Chapter 71: The Mantis Stalks the Cicada, Unaware of the Oriole Behind

“You flatter me, Master Tian. The Tian clan is one of the great families of Qi. What problem could you not resolve yourselves, that you would seek the help of a humble merchant caravan like ours?”

“It is inconvenient for the Tian clan to act openly.”

“Oh? Are you saying even the Tian clan cannot afford to offend them?” Meng Di remarked with a hint of amusement. “Could it be the Guo or Gao families?”

“Of course not,” Tian Chang replied with an awkward smile. “You needn’t worry, Brother Han. It’s merely a group of rootless bandits.”

“Then, Master Tian, I must ask you to take your leave. We are here to conduct business, not act as hired fists.” Meng Di rose to see his guest out. Tian Chang’s words were evasive, and with the possibility that the interests of several great clans might be entangled, Meng Di would not risk stepping into such murky water.

“A thousand acres of salt fields.”

That was no small fortune—enough to establish a minor family. Meng Di considered, then shook his head.

“Two thousand acres.”

Meng Di still shook his head and made for the door.

“Wait! Add a trade route to Yan,” Tian Chang called out sharply.

Meng Di halted, turned, and fixed Tian Chang with a cold, piercing gaze, enunciating each word: “How much does Master Tian truly know?” His right hand was already resting on his sword hilt.

Tian Chang, feeling lucky, recalled that when Meng Di first arrived in Linzi, he had inquired with the innkeeper about news from Yan. At the time, Tian Chang hadn’t thought much of it, but now, with sudden inspiration, he’d blurted it out.

Sensing Meng Di’s murderous intent, Tian Chang was confused—what was so secret about wanting to trade in Yan? In recent years, relations between Yan and Qi had soured; the borders were sealed, and only a handful of great clans controlled secret routes. The tighter the blockade, the greater the profits. Many powerful merchant caravans did all they could to learn of these routes. Tian Chang assumed Meng Di was the same sort of ambitious man.

Seeing Meng Di’s expression was not one of jest, Tian Chang quickly explained.

So that was it—Meng Di realized he had overreacted.

The offer was impossible to refuse. Only after coming to Qi had Meng Di learned that trading horses in Yan was no simple matter. When relations were good, travel was unhindered; but once hostilities began, not only moving horses but simply returning safely became a challenge.

“Is this offer from you, Master Tian, or from the head of the Tian clan?” Meng Di’s gaze was keen. Such a price was not something a mere legitimate son could decide alone.

“This is a personal matter—it has nothing to do with the Tian clan,” Tian Chang insisted.

As if I’d believe you, Meng Di thought with a soft snort, all the more certain this involved something far larger, hence the need to approach an outsider like him, unaffiliated with Qi’s powers.

“Very well. Where are these people now, and when do we act?”

“Well… I’m not sure yet.” Seeing Meng Di’s growing impatience, Tian Chang hurried on: “They should be around Langya. Details will be relayed to you when the time comes.”

Langya? Isn’t that by the sea? That’s hundreds of miles from Linzi.

No matter. For the sake of this trade route, Meng Di was prepared to take the risk. Even if it was a trap, he was confident he could escape.

“When do we set out?”

“At dawn tomorrow. A guide will accompany you.”

The next morning, as the first light crept over the sky, Tian Chang stood atop the city wall, watching the caravan depart.

“This is no ordinary merchant caravan—their movements are disciplined, advancing and withdrawing in order. If I’m not mistaken, they’re disguised soldiers,” came a slow voice from behind. A middle-aged man had appeared without Tian Chang noticing.

“Father, if they succeed, do we really hand over the trade route?”

“Whether they succeed or not, the route must be given to them.”

“But why?” Tian Chang turned, startled.

“Because that trade route will be their grave.”

“But why target the Guo heir, Father?” Tian Chang was still puzzled.

“Because of the Sima Stratagems.”

“The Sima Stratagems?” Tian Chang’s heart skipped a beat. “You mean the treatise written by Grand Marshal Tian Rangju?”

“Exactly. I have a secret source in the national government. I learned that Guo Xia rushed back to Linzi upon news of this book. As a chief minister, Guo Xia cannot act openly—he must send his son.”

“No wonder, as soon as you heard Guo Yuan was going to inspect the salt fields at Langya, you knew something was amiss.”

“Hmph. Guo Xia thinks everyone else is a fool. That the Guo heir would go to the seashore to inspect salt fields—is that the best excuse he could devise?” Tian Qi sneered.

Su’er gazed toward the distant city walls, unable to hide her worry. When her father was alive, he had always treated the main family with cold reserve and had once said they could not be trusted.

Her husband was a man of feeling—should he, out of affection, place too much trust in Tian Chang and suffer a great loss, the fault would be hers.

Meng Di, perceiving her concerns, gently took her delicate hand, reassuring her. With five hundred elite men, unless Qi mobilized its main army, no mere private soldiers posed any threat.

“Su’er, I cannot shake the feeling that your father is somehow involved in all this.”

Su’er looked at him, puzzled.

“Didn’t you say your father lived in seclusion in Langya before taking office?” In truth, Meng Di suspected more. Tian Rangju was renowned because the Sima Stratagems had survived for posterity. From subtle inquiries, Meng Di had realized Su’er knew nothing of the book’s whereabouts and only vaguely recalled that after her father was dismissed, he retired to writing—so much so that the ruler himself had commissioned fine bamboo slips and wooden tablets. Yet, after his passing, the book vanished.

At the time, Su’er was young, struck by sudden misfortune, and had no mind to search for it. Meng Di thus surmised the book had most likely fallen into the Tian clan’s hands as they managed the family’s affairs.

But the clan’s secretive movements, tied to the place her father had lived in seclusion, made Meng Di suspect a connection. Yet, as the matter touched upon the mystery of his own rebirth, he could not explain it to Su’er.

“At the very least, we can visit your father’s old residence and pay our respects.”

Su’er’s eyes softened, and she murmured her assent.

By this time, Guo Yuan had already arrived in Langya.

Though Langya was no mere backwater, it was a far cry from Linzi. Gazing at the low walls and catching a faint, fishy stench on the breeze, Guo Yuan wrinkled his nose.

Because of the many salt fields and overlapping interests, the city’s governor was a distant relative of the Tian clan. Hearing that the Guo family’s eldest son had arrived, he hurried out to greet him.

Learning that Guo Yuan was here to inspect the salt fields, the city governor praised him profusely while secretly wondering whether the young master had fallen from favor and been sent to this remote place.

Regardless, he was not someone to offend. The governor showered him with flattery—after all, one ill word from such a scion, and he would not survive the repercussions.

“Governor Tian.” Guo Yuan, glancing at the gaudy women in the hall, felt no interest. He interrupted the governor’s endless compliments, saying bluntly, “I must inspect the salt fields at dawn. Best if we rest early.”

“You… truly want to inspect the salt fields?” The governor stammered. What was wrong with this Guo heir? Salt fields were nothing to see—wasn’t it all for show? Yet he seemed to be taking it seriously.

Growing impatient, Guo Yuan stood up and left without another word.

The city governor was left standing there, at a complete loss.

“Master, a messenger from the main family,” his confidant reported.

“Where is he?”

“Just outside the hall.”

“Send him away.” The governor’s face darkened with irritation.

“Send him away?”

The governor’s eyes flashed as he barked, “The family head is useless—always currying favor with the Guo and Gao clans, yet he bullies us distant relatives. Why should I listen to him? I’d rather serve the Guo heir well myself.”

“But if the family head takes offense—”

“Offense at what? From this day forth, the main family is the main family, and we are our own branch. If anyone else comes, throw them all out of Langya!”

Apparently pleased with his own boldness, he coughed and ordered, “Bring wine and food! I shall enjoy them on behalf of the Guo heir!”