Chapter Eight: Journey Through Flying Sparks and Falling Snow

Chen Tu smiled, his expression deeply sinister.

The campfire before him dimmed.

"You aren't planning on going to Chang'an?"

He glanced at the woman in white. Seeing her nod, he turned his gaze back to Gu Liubai and said slowly, "In that case, I'll offer you some sincerity. If you can obtain the travel permit, we can escort you to Chang'an. But once we arrive, whether or not we will assist you with your affairs will be decided then and there."

Gu Liubai replied calmly, "Agreed."

Chen Tu pondered for a moment before adding, "But I have a condition as well."

Gu Liubai looked at him and said, "Speak."

"We don't like to suffer in silence. Since you have such extensive connections here, if someone is plotting against us behind our backs, you must help us uncover them," Chen Tu said, his smile revealing stark white teeth. "When the time comes, we will settle the score with them face-to-face."

"That is more difficult for me than dealing with the Turks," Gu Liubai stated bluntly. "I will need additional compensation."

"Very well." Chen Tu was not surprised. "What is it you want?"

"Let's wait until the matter with the Turks is resolved."

Gu Liubai thought for a moment and added earnestly, "After sunrise tomorrow, I will have them send someone to the Spring Breeze Pavilion to speak with me. If anyone tries to cause trouble, I will rely on you."

"We aren't skilled at conspiracies, but we are very skilled at killing," Chen Tu said, narrowing his eyes. "We know of the 'Mad Dog' White-Brow. His son is dead—can he even be reasoned with?"

"Once an agreement is reached, you must trust me," Gu Liubai said calmly. "As long as you offer him something more important than a son, he can be reasoned with."

Chen Tu said no more. He stood up.

Yin Shiniang lifted her head. "Is it settled?"

Gu Liubai was slightly surprised. "You weren't listening?"

Yin Shiniang nodded. "I was thinking about other things."

Chen Tu seemed to find this normal, but Gu Liubai found himself viewing this grand swordmaster with renewed respect. To ignore a matter that could cost one's head to think about other things—truly, she was damn impressive.

...

Before dawn, the snow had stopped.

The howling wind continued to roar, carving the snow-covered ground into wave-like shapes.

In the darkness, two hundred cavalrymen emerged from the direction of Wild Wolf Ridge, their horses treading through the snow. They halted temporarily at a windbreak less than thirty miles from Bone-Piercing Gully.

These cavalrymen were all mounted on purebred Shazhou horses of a uniform flame-red color. In the Great Tang, these horses were nicknamed "Fire Dragons," and the price of each one at the horse market was staggering.

With so many flame-red warhorses crowded together, it looked as though great masses of fire were burning upon the ice and snow.

The riders atop these flames wore thick black leather armor, the surfaces of which were etched with unique talismans and lined with sheepskin. Amidst the darkness and biting cold, these cavalrymen showed no signs of shivering.

The leader was tall and possessed a resolute expression. His eyes were somewhat sunken, giving him a gloomy air, and his two eyebrows were not dyed by the snow but were naturally white. He was Ashina Yehe, the infamous "Mad Dog" White-Brow, leader of the three thousand Turks stranded in these lands.

A moment later, another dark mass of cavalry appeared behind them.

This group also numbered over two hundred, but they had more than five hundred horses.

These horses were also Shazhou horses, though they were brown in color. The riders did not wear black leather armor, but were clad in various thick fur coats, with iron plates hanging over their vital areas, such as their chests and backs.

As this group halted, a young man, taller and more robust than Ashina Yehe, dismounted and walked to the left side of Ashina Yehe’s horse.

The young man’s features were seven or eight parts similar to Ashina Yehe’s, though his eyebrows were not white, and he bore a crimson birthmark on the left side of his forehead.

He was Ashina Yehe’s third son, Yehena Wenfu.

"Father, there is no need to use a butcher's knife to kill a chicken; you didn't need to come in person," Yehena Wenfu said, looking at his father’s face, which was slightly distorted by his helmet. "Besides, your old wounds..."

"Enough nonsense."

Ashina Yehe reached out and cut him off. He unfastened his horse's bit, took a handful of oats from a feed bag, and offered them to the beast. "In this hellish weather, it’s only fair to let you conserve your energy. It’s truly stifling for you."

His mount exhaled a heavy breath and pawed the ground excitedly, as if it couldn't wait for the enemy to arrive so it could charge into battle.

Yehena Wenfu felt a flicker of annoyance and asked an attendant beside Ashina Yehe, "When will that brat Liu Muyu arrive?"

The attendant, seemingly well-acquainted with Yehena Wenfu, first pulled a dough bun from his pouch and tossed it over before replying, "He should be here any moment."

Yehena Wenfu caught the bun and began to eat it in large bites. In this freezing weather, such a bun would turn as hard as a brick, making it painful to chew, yet Yehena Wenfu didn't seem to care.

Just as he finished the bun, his brows twitched. At that moment, the sound of hooves hitting the snow drifted on the wind. The attendant laughed aloud and said, "The strategist has arrived."

Three riders galloped in from the south, also mounted on Fire Dragons and clad in black armor. The man in the middle was slightly shorter and wore a thin wooden mask. It provided no protection against arrows, but the craftsmanship was exquisite, carved into the likeness of a ghost, giving him an indescribable air of profound dignity.

Ashina Yehe patted his horse's neck and rode forward to meet them. Yehena Wenfu followed closely behind. When he reached the three riders, the corner of his mouth twitched, clearly wanting to say something, but he forced himself to hold back.

"Khan." The three riders dismounted. The masked man in the center bowed slightly to Ashina Yehe and said, "There won't be many of them. They are not the elite border troops from this region."

"Strategist, I recall you telling me that the Great Tang has many people who live solely on bounties. These people are far more formidable than the average elite border soldier. Ashina Gulu may not be a warrior who can take on a hundred, but for those so-called elite border soldiers to kill him, they would have had to leave behind many corpses." Ashina Yehe was clearly aware of his son’s death, yet his face remained devoid of sorrow or excessive rage. "Was the one who struck the blow the kind of person you spoke of?"

"Yes, and an extremely dangerous one at that. Not only is it impossible to track their movements, but they have also meticulously erased all traces of the traps and ambushes they laid." The masked man, known to them as the strategist, was the one Yehena Wenfu called Liu Muyu.

Liu Muyu was a legendary figure on these roads. Only Ashina Yehe and a few of his closest guards knew his true origins. It was said that Ashina Yehe had saved him from a pack of wolves. When he was brought back, his face had been mangled by bites and his throat punctured with deep holes, leaving him with only a breath of life. Yet, he had miraculously survived. Over the past few years, he had led the remnants of Ashina Yehe’s forces through thousands of miles of terrain, winning countless battles.

These Turks, described as "mad dogs," respected and revered him deeply.

However, Ashina Yehe’s son, Yehena Wenfu, was not among them.

He disliked Liu Muyu for two reasons: first, Liu Muyu was an outsider, clearly from the Great Tang, with an unknown background. Second, he felt that his father trusted this outsider far too much, often appearing closer to Liu Muyu than to his own son.

He acknowledged Liu Muyu’s talent and military achievements, but after all, the blood of the Ashina clan flowed through his own veins. According to his simple values, he could not accept his father keeping important matters from him while sharing them with this strategist.

"How many is 'not many'?" he couldn't help but snap.

"At most a few dozen, certainly not more than a hundred. Perhaps even fewer," Liu Muyu said earnestly, his tone clearly respectful toward Yehena Wenfu.

Yehena Wenfu could no longer contain himself and roared, "Not even a hundred? Then why are we still waiting here! Father, you and the others just need to wait here. If you’re worried, have Shuerhan watch me. I will take men inside and slaughter everyone in Mingbo Slope to avenge my brother!"

*Crack!*

Ashina Yehe whipped the air. The shadow of the lash swept past Yehena Wenfu’s face, causing him to fall silent instantly.

"Unless the day comes when I hand this whip to you, you will not be the one calling the shots or deploying troops while I am present!" Ashina Yehe said, his face cold and severe. "For five months out of every year, the caves of Mingbo Slope are piled high with goods. But who has ever dared to touch them?"

Yehena Wenfu was stunned. He had never considered this question before.

"Shuerhan, pick a few men and go in with the strategist." Ashina Yehe turned to look at Liu Muyu. "Strategist, while you are inside Mingbo Slope, you have my authority to make decisions."

Liu Muyu nodded. "Shuerhan is enough to accompany me inside. We don't need to rely on numbers to bolster our courage."

A look of approval appeared in Ashina Yehe’s eyes, though he hesitated for a moment. Just then, Liu Muyu added, "Khan, since that person is waiting here to meet with us, he will naturally ensure our safety within Mingbo Slope."

Ashina Yehe’s eyes flashed intensely. "Very well."

"Strategist, let's go." The attendant who had tossed the bun to Yehena Wenfu earlier laughed, spurred his horse into the biting wind, and galloped off. Once Liu Muyu caught up, his Fire Dragon accelerated sharply. It was sunrise, and the two Fire Dragons looked like leaping flames against the snowy path—a striking sight.

Yehena Wenfu watched the two flames, his eyes filled with jealousy and resentment.

"What are you unhappy about?" Ashina Yehe’s voice rang out. He hadn't even looked at his son as he spoke.

"He is an outsider, and likely a cunning Tang man!" Yehena Wenfu could not bear it any longer and shouted in anger, "Are you really going to entrust the fate of all of us into his hands?"

Ashina Yehe let out a cold, continuous laugh. "I, Ashina Yehe—when it comes to charging into battle, I am no match for Shuerhan and the others. When it comes to reading, writing, and arranging battle formations, I am far inferior to Liu Muyu. So, tell me, why am I their Khan, and why are they willing to entrust their lives to me?"