Chapter Seventy: The Pursuit

The three hefty men remained hidden in their covert spot, while Gu Qiulan and her companions strode straight toward Qian’an Relay Station.

Immediately, the station guards shouted, “Who goes there?”

At Gu Qiulan’s signal, someone in her group called out in the language of the Northern Court, “Impertinence! Can you not recognize an envoy of the Crown Prince?”

The northern wind howled, and silence fell around them. This was a gambit, betting on whether, as Wulihan had claimed, Qian’an Relay Station had already fallen under the Crown Prince’s control. On Great Zhou’s soil, to brandish the authority of the Northern Court—if nothing was amiss, these soldiers should soon reveal their arms.

“On the sovereign land of Great Zhou, how dare you foreigners act with such impudence!” bellowed the officer in charge. Instantly, dozens of men surged forward to block the entrance, while cold gleams flashed on the high platforms to either side—archers already had their bows drawn.

Gu Qiulan’s expression remained unchanged, but her hands slowly tightened, and the air around them seemed to grow heavy and still.

“Scoundrels!” the black-armored rider who had spoken roared in fury, as if oblivious to the tense atmosphere. He strode straight into the enemy ranks, seized one man, and threw him to the ground with force. “The prince’s envoy is here in person—are you all blind?” With that, he made a show of drawing his saber as if to cut down the man.

“Wait!” Two voices rang out at once.

Wulihan looked toward the newcomer—a native of Great Zhou, yet the word he’d spoken was in the Northern Court’s tongue, just like his own. This was the stationmaster of Qian’an, who had been silently observing from the sidelines, puzzled by the sudden arrival of the prince’s envoy. As soon as he saw the arrogance of the Northern Court party, he hurried out to smooth things over.

Cautious by nature, the stationmaster noted the composure of this group. Could they really be who they claimed?

“Forgive my ignorance; please pardon any offense, noble envoy.” It mattered not what their true identity was—let them inside first, then close the doors and trap the wolves. Casting a quick glance, he saw that aside from one, the rest looked to be locals of Great Zhou. Though he suspected the truth, he still asked, “May I know which among you is the envoy?”

Wulihan snorted, unmoving.

The stationmaster, vexed at the sight of the warriors surrounding him, bent low and hurried forward. “Please, envoy, do not be angry.”

Wulihan continued his display of arrogance, saying nothing.

“Forgive my boldness, but I have received no official notice of an envoy’s arrival. Has the Crown Prince given you a token of authority?” the stationmaster inquired.

With an impatient wave, Wulihan signaled, and someone at his side produced a waist plaque engraved with the Hehe Tribe’s insignia. “See it clearly!”

The stationmaster craned his neck, daring not miss a single detail of the design—astonishingly, it was genuine!

“Hmph!” Wulihan’s face darkened further.

The stationmaster dared not linger and quickly said, “It is bitterly cold—please, come inside and warm yourselves.”

A black-armored rider barked, “No need! The envoy is pressed for time and has no leisure for idle chat. Listen well—bring out the man surnamed Yan and hand him over to the envoy!”

General Yan Boqing of Yanzhou?

The stationmaster’s suspicion deepened, though his face remained respectful. “Even as the Crown Prince’s envoy, unless His Highness is present himself, I fear…”

“Enough of your dithering! Are you deaf to the envoy’s orders? Do you value your life or not?” With that, the rider seized the stationmaster by the collar.

Gu Qiulan watched the black-armored rider’s impeccable performance with a touch of melancholy. What must her companions have endured during the days she was absent?

With profuse apologies, the stationmaster was finally released, retreating to catch his breath. As the standoff continued, a nondescript soldier hurried over and whispered a few words in his ear, causing the stationmaster’s expression to shift dramatically.

Trouble.

Though he remained cautious, Gu Qiulan could clearly sense a change in the stationmaster’s demeanor.

“If you so command, I dare not refuse. However, it will take some time to bring out Yan Boqing. I would not have the envoy wait idly—please, come inside, rest a moment, warm yourselves with a cup of tea. It is the least I can do as host. Were the Crown Prince to hear I neglected his envoy, he would surely be displeased.”

“No need!” Wulihan waved a hand. “Time is short—bring the man out at once!”

The stationmaster sneered inwardly. The body of the relay runner sent to find the man had already been discovered, and as stationmaster, he was well aware of the Northern Court’s royal intrigues. For the exalted Seventh Prince to dabble in such murky affairs! The envoy on the other side declared, “You have half an hour to produce the man!” and turned to leave.

The stationmaster would not miss this opportunity. If he could capture the Seventh Prince and deliver him to the Crown Prince, it would be a great merit! He shouted, “Why the hurry, Seventh Prince? Why leave so soon?”

As expected, the faces of those across from him changed dramatically. The prince’s bodyguards urged him to flee.

“A thousand taels of silver to whoever captures the Seventh Prince alive!”

With a single command, the place erupted in chaos.

“Run!”

No one knew who shouted it, but Wulihan and his companions turned and bolted, the relay station’s men in hot pursuit. Their horses were tethered not far away. Clad in heavy armor, Gu Qiulan and the others sprinted for all they were worth.

Wulihan’s foreign features and build made him stand out even more than a delicate maiden in the eyes of these soldiers—a thousand taels of silver was a fortune they could never hope to earn in three lifetimes!

The rest sought to shield Wulihan, while Gu Qiulan volunteered to bring up the rear. Without even looking, she flung several throwing darts backward—amid the dense crowd, each hit found its mark.

Wulihan ran, his face contorted with effort. In nearly twenty years of life, he had never endured such a harrowing chase. Er Pang, meanwhile, was still letting out excited shouts.

“Seize the Seventh Prince!”

“No arrows—take him alive!”

The leading soldiers leapt to grab Wulihan, but pain lanced through their ankles and they crashed down, blood pouring from knife wounds.

“Mount up!” Gu Qiulan barked.

The black-armored riders clustered around Wulihan. He glanced back to see that the little “handmaid” was not with them. “Hey, come on!”

Gu Qiulan now held two gleaming curved blades, a chilling smile on her lips. She stood with her back to them, her tone light: “Go!”

Hot blood splattered onto the snow, vivid as a crimson blossom—a soldier fell.

Her grandfather, the man who had taught her as a god of war, had been imprisoned by these contemptible means!

She had held back long enough.

The tiger descends the mountain, and all beasts must bow!

“Let’s go!” The black-armored riders knew well Gu Qiulan’s fearsome reputation—she was a veritable meat grinder on the battlefield.

With Gu Qiulan holding the rear, the pursuit from Qian’an Relay Station faltered. Seeing the Seventh Prince’s party of barely a dozen men on the verge of escape, the stationmaster ordered more men to give chase.

A circle had cleared around Gu Qiulan. Blood seeped from the trampled snow. With a sudden movement, those nearby gasped—only to realize it was a feint.

She laughed aloud, swinging her arm—those around her recoiled, only for it to be another feint.

Then a horse neighed in the distance—Gu Qiulan’s ears pricked up. Her mount had arrived.

With a flurry of hidden weapons and feints, she carved out a bloody path. The enemy archers had already fallen; Gu Qiulan never let herself within their range. She vaulted onto her horse—the objective of delaying pursuit achieved, there was no need to risk her life further.

While Gu Qiulan and Wulihan led the pursuers on a wild chase, the stout man and two other black-armored riders had already slipped into Qian’an Relay Station. After a few quick maneuvers, they found their target.

With exchanged hand signals, they kicked open a door. A hand shot out from within, grabbing one rider by the throat with such force that his face turned nearly blue.

“Hm?” The grip loosened. “It’s you youngsters!”

“General!” the stout man half-knelt, saluting. “Forgive us for arriving late!”

“Don’t stand there gaping—run!” The old general, still brimming with energy, strode out. Was this vigorous elder truly a prisoner?

“My, my, nothing like the outside air. Look at this sky—so clear,” he said.

General Yan’s hair and beard were white, but he was full of vigor. From that lightning-quick throat grab, it was clear—this kindly-looking old man was deadly swift and ruthless. The stout man cast a sympathetic glance at his comrade; that one wouldn’t be speaking for days.

Without wasting a word, the stout man reported the situation. General Yan immediately ordered, “Fire the signal arrows—regroup!”

Author’s note: [There’s one more update—check back after 10 p.m.]

Thanks: Zhao Xiyue has thrown a landmine.