THE CROWD STOOD frozen. Everyone, Apa Khagan included, stared blankly as Feng Xiao wiped the blood from his blade onto Fo'er's clothes, before slowly sheathing it at his waist and walking toward the second prince.
"Stay back! I'm warning you—another step and you're dead! Guards! Help me!" Ade shouted incoherently, uncaring of whether Feng Xiao understood.
Step by step, Feng Xiao stalked closer. Terror overcame the second prince; he threw away all other considerations and half-stumbled, half-crawled behind Apa Khagan, staring at Feng Xiao in alarm. Göktürk guards stepped forward with sabers in hand, warning Feng Xiao to stay back. He obediently stopped and raised a hand, uncurling his fingers to reveal a single grape.
"I only wanted to return this grape to you," Feng Xiao said innocently. "But if you don't want it, I'll deal with it as I please."
He pinched the grape between thumb and index finger, crushing it to a pulp. It fell to the ground, and the wind carried the refuse away.
The second prince trembled violently behind his father.
Apa Khagan rose to his feet, his face solemn. He brushed aside the hand the Kuchean beauty had placed on his lap, left the table spread with fine wine and delicacies, and approached Feng Xiao.
Ade, behind him, was left exposed. His eyes darted left and right in panic before colliding with the first prince's. Prince Yixun was unusually calm. Compared to the second prince's fidgeting, he seemed to have a steady aura of leadership. Ade realized his mistake and gritted his teeth in silence. He slunk back to his seat and sat as if nothing had happened.
The assembly watched as Apa Khagan approached Feng Xiao—but the scene they'd expected, the blame and interrogation, didn't occur. A smile spread across Apa Khagan's face. "I never thought I'd witness such a magnificent battle today," he told Feng Xiao. "In the words of we Göktürks, you are a warrior blessed by the Wolf God, worthy of respect!"
Cui Buqu stepped forward and whispered a translation to Feng Xiao in Chinese.
Apa Khagan's smile was warm, even solicitous—a complete about-face from his previous aloof demeanor. Fo'er had been stronger than anyone in the khagan's court, and thus Apa Khagan had treated him with great respect. Not only did Fo'er enjoy the backing of the powerful Eastern Khaganate, he was the Khaganate's preeminent martial artist—the Göktürks admired might and bowed to the strong.
But now Feng Xiao had slain Fo'er. There was no question of who was stronger. Any of the Göktürks could reach this simple conclusion, let alone Apa Khagan. His complete transformation wasn't surprising. Nor did the khatun, the first prince, or the other Göktürk officials see anything amiss. After all, if Feng Xiao could fell Fo'er easily, who could stop him if he wished to kill everyone present? Perhaps some worried Ishbara would retaliate, but for Apa Khagan, a good relationship with the Sui envoys was more pressing.
He had to pick a side, and now it seemed there was no more need to agonize.
Feng Xiao's smile was so radiant everyone was dazzled at the sight of it. "Thank you kindly for your praise, Khagan. However, this man was the foremost Göktürk martial artist, as well as a trusted subordinate of Ishbara Khagan. Are you not worried Ishbara will be furious and lead his troops in annexing your lands?"
Apa Khagan tore his eyes away from Fo'er's corpse and gazed at the smiling Feng Xiao. A chill raced up his spine, and he drew his cloak tighter around him. "It was my honor to witness a battle between masters. Swords and blades have no allegiance," he said with a wry twist of his mouth. "Ishbara Khagan will surely understand."
With that he waved a hand, calling for the bodies of Fo'er and his deputy to be removed. Two Göktürk attendants hurried forward to drag off the corpses. The Göktürks placed no value on returning the dead to their homeland; Ishbara Khagan wouldn't be interested in collecting the bodies. Even the number one Göktürk expert received such treatment in death. It was a miserable sight.
Cui Buqu and Feng Xiao, however, felt no sorrow. To be soft on an enemy was to be harsh on oneself.
Apa Khagan returned to his seat to resume the conference as if two men hadn't just died in front of him. The other envoys were only too happy to play along—they called out praise for Feng Xiao's excellent martial arts, naming him peerless and unparalleled, compliments pouring from their mouths as if they were terrified to stop.
The martial contests weren't over, but no one was foolish enough to challenge Feng Xiao again. Apa Khagan allowed Feng Xiao to rest and urged two Göktürks to enter a wrestling match on the field, much to the appreciation of the crowd.
Yixun made his way over to personally offer a toast. Apa Khagan smiled and watched without intervening, waving away the Kuchean beauty and summoning Jinlian to his side. Khagan and khatun spoke in low voices as he listened attentively to her account of the hardships she'd suffered on her journey to the Central Plains.
When the second prince timidly tugged at his father's sleeve, the khagan's face turned stormy. He turned to scold him, and the prince quickly retreated, looking wretched. It seemed he, too, faced a reckoning.
In a single moment, everything had changed.
Those who'd supported the Eastern Khaganate or been fearful of offending Fo'er now all stood to offer toasts to the Sui envoys. The ones who spoke some Chinese dropped a few witticisms, while those who didn't flocked over to flatter Cui Buqu in Turkic.
They had no notion of Feng Xiao's repute in the Central Plains; in fact, they'd never heard of him before today. But Fo'er was famous in the Western Regions; everyone knew his name. Personally witnessing the death of such a figure was a brutal shock. It was not only the people of the Central Plains who knew how to read the skies. It was human nature to seek benefit and minimize loss. The Sui dynasty loomed large over the land, and now Feng Xiao had killed Fo'er. The crowd removed the final feather, and the balance in their hearts tipped straight away. The once-swaying scale stabilized, and they came to their decision.
Apa Khagan had spoken just a few words, but everyone had seen him reprimand the second prince. He was sure to seek out Cui Buqu's party by tonight at latest. Although an alliance wasn't yet set in stone, it was increasingly likely. Cui Buqu finally breathed a sigh of relief.
"I've made great contributions this time, Daoist Master Cui. Don't you have anything to say?" asked Feng Xiao, the picture of composure at his side.
"Hm?" Cui Buqu looked at him, bewildered. "Do we not work for the glory of the court, and to relieve the emperor's mind of worries?"
Cui Buqu had already sent Qiao Xian back to her yurt to treat her injuries, or she'd certainly have been sneering at Feng Xiao by now.
"Ha, don't try that with me." The corners of Feng Xiao's mouth twitched. He recalled his first meeting with this man at Zixia Temple, his face devoid of emotion amid the curling incense smoke. Those worshippers had never imagined their Daoist Master Cui, so kind and gentle, so detached from secular affairs, was in fact a shameless ingrate with skin thicker than the Great Wall.
"I had to seal my meridians to kill Fo'er just now. My qi and blood are suffering backflow, and my true qi is circulating in reverse. I've exacerbated my injuries and extended my recovery to half a month. What complications I may suffer in the future are unknown—I've never used this method before." Feng Xiao didn't shout; he whispered rapidly into Cui Buqu's ear: "Without me here, even your silver tongue couldn't have softened up these barbarians, could it?"
There was the thinnest sliver of distance between them. Feng Xiao's breath fanned Cui Buqu's ear as he spoke, yet Cui Buqu remained as immobile as a mountain, as if to say, Complain all you like; even the sky crashing down wouldn't move me. Feng Xiao's gaze caught on that ear.
It was very fair.
It looked soft, too. I wonder how pinching it would feel?
He found his hands were faster than his brain: the instant he thought it, his fingertips were already squeezing Cui Buqu's earlobe.
Cui Buqu started. He's never expected Feng Xiao would do such a thing, and instinctively moved to shake him off. But Feng Xiao seemed to anticipate this too; his hand landed on Cui Buqu's back, preventing him from pulling away.
"Let go!" Cui Buqu's voice was icy enough to summon a hailstorm.
After rubbing his earlobe twice, Feng Xiao found it was as soft as he'd imagined. It was rather like an osmanthus cake, just without any osmanthus scent—though perhaps the smell of medicine from Cui Buqu's body could be considered a fragrance of its own. Satisfied, he released him.
Cui Buqu leveled him with a baffled look. "Has it been too long since Deputy Chief Feng enjoyed the company of a beautiful woman?" he asked coldly. "Allow me to inquire with the khagan. I trust the beauties of Suyab would be overjoyed to spend a night with you if that's what you want."
"I want to eat osmanthus cakes," replied Feng Xiao nonsensically.
Cui Buqu was beginning to suspect Fo'er had beaten Feng Xiao stupid. "Are you all right?"
Feng Xiao smiled in silence.
These two were members of the same party; if they acted more familiar than normal, no one thought much of it. But the first prince, who had made his way over hoping to befriend them and offer another toast, had a very different impression of this scene.
He sighed. "I envy you both, truly. You're in a foreign land, so you can do as you please!"
Recalling the nonsense he'd fed this prince yesterday, Cui Buqu laughed dryly and said no more.
Yet Feng Xiao seemed to have found Cui Buqu's weakness. If he let the opportunity slip, when would such a chance come again? He smoothly moved to pinch Cui Buqu's ear a second time. His fingers were incredibly quick; before Cui Buqu could react, Feng Xiao had already let go. He smiled at the first prince. "We appreciate your understanding."
The first prince gave him a knowing look. "I do understand, I really do!"
What do you think you understand? thought Cui Buqu, watching him walk off.
He jabbed an elbow into Feng Xiao's gut and felt him inhale sharply, then stood, thinking to stop the first prince but with no idea what to say.
Feng Xiao chuckled. "You dug this hole yourself, you know. Even if you cry, you have to jump into it."
***
Jinlian's standing had changed again.
Most obviously, Apa Khagan's attitude toward her was warm, just as it had been before her long journey—as if nothing had intervened. The Kuchean beauty was no more than a lovely trinket, and the only woman fit to stand beside the khagan was her once more.
The change had occurred the moment Feng Xiao killed Fo'er; Jinlian had no illusion about this. She didn't burn her bridges by ignoring Cui Buqu and his group. After speaking to Apa Khagan, she eagerly ran back to Cui Buqu's yurt and shared the news: after tonight's banquet, Apa Khagan would summon him to discuss an alliance with Sui.
"We killed Fo'er. Isn't he worried at all that Ishbara will respond?" Cui Buqu asked. On the other side of the yurt, Feng Xiao and Qiao Xian's eyes were closed in repose, undisturbed by their conversation.
Jinlian shook her head. "He must think he needn't fear Ishbara with the Sui dynasty's power behind him, no?"
Cui Buqu's expression turned pensive.
"Is something still bothering you?" Jinlian asked curiously. "Better to ally with the Sui dynasty than kneel to Ishbara. The Eastern Khaganate has the greater appetite; a wise man knows how to choose. Now that you've made the decision a simple one, he should no longer hesitate."
What she said made sense. Cui Buqu didn't refute her or say what had bothered him. Yet it was precisely this inability to put his concerns into words that made him all the more uneasy.
***
Night descended, and a banquet even grander than the previous night's was in full swing within the royal yurt.
Last night, the khagan had been entangled with a beautiful woman in his yurt and failed to attend—but tonight was different. When the khagan appeared, it was in lavish dress, with both khatuns and the first prince as well as a retinue of Göktürk officials and aristocrats. The air buzzed with pomp and excitement.
Only the second prince had yet to arrive.
But this wasn't strange either. He had tried every possible means of dragging Cui Buqu down, only for all to backfire. Prince Ade was a proud man; he was sure to be deeply unhappy, and it would surprise no one if he was late or absent entirely. Still, Apa Khagan was displeased and sent an attendant to urge the second prince along.
After three rounds of toasts, the guests were quite drunk. Wine lubricated thoughts and tongues, and the atmosphere grew increasingly casual. Feng Xiao was injured, so he had abstained, instead drinking a local refreshment made from crushed fruit, with a sour flavor that complemented the roasted lamb.
The banquet guests came over to toast them in turns; even Apa Khagan personally walked over with a cup of wine. It was difficult to refuse such boundless hospitality—though he was drinking a fruit cordial and not wine, Feng Xiao still had a bit too much and began to feel uncomfortable. He excused himself with a word to Cui Buqu, then stepped out to walk back to their yurt for a rest.
The breeze outside was cool and gentle. Warm firelight glowed in the distance, but around him all was black. A hand, smooth and tender, emerged from the darkness and soundlessly brushed his waist.