An Empty Fort Strategy?

Shi Mo! The foremost expert of the Black Qiang, who had fused martial arts from the northern frontier, the Central Plains, and the Snowy Regions to create the White Bone Heaven Burial Method and ascend to Xiantian Grandmaster! Although he might not rank among the most formidable grandmasters—unable to best Zhao Zheng and only daring to ambush the aged, ailing Yan Xiangxue—the weakest grandmaster was still a grandmaster. He was a supreme expert who had forged his own path and perfected his martial intent! Shi Mo should have been presiding over the Black Qiang tribe; by all rights, he had no reason to appear here. Yet who could blame him when Wang Yu had killed so many of his men? Not long ago, he had learned of the deaths of Naluotuo and Yang Chengwu. One had gone to the front lines at Jinfeng Pass to kill, while the other had served as an undercover agent in the heart of the Central Plains. Regrettable though their deaths were, Shi Mo had not been surprised. After all, neither man possessed particularly high martial arts, and both had ventured into perilous territory. It was hardly shocking if one was encircled by the Zhenxi Army on the front lines or if the other was uncovered and slain while scheming in the Central Plains. Yet the deaths of Yao Changgeng and Mu Yachi were something Shi Mo could not accept. Yao Changgeng was his eldest disciple, the one who had followed him longest and into whom he had poured the most devotion. Mu Yachi, despite his fiery temper, had always been the most caring and dutiful toward him. Two such men, leading a thousand cavalry into the Western Regions merely to "invite" a Prince of Zhenxi who possessed a paltry three hundred riders and at most Ma Bojun at his side, had ended up with the vast majority dead or wounded. In the end, fewer than a hundred riders had crossed the great desert back to the Black Qiang. Shi Mo could scarcely believe his ears! Furious though he was, Shi Mo had still rationally refused the remaining two disciples' pleas to ride to Longshan Prefecture to avenge their senior brother. It was not yet time for war between the Black Qiang and the Prince of Zhenxi's Manor, nor could they possibly abduct Wang Yu from Longshan Prefecture and bring him to Mobei. Soon afterward, however, Yuan Nahe sent word by fast horse: he had pursued Yan Xiangxue and Ardai to Mount Tianshan to propose marriage and celebrate the elder's longevity feast, where he had run into the Prince of Zhenxi, who was also heading to Mount Tianshan! Yuan Nahe had merely meant to report the news and call for aid, but Shi Mo saw an opportunity. Wang Yu had not remained behind in heavily guarded Longshan Prefecture; instead, he had traveled alone with two consorts to the Tianshan Sect to offer birthday congratulations. Shi Mo marveled at Wang Yu's audacity, but he had no intention of letting this opportunity slip—a chance to "invite" Wang Yu to the Black Qiang as an honored guest and extract massive concessions from the three northwestern prefectures. And so he had come, lying in wait along the sole route from the Tianshan Sect back to the Central Plains until he finally intercepted Wang Yu's party. To his delight, he had discovered that Yan Xiangxue and Ardai were traveling with them as well. A double blessing indeed! Shi Mo gazed upon the group with a smile on his face, yet his eyes held a bone-chilling frost, ready to strike at any moment. Mounted atop her camel, Yan Xiangxue fixed her gaze intently on Shi Mo and whispered, "Take Ardai and hurry back to Tianshan!" In Yan Xiangxue's eyes, Qianqian was the sole Xiantian expert in the entire group. But no matter how illustrious her background or how exceptional her talent, she was far too young to ever be a match for Shi Mo. Yet after taking Sun Wenzhu's medicinal pill, Yan Xiangxue had temporarily suppressed her injuries. If she circulated her inner force, she would forfeit any chance of keeping her wounds in check and would surely die within three days. But for a short hour or two, she could unleash her full power—enough to stall Shi Mo and buy the others time to flee back to Mount Tianshan. As for dying within three days—she had not even expected to survive past today! To her mind, this was the only way. Shi Mo let out a sneering chuckle. Quiet though Yan Xiangxue's voice was, she had not used internal sound transmission, so how could it escape his ears? "Qubi Amu is waiting right at the entrance of the town behind you. You cannot escape." Qubi Amu, Shi Mo's second disciple, was likewise a Xiantian. Blessed with keen wits, his martial arts surpassed even those of the eldest disciple, Yao Changgeng; he was the successor Shi Mo intended to groom to inherit his mantle. Yan Xiangxue's eyes flickered. Though alarmed, she kept her expression calm; after all, Shi Mo did not know that Qianqian was also with them. Then she saw Shi Mo turn toward Wang Yu, his tone dripping with malice. "The Prince of Zhenxi?" Wang Yu arched an eyebrow and smiled. "Shi Mo?" Seeing Wang Yu look so unperturbed, Shi Mo felt a flicker of surprise, yet he nodded nonetheless. "Not bad. Truly Zhao Zheng's son—you carry a touch of your father's brazen swagger." Wang Yu chuckled. "You, on the other hand, are quite different from what I imagined. Didn't they say you were in the prime of life? Why do you look like a shriveled old codger?" Shi Mo was older than Zhao Zheng. Nearing sixty, he was far past anything resembling the prime of life. Shi Mo did not answer; he had no intention of dancing to Wang Yu's tune. He merely twitched the corners of his mouth in a joyless smirk. "You killed four of my disciples. Aren't you afraid I might kill you?" Wang Yu threw his head back and laughed brazenly. "Do you dare?" The moment the words left his mouth, the White Qiang warriors behind him and the Black Qiang warriors before him were cowed by his imposing aura, their expressions shifting in unison. Shi Mo naturally did not dare kill Wang Yu. No one knew what would follow in the wake of Wang Yu's death; no one could shoulder the fallout of the Prince of Zhenxi's Manor spiraling out of control—not Shi Mo, and not the entire Black Qiang tribe. If the Prince of Zhenxi's Manor descended into chaos, carved out an independent realm in the Northwest, or triggered a civil war, the Black Qiang tribe would gladly rejoice, provided the killer was not a Black Qiang. For if Shi Mo killed Wang Yu, driving the Prince of Zhenxi's Manor into a frenzy of vengeance and drawing their full might against the Black Qiang, even if the Black Qiang managed to prevail, their vitality would be utterly crippled. The Black Qiang knew their own limits. They only wanted to raid the Central Plains or carve out a strip along the border; they had never harbored delusions of ruling the Central Plains permanently. Such ambition belonged solely to the true steppe overlords, the Xiongnu, or the Xianbei of the northeast. As a mere Black Qiang King who had not even unified the Black and White Qiang, how drunk would he have to be to harbor such grand notions? Wang Yu rested his hand on his sword, reined in his horse, and laughed unrestrainedly, dominating the entire scene. Yan Xiangxue's eyes shone with admiration; Ardai's eyes sparkled like stars; Li Yunxiu's heart pounded against her ribs; and even Qianqian looked upon Wang Yu with a newfound glint of regard. Yet Shi Mo was not so easily cowed. "I truly do not dare kill you," Shi Mo said plainly. As a grandmaster, whether virtuous or wicked, gentle or cunning, he retained the dignity of his station and his own principles; he would not resort to throwing tantrums or spouting base lies like low-level jianghu thugs. Thus Shi Mo said, "Yet I certainly dare invite you to stay on our grasslands for a time. The plains are fair and boundless. For Your Highness to visit as a guest would be the perfect way to foster harmony between the Central Plains and the Western Qiang." Wang Yu clicked his tongue. "It's the dead of winter. Where on earth are you seeing fair scenery?" Shi Mo smiled faintly, ignoring the remark, and pressed on, "It will also be just in time to attend the wedding of my disciple Yuan Nahe and Lady Ardai, to bear witness to the union of the Black and White Qiang." Ardai instinctively glanced at Wang Yu and cried out in distress, "I'll never marry Yuan Nahe!" Shi Mo still did not answer her, keeping his smiling gaze fixed on Wang Yu. Though Wang Yu projected an impressive aura, his lack of true cultivation was his fatal flaw. With victory firmly in grasp, Shi Mo harbored no doubts about his ability to seize him. As for Wang Yu choosing death over surrender— Truth be told, Shi Mo had never even entertained the thought. Given the young man's past conduct in the capital, he hardly seemed the type. "Why has Your Highness not dismounted yet? What are you waiting for?" Shi Mo beamed at Wang Yu. "Must I personally invite you down?" Wang Yu said indifferently, "If you have the skill to force me off my horse, so what if I accompany you to the Black Qiang?" A gleam flickered in Shi Mo's eyes as he scrutinized Wang Yu, a seed of doubt taking root in his mind. By all logic, Wang Yu's best move was to dismount without a fuss and follow him back to the Black Qiang; out of respect for his status as the Prince of Zhenxi, Shi Mo would not strip him of his dignity. The worst move was violent resistance. Though the end result would remain the same, he would forfeit his dignity and endure plenty of suffering in the process. In Shi Mo's view, since Wang Yu had managed to secure his seat as the Prince of Zhenxi upon returning to Longshan Prefecture and had somehow killed Yao Changgeng and Mu Yachi, he could hardly be a fool. Or could it be— Shi Mo shifted his gaze toward Li Yunxiu. Was Wang Yu truly just an arrogant straw bag, and had everything before been the work of the female Zhuangyuan? Then he noticed that Li Yunxiu looked serene on the surface, yet faint traces of tension lingered deep within her eyes. Shi Mo raised an eyebrow and turned to Qianqian, only to find her in an even worse state: her hands gripping the reins trembled faintly, unable to mask the dread in her heart. He glanced over at Yan Xiangxue and Ardai. Ardai looked both anxious and furious, while Yan Xiangxue, though outwardly composed, betrayed a flash of desperate urgency in her eyes. Finally, Shi Mo brought his gaze back to Wang Yu and at last found a flaw: the knuckles Wang Yu used to grip the reins had turned bone-white from clenching so hard. Shi Mo smiled. Playing the Empty Fort Strategy with me? What a fine trio of young actors. If this old man were twenty years younger, you might truly have bluffed me! Shi Mo's hands finally slipped out of his wide sleeves. They were withered and emaciated; had they not been covered in a taut layer of skin, one could easily have believed they were bare bone. "Since the Prince of Zhenxi extends such a sincere invitation, this old man shall not be polite!" With a raspy cackle, Shi Mo vanished in a blur. In an instant, he appeared right before Wang Yu's horse, reaching out to seize Wang Yu's hand and drag him from the saddle. Shi Mo stared into Wang Yu's eyes, already anticipating the boy's frantic panic. Yet all he found in Wang Yu's eyes was a gleam of gloating mockery. In the next instant, right behind Wang Yu, a White Qiang warrior with a wrapped head and covered face suddenly erupted into motion. A brilliant burst of radiance blazed forth, and within a heartbeat, a glint of crystalline frost reached the point between Shi Mo's eyebrows. Shi Mo felt an all-encompassing chill pierce him to the bone, as though his entire body were about to freeze solid. That sword light carried a desolate, deathly chill capable of freezing all creation, threatening to drag him straight into a frozen hell. At the razor's edge of life and death, Shi Mo let out a shrill screech, rocketing backward even faster than he had charged. Even so, a spray of blood scattered through the air, congealing into red frost before it even touched the ground. "Ling Feiyun!" Shi Mo let out an ear-splitting howl. Without pausing for an instant, he skimmed clean over the heads of the Black Qiang warriors in the town and streaked out the far side without looking back, bolting straight toward the northeast. "Disguising yourself to launch an ambush—you are unworthy to be a grandmaster, unworthy to lead the Tianshan Sect!" Shi Mo had already vanished, yet his voice drifted back from the east, thick with venom and fury. Everyone whipped their heads around, only to see the White Qiang warrior pull down the scarf concealing his face. It was none other than the acting Sect Master of the Tianshan Sect, Grandmaster Ling Feiyun! A faint smile broke across Ling Feiyun's stern face. "Prince Zhao's foresight was truly miraculous. That rogue Shi Mo really did come to bar our path."