Amidst the rising and falling voices petitioning and beseeching the soldiers to open the gates, the Mongolian soldiers get within about a mile of the city walls, and they stop approaching.
“Archers, ready —!” Shouts someone at the top of the wall.
All at once, the captives below them are in a panic. They all rush towards the wall, squeezing against it as they look up with terrified looks on their faces. Thankfully, the arrows are only pointing at the Mongols and not at them.
“Open the gates! Open the gates! I’m Lord Shen! Open the gates already!” The middle-aged man runs up and bangs at the door. Finally, the city gate creaks in the dark, the gears grind against each other, and the side door opens a crack. The captives push and shove in their haste to get into the city, and many end up getting squeezed into the moat.
The Mongols were not expecting the captives to escape into the city on this very night, and caught off guard, did not form a division in time to charge through the city gates, so they can only retreat.
Wu Du uses his elbows to shield Duan Ling from the captives to either side of them as they squeeze into the city.
Before they know it almost everyone has managed to enter the city, with Duan Ling dragging the feverish, unconscious young man along. As soon as they get through the city gates, there are noises behind him as two soldiers charge over to hold him down.
It’s pandemonium in the darkness. Duan Ling is tied up with rope again, pushed out of the way by the arm, and a soldier orders him to kneel. Wu Du is going ah, ah, pushing people away from him. Duan Ling calls out to him right away in Tangut, “Dad! I’m over here!”
Wu Du comes over to protect Duan Ling, shielding him. They hear someone saying in Han, “Everyone who’s Han come this way!”
In the chaos, the soldiers begin to count them.
“Take the Khitans over here!”
“We’re Tangut!” Duan Ling yells. His voice is mixed with Wu Du’s unintelligible noises.
“Over here!”
In a flash, Khitans, Tangut, Semu, as well as those who came from minor tribes beyond the Great Wall and the Han are sorted into their castes, and the castes form into respective lines, quieting down. Once those hundred people have been sorted, the clip-clop of horseshoes echoes down the avenue as a division of soldiers gallop their way.
“What’s going on here?” A high-ranking military officer dismounts and asks.
“General.” The officer in charge of city defence steps out of the crowd. “One hundred and twelve captives have escaped into the city. In case there are spies among them, we must first interrogate them.”
Torchlight shines onto the terrified faces of the captives, and the captain’s expression darkens somewhat. He’s probably the Patrol Captain of Luoyang, Duan Ling thinks. Letting people into the city in the middle of a conflict between two armies is an extremely risky endeavour; after all, there could be spies among them. He just has to say one thing and everyone here will lose their head.
Wu Du is utterly tense. If that captain says “kill them all”, he may just have to kill them first before fleeing with Duan Ling so they can go into hiding in the city.
Every single one of them feels as though their heart is about to jump out of their mouth, and finally, the captain says, “Take them away and question them carefully in case of spies.”
Then and only then do the captives let out a collective breath. The Khitans may have governed the north for a long time now, but they’re no longer as ruthless as they used to be during the time of the Battle of Shangzi. Since the Founding Emperor of Liao, they have begun to mimic the political rule the Han use to rule over the Han; Han language and philosophy is also being widely disseminated among the Khitan upper crust. Many among the Khitans use Han characters like “benevolence”, “justice”, “rites”, “wisdom”, and “faith” in the naming of their children. From there it is enough to glean that they’re different from the cruel, murderous and still barbaric Mongols.
The captain turns around as he’s about to go, but Duan Ling stops him by saying in Khitan, “General, there’s a wounded soldier here. I think he may be someone important.”
The officer walks up to Duan Ling, and realising what he wants to do, Wu Du carries the feverish man to him. The man is dressed in expensive clothing and seems to be a warrior as opposed to a commoner. As soon as Duan Ling saw him earlier he thought there has to be more to him. Predictably, when the captain sees the man, he says in shock, “Shulü Rui? Hurry and get him some medical help!”
“And there’s also this … Eh? Where’d he go?” Duan Ling looks around, trying to find the man named Shen Chong, but it seems he’s hiding all the way in the back.
“Shen Chong?” The captain asks.
“General Wen … Please let me live!” Shen Chong is so terrified his soul has flown halfway out of his body. “General! Spare me!”
“Take him away as well,” the captain says.
Duan Ling didn’t expect that Shen Chong would be so scared, but on second thought, he remembers — oh yeah, this guy is an official of Liao, but he’d run away before the battle even began. Now that he’s run back into the city, of course he’s going to be worried that he’d be caught by the soldiers and be charged with dereliction of duty. But doesn’t this particular official seem a lot higher ranked than Shen Chong? Even though warriors reign supreme in Liao’s bureaucracy, Shen Chong doesn’t have to be this scared, does he?
The soldiers take Shen Chong as well as that man away with them, and the captain doesn’t speak more before he mounts his horse and leaves. The city defence force separates the captives by tribe then, and takes them away to interrogate in separate rooms. Out of a hundred or so captives, only Duan Ling and Wu Du are “Tangut”, so they’re placed together with the Khitans for their questioning.
When they get to Wu Du, Duan Ling answers them in fluent Khitan to inform the soldiers that they’re father and son, originally come here to trade. His dad is both deaf and mute, and he got caught by the Mongol horde along the way. While they were under lock and key, a vigilante warrior saved them in the middle of the night and let everyone go.
Duan Ling has a rather favourable opinion of the city guard. After all, people who’d open the gates without hesitation to save innocent commoners are ultimately good people.
“Who’d you learn to speak bureaucratic Khitan from?” The guard says, “How come you have a Shangjing accent?”
“I went to school in Shangjing when I was little.”
“You must have had a hard time.” The guard signs decisively with his brush and says, “Go find some way to make a living. There’re too many people in the city right now and we don’t have time to worry about you two.”
“That’s alright,” Duan Ling replies.
“Take this sheet of paper.” The guard adds, “You can receive ten days of rations outside the Office of the Citizenry. There’s not much else we can do for you. You mustn’t cheat or swindle anyone, or commit theft or robbery. Crimes committed inside the city are sentenced one level harsher.”
Duan Ling has a clever tongue, and he rises with a smile to bow at the city guard. “May the gods of both the heaven and the earth watch over you, my lord.”
Duan Ling has a pretty face, to begin with, and when he smiles he seems ever more approachable. All his life he’s taken full advantage of his looks, and wherever it would do for people not to make things difficult for him, they would often try not to do so. The interrogation is also quite simple. They receive their temporary household register papers, and now that the papers are stamped, they’d become temporary residents of Luoyang.
As they leave the city wall behind them, the sun is just rising. The Mongols have already surrounded the city for more than ten days, and everything here has remained the same; shops on both sides of the street are still open for business.
Inside Wu Du’s waist purse they still have some silver bits hidden away, and he gives them to Duan Ling. Duan Ling exchanges the money for coppers and buys them some beef. He sits by the river with Wu Du, and they’ll just have to worry about things like finding a place to stay once they eat first.
“What do we do now?” Duan Ling says quietly.
No one nearby is paying attention to them, so Wu Du says, “Let’s wait for Chang Liujun to get in touch. There’s no hurry. I can’t believe Luoyang just let us into the city like this.”
“These are simple people,” Duan Ling says, “back when Shangjing fell and a hundred thousand refugees went south to the central plains, Luoyang also took in everyone.”
He still remembers that one winter that left him such a deep impression because it was so cold; if it hasn’t been for the city’s derelict temple, he would have been nothing but bones on the wasteland by now. This city’s saved his life before, so if he gets a chance he’s definitely going to repay it in kind. He just hopes it can withstand the Mongols’ siege.
All it’d take is for winter to come. Once it starts to snow and the city walls ice over, the Mongols really won’t be able to break through anymore, and they’ll have no other option but to return to the north.
There’s a bright sun shining down from above. The scenery in the mountains is bleak; the weather has already gone cold and fallen leaves dance in the whistling, autumn winds. Chang Pin fords the river on horseback, checking his map as he examines the road.
First, he’ll meet up with the Ye army out woodcutting, then he’ll ask them to take him back to Ye. Before winter comes, he’ll travel south to Jiangzhou.
There’s a rustling noise somewhere behind him, and Benxiao immediately turns to look. Sensing danger hiding in the jungle, it tries to struggle out of the rope.
Sitting on horseback, Chang Pin has sensed it as well.
“Gup!” Worried that it may be a tiger or jackals late autumn hunting for food in the forest, Chang Pin turns his horse around swiftly to take the mountain path.
Suddenly, a scream strikes terror into Chang Pin’s heart.
That was a human scream!
The body of a man in black drops from a high cliff nearby, making a dull thud.
Right after that, there’s another. It falls headfirst to the ground, the body’s brains and blood splashing in every direction.
A third corpse rolls down the mountain path and falls between the cliffs.
Chang Pin doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t shout to ask who’s there either, and merely stops his horse on the mountain path quietly, waiting for the other party to show themself.
Sporadic noises come out of the forest behind him as though someone is trying to get away, but then another sound moves from right in front of him to behind him. Along with that sound comes a muffled cry.
After that, a fourth corpse drops out of the bushes.
“Zheng Yan?” Chang Pin says.
A man finally shows himself, slipping out from the forest. To his surprise, it’s Lang Junxia in a set of officer’s robes in two-tone blue and black.
“Ah, so I see it’s Lord Wuluohou Mu,” Chang Pin says with a smile.
“Master Chang Pin. It’s been a long time.”
Holding the reins with one hand, Chang Pin turns around slightly to face Lang Junxia. “What are you doing here all of a sudden, my lord?”
“Whatever you came here for, I have come for the same, of course. Where’s Wang Shan and Wu Du?”
Chang Pin’s expression darkens a smidgen as countless ideas flash across his mind; first, he’s deduced that it seems some members of the Shadow Guard had been following him, and they’ve been killed by this assassin. The Shadow Guard is the crown prince’s, and this knave is also the crown prince’s. Since he would raise his weapon against those in the Shadow Guard, then perhaps he has his personal position to think of, which actually makes him a friend and not a foe.
Chang Pin considers this for a moment before replying, “Those two have gone on to Zhongjing, and they’ve asked me to take a message back to His Majesty.”
“What’s the message?” Lang Junxia replies in the same insipid tone.
“The situation in the north could change at any given time, so I must head back to Jiangzhou as soon as possible. Thank you for saving my life, my lord.”
Instead of waiting for him to speak, Chang Pin dismounts and salutes Lang Junxia.
Lang Junxia has his sword in his hand. He’s just killed off four members of the Shadow Guard, but somehow there doesn’t seem to be much blood on his clothes. He ponders to himself silently for a moment, then he sheathes his sword without saying anything.
After Chang Pin bows, he simply stands still, waiting for Lang Junxia to speak.
A long time passes before Lang Junxia says to Chang Pin, “I’m guessing that Chancellor Mu probably sent you to Runan to find a little something.”
As soon as he says this, Chang Pin looks puzzled. Then he says, “Runan? Why do you say so, my lord? Oh, never mind, there’s no harm in telling you. This trip of mine was to Zhongjing, to find my shishu, Fei Hongde.”
Lang Junxia nods, makes an affirmative sound in his throat, and says, “There’s no need for all this scheming to dig up that old affair in Runan anymore, Chang Pin. Truth is, the real crown prince has been at your side all along. He’s Wang Shan.”
Chang Pin’s expression goes from calm to stunned in an instant, but before he’s recovered from the shock, Lang Junxia has already flicked his sword hilt up with his thumb, and with a single slash out and across, the tip of his sword is just at the right distance to glance the side of Chang Pin’s neck. Blood sprays out to paint the sky above them.
Chang Pin shakes and shakes as he pushes against the wound at the side of his neck with his hand; after a long series of spasms, he collapses onto the ground.
“I told you that secret before you died,” Lang Junxia says without any emotion at all, “so that you could rest in peace. Safe journey, Master Chang Pin.”
When he finishes saying this to him, Lang Junxia kicks Chang Pin’s body off the cliff. Eyes wide open, Chang Pin rolls into the valley from a lofty height, falling onto the exposed rockface at the side of the mountain, landing with a dull thud.
Echoes reverberate through the mountains as Lang Junxia tosses the assassins of the Shadow Guard into the abyss one by one. Once he’s done, he unties the rope tying the two horses together.
Benxiao stares at Lang Junxia with a guarded look in his eyes, but Lang Junxia’s expression softens a smidgen then. He raises a hand, putting it in front of Benxiao. Benxiao just stands there without moving. A heartbeat later, Lang Junxia whistles, take one step forward and gets on its back.
Benxiao hesitates for a moment but ultimately does not toss Lang Junxia off.
“Gup!” Lang Junxia steers Benxiao onwards, turning it back in the direction of Luoyang.
This translation is by foxghost, on tumblr and kofi. I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, it was reposted without permission. Do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎
Amidst the rising and falling voices petitioning and beseeching the soldiers to open the gates, the Mongolian soldiers get within about a mile of the city walls, and they stop approaching.
“Archers, ready —!” Shouts someone at the top of the wall.
All at once, the captives below them are in a panic. They all rush towards the wall, squeezing against it as they look up with terrified looks on their faces. Thankfully, the arrows are only pointing at the Mongols and not at them.
“Open the gates! Open the gates! I’m Lord Shen! Open the gates already!” The middle-aged man runs up and bangs at the door. Finally, the city gate creaks in the dark, the gears grind against each other, and the side door opens a crack. The captives push and shove in their haste to get into the city, and many end up getting squeezed into the moat.
The Mongols were not expecting the captives to escape into the city on this very night, and caught off guard, did not form a division in time to charge through the city gates, so they can only retreat.
Wu Du uses his elbows to shield Duan Ling from the captives to either side of them as they squeeze into the city.
Before they know it almost everyone has managed to enter the city, with Duan Ling dragging the feverish, unconscious young man along. As soon as they get through the city gates, there are noises behind him as two soldiers charge over to hold him down.
It’s pandemonium in the darkness. Duan Ling is tied up with rope again, pushed out of the way by the arm, and a soldier orders him to kneel. Wu Du is going ah, ah, pushing people away from him. Duan Ling calls out to him right away in Tangut, “Dad! I’m over here!”
Wu Du comes over to protect Duan Ling, shielding him. They hear someone saying in Han, “Everyone who’s Han come this way!”
In the chaos, the soldiers begin to count them.
“Take the Khitans over here!”
“We’re Tangut!” Duan Ling yells. His voice is mixed with Wu Du’s unintelligible noises.
“Over here!”
In a flash, Khitans, Tangut, Semu, as well as those who came from minor tribes beyond the Great Wall and the Han are sorted into their castes, and the castes form into respective lines, quieting down. Once those hundred people have been sorted, the clip-clop of horseshoes echoes down the avenue as a division of soldiers gallop their way.
“What’s going on here?” A high-ranking military officer dismounts and asks.
“General.” The officer in charge of city defence steps out of the crowd. “One hundred and twelve captives have escaped into the city. In case there are spies among them, we must first interrogate them.”
Torchlight shines onto the terrified faces of the captives, and the captain’s expression darkens somewhat. He’s probably the Patrol Captain of Luoyang, Duan Ling thinks. Letting people into the city in the middle of a conflict between two armies is an extremely risky endeavour; after all, there could be spies among them. He just has to say one thing and everyone here will lose their head.
Wu Du is utterly tense. If that captain says “kill them all”, he may just have to kill them first before fleeing with Duan Ling so they can go into hiding in the city.
Every single one of them feels as though their heart is about to jump out of their mouth, and finally, the captain says, “Take them away and question them carefully in case of spies.”
Then and only then do the captives let out a collective breath. The Khitans may have governed the north for a long time now, but they’re no longer as ruthless as they used to be during the time of the Battle of Shangzi. Since the Founding Emperor of Liao, they have begun to mimic the political rule the Han use to rule over the Han; Han language and philosophy is also being widely disseminated among the Khitan upper crust. Many among the Khitans use Han characters like “benevolence”, “justice”, “rites”, “wisdom”, and “faith” in the naming of their children. From there it is enough to glean that they’re different from the cruel, murderous and still barbaric Mongols.
The captain turns around as he’s about to go, but Duan Ling stops him by saying in Khitan, “General, there’s a wounded soldier here. I think he may be someone important.”
The officer walks up to Duan Ling, and realising what he wants to do, Wu Du carries the feverish man to him. The man is dressed in expensive clothing and seems to be a warrior as opposed to a commoner. As soon as Duan Ling saw him earlier he thought there has to be more to him. Predictably, when the captain sees the man, he says in shock, “Shulü Rui? Hurry and get him some medical help!”
“And there’s also this … Eh? Where’d he go?” Duan Ling looks around, trying to find the man named Shen Chong, but it seems he’s hiding all the way in the back.
“Shen Chong?” The captain asks.
“General Wen … Please let me live!” Shen Chong is so terrified his soul has flown halfway out of his body. “General! Spare me!”
“Take him away as well,” the captain says.
Duan Ling didn’t expect that Shen Chong would be so scared, but on second thought, he remembers — oh yeah, this guy is an official of Liao, but he’d run away before the battle even began. Now that he’s run back into the city, of course he’s going to be worried that he’d be caught by the soldiers and be charged with dereliction of duty. But doesn’t this particular official seem a lot higher ranked than Shen Chong? Even though warriors reign supreme in Liao’s bureaucracy, Shen Chong doesn’t have to be this scared, does he?
The soldiers take Shen Chong as well as that man away with them, and the captain doesn’t speak more before he mounts his horse and leaves. The city defence force separates the captives by tribe then, and takes them away to interrogate in separate rooms. Out of a hundred or so captives, only Duan Ling and Wu Du are “Tangut”, so they’re placed together with the Khitans for their questioning.
When they get to Wu Du, Duan Ling answers them in fluent Khitan to inform the soldiers that they’re father and son, originally come here to trade. His dad is both deaf and mute, and he got caught by the Mongol horde along the way. While they were under lock and key, a vigilante warrior saved them in the middle of the night and let everyone go.
Duan Ling has a rather favourable opinion of the city guard. After all, people who’d open the gates without hesitation to save innocent commoners are ultimately good people.
“Who’d you learn to speak bureaucratic Khitan from?” The guard says, “How come you have a Shangjing accent?”
“I went to school in Shangjing when I was little.”
“You must have had a hard time.” The guard signs decisively with his brush and says, “Go find some way to make a living. There’re too many people in the city right now and we don’t have time to worry about you two.”
“That’s alright,” Duan Ling replies.
“Take this sheet of paper.” The guard adds, “You can receive ten days of rations outside the Office of the Citizenry. There’s not much else we can do for you. You mustn’t cheat or swindle anyone, or commit theft or robbery. Crimes committed inside the city are sentenced one level harsher.”
Duan Ling has a clever tongue, and he rises with a smile to bow at the city guard. “May the gods of both the heaven and the earth watch over you, my lord.”
Duan Ling has a pretty face, to begin with, and when he smiles he seems ever more approachable. All his life he’s taken full advantage of his looks, and wherever it would do for people not to make things difficult for him, they would often try not to do so. The interrogation is also quite simple. They receive their temporary household register papers, and now that the papers are stamped, they’d become temporary residents of Luoyang.
As they leave the city wall behind them, the sun is just rising. The Mongols have already surrounded the city for more than ten days, and everything here has remained the same; shops on both sides of the street are still open for business.
Inside Wu Du’s waist purse they still have some silver bits hidden away, and he gives them to Duan Ling. Duan Ling exchanges the money for coppers and buys them some beef. He sits by the river with Wu Du, and they’ll just have to worry about things like finding a place to stay once they eat first.
“What do we do now?” Duan Ling says quietly.
No one nearby is paying attention to them, so Wu Du says, “Let’s wait for Chang Liujun to get in touch. There’s no hurry. I can’t believe Luoyang just let us into the city like this.”
“These are simple people,” Duan Ling says, “back when Shangjing fell and a hundred thousand refugees went south to the central plains, Luoyang also took in everyone.”
He still remembers that one winter that left him such a deep impression because it was so cold; if it hasn’t been for the city’s derelict temple, he would have been nothing but bones on the wasteland by now. This city’s saved his life before, so if he gets a chance he’s definitely going to repay it in kind. He just hopes it can withstand the Mongols’ siege.
All it’d take is for winter to come. Once it starts to snow and the city walls ice over, the Mongols really won’t be able to break through anymore, and they’ll have no other option but to return to the north.
There’s a bright sun shining down from above. The scenery in the mountains is bleak; the weather has already gone cold and fallen leaves dance in the whistling, autumn winds. Chang Pin fords the river on horseback, checking his map as he examines the road.
First, he’ll meet up with the Ye army out woodcutting, then he’ll ask them to take him back to Ye. Before winter comes, he’ll travel south to Jiangzhou.
There’s a rustling noise somewhere behind him, and Benxiao immediately turns to look. Sensing danger hiding in the jungle, it tries to struggle out of the rope.
Sitting on horseback, Chang Pin has sensed it as well.
“Gup!” Worried that it may be a tiger or jackals late autumn hunting for food in the forest, Chang Pin turns his horse around swiftly to take the mountain path.
Suddenly, a scream strikes terror into Chang Pin’s heart.
That was a human scream!
The body of a man in black drops from a high cliff nearby, making a dull thud.
Right after that, there’s another. It falls headfirst to the ground, the body’s brains and blood splashing in every direction.
A third corpse rolls down the mountain path and falls between the cliffs.
Chang Pin doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t shout to ask who’s there either, and merely stops his horse on the mountain path quietly, waiting for the other party to show themself.
Sporadic noises come out of the forest behind him as though someone is trying to get away, but then another sound moves from right in front of him to behind him. Along with that sound comes a muffled cry.
After that, a fourth corpse drops out of the bushes.
“Zheng Yan?” Chang Pin says.
A man finally shows himself, slipping out from the forest. To his surprise, it’s Lang Junxia in a set of officer’s robes in two-tone blue and black.
“Ah, so I see it’s Lord Wuluohou Mu,” Chang Pin says with a smile.
“Master Chang Pin. It’s been a long time.”
Holding the reins with one hand, Chang Pin turns around slightly to face Lang Junxia. “What are you doing here all of a sudden, my lord?”
“Whatever you came here for, I have come for the same, of course. Where’s Wang Shan and Wu Du?”
Chang Pin’s expression darkens a smidgen as countless ideas flash across his mind; first, he’s deduced that it seems some members of the Shadow Guard had been following him, and they’ve been killed by this assassin. The Shadow Guard is the crown prince’s, and this knave is also the crown prince’s. Since he would raise his weapon against those in the Shadow Guard, then perhaps he has his personal position to think of, which actually makes him a friend and not a foe.
Chang Pin considers this for a moment before replying, “Those two have gone on to Zhongjing, and they’ve asked me to take a message back to His Majesty.”
“What’s the message?” Lang Junxia replies in the same insipid tone.
“The situation in the north could change at any given time, so I must head back to Jiangzhou as soon as possible. Thank you for saving my life, my lord.”
Instead of waiting for him to speak, Chang Pin dismounts and salutes Lang Junxia.
Lang Junxia has his sword in his hand. He’s just killed off four members of the Shadow Guard, but somehow there doesn’t seem to be much blood on his clothes. He ponders to himself silently for a moment, then he sheathes his sword without saying anything.
After Chang Pin bows, he simply stands still, waiting for Lang Junxia to speak.
A long time passes before Lang Junxia says to Chang Pin, “I’m guessing that Chancellor Mu probably sent you to Runan to find a little something.”
As soon as he says this, Chang Pin looks puzzled. Then he says, “Runan? Why do you say so, my lord? Oh, never mind, there’s no harm in telling you. This trip of mine was to Zhongjing, to find my shishu, Fei Hongde.”
Lang Junxia nods, makes an affirmative sound in his throat, and says, “There’s no need for all this scheming to dig up that old affair in Runan anymore, Chang Pin. Truth is, the real crown prince has been at your side all along. He’s Wang Shan.”
Chang Pin’s expression goes from calm to stunned in an instant, but before he’s recovered from the shock, Lang Junxia has already flicked his sword hilt up with his thumb, and with a single slash out and across, the tip of his sword is just at the right distance to glance the side of Chang Pin’s neck. Blood sprays out to paint the sky above them.
Chang Pin shakes and shakes as he pushes against the wound at the side of his neck with his hand; after a long series of spasms, he collapses onto the ground.
“I told you that secret before you died,” Lang Junxia says without any emotion at all, “so that you could rest in peace. Safe journey, Master Chang Pin.”
When he finishes saying this to him, Lang Junxia kicks Chang Pin’s body off the cliff. Eyes wide open, Chang Pin rolls into the valley from a lofty height, falling onto the exposed rockface at the side of the mountain, landing with a dull thud.
Echoes reverberate through the mountains as Lang Junxia tosses the assassins of the Shadow Guard into the abyss one by one. Once he’s done, he unties the rope tying the two horses together.
Benxiao stares at Lang Junxia with a guarded look in his eyes, but Lang Junxia’s expression softens a smidgen then. He raises a hand, putting it in front of Benxiao. Benxiao just stands there without moving. A heartbeat later, Lang Junxia whistles, take one step forward and gets on its back.
Benxiao hesitates for a moment but ultimately does not toss Lang Junxia off.
“Gup!” Lang Junxia steers Benxiao onwards, turning it back in the direction of Luoyang.
This translation is by foxghost, on tumblr and kofi. I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, it was reposted without permission. Do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎
