Li Yan soon reached the North Gate. Without pausing, he sped through the gate and left the city. As he walked, his mind raced with calculations: aside from the slight delay caused by his face-to-face encounter with Liu Chengyong at the back door of the munitions depot, everything else had taken only a short time. In fact, all the time since entering the camp had amounted to roughly half the duration of a stick of incense burning. At this moment, he was confident that neither Chen An nor Li Yin would suspect a thing—and Master Ji was still likely to be holed up in the Marshal's Mansion.
Lost in thought, Li Yan had already passed beyond the city gate. He glanced around and saw no sign of his two aides intercepting him. He knew if they had caught on, they would have positioned themselves at either the South or North Gate, thereby blocking all possible exits. Smiling, he exchanged a brief greeting with a guard before quickly moving on.
The city guard, meanwhile, was mildly surprised. Not only had this "Lord Li" left on foot—despite having ridden in on horseback not long ago—but his constant escorts were nowhere to be seen. Unwilling to press for answers, they simply greeted him and let him pass.
Once outside the city, after only half a li of travel, Li Yan abruptly veered off toward the western slopes of Da Qing Mountain. He knew better than to continue along the main road only to later change directions—the longer he stayed on the open route, the greater the chance of an unwanted encounter with the enemy. This, after all, was the last thing he needed right now.
Meanwhile, inside the Marshal's Mansion, Master Ji eyed Marshal Hong's furrowed brow with a mix of resignation and concern. Sipping his tea slowly, Master Ji noted that it was now nearly an hour past noon. In the fifteen minutes they had spent discussing military intelligence and mulling over countermeasures, both men were deep in thought. Finally, Master Ji murmured, "This is now our fourth contingency plan… sigh." Leaning back against his chair, he admitted that while these problems didn't drain one's spiritual energy, they nonetheless taxed the mind to the utmost.
After a moment, noticing that Marshal Hong was still lost in thought, Master Ji continued, "Marshal, this plan has already taken into account every possible eventuality suggested by the previous three schemes. As strategists say, nothing is foolproof in warfare—you must gauge the situation and then act accordingly."
Mid-sentence, however, Master Ji's expression suddenly shifted. He lifted his gaze toward the door. Although Marshal Hong had been listening intently, he suddenly fell silent when he saw Master Ji staring outside. There was no sound at first, yet in the midst of his confusion, Master Ji's ear caught faint footsteps from beyond the door. His face turned grave as he mused, "This fellow's inner power has advanced so remarkably, yet his complexion is even poorer than before. That shows the poison he's taken is extremely virulent. If something like this were to happen to me, I'd need to expend at least eighty or ninety percent of my internal energy just to keep it in check—leaving me with nothing more than a second-rate talent in the martial realm. And yet, after subduing the poison, this man still retains far more internal strength than I had in my prime. It's truly alarming."
Just then, a voice sounded from outside the main hall: "Marshal, the gold and silver collected from this month's taxes have been loaded onto carts and are waiting for your personal inspection before they are dispatched to the rear garrison camp."
Hearing this, Master Ji couldn't help but let a fleeting, wry smile cross his face. He knew all too well the Marshal's eccentricities—aside from his obsession with martial manuals from every sect, he was oddly fixated on trivial monetary matters. In these borderlands, despite years of relative peace and imperial edicts banning local migration (to inspire patriotic sentiment), everyday necessities were always in high demand. This, in turn, attracted countless merchants looking to strike it rich—thus, the local economy had grown surprisingly prosperous.
Marshal Hong, who since his arrival had seized control of both military and civil affairs alike, held the local tax revenues tightly. Aware that excessive measures would only spark public outcry, he allocated 40% to the local authorities and diverted the remaining 60% every month—converting it into gold and silver for direct military use, something he called the "military provisions." Because these funds were stationed on the frontier where the city's defenses stood, they made him nervous. If left in place for too long, their accumulated value would be enormous, and in the event of a breach, there'd be no time to extract them. So each month he made sure to transport them to the rear camp himself, inspecting them personally and sealing them with official stamps.
Master Ji, a cultivator who held worldly trappings in contempt, naturally scoffed at such practices. As Marshal Hong smiled broadly and said, "Master Strategist, your words are well-taken. What perfect strategy exists in life? I've pondered this myself, and I've decided to adopt your final plan. I will convene my subordinate officers and staff shortly."
Hearing this, Master Ji knew that Marshal Hong's focus had shifted away from the matter at hand. Rising and bowing respectfully, he announced, "Since it has been settled, I shall withdraw from further involvement. My health is declining these days—I must return to rest."
Marshal Hong, not hiding his concern, replied, "Very well, but do take care of yourself. If you need any medicinal herbs, just ask, and I'll send someone to fetch them. As for the poison affecting you, I wish I could help—but my martial prowess is too crude. Alas!"
Master Ji only smiled once more, bowed, and then left the main hall.
Watching his departing silhouette, Marshal Hong's expression sank further. After a brief pause, he turned his attention to the back of the hall and said, "Junior Brother, since the report is in, let's head to the rear and see about that kid." With that, he swiftly moved toward the main gate. Not long after, another figure emerged in hurried pursuit from behind the hall.
In a quiet room within the rear palace garden of the Marshal's Mansion, Marshal Hong greeted the newcomer, "Hmm, why have you come alone? What exactly is happening?" As soon as he entered, he closed the door behind him. The trailing figure did not follow, and outside, the garden was empty—as if everyone had vanished.
Inside the room, after a sweeping glance around, Marshal Hong's face grew as dark as if heavy water might well drip from it. There, standing alone with an anxious look, was Liu Chengyong. On seeing Marshal Hong, Liu Chengyong immediately knelt on one knee, bowed deeply with his head touching the floor, and said, "Marshal, I am at fault. I have failed to bring Li Yan here. Please, have mercy on me."
With his face cold and grim, Marshal Hong replied flatly, "Speak." After a half-cup of tea, he carefully reread a two-page letter while eyeing the small porcelain bottle on the table. His expression oscillated uncertainly before finally tucking the letter into his own bosom.
"Does this mean that Li Yan's martial skill still surpasses yours?" he inquired.
"Indeed," Liu Chengyong replied hesitantly, "I can vouch for it—his qi is impressively concentrated. Moreover, if he were to miss a single strike, it would surely draw unwanted attention. I still cannot fathom how someone can refine his inner power to such an extent in mere months. What kind of martial technique is this?"
Marshal Hong rested his chin in thought, clearly incredulous. If the man before him weren't a loyal follower of over a decade, he might have struck him down with a single blow for all the nonsense. Yet he knew deep down that Liu Chengyong was not lying. "Then you may go back for now," he said in measured tones.
Relieved, Liu Chengyong exhaled and quickly excused himself, hurrying out with sweat already soaking his back. "So Li Yan really wasn't lying," he muttered to himself. "After the Marshal read the letter, his anger simply dissipated—I wish I knew what he said exactly."
Marshal Hong then pulled the letter out once again and called, "Junior Brother, come take a look." Almost silently, a figure drifted in from outside. When the figure finally stood still, it was revealed to be a burly man—massive in build, yet moving with surprising grace that created a disconcerting contrast.
The burly man took the letter and studied it intently. After several readings of one sheet, he hissed, "Brother, this kid has indeed provided his own cultivation method."
"Indeed," replied Marshal Hong, "this is the first level of the 'Mu Yin Gong' method of cultivation. Junior Brother, can you determine whether this 'Mu Yin Gong' technique is genuine?"
The burly man picked up the sheet again and scrutinized it further. "I examined it closely myself, and some of these methods are entirely unheard of. With my current knowledge, I cannot immediately judge if they are authentic."
"But this kid has only handed over the first level; he insists that once we assist him in completing the remaining tasks, he will reveal the rest. Hmm—I, too, cannot fully verify its authenticity right now. Perhaps we should test this technique?" the burly man suggested, his eyes alight with anticipation.
Marshal Hong paused, resting his chin thoughtfully. "Junior Brother, I have considered that as well—but internal cultivation is not something whose merits can be judged by a single trial."
After a brief silence, Marshal Hong added, "However, we could try it out; perhaps by experiencing his technique firsthand we might gain some insight. Of course, the kid is also using the later revisions of the method to coerce our help." His eyes flashed with a fierce intensity as he spoke.
The burly man leaned forward, "Brother, I'll try this method. If it proves genuine, that will count as having helped him—and then later we can finish him off. He's just a rustic upstart, daring to act so boldly. Hmph."
Marshal Hong nodded and said, "Very well. Junior Brother, let's head to the secret chamber. I'll provide you with protection while you test it." He reached over, grabbed the small porcelain bottle from the table, tucked it into his own bosom, and turned to leave. As they went, he murmured, "But I must admit—the kid is talented; he managed to conceal this item on Master Ji without detection. I almost feel reluctant to kill him. Still, he is exceptionally cunning; if he continues to treat us this way, and if we make even a slight misstep, we might end up ensnared by his scheme."
At that very moment, Chen An and Li Yin were as frantic as ants on a hot pan—they bolted out of the camp without delay. They had already been in discussion with their old comrades for nearly two hours, and Li Yan had yet to appear. Their anxiety grew, and they repeatedly scanned the direction of the central military encampment, exchanging apprehensive glances. Before long, the two stood up together, excused themselves from the others, and huddled aside to confer in hushed tones.
Swallowing their trepidation, they set off briskly toward the central command tent—even though they had no official orders to infiltrate this restricted zone (an act that might well cost them dearly). While still some distance away, a patrolling soldier spotted them and barked for them to produce their passage permits. Being seasoned veterans, the two managed to explain that they urgently needed to see Master Ji, and eventually a nearby soldier—recognizing them as members of the military strategist's household—reported their situation to the higher-ups. Not long after, a guard returned with a harsh admonition: "Are you two mocking me? When has Master Ji even been in the camp today? Hurry up and leave!"
Immediately, the two felt the gravity of their mistake. They quickly muttered apologies and dashed for the camp exit. Their frantic, almost demonic figures in flight left the patrolling soldiers whispering in astonishment, "It must really be urgent to find Master Ji."
Chen An and Li Yin knew that the camp only had one exit—whatever lay beyond the heavy munitions depot was not even a consideration, for that was a highly secure, off-limits area. Upon reaching the gate, they inquired again with the guard—and to their utter shock received this reply: "Lord Li left on his own more than two hours ago." They had no inkling that today the guards had been specifically ordered by Marshal Hong to wait for him, ready to intercept any inquiry.
Stunned, the two realized they had made a grave error. Master Ji had decreed that they were never to leave Li Yan's side under any circumstances. In their panic, they nearly came to blows with the gate guard, who coolly remarked, "Lord Li wishes to leave—do I have the authority to detain him? Do you expect me to defy orders?" Forced by circumstance, Chen An and Li Yin spurred their horses into action—one heading for the South Gate and the other for the North Gate—so they could verify through which exit Li Yan was actually leaving. Once confirmed, they could act accordingly.
Fifteen minutes later, they regrouped at their predetermined meeting point, exchanged their findings, and together rode swiftly toward the military strategist's mansion. The message received at the North Gate—that Li Yan had left alone two hours earlier—filled them with both anxiety and a strange hope.
Before long, the two arrived at the strategist's mansion. They dismounted and raced into the valley, drawing curious stares from the onlookers outside. In their haste, they forgot that no one was allowed to enter the valley without orders. Once inside, they bolted straight for Li Yan's room. Yet when they entered, the room lay empty—though it was clear that someone was present.
Soaked to the bone, the two hurriedly left the room and scanned the small valley. It was not very large; one could see it all at a glance. At that moment, aside from the swaying wildflowers and the gentle trickle of spring water down the rocky slopes, only the soft whispering of the breeze could be detected. They began to search meticulously, hoping that Li Yan might be either meditating in the pool or lounging amidst the blooms—even if he were hidden away in a latrine, that would be preferable. Just then, a voice sounded from behind them:
"Why is it only the two of you here—where is Li Yan?"