By the next morning, the rain has stopped, and Duan Ling has spent the night only half asleep with a slew of thoughts making a mess in his head, somehow managing to smoothly and peacefully live to see dawn.
Everything that had happened the night prior feels like nothing more than a lifetime lived in a great long dream, and now he begins to think about how he will guarantee his own safety from now on. Lang Junxia is one of the four great assassins; in other words, he must have a martial artist of Wu Du or Chang Liujun’s calibre or higher by his side at all times. He may not be able to stay within arm’s reach, but he has to be at least within their sights.
What about when he’s at his lessons? Duan Ling’s mind quickly runs through all the possible scenarios once he starts thinking. Lang Junxia probably won’t make a move during the day; infiltrating the chancellor’s estate in broad daylight is too lofty of a goal. He’ll probably be fine as long as he’s with Wu Du at night. Then during the day, should he study with Mu Qing as before? It may be a bit risky still, but living will always involve some degree of risk.
After breakfast, Wu Du takes out a new wooden box and heads for the door. Duan Ling hurries after him.
Wu Du looks Duan Ling from the top of his head down to his toes speechlessly, and comes to realise that he’s still scared about that thing from last night.
“Where are you going? I’ll go with you.” Duan Ling takes the wooden box from Wu Du, holds it up with both hands, and looks at him expectantly.
Wu Du can only take Duan Ling along, his mind wandering as they enter the chancellor’s estate. Soon afterwards, he says quietly to Duan Ling, “You heard everything Wuluohou Mu said last night, right?”
Last night Duan Ling’s mind was entirely elsewhere, and none of his attention was on Lang Junxia’s words, but now that he thinks about it, it suddenly occurs to him that something doesn’t feel right.
“He said that a carriage from the chancellor’s estate was stopped outside,” Duan Ling says with a frown.
“Shh. If Chancellor Mu brings it up later, you don’t have to say anything. Let me explain.”
Mu Kuangda is having breakfast, and as though he knew Wu Du was going to come first thing in the morning, he bids the servants serve Wu Du and Duan Ling each a cup of tea, while Chang Liujun sits nearby polishing his sword.
Wu Du takes the box and puts it down in front of Mu Kuangda, opening it towards him. The inside is separated into nine compartments arranged in a three by three grid with a different kind of medicinal ingredient in each. Then he unfolds a sheet of yellow paper and puts that in front of Mu Kuangda also.
“Lord chancellor, the formula you gave me previously used clashing ‘cold’ and ‘heat’ ingredients, and the combination of the ingredients was bizarre. It would have been easy for any ordinary doctor to realise that it’s poisonous, thus drawing unnecessary attention. I’ve revised the formula thrice, swapping seven of the ingredients for four, and then added two others that are usually used in supplements to come up with this. I’ve given it a name — ‘Soup of Nine Souls’.”
“Very good.” Mu Kuangda asks, “What does it do?”
“It looks like it’s for placating frequent dreams, to supplement for a lack of yang energy, and beneficial to overall health. Once it’s taken, the patient will have less dreams. However, it will gradually trigger an imbalance in the heart meridian during the day. You can see the effects after three doses. The patient will be anxious all the time, plagued with worries, and in the long run it’ll wreak havoc on their ability to think clearly for years to come.
“If they in turn take medicinal decoctions for calming the mind, or heart supplements, instead of helping, it’ll give rise to drowsiness, leading to the patient wanting to sleep all the time. And if they keep doing that, it’ll gradually lead to the failure of the heart meridian. If they try to take tonics made of ingredients that trend ‘great heat’ or ‘great dryness’ such as ginseng and cistanche, their body will start to fail after a single dose. Several more of that and it’ll cause haemorrhaging from the eyes, the ears, the nose, and the mouth, leading to death.”
“Very good.” Mu Kuangda is more than satisfied. “Is there an antidote?”
“Castings of the ice silk worm and essence of the snow snake. One can make an antidote out of those two things. The steps to make such an antidote is written on the reverse side of the page.”2
Mu Kuangda reads the formula over several times, a hint of approval plain in his eyes. He nods slowly. “You really do live up to your reputation.”
Wu Du doesn’t say anything and finishes the tea.
Mu Kuangda continues, “Last night the wind was strong and the rain came violent and swift. Did you sleep well, perchance?”
Duan Ling listens between the lines and realises Mu Kuangda must already know. Lang Junxia was able to guess that Mu Kuangda would know, Wu Du also knows that Mu Kuangda knows, only Mu Kuangda himself doesn’t know that they know he knows …
All these twists and turns are truly hard on the brain, but thankfully Lang Junxia has given them that particular reminder so now they’ve gone from a passive position to a place where they can take the initiative. Though whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing is still up for debate.
Chang Liujun watches Duan Ling with smiling eyes. Duan Ling hasn’t come back from his thoughts yet, and assumes that Chang Liujun is likely just rejoicing in Wu Du’s misfortune again.
“I went to the Blossoms Pavilion last night,” Wu Du says casually, “brought the little one to broaden his horizons.”
“Oh?” But Mu Kuangda is smiling already. “Well you must have enjoyed yourselves.”
Duan Ling apprehensively recalls what Lang Junxia told them: If Mu Kuangda brings it up, just tell him the truth. And instantly several ideas flash through his head and it all becomes clear. Lang Junxia is extremely smart, actually; this way, he’s handed the initiative entirely to Wu Du. The fake crown prince wants to bring Wu Du to his side, yet Wu Du is in the enemy’s camp. So what he can do is sell this information to Mu Kuangda in exchange for his trust first, then lie in wait. He’ll be Mu Kuangda’s retainer in name, but in reality he’ll be on the crown prince and Lang Junxia’s side, becoming a double agent — a far more beneficial result.
Of course, such an arrangement is only applicable to Wu Du — because he’s true to his feelings.
“We didn’t really enjoy ourselves.” Wu Du replies, “A lot has happened in the past, and after some thinking I believe I need to give you an explanation, Lord Chancellor.”
Mu Kuangda is quiet for a moment before he nods. Smart people know exactly when to speak and when to stop. Clearly he does not need to say more.
“Lord Chancellor, I can never forget the kindness you showed me by asking for mercy on my behalf.” Wu Du says, finally, “If there’s nothing else, then please excuse me.”
But Mu Kuangda is saying. “Please wait.”
Wu Du is about to get up, but Mu Kuangda is giving Chang Liujun a glance, and Chang Liujun produces a letter.
“I may need to ask you to do something else for me,” Mu Kuangda continues, “First take a look at this letter.”
Duan Ling wants to see it, but he doesn’t dare peek — even though he’s extremely curious.
Mu Kuangda turns to him. “Wang Shan, since you’re with the young master everyday, even if you haven’t become one of my aides, your position is not far from one. There’s no need to act like you’re treading on eggshells. A young man should say what he ought to say, and not act too far beyond his years.”
Duan Ling knows that Mu Kuangda is clearly treating him as one of his own because Wu Du has declared where he stands. Duan Ling hasten to answer respectfully, “Certainly.”
Wu Du opens the letter and finds an army dispatch. There’s no address, and no signature; it contains some proof of military spending as well as weaponry held in reserve, training plans over the winter, as well as an account of using fourteen thousand and eight hundred taels of silver to purchase Ferghana3 warhorses from Xiliang.
“Can you tell whose handwriting this is?” Mu Kuangda asks.
“It’s Bian Lingbai’s handwriting.” Wu Du says, “A general stationed in Tongguan. Pacification Commissioner of Guanxi.”4
“Correct.”
Duan Ling doesn’t know who that is, so he doesn’t say anything. Why is Mu Kuangda suddenly showing Wu Du a letter? Does he want to send him to kill someone?
“Bian Lingbai has served in the army thirteen years.” Mu Kuangda says, “He started his career in Shandong5, and he’s had more than twenty military engagements with Liao, both big and small, with a mixed record of wins and losses. When the Yelüs seized Shangzi, Bian Lingbai attacked the Khitan army’s rear formation by surprise and was decorated for his service. After the capital was relocated to Xichuan, he was made Commander-in-Chief of the Shandong army. Seven years ago, he joined hands with the General of Tiger’s Might6 Han Bin, and turned against the late emperor at Mount Jiangjun to seize the military from him.”
“Kill him?” Wu Du says offhandedly.
Mu Kuangda doesn’t say anything, and takes another sip of tea. Sunlight slants though the window panes at his back.
“While the late emperor did not bother to punish those under Zhao Kui’s command,” Mu Kuangda says, “I cannot afford to do the same. This man has been colluding with Xiliang for a long time — buying horses, reinforcing his troops, increasing the size of his army without explicit approval. The proof is the letter in your hand. It’s a record of his secretly stockpiling armaments and embezzling military funds to buy warhorses from the Tangut.”
“If we don’t put an end to him now, given enough time he may prove a challenge to the central government, and become hard to control.”
When lives are involved, Mu Kuangda has always been exceedingly prudent.
“I got it. I’ll head out over the next few days.”
Duan Ling thinks, that’s not good. If you’re heading out, what am I supposed to do?
Mu Kuangda says, “In addition to killing him you must also gather proof that he’s attempting to seek independence.”
Wu Du furrows his brows slightly, and does not answer.
“Wu Du.” Mu Kuangda says, “Killing cannot be the only thing you know how to do.”
Mu Kuangda gets up and paces to the veranda. A soft summer breeze brushes by, setting the wind chimes to a light clinking.
Wu Du says, “I’ve met Bian Lingbai once. He’s a highly ambitious man. I share at least part of the blame in General Zhao’s death; he’s not about to have a pleasant conversation with me — he’s liable to pull a knife on me before we even get the chance to sit down.”
“You know how to disguise yourself, no?” Chang Liujun interjects suddenly.
"A disguise is only good for lying low. If I want to collect evidence that he’s colluding with Tangut and seeking independence, then I’ll have to talk to him. Speech, mannerisms — these are hard things to imitate for long.”
Mu Kuangda falls into a thoughtful silence.
“There is another way.” Wu Du says, “I can arrest him, interrogate the details out of him, and then hand him over to you, Lord Chancellor. Whether the testimony turns out to be a confession under duress or the truth, well that isn’t any of my business.”
“That won’t do.” Mu Kuangda shakes his head slowly. “His Majesty will spare this man’s life, that’s for certain. Even if we have conclusive evidence, he’ll be banished to a remote army post and exiled at most, leaving him the chance to make a comeback. What I want is for him to die beneath Tongguan without making a splash — not to have him killed with great fanfare, giving his army a chance to mutiny.”
“What if I go?” Duan Ling says suddenly.
The room falls quiet at once. Duan Ling knows that what he said is utterly absurd, but he has no other alternative. As soon as Wu Du leaves, his own insignificant little life may as well be a slice of meat on a chopping board, and Lang Junxia can slice him up however he likes.
“You?” Wu Du sounds like he’s just heard the most fantastical story in the world, and he says to Duan Ling, “I’m going there to kill someone!”
Mu Kuangda though, seems rather surprised. He gives Duan Ling a glance and says, “Truly, you never cease to amaze. Let him speak. See what he comes up with.”
“Um … I don’t have any concrete ideas, for now. I’ll have to get there first. It’s outside Tongguan, right? If Wu Du pretends he’s part of my … household? Maybe General Bian wouldn’t suspect me if I’m the one to approach him?”
Mu Kuangda falls quiet once more. A furrow appears between Wu Du’s brows and he’s about to speak up to stop Duan Ling, but he catches Duan Ling staring at him imploringly.
“That’s feasible.” With that reminder from Duan Ling, Mu Kuangda seems to have figured out something. “Last year, Bian Lingbai was transferred back to Tongguan from Mount Jiangjun, and it’s getting close to the anniversary of Zhao Kui’s death. What identity can you use to see him with though?”
Speaking, Mu Kuangda turns to Duan Ling, who grows somewhat fearful beneath his gaze lest he gets a eureka moment at some point and notices a hint in his features and grows suspicious. But right now he has no other option but to make this gamble, knowing that Mu Kuangda is only scrutinising him because he’s trying to come up with a suitable identity.
“You can’t be Zhao Kui’s son.” Mu Kuangda mumbles to himself. “Zhao Kui had three sons and one daughter, and they were all beheaded. What about an adoptive son? Wu Du, what do you think? Would baiting him into committing treason fish out what we want?”
Baiting him into committing treason is truly an extremely shrewd move.
“But how are we going to explain why Wu Du’s going there?” Duan Ling asks.
“That won’t be a problem. All I have to do is write a letter appointing Wu Du to investigate the whereabouts of the sword of the realm, the Zhenshanhe. Meanwhile Wu Du will use this as an opportunity to meet with Bian Lingbai. That’s all it’ll take for Bian Lingbai to believe it.”
Wu Du says, “Zhao Kui has a nephew named Zhao Rong, and his father Zhao Pu was a deputy captain of the coast guard under the Shandong jurisdiction. Zhao Pu was shot and killed by an arrow during a pirate7 raid four years ago, and Zhao Rong was captured and drowned. But not many people know that, as Zhao Kui was the only one who received news of his nephew’s death, so we can get in contact with Bian Lingbai under this name.”
“That will work.” Mu Kuangda says, “Let me think about this some more, and see if I can come up with a way that can accomplish all of our goals in one fell swoop. Go home for now, and wait for me to get everything ready.”
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, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎
The ingredients mentioned before these ‘ice silk worm’ and ‘snow snake’ stuff are real ingredients. The worm and snake stuff is fictional, though not new, in wuxia. ↩︎
Ferghana horse. ↩︎
Guanxi means “areas west of the gates/passes”, or areas west of Tongguan, along the western border. ↩︎
The original text used Guandong, which meant “east of the gates”, those gates being the major gates along the Great Wall such as Yubiguan. But since that’s a meaningless location that can’t be found on a map, I changed it to Shandong as that’s the area they’re referring to. ↩︎
Incidentally, this was also Zhao Yun’s nickname under Liu Bei. Historically there were three Generals of Tiger’s Might during the three kingdoms period. ↩︎
The Chinese word Wokou were often translated to Japanese pirates, and the word itself literally meant “dwarf pirates”, but the ethnicity of these pirates varied over time. You can basically think of the word wokou as simply “pirate”, in the same way that typhoon is just a word for hurricanes when they happen in the Pacific/Indian Ocean. ↩︎
By the next morning, the rain has stopped, and Duan Ling has spent the night only half asleep with a slew of thoughts making a mess in his head, somehow managing to smoothly and peacefully live to see dawn.
Everything that had happened the night prior feels like nothing more than a lifetime lived in a great long dream, and now he begins to think about how he will guarantee his own safety from now on. Lang Junxia is one of the four great assassins; in other words, he must have a martial artist of Wu Du or Chang Liujun’s calibre or higher by his side at all times. He may not be able to stay within arm’s reach, but he has to be at least within their sights.
What about when he’s at his lessons? Duan Ling’s mind quickly runs through all the possible scenarios once he starts thinking. Lang Junxia probably won’t make a move during the day; infiltrating the chancellor’s estate in broad daylight is too lofty of a goal. He’ll probably be fine as long as he’s with Wu Du at night. Then during the day, should he study with Mu Qing as before? It may be a bit risky still, but living will always involve some degree of risk.
After breakfast, Wu Du takes out a new wooden box and heads for the door. Duan Ling hurries after him.
Wu Du looks Duan Ling from the top of his head down to his toes speechlessly, and comes to realise that he’s still scared about that thing from last night.
“Where are you going? I’ll go with you.” Duan Ling takes the wooden box from Wu Du, holds it up with both hands, and looks at him expectantly.
Wu Du can only take Duan Ling along, his mind wandering as they enter the chancellor’s estate. Soon afterwards, he says quietly to Duan Ling, “You heard everything Wuluohou Mu said last night, right?”
Last night Duan Ling’s mind was entirely elsewhere, and none of his attention was on Lang Junxia’s words, but now that he thinks about it, it suddenly occurs to him that something doesn’t feel right.
“He said that a carriage from the chancellor’s estate was stopped outside,” Duan Ling says with a frown.
“Shh. If Chancellor Mu brings it up later, you don’t have to say anything. Let me explain.”
Mu Kuangda is having breakfast, and as though he knew Wu Du was going to come first thing in the morning, he bids the servants serve Wu Du and Duan Ling each a cup of tea, while Chang Liujun sits nearby polishing his sword.
Wu Du takes the box and puts it down in front of Mu Kuangda, opening it towards him. The inside is separated into nine compartments arranged in a three by three grid with a different kind of medicinal ingredient in each. Then he unfolds a sheet of yellow paper and puts that in front of Mu Kuangda also.
“Lord chancellor, the formula you gave me previously used clashing ‘cold’ and ‘heat’ ingredients, and the combination of the ingredients was bizarre. It would have been easy for any ordinary doctor to realise that it’s poisonous, thus drawing unnecessary attention. I’ve revised the formula thrice, swapping seven of the ingredients for four, and then added two others that are usually used in supplements to come up with this. I’ve given it a name — ‘Soup of Nine Souls’.”
“Very good.” Mu Kuangda asks, “What does it do?”
“It looks like it’s for placating frequent dreams, to supplement for a lack of yang energy, and beneficial to overall health. Once it’s taken, the patient will have less dreams. However, it will gradually trigger an imbalance in the heart meridian during the day. You can see the effects after three doses. The patient will be anxious all the time, plagued with worries, and in the long run it’ll wreak havoc on their ability to think clearly for years to come.
“If they in turn take medicinal decoctions for calming the mind, or heart supplements, instead of helping, it’ll give rise to drowsiness, leading to the patient wanting to sleep all the time. And if they keep doing that, it’ll gradually lead to the failure of the heart meridian. If they try to take tonics made of ingredients that trend ‘great heat’ or ‘great dryness’ such as ginseng and cistanche, their body will start to fail after a single dose. Several more of that and it’ll cause haemorrhaging from the eyes, the ears, the nose, and the mouth, leading to death.”
“Very good.” Mu Kuangda is more than satisfied. “Is there an antidote?”
“Castings of the ice silk worm and essence of the snow snake. One can make an antidote out of those two things. The steps to make such an antidote is written on the reverse side of the page.”2
Mu Kuangda reads the formula over several times, a hint of approval plain in his eyes. He nods slowly. “You really do live up to your reputation.”
Wu Du doesn’t say anything and finishes the tea.
Mu Kuangda continues, “Last night the wind was strong and the rain came violent and swift. Did you sleep well, perchance?”
Duan Ling listens between the lines and realises Mu Kuangda must already know. Lang Junxia was able to guess that Mu Kuangda would know, Wu Du also knows that Mu Kuangda knows, only Mu Kuangda himself doesn’t know that they know he knows …
All these twists and turns are truly hard on the brain, but thankfully Lang Junxia has given them that particular reminder so now they’ve gone from a passive position to a place where they can take the initiative. Though whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing is still up for debate.
Chang Liujun watches Duan Ling with smiling eyes. Duan Ling hasn’t come back from his thoughts yet, and assumes that Chang Liujun is likely just rejoicing in Wu Du’s misfortune again.
“I went to the Blossoms Pavilion last night,” Wu Du says casually, “brought the little one to broaden his horizons.”
“Oh?” But Mu Kuangda is smiling already. “Well you must have enjoyed yourselves.”
Duan Ling apprehensively recalls what Lang Junxia told them: If Mu Kuangda brings it up, just tell him the truth. And instantly several ideas flash through his head and it all becomes clear. Lang Junxia is extremely smart, actually; this way, he’s handed the initiative entirely to Wu Du. The fake crown prince wants to bring Wu Du to his side, yet Wu Du is in the enemy’s camp. So what he can do is sell this information to Mu Kuangda in exchange for his trust first, then lie in wait. He’ll be Mu Kuangda’s retainer in name, but in reality he’ll be on the crown prince and Lang Junxia’s side, becoming a double agent — a far more beneficial result.
Of course, such an arrangement is only applicable to Wu Du — because he’s true to his feelings.
“We didn’t really enjoy ourselves.” Wu Du replies, “A lot has happened in the past, and after some thinking I believe I need to give you an explanation, Lord Chancellor.”
Mu Kuangda is quiet for a moment before he nods. Smart people know exactly when to speak and when to stop. Clearly he does not need to say more.
“Lord Chancellor, I can never forget the kindness you showed me by asking for mercy on my behalf.” Wu Du says, finally, “If there’s nothing else, then please excuse me.”
But Mu Kuangda is saying. “Please wait.”
Wu Du is about to get up, but Mu Kuangda is giving Chang Liujun a glance, and Chang Liujun produces a letter.
“I may need to ask you to do something else for me,” Mu Kuangda continues, “First take a look at this letter.”
Duan Ling wants to see it, but he doesn’t dare peek — even though he’s extremely curious.
Mu Kuangda turns to him. “Wang Shan, since you’re with the young master everyday, even if you haven’t become one of my aides, your position is not far from one. There’s no need to act like you’re treading on eggshells. A young man should say what he ought to say, and not act too far beyond his years.”
Duan Ling knows that Mu Kuangda is clearly treating him as one of his own because Wu Du has declared where he stands. Duan Ling hasten to answer respectfully, “Certainly.”
Wu Du opens the letter and finds an army dispatch. There’s no address, and no signature; it contains some proof of military spending as well as weaponry held in reserve, training plans over the winter, as well as an account of using fourteen thousand and eight hundred taels of silver to purchase Ferghana3 warhorses from Xiliang.
“Can you tell whose handwriting this is?” Mu Kuangda asks.
“It’s Bian Lingbai’s handwriting.” Wu Du says, “A general stationed in Tongguan. Pacification Commissioner of Guanxi.”4
“Correct.”
Duan Ling doesn’t know who that is, so he doesn’t say anything. Why is Mu Kuangda suddenly showing Wu Du a letter? Does he want to send him to kill someone?
“Bian Lingbai has served in the army thirteen years.” Mu Kuangda says, “He started his career in Shandong5, and he’s had more than twenty military engagements with Liao, both big and small, with a mixed record of wins and losses. When the Yelüs seized Shangzi, Bian Lingbai attacked the Khitan army’s rear formation by surprise and was decorated for his service. After the capital was relocated to Xichuan, he was made Commander-in-Chief of the Shandong army. Seven years ago, he joined hands with the General of Tiger’s Might6 Han Bin, and turned against the late emperor at Mount Jiangjun to seize the military from him.”
“Kill him?” Wu Du says offhandedly.
Mu Kuangda doesn’t say anything, and takes another sip of tea. Sunlight slants though the window panes at his back.
“While the late emperor did not bother to punish those under Zhao Kui’s command,” Mu Kuangda says, “I cannot afford to do the same. This man has been colluding with Xiliang for a long time — buying horses, reinforcing his troops, increasing the size of his army without explicit approval. The proof is the letter in your hand. It’s a record of his secretly stockpiling armaments and embezzling military funds to buy warhorses from the Tangut.”
“If we don’t put an end to him now, given enough time he may prove a challenge to the central government, and become hard to control.”
When lives are involved, Mu Kuangda has always been exceedingly prudent.
“I got it. I’ll head out over the next few days.”
Duan Ling thinks, that’s not good. If you’re heading out, what am I supposed to do?
Mu Kuangda says, “In addition to killing him you must also gather proof that he’s attempting to seek independence.”
Wu Du furrows his brows slightly, and does not answer.
“Wu Du.” Mu Kuangda says, “Killing cannot be the only thing you know how to do.”
Mu Kuangda gets up and paces to the veranda. A soft summer breeze brushes by, setting the wind chimes to a light clinking.
Wu Du says, “I’ve met Bian Lingbai once. He’s a highly ambitious man. I share at least part of the blame in General Zhao’s death; he’s not about to have a pleasant conversation with me — he’s liable to pull a knife on me before we even get the chance to sit down.”
“You know how to disguise yourself, no?” Chang Liujun interjects suddenly.
"A disguise is only good for lying low. If I want to collect evidence that he’s colluding with Tangut and seeking independence, then I’ll have to talk to him. Speech, mannerisms — these are hard things to imitate for long.”
Mu Kuangda falls into a thoughtful silence.
“There is another way.” Wu Du says, “I can arrest him, interrogate the details out of him, and then hand him over to you, Lord Chancellor. Whether the testimony turns out to be a confession under duress or the truth, well that isn’t any of my business.”
“That won’t do.” Mu Kuangda shakes his head slowly. “His Majesty will spare this man’s life, that’s for certain. Even if we have conclusive evidence, he’ll be banished to a remote army post and exiled at most, leaving him the chance to make a comeback. What I want is for him to die beneath Tongguan without making a splash — not to have him killed with great fanfare, giving his army a chance to mutiny.”
“What if I go?” Duan Ling says suddenly.
The room falls quiet at once. Duan Ling knows that what he said is utterly absurd, but he has no other alternative. As soon as Wu Du leaves, his own insignificant little life may as well be a slice of meat on a chopping board, and Lang Junxia can slice him up however he likes.
“You?” Wu Du sounds like he’s just heard the most fantastical story in the world, and he says to Duan Ling, “I’m going there to kill someone!”
Mu Kuangda though, seems rather surprised. He gives Duan Ling a glance and says, “Truly, you never cease to amaze. Let him speak. See what he comes up with.”
“Um … I don’t have any concrete ideas, for now. I’ll have to get there first. It’s outside Tongguan, right? If Wu Du pretends he’s part of my … household? Maybe General Bian wouldn’t suspect me if I’m the one to approach him?”
Mu Kuangda falls quiet once more. A furrow appears between Wu Du’s brows and he’s about to speak up to stop Duan Ling, but he catches Duan Ling staring at him imploringly.
“That’s feasible.” With that reminder from Duan Ling, Mu Kuangda seems to have figured out something. “Last year, Bian Lingbai was transferred back to Tongguan from Mount Jiangjun, and it’s getting close to the anniversary of Zhao Kui’s death. What identity can you use to see him with though?”
Speaking, Mu Kuangda turns to Duan Ling, who grows somewhat fearful beneath his gaze lest he gets a eureka moment at some point and notices a hint in his features and grows suspicious. But right now he has no other option but to make this gamble, knowing that Mu Kuangda is only scrutinising him because he’s trying to come up with a suitable identity.
“You can’t be Zhao Kui’s son.” Mu Kuangda mumbles to himself. “Zhao Kui had three sons and one daughter, and they were all beheaded. What about an adoptive son? Wu Du, what do you think? Would baiting him into committing treason fish out what we want?”
Baiting him into committing treason is truly an extremely shrewd move.
“But how are we going to explain why Wu Du’s going there?” Duan Ling asks.
“That won’t be a problem. All I have to do is write a letter appointing Wu Du to investigate the whereabouts of the sword of the realm, the Zhenshanhe. Meanwhile Wu Du will use this as an opportunity to meet with Bian Lingbai. That’s all it’ll take for Bian Lingbai to believe it.”
Wu Du says, “Zhao Kui has a nephew named Zhao Rong, and his father Zhao Pu was a deputy captain of the coast guard under the Shandong jurisdiction. Zhao Pu was shot and killed by an arrow during a pirate7 raid four years ago, and Zhao Rong was captured and drowned. But not many people know that, as Zhao Kui was the only one who received news of his nephew’s death, so we can get in contact with Bian Lingbai under this name.”
“That will work.” Mu Kuangda says, “Let me think about this some more, and see if I can come up with a way that can accomplish all of our goals in one fell swoop. Go home for now, and wait for me to get everything ready.”
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, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎
The ingredients mentioned before these ‘ice silk worm’ and ‘snow snake’ stuff are real ingredients. The worm and snake stuff is fictional, though not new, in wuxia. ↩︎
Ferghana horse. ↩︎
Guanxi means “areas west of the gates/passes”, or areas west of Tongguan, along the western border. ↩︎
The original text used Guandong, which meant “east of the gates”, those gates being the major gates along the Great Wall such as Yubiguan. But since that’s a meaningless location that can’t be found on a map, I changed it to Shandong as that’s the area they’re referring to. ↩︎
Incidentally, this was also Zhao Yun’s nickname under Liu Bei. Historically there were three Generals of Tiger’s Might during the three kingdoms period. ↩︎
The Chinese word Wokou were often translated to Japanese pirates, and the word itself literally meant “dwarf pirates”, but the ethnicity of these pirates varied over time. You can basically think of the word wokou as simply “pirate”, in the same way that typhoon is just a word for hurricanes when they happen in the Pacific/Indian Ocean. ↩︎
