Chapter Seven: Military Might Sweeps Across the Vast Wasteland

“Actually, you’re quite skilled with a blade too, aren’t you?” Chen Tu lowered his head to take a bite of lamb, suddenly feeling a bit bruised in pride and unable to help but say this.

Gu Liubai was taken aback.

Chen Tu squinted and smiled, “And you’re left-handed with the blade.”

Gu Liubai frowned, “How do you know that?”

Chen Tu tapped a piece of firewood with his finger and said, “You tell me first, why do you think there are nine of us?”

“I judged by your style of operation,” Gu Liubai replied seriously. “You like to mislead people but also prepare an extra backup plan. According to military records, you operate mostly in pairs, with three locations involved. But judging from your style, each pair probably has an additional person providing support.”

“That reasoning doesn’t make much sense,” Chen Tu shook his head. “People like us find it hard enough to have one extra person. Besides, even if you hide people secretly, why only one extra per group? Why not two? And why not more groups?”

Gu Liubai laughed, “Looks like I guessed wrong. Then how do you know I’m skilled with a blade, and that I’m left-handed?”

Chen Tu’s face stiffened a little. He looked sideways at Gu Liubai, increasingly convinced this man was sly and cunning.

“In this weather, not riding horses but walking twenty miles of mountain paths without breaking a sweat—no ordinary person, no matter how tough, can manage that without advanced internal energy techniques.”

He took a deep breath and sneered, “Liang Fengning used to be the instructor of the Shanyin Guard, and their internal energy techniques are quite advanced. I heard he came here as a secret agent after being instigated by someone at Shanyin Guard. He won a duel of blades against a big shot from Chang’an and caused some humiliation. You must have inherited Liang Fengning’s true skills.”

“That isn’t hard to deduce,” Gu Liubai stretched out his left hand. “The key is, how do you know I’m left-handed with the blade?”

“You use your right hand to drink tea, hold the bowl, and add fuel to the fire, but the things you carry—your money pouch, for example—are placed where your left hand can easily reach.” Chen Tu sneered, “That shows your left hand is actually more dexterous.”

“Impressive!” Gu Liubai admired Chen Tu. “Seems you can’t hide anything from a truly clever person.”

“I ate a bit too much, I’ll go for a walk to help digestion.” Chen Tu rubbed his belly with one hand, grabbed his cloak and felt hat from the grass mat beside him with the other, and said no more as he headed outside.

After he had been gone for quite a while, Gu Liubai suddenly smiled and asked the white-clad woman named Yin Shiniang, “Does Chen Tu usually care a lot about face?”

Yin Shiniang sensed something and frowned slightly, “Not exactly, just a bit competitive.”

Gu Liubai laughed heartily, “It’s freezing outside; I guess he’ll be back soon.”

Chen Tu wrapped his cloak around himself, pressed his hat firmly down, and went straight to a resting area for a caravan.

The caravan had set up several tents and prepared food. Dozens of people had built several fires, hanging many copper basins above them. They herded horses to the outer perimeter for wind protection. The patches of horse dung on the ground, though unpleasant for cleanliness lovers, served as natural barriers.

Previously, when passing by, Chen Tu hadn’t stopped to look by the fires. Now, standing before them, even though the dung was frozen hard as stone, he hesitated briefly.

Just then, a man from the caravan came out to lead some animals, seemingly to bring a few horses over to feed. Chen Tu waved to him and threw some things over. “Brother, may I borrow your spot to ask something?”

The man was short and stocky. Seeing Chen Tu’s furtive manner made him initially displeased, but when he recognized him as a Tang man and saw the copper coins thrown over, his expression softened. “No need to be polite. What’s up?”

“Our boss is in the fur business. We were sent here first to scout. A young man called Fifteen Brother here boasts that he knows these roads like the back of his hand. He even showed us around and seems to know you.” Chen Tu lowered his voice, looking wary of eavesdroppers. “I noticed he’s quite extravagant—he even roasted a big pot of lamb upstairs. I just wanted to ask if he’s really as capable as he brags about, and someone told me he’s good with a blade—is that true?”

“Haha, what nonsense.” The caravan man, who had hesitated to take the coins earlier, now pocketed them readily. “You’re talking about Gu Fifteen. Don’t be fooled by his age; he’s a top-notch ruthless man. In business, he’s strict and honest—even with the dead. He really has skills. I think he’s willing to show you around because you’re probably dealing in high-end fox furs, not cheap goods. But as for being good with a blade, who told you that? Within two hundred miles around here, everyone knows he was taught swordsmanship by Guo Beixi.”

“He uses a sword?” Chen Tu’s face burned, but then he felt the name Guo Beixi sounded familiar. “Who is Guo Beixi?”

The caravan man said, “I heard he’s a famous swordsman from Luoyang. Not sure why he came here. He seemed to have tuberculosis when he arrived and died after years of illness.”

“Guo Beixi, the famous swordsman from Luoyang?” Chen Tu’s expression changed instantly. “‘Dragon embryo skin with old thistle spikes, grebe wings dipped in white pheasant feathers’—the Guo Beixi of the Canglang Sword Sect in Luoyang?”

“What spikes? What feathers?” The caravan man looked puzzled. “I don’t know that. I only know he was very powerful. In his last two years when he could barely walk, he still killed a vicious enemy with a bamboo cane.”

…

A cold wind swept into the Spring Breeze Inn with the creaking sound of the door opening.

Chen Tu returned, still wearing his habitual smile, though even the two men sitting by the fire pits inside noticed how awkward it looked.

“Digestion is quick,” Gu Liubai said with a smile. “Those two oily flatbreads soaked in tea would normally stick in your throat for ages.”

“I…” Chen Tu sat down, not yet starting to clean his cloak and boots, suddenly deflated like a leaking raft. “How exactly did you know there were nine of us? I really can’t figure out where we slipped up.”

Gu Liubai feigned surprise, “Did I guess right?”

“Fifteen Brother, we’re all on the same side, don’t be like that—it’s bad for face.” Chen Tu tried to soften his smile. “Besides, I found out you don’t wield a blade; you use a sword.”

Throughout their conversation, Yin Shiniang had remained completely silent, but when the word ‘sword’ was mentioned, her eyebrows lifted slightly and her eyes brightened. “He practices swordsmanship?”

“It’s easier to get information here,” Chen Tu glanced at her. “I noticed the caravan men looked at him differently, probably knowing more than most. I asked around just now. You wouldn’t have guessed it, but the one who taught him swordsmanship here was Guo Beixi, who died of illness here.”

Gu Liubai nodded. “That’s not much of a secret.”

Yin Shiniang took a deep breath, as if reluctant to believe it. “The famed swordmaster of the Spring Studio, Guo Beixi from the Canglang Sword Sect of Luoyang?”

“Yes,” Gu Liubai nodded calmly. “Only, by the time he arrived here, he had lost most of his fame, so few paid attention.”

“That’s quite a coincidence.” Chen Tu glanced at Yin Shiniang. “The person you couldn’t track down back then ended up here.”

Gu Liubai looked at Yin Shiniang, surprised. “You knew him?”

“I never met him,” Yin Shiniang shook her head. “I just don’t understand how a swordsman at the height of his fame could suddenly disappear and end up in a place like this.”

Gu Liubai looked down at the grass mat she sat on.

Yin Shiniang’s expression remained calm, but Gu Liubai sensed the grass mat beneath her subtly trembling.

“These details don’t matter,” Gu Liubai said quietly, losing the mood to tease Chen Tu. “I don’t want to waste any more time with you. Unless something unexpected happens, the Turkic Black Riders will arrive here before sunrise tomorrow.”

“So soon?” Chen Tu’s smile twitched.

“My scouts have already seen their signal fires,” Gu Liubai said calmly. “They will spend the night preparing. Whether the storm stops or not, they will come rushing over tomorrow. By their habit, they will kill all Tang people they encounter along the way.”

Chen Tu’s eyes narrowed. “Regardless of relation, they’ll kill everyone?”

Gu Liubai didn’t answer directly but continued, “The Black Riders’ Fire Flying Dragon horses are the oldest desert breed. In this severe cold, no horse can outrun them. Even if a few of you are exceptionally skilled and manage to escape, their vengeful massacre against Tang people will continue until spring. During that time, they will relentlessly harass our border fortresses.”

“These people really are mad,” Chen Tu’s face darkened as if dripping water.

But deep down, he knew well that if he were their leader, he would do the same.

If they do not show enough cruelty and strength, and fail to trouble the Tang border troops during winter, then come spring, the Tang forces will quickly gather strength to encircle and eliminate them.

Conversely, if they suppress the Tang army’s expansion, they maintain their value to the Uighurs or Arabs.

“Whether it’s the big shots in the border army or the noble at Lucao Post, they should know as well as I do how these Turkic people behave. They’re well aware that after the son of the Mad Dog White Eyebrow was killed, these Turkic riders will act accordingly.”

Gu Liubai sneered, “I don’t have time to think about what benefits they expect to gain. Since you represent the Yinshan gang to talk with me, I’ll tell you now: if you don’t show enough sincerity, by dawn, I will withdraw myself entirely from this matter.”