gnovel Chapter 106 Mist Rises Over Twin Towers
Chapter 106 Mist Rises Over Twin Towers
The not-so-luxurious carriage from the Changning Prince's Mansion rolled over the bluestone road and quietly entered Anrenfang.
The carriage slowly came to a stop in front of an inconspicuous gate.
This is the residence of the great Confucian scholar Yu Shinan, who was staying at the home of his brother Yu Shiji. The alley is quiet and secluded, even somewhat deserted.
Yang Yan lifted the carriage curtain, not putting on any airs of a royal grandson, and walked on foot to the tightly closed elm door with only Xiao Zhao by his side.
The door knocker was wet with morning dew, gleaming with a cold, bronze light.
"Knock, knock, knock."
The knocking wasn't hurried; it conveyed a sense of patience.
A moment later, the side door creaked open a crack, and the pageboy from yesterday poked his head out.
Upon seeing Yang Yan standing at the foot of the steps, the pageboy was visibly taken aback, then a hint of panic and surprise flashed in his eyes: "Your Highness... why are you here so early..."
He was turned away yesterday, and he's here again today? Has the Prince of Changning changed his ways?
Yang Yan's expression was gentle and refined, showing no anger at being slighted. He simply handed over a gold-embossed name card from his sleeve: "I have come to pay my respects to Mr. Yu. Please announce my arrival."
The page hesitated for a moment, but ultimately dared not refuse him entry again. He accepted the visiting card with both hands and hurried inside.
After about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, footsteps were heard in the courtyard.
Yang Yan slightly straightened his clothes, showing no sign of urgency.
The gate slowly opened, but instead of Yu Shinan, a middle-aged man in a scarlet official robe walked out—Yu Shiji, the Imperial Secretary.
With that impeccable, apologetic smile typical of officials, he quickly stepped forward and bowed, saying, "Your subject, Yu Shiji, pays respects to Your Highness, Prince Changning."
"You may rise, Lord Yu." Yang Yan offered a helping hand, his gaze passing over Yu Shiji's shoulder to look at the empty courtyard.
Yu Shiji stood up, looking troubled, and said, "It's really unfortunate. My younger brother was organizing old manuscripts from the previous dynasty until the third watch last night, and he hasn't gotten up yet. How can Your Highness, being of noble birth, wait here for so long? Perhaps... Your Highness could come another day?"
These words sound polite, but the refusal is quite clear.
The Yu brothers were leaders of the literati in Jiangnan. Although they served as officials in the Sui Dynasty, they still retained their inherent arrogance.
Yu Shinan, in particular, is upright and aloof, and does not want to get involved in the treacherous and unpredictable struggle for the throne. This is Yang Yan's third visit already. After all, he is one of the twenty-four people in Lingyan Pavilion, and he is very patient with talented people.
Xiao Zhao, standing behind him, couldn't help but frown slightly.
Yesterday, His Highness said that this Mr. Yu was a man of great talent, but he was too ungrateful. The imperial grandson had personally visited three times, yet he was still acting arrogantly.
Yang Yan smiled.
Instead of getting angry, he became even more respectful: "It was my abrupt arrival that disturbed your peaceful slumber. You have worked hard in your studies to continue the lost learning of the sages, and you should rest and recuperate."
He turned slightly to the side, gesturing for Xiao Zhao to present the inconspicuous sandalwood gift box.
"In that case, I will not disturb you any longer. Here are a few volumes of the supplementary fragments of the Book of Han that I have recently copied, as well as a fine stone inkstone. It is not particularly valuable, but its fine texture makes it suitable for grinding ink. Please ask Yu Sheren to pass these on to you, sir. I will come to visit again tomorrow."
Supplement to the Book of Han? Yu Shiji's eyes flickered slightly.
This is a rare find, especially considering the devastation of war and the incompleteness of many historical texts. This Prince Changning certainly has a discerning eye.
"This... I thank Your Highness for the reward on behalf of my younger brother." Unable to refuse, Yu Shiji had no choice but to accept it.
Yang Yan bowed again, then turned and boarded the carriage.
The wheels turned, and the carriage drove away from Anrenfang. Inside the carriage, Xiao Zhao finally couldn't help but speak in a low voice, "Your Highness, this Mr. Yu is far too arrogant. You are a grandson of the Emperor, why must you act like this?"
Yang Yan leaned against the carriage wall with his eyes closed, swaying gently with the carriage's bumps. A faint smile curved his lips: "Xiao Zhao, the most precious thing in this world is talent. Seeking talent is like knocking on jade. If it can be obtained easily, it is not a beautiful jade, but a stubborn stone."
"He avoided seeing me today because he wanted to see if I was the one worth assisting, and also to test my patience."
"So, are we really coming back tomorrow?"
"Come on, we're running out of time!"
"But next time I come, mere courtesy will not be enough. I will bring true sincerity, sincerity that will compel this great scholar from Jiangnan to come out of seclusion."
"What is Your Highness?" Xiao Zhao asked, looking at Yang Yan from the side.
"Although the gentry of Jiangnan hold high positions in the court, they have no real power... What Yu Shiji truly desires is an opportunity for the sons of Jiangnan to no longer be seen as 'Southerners,' but to truly participate in confidential matters and wield real power. Yu Shinan, however, is different; he is a scholar who cares about the continuation of his literary tradition..."
……
It was lunchtime in the camp.
Thirty large pots steamed, the aroma of millet porridge mingling with the smell of pickled vegetables. Each team formed a circle, with the team leader standing in the middle, calling out names one by one.
"Zhang San!"
"arrive!"
"Li Si!"
"arrive!"
"Wang Wu... Wang Wu? What the hell are you spacing out for? That's a rice scoop, not a woman's face! Here!"
Amidst a burst of laughter, the young soldier named Wang Wu, his face flushed, shouted "Here!" He was a raw recruit, barely eighteen years old, from the countryside of Longxi, with a thick rural accent, and his trousers were still splattered with mud.
On the other hand, the atmosphere in Zhao Tiezhu's team was rather tense.
Because Zhao Tiezhu lost to Qin Qiong in an arm wrestling match in front of the entire army that morning, according to the bet, the whole team would only get one meal a quarter of an hour for dinner. At this moment, the forty-nine men could only squat by the pot, watching the other teams devour their food, their Adam's apples bobbing up and down, their stomachs rumbling incessantly.
"It's all your fault, why did you have to show off?" An old soldier nudged Zhao Tiezhu with his elbow and muttered irritably.
Zhao Tiezhu stiffened his neck, his face turning a deep purplish-red: "I...I didn't beg you to join my team! Besides, that's General Qin! You try going? You'll probably break your wrists!"
"What nonsense are you spouting!"
A loud shout, like a thunderclap from a clear sky, instantly silenced all the whispers.
Everyone was startled and looked up abruptly.
Qin Qiong appeared out of nowhere. He wasn't wearing armor today, only a coarse cloth shirt soaked with sweat. In his hand, he carried a rough, large earthenware bowl filled with millet rice, topped with several thick, oily pieces of cured meat.
"General!" The crowd hurriedly tried to stand up and pay their respects.
"sit down!"
Qin Qiong didn't mind that the ground was dirty. He squatted down next to Zhao Tiezhu and put the bowl of rice on the ground with a thud.
"We ate together, we lost together, so who's to blame? Is it Zhao Tiezhu's fault for not having enough strength? Or is it your bad luck to be assigned to this team?"
Qin Qiong's tiger-like eyes swept over the group, his gaze sharp as knives: "If you have someone to blame, blame yourself for not being ruthless enough, for not being united enough! Without unity, you're just a pile of loose sand. Forget about dinner, you wouldn't even know how you died on the battlefield!"
He suddenly stretched out his chopsticks and pointed at Zhao Tiezhu: "Zhao Tiezhu."
"Here!" Zhao Tiezhu straightened his back reflexively.
"Tell me, out of our team of forty-nine, how many are left-handed?"
"Huh?" Zhao Tiezhu was stunned, his mouth agape. His expression was even more bewildered than when he lost the arm wrestling match. "Left...left-handed?"
Qin Qiong snorted coldly, then looked at the others: "Does anyone know?"
The group exchanged bewildered glances. They'd only spent half a day together, so focused on training and food that no one had paid attention to this.
"I know."
Qin Qiong shoveled a mouthful of rice into his mouth, chewing until his cheeks bulged, and said in a muffled but resounding voice, "Seven. Wang Shuanzi, Li Ergou, Chen San... and you, Zhao Tiezhu!"
"Me?" Zhao Tiezhu pointed to his own nose.
"Although you wield the sword with your right hand, your left hand is 30% stronger than your right. This morning when we arm wrestled, if you had used your left hand, I would have had to exert twice as much effort."
Zhao Tiezhu's eyes widened in disbelief. Even his wife might not know this detail!
Why memorize this?
Qin Qiong swallowed his food, pointed at the crowd with his chopsticks, and his tone became unusually serious: "Because in actual combat, when forming ranks to face the enemy, left-handed and right-handed people stand in different positions, their sword angles are different, and the blind spots protected by their shields are also different!"
"If Wang Shuanzi stands on the left, his knife can protect Li Ergou's right rib; if he stands on the wrong side, the two knives will collide, handing him his life to the enemy!"
"You are a team, a unified whole! You need to know how everyone uses a knife, how to use a shield, and how to move! You need to know your brothers better than you know your own wives!"
He put down the bowl, stood up, and patted the dirt off his bottom.
"After dinner tonight, the whole team will have extra practice—practicing how to identify someone wearing the same uniform in the dark by sound and breath. We'll practice until we can tell who's breathing behind us even when we're blindfolded!"
After saying that, he picked up the large earthenware bowl, turned around and strode away, leaving behind only the almost untouched food and a group of dumbfounded men.
long silence.
Zhao Tiezhu looked at the bowl of rice, then at the thoughtful eyes around him, and suddenly roared, his voice trembling slightly: "You all heard that? They're treating us like our lives depend on it! Practice like crazy tonight! If we lose again, I'll go back to the Yuwen family and shovel horse manure for the rest of my life!"
"roar!!"
The forty-nine men responded with a resounding roar, their voices less resentful and more spirited.
……
In the evening, in a corner of the camp, Qin Qiong was sitting on an earthen platform, sharpening his knife.
The rough whetstone rubbed against the blade of the sword, producing a monotonous yet deadly "shush-shush" sound. The setting sun cast his broad shadow long, making him look like an iron-cast war god.
Footsteps sounded, and Li Jing walked over, his expression even more solemn than the twilight.
"How is it?" Qin Qiong didn't even look up, focusing on the blade in his hand.
"There are traps, and more than one."
Li Jing sat down beside him, took out the oil paper package from his bosom, and slowly opened it.
Qin Qiong stopped what he was doing, took the oiled paper package, and examined it carefully in the last glimmer of daylight. It contained several dark fragments of caltrops and half a broken arrow.
"This is..." Qin Qiong's pupils contracted sharply, his fingertip lightly tracing the broken stub of the arrow. "Illegally forged?"
"Yes. The arrowheads were made of impurities from pig iron. Although they were rough, they were coated with poison." Li Jing's voice was very low, only the two of them could hear it. "This poison is 'blood-sealing throat', which is commonly used by the Liao people of Lingnan. Although it won't kill you instantly, it's enough to make your wounds fester and render you unable to fight."
"This wasn't the work of the Imperial Guards." Qin Qiong's eyes turned icy, and a violent killing intent surged from him. "Yuwen Huaji may be arrogant, but he wouldn't dare use such underhanded tactics right under the Emperor's nose. Is this... an attempt to kill someone using someone else?"
"It seems someone doesn't want this exercise to be too 'clean'."
Qin Qiong swiftly sheathed his broadsword, letting out a clear, resonant dragon's roar: "Whatever ghosts or demons they are, since they dare to extend their claws, then chop them down!"
The two exchanged a glance, but before they could speak, Shen Guang rushed over, covered in sweat and with a livid face.
Just then, Shen Guang rushed over, his face grave: "Chief Clerk, Commandant Qin, something has happened."
"What is it?"
"The ropes our team was assigned..." Shen Guang lowered his voice, "have been tampered with. They look intact on the outside, but most of the hemp rope in the middle has been cut off, and they'll snap if you exert any force."
Li Jing and Qin Qiong stood up at the same time.
"Also," Shen Guang added, "during the afternoon drills, I noticed two people constantly wandering between the teams, seemingly chatting idly, but their eyes were always on the equipment and personnel of each team. One of them... had thick calluses on the web of his right hand, the hand of someone who had been holding a knife for many years. But he claimed to be a cook."
A fierce glint flashed in Qin Qiong's eyes: "Where is he?"
It was here a moment ago, but it's gone now.
……
As night slowly fell, a campfire was lit at the campsite.
Inside the central command tent, Yang Yan listened to Li Jing's report, tapped his fingers lightly on the table, his face revealing neither joy nor anger.
"Barbed wire, private arrows, cut ropes, and spies..." he repeated softly.
"Your Highness, what should we do about this?" Li Jing asked.
A cold glint flashed in Yang Yan's eyes. "Since some people want to play dirty tricks, we'll play along. But the rules will have to be followed."
"What does Your Highness mean?"
"Li Jing," Yang Yan looked at him, "did your reconnaissance today find a suitable place to 'turn the tables'?"
Li Jing thought for a moment and nodded: "There are three places."
"Then let's choose a spot and set up a proper campsite." Yang Yan stood up, walked to the tent, and looked at the flickering campfire outside. "They've buried barbed wire, so we'll set up tripwires. They've sent spies, so we'll spread false information. They want to make it impossible for us to move an inch in the mountains..."
He turned around, the candlelight flickering in his eyes: "Then let's go to the battlefield and let them know whose territory this thirty miles of mountains and forests truly is."