xymnovel Chapter 526 Successful Meeting
Chapter 526 Successful Meeting
Qin Mu straightened up, straightened his robes, and walked towards the door.
He took two steps, then stopped without turning back. "You'll set off early tomorrow morning. Yunluan will escort you for part of the journey to ensure your safe exit from the city. Once you reach the dilapidated temple north of the city, I don't need to tell you what to do, do I?"
Yin Sutang gritted her teeth, her voice hoarse. "No need. I know what to do."
Qin Mu smiled but didn't turn around. "That's good. Don't disappoint me."
He stepped across the threshold and disappeared into the night outside.
The moon-white robe trailed on the ground, making a soft rustling sound, like a cloud being blown by the wind.
Yin Sutang sat in the chair, staring at the empty door and the deep night outside. Then she lowered her head and looked at her severed wrist, which was tightly wrapped in white cloth. Her heart felt like a pot of boiling oil was churning inside her, making her internal organs tremble.
She didn't know how much longer she had to live.
All she knew was that from the moment her right hand was chopped off, her life no longer belonged to her own.
Yunluan stood at the doorway, her hand on her sword hilt, her gaze fixed on Yin's face, her voice cold. "Elder Yin, get some rest tonight. I'll escort you out of the city first thing tomorrow morning."
Yin Sutang raised her head, looked at her icy face, and her lips trembled slightly.
She didn't speak, she just nodded.
The night breeze rushed in through the window, stirring the candlelight in the main room, causing the light to flicker and dim.
Yin Sutang leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and let out a long breath.
........
Two days later, at Hai hour (9-11 PM).
The night wind blew in from the north, carrying the chill of early winter, swirling up withered yellow leaves that danced on the ground.
The dilapidated temple in the north of the city stood alone on a wasteland, surrounded by wild fields overgrown with withered grass. In the distance, there were a few old locust trees with crooked necks, their bare branches pointing towards the gray night sky.
The moonlight peeked out from behind the clouds, casting a hazy outline of the dilapidated temple, like a wild beast panting in the shadows.
Half of the temple gate had collapsed, and the remaining gate hung crookedly on the door frame, making a creaking sound when the wind blew through it, like some kind of suppressed groan.
The statues inside the temple have long since disappeared, leaving only half a stone platform covered in dust and cobwebs.
Several bundles of dry grass were piled in the corner, emitting a musty smell.
Several strings of dried chili peppers and corn hung under the eaves, swaying gently in the night breeze, their shadows cast on the ground like a series of twisted hands.
Yin Sutang arrived a quarter of an hour earlier than the agreed time.
She wore a dark gray cloth dress, her hair was tied into a simple bun and secured with a wooden hairpin, her face was as pale as paper, and there were heavy dark circles under her eyes.
Her right sleeve hung limply at her side, swaying gently in the night breeze.
She carried a lantern in her left hand, its orange glow swaying in the darkness, casting her long, long shadow on the mottled wall.
She stood in the shadows of the dilapidated temple, leaning against the wall, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.
The air was filled with the smell of dust and hay, and a faint musty odor.
Her heart was pounding so hard, like a drum being struck, thumping so hard it made her chest ache.
She didn't know how much longer she had to live.
All she knew was that tonight, she had to play her role well—an elder of the Northern Mang Xuan Yin Sect, a confidant of the Khan, and an envoy sent to forge an alliance with the Northern Border.
Footsteps came from outside the temple.
It was very light and steady, making a soft rustling sound as it stepped on the fallen leaves, unhurried and calm.
Yin Sutang opened her eyes, gripped the lantern handle tightly, and stared at the dilapidated temple door.
A moment later, the door was pushed open.
An elderly man dressed in a dark blue scholar's robe stepped in.
Fan Li.
His white hair shimmered silvery-white in the moonlight.
His face was thin and frail, with high cheekbones and deep-set eyes, yet his gaze was as sharp as a drawn sword.
His back was straight, his steps were steady, and he showed no signs of old age.
He walked to the center of the dilapidated temple, stopped, and his gaze swept across Yin Sutang's face, landing on her empty right sleeve for a moment.
Then he looked away, clasped his hands in a fist salute, and bowed slightly.
"Elder Yin? I've long admired your name."
His voice was steady, neither arrogant nor humble, carrying a seasoned composure.
His gaze fell on Yin Sutang's face, calm as still water, revealing no emotion, like a bottomless abyss.
Yin Sutang's lips curled up slightly, revealing a perfectly measured smile. "Mr. Fan? I've heard so much about you."
She gave a slight curtsy, and the lantern in her left hand swayed, its orange-red light creating a blurry ripple on the wall.
Her voice was also very steady, neither hurried nor slow.
She is an elder of the Xuan Yin Sect and a confidante of the Khan of Northern Mang.
She had seen too many scenes like this before, and knew what to say and what not to say.
But her heart felt like a pot of boiling oil, burning so intensely that her internal organs trembled.
She knew that every word she spoke was being watched by an unseen eye.
She has to play this role well.
Otherwise, she wouldn't even have had the chance to leave this dilapidated temple alive.
Fan Li's gaze shifted from her face, sweeping over every corner of the dilapidated temple.
He looked very carefully, from the pile of dry grass in the corner to the strings of dried chili peppers under the eaves, from the messy footprints on the ground to the faint smell of blood in the air.
He stared for a long time, then looked away, his voice calm.
"Elder Yin, what happened to your hand?"
Yin Sutang's body trembled slightly, a tremor so slight it was like the flutter of a butterfly's wings, almost invisible in the dim candlelight.
The smile still lingered on her lips, her voice calm, tinged with just the right amount of helplessness. "It's embarrassing to admit. On my way to this appointment, I was being watched."
She paused, a perfectly timed hint of resentment in her voice. "A bunch of arrogant assassins, I don't know which enemy sent them. They chopped off my hand and almost killed me."
She raised her left hand, revealing a tightly wrapped white cloth around her wrist, stained with dark red blood that glared starkly in the orange candlelight. "But they paid the price. Five people, not one escaped."
Fan Li's gaze lingered on her severed wrist for a moment before shifting to her face.
His gaze was calm and still, revealing no emotion whatsoever.
But his mind was racing—was he injured? On his way to the appointment? A coincidence? Or was someone trying to prevent this meeting from happening?
Countless thoughts flashed through his mind.
But he didn't ask any further questions.
He simply nodded, his voice indifferent.
"Thank you for your hard work, Elder Yin."
Yin Sutang shook her head, her voice hoarse. "For the Khan's great cause, this injury is nothing."
She paused, her gaze falling on Fan Li's face, her voice even softer. "Mr. Fan, let's get straight to the point."
Fan Li looked at her without saying a word.
His gaze was like two knives, gleaming coldly in the shadows.
Yin Sutang took a deep breath, gradually suppressing the surging tension.
The smile on her lips faded, replaced by a solemn and dignified expression.
Her voice became deep and firm, each word sounding as if it had been carefully considered before being uttered.
"Mr. Fan, the Khan of Northern Mang has entrusted me to convey a message to the Prince of Zhenbei: Northern Mang is willing to form an alliance with the Northern Border to jointly conquer the Great Qin. After the matter is accomplished, the area north of the Yellow River will belong to the Northern Border, and the area south of the Yellow River will belong to Northern Mang. From then on, the two countries will be on good terms and never invade each other again."
After she finished speaking, she raised her head, looked at Fan Li, her gaze calm and still, and waited for a response.
There was a string in her heart, taut and ready to snap at any moment.
Fan Li remained silent for a moment.
His gaze fell on Yin Sutang's face, from her amber eyes to her slightly pursed lips, to her empty sleeve.
He didn't answer, but walked to the pile of dry grass in the corner, bent down, picked up a straw, gently rubbed it in his hand until it crumbled, threw it on the ground, and then picked up another straw.
The dilapidated temple fell silent.
Only the mournful sound of the wind blowing through the eaves and the rustling of dry grass being crushed intertwined in the darkness, like an out-of-tune melody.
After a long time, so long that Yin Sutang's back was covered in a fine layer of cold sweat, so long that her left hand holding the lantern began to tremble slightly, Fan Li finally spoke.
His voice was soft, yet exceptionally clear in the quiet, dilapidated temple; every word seemed to pierce Yin Sutang's ears like nails.
"Elder Yin, the Khan of Northern Mang wishes to form an alliance with the Northern Border. I may listen to this proposal on behalf of His Highness. However, I have a question for Elder Yin."
Yin Sutang's heart skipped a beat, but her face remained expressionless. "Mr. Fan, please speak."
Fan Li raised his head, his gaze falling on her face, and a faint smile slowly curled at the corner of his lips—a smile that was cold.
Why did Northern Mang choose this time to form an alliance with the Northern Border?
A glint of light flashed in Yin Sutang's eyes, but it was very faint, as faint as moonlight shining on the surface of water, and it quickly dissipated.
She had expected him to ask that question.
This is also the most important and truthful line in her script, the only completely truthful line that Qin Mu allowed her to say.
She sighed softly, her voice carrying a perfect balance of weariness and candor. "Mr. Fan, things are not peaceful within Northern Mang. The old Khan is seriously ill, and several princes are fighting fiercely for the throne, resulting in bloodshed. Before his death, the Khan wants to find a reliable ally for Northern Mang, to leave them a way out."
Her voice was soft, as soft as a withered leaf falling from a branch. "The Northern Border and the Northern Barbarians have been fighting for so many years, they both know each other's strengths and weaknesses. If they continue to fight, they will only suffer heavy losses, allowing the Great Qin to reap the benefits. Rather than that, it would be better to join forces and each benefit."
Fan Li's brow twitched slightly.
He had heard rumors of internal strife in the Northern Barbarians, but he had never heard it from a Northern Barbarian himself.
This statement is at least 50% credible.
He remained silent for a moment, the straw in his hand already crumpled into pieces, leaking through his fingers and falling to the ground.
He patted the crumbs off his hands, looked up, and his gaze fell on Yin Sutang's face.
"Elder Yin, I will report what you have said to His Highness truthfully. However, before I do, there is one more thing I would like to ask Elder Yin."
Yin Sutang's heart skipped a beat, but she remained outwardly calm, merely nodding slightly. "Mr. Fan, please speak."
Fan Li's gaze fell on the empty sleeve, his voice flat and emotionless. "Elder Yin, who inflicted the injury on your hand?"
Yin Sutang's heart sank suddenly, as if a stone had fallen from a great height and hit her chest, leaving a dull ache.
She knew that Fan Li was an extremely perceptive person, and he had already seen through the clues.
She gritted her teeth, suppressing her surging panic little by little, her voice hoarse.
"I don't know. Those assassins all looked unfamiliar; I don't recognize them."
Fan Li's eyes flickered slightly.
He lowered his head and remained silent for a moment, it was unclear whether he was pondering Yin Sutang's words or weighing the pros and cons of this deal.
Outside the dilapidated temple, the wind picked up, making the old doors and windows creak and groan, like countless rats gnawing at the wooden frames.
The moonlight was completely obscured by the clouds, plunging the entire dilapidated temple into deep darkness. Only the lantern in Yin Sutang's hand was still lit, its orange-red glow spreading out in a small, warm patch at her feet, like a lonely island.
Fan Li finally raised his head and looked at Yin Sutang's face.
His voice was steady, carrying an undeniable certainty. "Elder Yin, I understand. Go back and tell your Khan that the Northern Border is willing to negotiate. As for how to negotiate, where to negotiate, and what conditions to negotiate, I will send someone to deliver a message to you."
Yin Sutang's lips curled up slightly, a faint smile carrying a sense of relief. "Alright. I'll wait for Mr. Fan's news."
She put away the lantern, gave a slight curtsy, turned around, and walked towards the door.
Her steps were much lighter than when she arrived, but her heart felt heavier.
She knew her message had been delivered.
But she didn't know, and dared not think, what would happen next.
Fan Li stood in the center of the dilapidated temple, watching the dark gray figure disappear outside the door, and the lantern that gradually faded into the night.
The orange-red halo flickered in the darkness, like a firefly struggling in the wind, growing farther and farther away until it finally disappeared where the sky met the earth.
He closed his eyes and exhaled a long breath.
He didn't know if his decision was right or wrong, or if he was dragging the North into an abyss of no return.
All he knew was that His Highness had made up his mind.
He was just a subject, a dying, insignificant old subject.
He opened his eyes, turned around, and walked towards the door.
The night wind blew his dark blue scholar's robe, the sleeves fluttering like a tattered flag.
As he walked past the dilapidated temple gate, he paused, turned his head, and glanced at the dusty, broken Buddha statue on the stone platform.
The Buddha statue's face was blurred, with only one half-closed eye remaining, silently gazing at him in the darkness, like an old friend who had seen through all the secrets but chose to remain silent.
Fan Li withdrew his gaze, lowered his head, and stepped into the night outside the door.
The dilapidated temple receded into the distance behind him, growing smaller and smaller until it finally disappeared into the darkness.
The night wind is still blowing, and the withered leaves are still falling.
The lantern that had been shining brightly in the distance flickered briefly in the wilderness before going out.
Between heaven and earth, only the sound of the wind and an impenetrable darkness remained.