, a veteran of countless duels, simply twisted, using the man's own bowstring to snap his neck.
Murong Jin, however, was not a duelist. She was a general, her skills honed for the cavalry charge. Without a proper weapon, she was at a disadvantage. She took down one man, but as Xue Zhuoran turned to help her, an arrow sliced into her right calf.
"Fast reactions," she hissed, dropping to one knee. Up close, a bow was a clumsy weapon. But this man had instantly used an arrow as a dagger. These were not simple raiders.
Or perhaps, they weren't raiders at all.
She dodged another strike, her right leg now completely numb. The raiders often used paralyzing agents on their arrowheads to take down large beasts. These men were well-equipped imposters.
As her vision began to blur, Xue Zhuoran dispatched the last of the assassins.
"General, are you alright?" he asked, helping her to her feet.
"I'm fine," she managed, leaning on him.
He helped her to a stool and tore a strip of cloth from his own robe to bind the wound. She, in turn, pulled a small pill from a pouch at her belt and swallowed it—an antidote to the raiders' paralyzing agents.
After a moment, the feeling began to return to her leg. She looked at the bodies. One killed by the bowstring. The other three had taken their own lives after being subdued. Trained assassins.
Xue Zhuoran searched the bodies. "Nothing," he said, rising. "They're clean. No clues to their origin. But with skills like these, they are definitely not northern raiders."
"Then why use bows?" she wondered aloud.
"To frame them, I imagine," he said, sitting beside her. He suddenly smiled. "I never would have thought that the famous General Murong was not an expert in hand-to-hand combat."
"War is fought with strategy, not just brute force," she retorted, looking away. "And fighting on horseback is different."
He just laughed. "It seems we're stuck here for the night. Shall I find us some wine?"
She turned back to him, a defiant grin on her face. "I'd be honored."
A few days later, a carrier pigeon landed on a windowsill in Guo Shangzhong's office. A young eunuch quickly retrieved the message and hurried it to him.
Guo Shangzhong looked up from admiring the jade ring on his thumb. "What is it?"
"A message, Lord Steward. From the north."
He lazily unrolled the tiny scroll. He read the single line of text, then read it again. And again.
Finally, he slammed the paper down on the table. "Useless fools!"