A Broken Appointment

Before the words had finished leaving his mouth, dozens of concealed arrows shot out from the dense woods, every one of them flying straight for Qin Sang. Grasping his horse with one hand, Qin Sang lashed out with the other as swiftly as lightning. He effortlessly knocked down the vast majority of the arrows and snatched several in his grasp; the few that slipped through struck his body, only to fall immediately to the ground in an eerie display. He then whipped his hand back with fierce momentum. Several muffled thuds sounded within the forest, followed at once by a flurry of gasps. "Kill!" With a low shout, Qin Sang vanished from horseback in an instant. Zhou Ning and the others leapt from their mounts as well, charging into the dense woods in pairs and groups. Wu Chuanzong and a few others whose martial arts were weaker encircled the horses to form a defensive battle formation, returning fire with crossbows. In the darkness, Qin Sang summoned his crystalline frost armor. Moving like lightning and charging with the ferocity of a tiger, he had already called forth Yanwang as well. Mere hidden arrows could not pose the slightest threat to him. In a matter of breaths, over a dozen assassins perished by Qin Sang's hand. Terrified out of their wits, the surviving assassins fled toward the depths of the forest. Naturally, their movements could not escape Qin Sang's ears. Just as he was about to pursue and slaughter them, his heart stirred, and he looked up toward the mountain summit. The moonlight was dim in the dead of night, and a layer of light mist veiled the mountaintop. Just a moment before, a figure had flickered through the mist; had his vision not been so keen, he would have assumed he had seen things. Seeing that the situation was dire, the spy on the summit attempted to flee. Qin Sang sneered, commanding Yanwang to give chase while he exerted his movement technique and glided toward the peak. No sooner had he reached the summit than he saw the corpse of a white-robed man sprawled face down across the rocks. Qin Sang crouched, turning over the man's waist token. It turned out to be an acquaintance—one of the four great protectors of the Blood Cloak Tower, the White-Robed Scholar! The man's martial prowess was not a whit inferior to Bai Jianglan's, yet he had died here without making a sound. Qin Sang mused in silence. The White-Robed Scholar's ambush might not have been orchestrated by Prince Dongyang; it was far more likely the doing of the treasure-coveting heir apparent. But since they dared extend their claws, they would have to endure the pain of having them chopped off. Zhou Ning silently bounded up to the summit. "General Qin, only one brother suffered a minor injury. Two of the enemies are still alive, and we have them pinned down." "Send the signal. We have no need for survivors—kill them all!" Lifting the White-Robed Scholar's corpse, Qin Sang swept down the mountain and tossed it to Zhou Ning. "Take half the men with you and Wenkui, return swiftly to Ming City, and discreetly deliver this corpse to the princess. There is no need to say anything else." *** In his sixth winter in this world, Qin Sang stepped into the Imperial Capital of Great Sui for the first time as Left General Commander of the Xiaoyong Battalion. The three commanderies surrounding the Imperial Capital collapsed one after another, and the defending generals further along surrendered at the mere sight of his advancing banners. Harnessing the momentum of the entire realm, Prince Dongyang laid siege to the Imperial Capital with his grand army. The capital held firm for three months until its provisions and arrows were exhausted; unwilling to flee north, the false emperor hanged himself within the palace, and the garrison generals sued for surrender. Prince Dongyang did not immediately enter the palace, opting instead to first ascend Mount Chaosheng to pay homage to the ancestral emperors. The grand enthronement ceremony was set for the first day of the New Year, less than two months away. Generals and court officials were fully occupied with preparations for the Fengshan sacrifice on Mount Chaosheng; as for quelling the scattered rebel bands in the northern lands, no one was in any hurry. Qin Sang took over the estate of a minister from the false emperor's court, stationing merely a single squad of personal guards at the gates. Barring Wu Chuanzong and his close circle, he turned away every visitor who came to call. Among the commanders of the various armies, beneath the two commanders-in-chief were the handful of Left General Commanders who could be counted on two hands. The Xiaoyong Battalion under Qin Sang's command had coordinated with the Desheng Battalion in Guize Commandery to achieve brilliant military exploits. Although their performance during the final assault on the Imperial Capital had been somewhat mediocre, it did not diminish Qin Sang's standing in the least. Even if he were not enfeoffed as a commandery prince, a marquisate was all but assured. Yet this celebrated, prominent general possessed such an eccentric temperament that people were left utterly perplexed. Little did they know that after the battle of Duyakou, Qin Sang had seldom devoted his energy to military affairs, dedicating himself entirely to cultivation—sometimes immersing himself in practice for an entire day. Later, after the former Left General Commander of the Xiaoyong Battalion committed a grave blunder, the princess personally came to the camp to see Qin Sang and thrust the position of Left General Commander upon him. This was precisely why the Xiaoyong Battalion had not shone brilliantly in the subsequent battle for the Imperial Capital. Nevertheless, because Qin Sang delegated his duties, Wu Chuanzong, Zhou Ning, and the others received ample tempering, growing fully capable of holding their own. Qin Sang's gains were substantial as well; not long ago, he had successfully broken through to the fifth layer of the Nether Scripture. With the Mount Chaosheng Fengshan sacrifice he had longed for over so many years now right before his eyes, Qin Sang felt his anticipation mount, wondering what sort of surprise that young man surnamed Han would ultimately bring him. Before the arrival of the New Year, heavy snow fell for three days. Yet this New Year was the most reassuring one the people of Great Sui had experienced in recent years. Heavy snow that in former years would have been counted a disaster was hailed as auspicious snow heralding a bountiful harvest—an omen of good fortune. The clouds dispersed, the snowfall ceased, and the skies turned bright and clear. While the sky was still dim, the snow along the mountain paths of Mount Chaosheng was cleared away overnight, and straw and plant ash were scattered over the paths. Qin Sang walked up the mountain step by step, talking and laughing with Commander-in-Chief Feng and General Commander Mu. Before and behind them were senior generals of the army and meritorious ministers. At the very forefront, the Inner Guards cleared the path, followed by Prince Dongyang, then the heir apparent, Princess Dongyang, and several princes. Bringing up the rear were the civil and military officials, escort guards, and sacrificial offerings—jade, silk, sacrificial beasts and wines, vessels filled with ceremonial grain, and an array of ritual goods. Every person traveled on foot, leaving their carriages and litters at the base of the mountain as a sign of reverence. It took three hours to scale the mountain summit. When Chaosheng Palace came into view, the generals, robust and strong, were unbothered, but the frail members among the court officials nearly collapsed from exhaustion. The heir apparent was drenched in sweat and gasping for breath, showing even less stamina than Prince Dongyang, while the princess remained as composed and serene as ever. Officials of the Sisheng Directorate stood before the gates of Chaosheng Palace, kneeling in homage upon seeing Prince Dongyang. Following a succession of ceremonies, the Master of Chaosheng Palace presented a brand-new imperial dragon robe. Prince Dongyang went inside to change, and those below set to work in earnest. Innumerable offerings were carried into Chaosheng Palace like flowing water, while Buddhist monks and Daoist priests chanted scriptures opposite one another. Qin Sang watched the spectacle with amusement, and the restless tension in his heart eased somewhat. At noon, an official from the Sisheng Directorate stepped forth holding a silk scroll. Those whose names were called could barely disguise their exhilaration, yet feigned solemn composure as they stepped into Chaosheng Palace under countless envious and awestruck gazes. When Qin Sang heard his name called, he walked inside as casually as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening. Inside Chaosheng Palace, massive sticks of incense burned before endless offerings. In the center rested jade tablets and jade albums. Prince Dongyang stood still with his hands dropped loosely at his sides, though his tightly clenched fists made it obvious he was far from calm. In the end, only thirty-one people were deemed worthy to enter Chaosheng Palace! "The auspicious hour has arrived! The Saintly Emperor receives his investiture!" The Master of Chaosheng Palace shouted in a ringing voice, raising his arm high to strike the ancient bell. The melodious chime reverberated far and wide across the wilderness. Prince Dongyang personally recited the sacrificial oration. The bell chimed eighty-one times—nine sets of nine. Qin Sang grew impatient with the wait, musing inwardly that these Immortal Masters truly knew how to put on a grand show. As the final chime echoed away... *Skreeee!* A clear, piercing crane cry echoed across the firmament, and everyone raised their heads in utter shock. Across the cloudless blue expanse, layers of radiant mist and rosy clouds had risen unnoticed. The glowing haze surged and rippled, carpeting the entire sky in an instant. Deep within the brilliant vapors, a heavenly gate seemed to loom, steeped in otherworldly mystery. *Whoosh!* A colossal celestial crane broke through the glowing vapors, surging through the void. In a flash, it soared above Chaosheng Palace and parted its great beak; an imperial jade seal, trailing streams of light, fell directly into Prince Dongyang's hands. Meanwhile, the crane's silhouette slowly faded away. "We invite the exalted immortal to enter the palace and rest," Princess Dongyang said, bowing toward the side of the altar table once the crane vanished. Just as everyone was looking around in bewilderment, a figure transitioned from translucent to solid—a plump young man appearing out of thin air. Qin Sang's heart sank. It was not the young man surnamed Han!