Chapter 65: Our Enterprise Is Grand
“There’s an intruder in the night.”
Everyone was roused immediately.
They all gathered in the backyard, their gazes fixed on Yang Xuan.
Who would take command?
A lord, in many cases, serves as nothing more than a spiritual symbol—a figurehead for all to rally behind. As for the practicalities, civil matters are handled by scholars, martial affairs by generals.
Let the lord squat and watch the play; at most, bring along a few beauties.
Such is the principle of specialization.
Cao Ying was quite good.
To the old rogue’s eyes, Cao Ying, as the strategist, was still a bit green and lacking in confidence. But as he weathered more storms, Cao Ying gradually found his footing and grew in self-assurance.
In the poisoned ramen incident in Yuanzhou, Scholar Cao’s performance had been flawless.
Cao Ying cleared his throat.
“The left side.”
It was Yang Xuan who spoke.
He pointed left, “Jia Ren, crouch by the wall.”
Ugh!
Jia Ren dared not refuse and crept forward quietly.
Yang Xuan continued, “Old Cao, stand by to pick off stragglers.”
Shouldn’t I be the main general? Cao Ying: “…”
“Second Brother, with me.”
Wang the Second nodded, gazing up at the night sky, thinking the world outside was full of meat.
Delicious!
Yi-niang asked, “And what about me?”
“Yi-niang, you’re with me.”
No one could see through Yang Xuan’s arrangements—they gave away nothing.
The old rogue crouched at the wall, worried the enemy might sneak in from the right.
Cao Ying gripped his saber in reverse, a belly full of grievances.
At such moments, the lord need not wrest command from his subordinates!
Yang Xuan held his bow and arrow.
He lowered his head, as though listening for something.
The atmosphere grew ever more uncanny.
Even Chen Qu’s dog, recently in heat and restless, fell silent.
The old rogue looked up at the sky, then back at Yang Xuan.
Cao Ying was at his side, also watching Yang Xuan.
Yi-niang was about to whisper something.
Yang Xuan suddenly looked up.
No one saw how he moved, but his longbow was already raised.
He let the arrow fly without hesitation.
Whoosh!
A black figure had just leapt atop the wall when the arrow was upon him.
He intended to leap down, and as the arrow came, instinct drove him to slash at it midair while continuing his descent.
But his leap turned into a fall.
Still a chance for a kill? The old rogue at the base of the wall struck out on reflex.
Clang!
The arrow was deflected, but the black figure was still felled by the old rogue’s blade.
“Aaah!”
A scream tore through the night.
A second shadow rushed up almost at the sound.
Somehow, Yang Xuan was already gripping another arrow.
He loosed it.
The arrow flashed like lightning.
The old rogue was stunned.
How did the young master know the enemy would come from here?
His first successful ambush gave him the confidence to dash to the foot of the wall in the direction of Yang Xuan’s arrow.
Clang!
The arrow was batted away.
The shadow swooped down.
The old rogue made a surprise attack with his blade.
The shadow was prepared, sneered, and turned to parry.
Then, a sinister blade stabbed from the side.
“Argh!”
The shadow swore he’d never seen such a trap.
An arrow from the front when he least expected it; as he confidently parried, a blade struck from behind.
Fine, so be it.
But he hadn’t expected another blade from the side.
How many could emerge unscathed?
The sound of clothes cutting through the air—a shadow vaulted over the wall.
An arrow flew at him; the shadow flicked it away with a finger and slashed behind with his saber.
Clang!
The arrow vanished into the night.
The blade behind was parried.
This one was a master!
“Second Brother!”
“Time for meat.” Wang the Second lunged with excitement.
The shadow swung his sword, sending Cao Ying’s sneak attack flying, then threw a cold punch.
Wang the Second, delighted, met him fist to fist without hesitation.
Bang!
Wang the Second flipped backwards.
But the shadow was sent flying toward the wall.
At last, it was her turn! Yi-niang drew her flexible sword and pursued the shadow closely.
On any other day, such a threat would be ended with a single slash.
But tonight, Wang the Second’s inner energy was still rampaging through his body. He managed to swing his blade, but the flexible sword twisted like a venomous snake, suddenly changing direction.
A gash appeared on the shadow’s face.
He sucked in a breath, forcibly suppressing his inner energy.
A blade from behind.
A blade from the side.
A sword from the front.
The shadow spun in place.
Clang, clang, clang!
Every attack was repelled.
Who else?
He felt the night grow dim, looked up—
Wang the Second descended headfirst, fist aimed at his skull.
Fear struck the shadow’s heart. He resolved to risk one last blow and then escape, wounded.
He summoned his inner energy and punched with all his might.
Bow drawn, arrow nocked—at that moment, Yang Xuan’s eyes saw only the shadow.
The arrow sliced through the night sky.
Bang!
The shadow and Wang the Second exchanged punches as the arrow silently pierced the shadow’s chest.
He collapsed, an arrow in his chest, blood gushing from his mouth.
A wretched death!
Wang the Second landed, turned to Yang Xuan. “Meat for supper.”
“Eating meat at night? You won’t digest it,” Yang Xuan retorted.
But Yi-niang smiled, “I’ll go prepare some food and wine.”
Knock, knock, knock!
Someone rapped at the door.
The city guards had arrived, alerted by the commotion.
Cao Ying cleared his throat and tousled his hair.
He opened the door. Outside, a guard asked, “We heard sounds of fighting and screams…”
The corpse collectors had come. Cao Ying stepped aside, “Some thieves broke into our house just now.”
Several guards, weapons in hand, entered.
Three corpses stood as mute testimony.
Later, a pot of mutton stew was set on the fire.
They ate, then went to bed.
No one spoke.
Lying in bed, Cao Ying felt hot and restless.
He tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
He got up, donned his robe, and walked outside.
“The moonlight… how beautiful.”
He sighed.
“The moon’s hidden behind clouds,” the old rogue replied, squatting by the wall, looking up, too.
Neither asked what the other was doing awake—they just gazed at the sky.
“The young master’s archery is deadly,” the old rogue muttered, scratching his head. “Sharp as a blade.”
“Indeed!” Cao Ying said. “Tonight, the young master commanded with perfect composure. Even if I’d been in charge, I couldn’t have done better.”
“Your shameless praise makes me sick,” the old rogue retched. “If it had been you tonight, except for Wang the Second, everyone would’ve been wounded. At best, you’d have killed two.”
Cao Ying changed the subject. “What do you want?”
“A post, and glory for my ancestors,” the old rogue’s eyes shone in the darkness. “The young master gives me hope.”
“Are you afraid of work that risks your head?” Cao Ying asked, hands behind his back.
“Afraid?” The old rogue laughed. “Afraid of nothing! I’ve prowled the underworld for years. Those famous nobles, fierce generals, and beauties—in the end, they all lie in coffins the same: a pile of stinking bones. So I realized: how one lives, in glory or poverty, is one thing. Dead, all are equal. No matter how fine your coffin, it’s all the same.”
“Don’t you fear retribution?” Cao Ying thought grave-robbing was truly a sinister trade.
“That’s why I have no wife or children.” The old rogue’s eyes dulled.
“You should have changed trades,” Cao Ying sighed.
“My ancestors left this business; to abandon it would be unfilial.” The old rogue replied.
Damn!
Cao Ying’s eyelids twitched.
“Work hard. But I’ll tell you one thing,” Cao Ying said. “Do you know who those men tonight were?”
The old rogue shook his head. “I’m just a grave-robber. I don’t care.”
“From now on, you’re on the same boat as us.”
Cao Ying turned to leave.
“Why?” The old rogue sensed trouble.
Cao Ying stretched and yawned. “The Chunyu clan holds grudges. Even if you defect to the Yangs or someone else, you won’t escape death.”
The old rogue sat through the night.
At dawn, he hurried out.
Among the city’s ruffians, news traveled fastest.
For a little coin, the old rogue found what he needed.
“They say Chunyu Shan is a gentleman, but everyone knows the Chunyu clan is the most ruthless. Offend anyone but them. Even if you join them, you’ll still have to settle up in the end. That one… is merciless!”
The old rogue wandered off and soon ran into Yang Xuan, Han Ying, and the others.
“Lost in thought?” Cao Ying asked with a smile.
The old rogue approached, forcing a smile. “What’s the young master planning?”
A clever man!
Cao Ying replied, “You know—the Emperor is allied with the Four Great Families. The Left Chancellor has joined with the Wang clan and the Imperial Academy. Dark currents are swirling in Chang’an.”
“What’s that got to do with us?”
“The young master is a student at the Imperial Academy and on good terms with the Wangs. By the way, both the Empress Yang and Crown Princess Chunyu are daughters of the Four Great Families. Their rival is the Noble Consort.”
The old rogue shivered. “The young master once saved the Noble Consort.”
“Indeed!” Cao Ying grinned slyly. “If we lose, we’ll not even have a burial place.”
The pact was sealed.
Han Ying bowed. “Greetings, young master.”
To Yang Xuan, this woman was a madwoman—willing to wager everything just to prove herself.
“If I can’t help you hold your head high, will you regret it?” he asked.
Han Ying shook her head. “I will not regret what’s already decided.”
“You’re not even as bold as a woman,” Cao Ying teased the old rogue.
“But our enemies are the Five Great Clans! Not to mention the Emperor—hell, he could crush us with a slap,” the old rogue despaired.
“Our cause is grand.” Cao Ying smiled faintly. “Perhaps we’ll turn defeat into victory?”
“Find a large mansion near Vermilion Bird Avenue,” Yang Xuan told Han Ying. “Don’t worry about the cost. Spend everything. We’ll build a brand new Yuanzhou Ramen.”
“How big?” Han Ying asked.
“The largest in Chang’an.”
“There’s not enough money.”
“I’ll find a way.”
Han Ying bowed, “I await your orders, young master.”
She left with Wang Shun.
They had barely reached the county office when a messenger arrived.
“Assistant Yang, the Princess of Nanyang wishes to go out.”
Yang Xuan rose. “Old Zhao, gather the men. Come with me.”
Inside the Southern Zhou courier station.
Zhang Jing strode into the backyard, her long legs carrying her swiftly. She saw Princess Nian Ziyue sitting in the pavilion, chin in hands, lost in thought, and felt a pang of sympathy.
“Your Highness.”
Long lashes fluttered; the light returned to those bright eyes.
“Has Assistant Yang still not arrived?”
“He should be here soon.”
Nian Ziyue sighed, “But having someone trail me is uncomfortable. Zhang Jing, is there a way to make Assistant Yang turn a blind eye?”
Zhang Jing shook her head. “He’s arrogant—unlikely.”
Nian Ziyue frowned. “Just an assistant, and he’s arrogant?”
“I’ve looked into him. He’s from the countryside and, by chance, saved the Noble Consort. That’s why he’s risen so quickly,” Zhang Jing replied, her tone tinged with disdain.
Nian Ziyue, likewise, looked down on such upstarts. “Then he must be greedy for wealth. I have an idea!”
“What is it?” Zhang Jing asked curiously.
Nian Ziyue raised her brow. “Have you forgotten my nickname at court?”
“Unbeatable Pitcher!”
Nian Ziyue clapped her hands. “For freedom, I’ll try my hand. Invite him to play pitch-pot. When he loses face and owes me a large sum, he won’t dare restrain me. Isn’t this a good plan?”
So, when Yang Xuan arrived at the courier station, he saw the Princess of Nanyang, her veil drawn.
“The Princess is bored and wishes to play pitch-pot. Assistant Yang, do you play?”
“I do!” He had practiced it daily as a boy, training in archery and familiarizing himself with the feel and arc of arrows—Yang Lue had insisted on it.
Nian Ziyue glanced at Zhang Jing.
Zhang Jing asked, “It’s more fun with a wager. Do you dare, Assistant Yang?”
Yang Xuan looked up: “…”
The Vermilion Bird squawked, “Win their undergarments clean off!”