Shamoli

With a handful of loyal followers, Shamoli had spent days and nights plunging through the dense forest. He dared not look back, let alone build a fire to cook a meal. Whenever hunger struck, he swallowed a few wild fruits, and when thirst gripped him, he cupped water in his hands for a drink. At long last, he escaped the territory of Eastern Shanyue. When the opulent, bustling town of the Eastlanders appeared before them, alive with throngs of people, the group was struck dumb with awe. Disguising themselves as refugee Shanyue, they were herded into an enclosure to be watched over in a crowd. In the distance, heads bobbed and carriages formed an unbroken canopy like passing clouds. Horses and carts surged westward, accompanied by the lilting, warbling strains of theatrical singing drifting on the breeze. "These Eastlanders... truly live like immortals." Shamoli uttered the words in a daze, finally understanding why the slaves had scrambled desperately to flee east as if possessed. After being confined in the pen for several hours, Shamoli finally spotted a Shanyue man clad in rich garments walking past not far away. Shamoli's eyes lit up. This man was a retainer of the Mulu clan who was supposed to have died outside several years ago. Who could have thought he had merely vanished without a trace to enjoy a life of ease in the east? Shamoli hastily shouted in the Shanyue dialect: "Hey, you worthless dog... look over here!" The man scowled in irritation. Turning toward the voice, he was suddenly seized with wild ecstasy and shouted: "Seize that man at once! He is of royal blood from Eastern Shanyue!" Several men immediately lunged forward and tackled Shamoli to the ground. Though he possessed a cultivation of stage-three Embryonic Breathing, he shrank back and dared not resist. Hauled and dragged stumbling along the way, he was thrown with a dull thud onto the bluestone courtyard floor. Kneeling upon the smooth, icy ground, he cringed and lifted his head. Before him stood a youth of roughly fourteen or fifteen. Straight, long sword-like brows framed dark-gray eyes that stared directly down at him. The boy's face was handsome, with clean, defined contours, exuding overwhelming pressure. "Gr-Greetings, Great King!" Shamoli calculated silently in his heart. Nine times out of ten, this had to be Li Xuanxuan. Looking so young, he had most likely achieved Qi Refinement early on, which preserved his youthful appearance. Strictly speaking, the man was also his uncle-by-marriage, a relative of sorts. "You jest, Young Master." Li Yuanxiu let out a low chuckle, unable to keep the corners of his mouth from curling up. He had never expected a handle on Shanyue affairs to land right on their doorstep like this. Exultant, he wished he could burst into hearty laughter, but he forcefully suppressed the urge. Offering a polite word, he appraised the trembling Shanyue prince. "I am Li Yuanxiu, eldest son of the clan head's primary line, of the same generation as yourself." Only then did Shamoli realize that the youth before him was the heir to this Eastlander domain. He flashed a fawning smile and was just about to speak when someone rushed in through the doorway. His features bore some resemblance to Li Yuanxiu's, though his brows were shorter and his eyes narrower and longer, giving him the fierce air of a wolf or jackal. The youth cast a glance at Shamoli, frightening him into quickly lowering his head. "I heard my cousin had come to visit. Yuanjiao is truly delighted!" Shamoli was instantly overjoyed, convinced that this person would be his backing among the Eastlanders. He blurted out repeatedly: "So it is Brother Jiao! So it is Brother Jiao! I, too, have long admired you from afar, yet never imagined you would be such a hero!" Li Yuanjiao curled his lip and stepped beside Li Yuanxiu, glaring like a tiger at the men below. Several Shanyue followers knew he carried the bloodline of the Mulu clan and possessed a temperament that resonated so well with Shanyue ways, so they all gazed at him in admiration. "Hear tell something befell your father. Would the young master be willing to explain, that our doubts may be cleared?" Seated above with a teacup in hand, Li Yuanxiu asked in an unhurried tone. Below, Shamoli shivered and nodded frantically. "Yes, yes!" Shamoli hastened to explain everything that had happened before and after Mu Jiaoman's death. He talked for the span of an incense stick before the surrounding listeners finally understood, leaning together in hushed murmurs. Li Yuanxiu waved his hand, his expression shifting slightly. He had not anticipated Shamoli being this foolish, thinking to himself: *I deliberately gathered everyone here so he could state his case, yet this fool actually told the unvarnished truth without throwing any mud at his brother to give our Li family a pretext to intervene. What a waste of my good intentions...* Raising his head to look at the crowd of uncles and brothers gathered below, Li Yuanxiu said softly, "Allow me to speak with Shamoli in private. Elders, please take your leave first." Several clan elders frowned and seemed about to speak, but Li Yuanjiao gave a cold snort and stepped forward, staring them down like a predator. Left with no choice, they withdrew. With the backing clan elders gone, the crowd below receded like the tide, leaving behind only the clan soldiers filling the courtyard and the two brothers, Li Yuanxiu and Li Yuanjiao. Li Qiuyang stood beside Shamoli with cupped fists, on guard against any sudden violence. Li Yuanxiu hurried down and took Shamoli by the hand with an appearance of warm affection, saying with a bright smile: "Brother Shamoli, with the elders overseeing things earlier, it was inconvenient for me to speak freely. We are relatives by marriage—what need is there for such formal courtesy between us!" Shamoli was momentarily dumbfounded, never expecting Li Yuanxiu to be so approachable. As he stammered, unsure of what to say, Li Yuanxiu continued: "That Young Master Qimu took advantage of the late king's grievous injuries to commit regicide and usurp the throne, going against the late king's will to slaughter the other young masters en masse. Such vile conduct is utterly inhuman! Since our Li family pledged to protect Eastern Shanyue, how could we sit idly by and watch? Please set your heart at ease, Young Master!" Hearing this, Shamoli was struck utterly blank, wondering if he had failed to make himself clear earlier. It was plainly their royal father who had passed the throne to Qimu and personally ordered the slaughter of his other sons. How had it turned into something completely different in Li Yuanxiu's mouth...? Staring at the smile on Li Yuanxiu's face, a flash of realization struck Shamoli's mind like lightning. A shuddering surge of ambition erupted within his heart. Shamoli, whose hopes for the throne had been dead and buried, suddenly began to tremble—both thrilled and terrified—as he cried out repeatedly: "Right! Exactly right! Young Master Qimu took advantage of the late king's grievous injuries to commit regicide and usurp the throne, going against the late king's will to slaughter the other young masters..." Having finally gotten through to this wooden head, Li Yuanxiu let out a sigh of relief and said smilingly: "Your father could be counted as Brother Jiao's uncle. Such an affront is an insult to our Li family as well. Rest down the mountain for now and take in the sights of the east—they are quite different from Shanyue. I shall go up the mountain to report to the elders and seek you out afterward." Visions raced through Shamoli's mind as his blood surged with heat. His head was filled with scenes of storming back to Shanyue and seizing the throne. He gave a dazed grunt, then snapped back to reality and exclaimed in agitation: "Your noble clan's immense grace and virtue are beyond Shamoli's power to repay! Shamoli is willing to be the Li family's vanguard, to guard the west for the Li family, and offer annual tribute..." Li Yuanxiu waved his hand, rendered speechless. Knowing that this fellow had no tact whatsoever, he thought to himself: *Guard the west and offer annual tribute? How is that any different from the way things are now? Shamoli cannot even speak to the point; he is utterly blind to the broader situation.* With a slight nod, Li Yuanxiu left the courtyard and headed up the mountain. In the courtyard, Li Yuanjiao and Shamoli were left staring blankly at each other. With Shamoli's thoughts still drifting in the clouds, Li Yuanjiao glanced at him, patted this distant relative on the shoulder, and whispered in his ear: "The beauties, songs, and dances of our Eastlanders are widely renowned. Cousin might as well go have a look." "Ah! Very well." Dazed and disoriented, Shamoli walked out of the courtyard. Li Yuanjiao cupped his hands toward Li Qiuyang and said in a low voice: "I must trouble Clan Uncle with the rest. Carefully select some singing and dancing girls. We must ensure Shamoli sires several children to remain in town for schooling. Only then will we truly hold Shanyue in our grasp." "I understand." Li Qiuyang nodded. Not in the slightest did he treat Li Yuanjiao lightly on account of his youth. Cupping his hands, he took his leave.