Chapter Twelve: Murder at Thirteen

With just a single thrust of his sword, it was swifter than any technique he had ever learned from the Cloud Sword Sect.

If one could kill the opponent swiftly enough, their sword would never have the chance to sever one’s head.

Yet, for some reason, the moment he launched that thrust, an extraordinary chill spread through his entire body.

In his perception, Yin Shi-niang seemed like a fish swimming gracefully in a deep pool, gliding past the tip of his sword.

His pupils contracted sharply.

As she passed by, the white veil hanging like a waterfall from her hat brim fluttered aside, revealing a long face that was far from beautiful, but her brows and eyes were exceptionally calm and focused, exuding an air of regal composure at that instant.

In the next moment, he felt a biting frost seep into his throat.

Breath failed him, and his strength vanished in an instant.

The sword in his hand suddenly felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds, slipping from his grasp.

With a faint hiss,

Qiu Baiyu’s long sword fell to the snowy ground, quivering uncontrollably where it landed.

Yin Shi-niang stepped back several paces, moving in front of him.

“Dying by my hand is better than dying by anyone else’s,”

she said, gazing at Qiu Baiyu as his hands slowly dropped.

Qiu Baiyu tried to nod but found he could not. He understood clearly who this woman before him was, and he also knew unmistakably that his death was imminent.

“How do you know I’m still seven years short?”

Finding he could still speak, Qiu Baiyu felt a mix of reluctance and a strange relief, instinctively sensing she would answer his question.

“The Cloud Sword Sect’s techniques emphasize foundational training; it takes at least fifteen or sixteen years to truly build a solid base,” Yin Shi-niang said calmly, looking at the young swordsman. “You dared to fight for military glory beyond the borders, so you’re stronger than an average member of the Qiu family—you might advance two or three years faster.”

Qiu Baiyu was somewhat confused. To her, the Cloud Sword techniques were merely a way to cultivate a solid base?

“So if seven years pass, could I defeat you then?” He looked at Yin Shi-niang and asked, then quickly added, lacking confidence, “If after seven years I also learn my third uncle’s Cloud Four Swords, could I defeat you?”

Yin Shi-niang shook her head seriously. “No. That’s just barely entering the door. Swordsmanship and sword intent—the subtle interplay of false and real, the fluid and responsive energy—only come after countless temperings. Mastering those Cloud Four Swords is merely grasping a fleeting moment that is impossible to hold firmly; it’s not easy to discern the true point of killing strikes.”

Qiu Baiyu shook his head.

Such things seemed too distant; he had no time to comprehend them.

“Moreover, the achievement in swordsmanship depends most on innate talent, and your talent is insufficient,” Yin Shi-niang whispered to him. “I killed my first person at thirteen, and my hand did not tremble.”

Qiu Baiyu was stunned. The world before his eyes rapidly faded to gray and white. Just as a sense of helplessness began to rise within him, he collapsed forward.

Yin Shi-niang did not look at the fallen Qiu Baiyu again. Her gaze passed through the thin veil and landed on He Fenglin. “If not for him, the one who would have died was you.”

---

He Fenglin’s face was dark and fearsome, but listening to Yin Shi-niang’s words, he shook his head and said, “I will not die. Under normal circumstances, even if I recognized you as the Frost Sword Mistress, I would never fear to duel you. But today, as the commander of this unit, I will not recklessly risk my life.”

Shu Erhan silently cursed in his heart.

This Tang man possessed an inexplicable pride and a shamelessness utterly foreign to the Turks.

Had this been a Turk, with tensions so high, refusing to fight would be utterly shameful.

“You people are here to assist our Great Tang military, yet now you turn against us?” He Fenglin scolded sharply. “Such conduct is tantamount to treason!”

His tone was severe, but Yin Shi-niang replied calmly, “We are not part of the Great Tang border forces; we kill for bounty.”

“You dwell for years in the Yin Mountains, under the protection of Great Tang, eating our grain, using our money—are you not Tang people?” He Fenglin looked at Yin Shi-niang with utter disdain.

Yin Shi-niang turned her gaze to Chen Tu. “You tell him.”

Gu Liubai was familiar with Yin Shi-niang’s personality, but Shu Erhan and Liu Muyu were not; both were stunned.

Chen Tu smiled slightly and said to He Fenglin, “I understand your meaning, but we simply do not want to die here. I do not know whose orders you follow, but if you kill these two people, we become sacrifices. As for what we have done for Great Tang, surely it is no less than you.”

He Fenglin sneered, tilting his head back and speaking slowly and forcefully, “Individual life or death means nothing compared to the interests of Great Tang.”

His words caused many in Ming Bai Slope to catch their breath. Everyone sensed a spirit willing to die for a noble cause; none doubted that this man in the green robe and his troops had faced such choices many times—always choosing to place the interests of Great Tang above their own lives.

Chen Tu scoffed, “Your interests do not represent the whole of Great Tang. What you do may only serve the interests of certain individuals.”

He Fenglin retorted coldly, “Orders from above are Great Tang’s interests.”

Shu Erhan’s expression darkened, cursing silently. This was the most terrifying aspect of the Great Tang border forces over many years—they never questioned whether orders from above were right or wrong. Even knowing those orders would send them to death, they never hesitated.

Chen Tu glanced at Yin Shi-niang. “No agreement.”

Only then did Yin Shi-niang look at He Fenglin. “I do not wish to kill more people, so I will give you one choice: anyone among you who can defeat me, we will not stop.”

He Fenglin furrowed his brow, but before he could respond, a burly man in a green robe stepped beside him, bowed, and said, “I will go first.”

He Fenglin shook his head. “Wei Chunfeng, you are no match for her.”

“I know. But with so many watching in Ming Bai Slope, I cannot let the military prestige of Great Tang falter.” The burly man in green whispered, “If I die, so be it. Besides, she never said the winner must be by sword alone, nor that after one falls others cannot step forward. No matter how skilled she is, there will come a moment when her strength wanes. I will try to hold on a little longer, so you can see her true techniques.”

He Fenglin took a deep breath, expressionless. “Wei Chunfeng, today either we kill her and avenge you, or we all go down together. You will not fight alone.”

The man called Wei Chunfeng smiled, took a strange saber from a nearby attendant, and without another word, walked toward Yin Shi-niang.

“Was this a spur-of-the-moment decision, or was it arranged beforehand?” In front of Chunfeng Tower, Gu Liubai could not help but ask Chen Tu.

“Of course it was planned ahead.” Chen Tu became angry upon hearing the question. “Last night you ate your fill of mutton and slept like a pig, not fearing you might be slaughtered in your dreams. We have been busy all this time.”

“Impressive,” Gu Liubai admired. “Unseen, they were restrained, and by the time they regret it, it’s already too late.”

Chen Tu had been somewhat proud but suddenly sensed something was amiss, as if Gu Liubai’s impression of him had changed.

Could he really seem that foolish in Gu Liubai’s eyes?

At that moment, Gu Liubai whispered in his ear again, “I suppose you recognized the leader, He Fenglin, last night, so you guessed that once Yin Shi-niang made her move, they would realize she is the legendary Frost Sword Mistress. Under that reputation, they were led by your hand. But this was a risky gambit—if they refused her challenge and charged directly at us, the situation might have turned unfavorable, right?”

Chen Tu’s face changed drastically. He hurriedly whispered, “How did you guess that?”

The invincible Yin Mountain swarm was naturally tied to his plans, but Gu Liubai now seemed like a monster. If faced with such an opponent, all strategies would be exposed, and death would come without even understanding how.

“They have ambush forces outside, but they didn’t strike when Liu Muyu and the others arrived. That means they want to capture those two alive,” Gu Liubai said quietly. “If so, in case of Turkic reinforcements, their ambushers must delay for some time; there must be many lying in wait.”

Chen Tu smiled cheerfully, but inside he felt prickly.

He had never seen such a strange person.

With so many ambushers outside, without enough manpower, it would be impossible to silently kill them all.

So he had stationed the others outside; inside Ming Bai Slope, aside from himself, only Yin Shi-niang, Long Po, and Hu Lao San remained.

He Fenglin and his men had been successfully deceived by his design, believing that charging forward would mean facing other deadly opponents. With this thought and witnessing the terrifying power of the Frost Sword Mistress, they were already resigned to defeat, only striving to preserve some soldierly dignity.

But he never expected that after planning all night, Gu Liubai would see through the truth at a glance.

According to He Fenglin’s deployment, their intent was likely as Gu Liubai said: to capture Shu Erhan and Liu Muyu alive.

But what did they hope to pry from their mouths?

The secret of forging Turkic black armor?

Or some greater hidden truth?

Whether they would succeed in extracting anything was another matter. Even if they did, they would never leave alive.

Moreover, these people had no prior knowledge of the Yin Mountain swarm’s existence.

Having He Fenglin lead these elite troops to their deaths was certainly not the style of the border forces’ high command.

Gu Liubai vaguely hinted this was likely the doing of the noble from Lucao Post.

“You can rest assured about the situation now,” Gu Liubai quietly told Chen Tu.

“How can I rest assured?” Chen Tu felt Gu Liubai was speaking ironically.

“You misunderstood.” Gu Liubai said calmly, “That noble probably treats me as a mere pawn, counting on my habits, sure I would try to negotiate with the Turks. So don’t worry—whether you want to confront that person or not, I will do it.”