A graceful figure, under cover of darkness, crept to the ruins of a broken temple in a deserted village completely abandoned due to warfare. After exchanging night bird calls as signals with guards hidden in the shadows, she entered.
The ruined temple had no lights and was pitch black, with only a beam of moonlight filtering through a collapsed well-sized opening in the roof. By the light scattered from this moonbeam, one could dimly make out a person sitting in the corner on the ground.
“Elder Brother, I met with him. He wouldn’t even look at the letter. He said barbarians and Han cannot coexist, and refused.”
Murong Zhe walked up to that person and quietly recounted the entire encounter, omitting the part where she had disguised herself as his wife and nearly been harmed by him.
The person in the corner seemed unsurprised by this result. After a moment of silence, he said indifferently: “I expected as much. He could never agree.”
“Elder Brother, Uncle he… does he truly wish to divide territories with Li Mu in the future?”
Murong Zhe hesitated before asking.
The man gave a low snort: “What else? Do you think much of his former ambition remains? Having fled back to Dragon City, taken Xiao Pass, and restored Great Yan, he’s long been satisfied. Guarding those few border cities, playing at being Emperor of Great Yan—if not for pressure from the clan, he’d probably have no interest in even Luoyang.”
Murong Zhe bit her lip: “Elder Brother, you must be careful not to arouse Uncle’s suspicions. Someone has already been sowing discord with Uncle, urging him to be wary of you. If…”
She didn’t continue, worry showing in her eyes.
Since the Murong clan rose from Dragon City, their ancestors through the generations could be said to have produced capable people in abundance, with no shortage of heroes. But most had died unnatural deaths, with few dying peacefully of old age.
Not to mention distant examples—just among the uncles and brothers she had personally witnessed, only a few remained now.
Of those who had died, naturally some fell to enemies, but internal strife within their own walls—struggling over territory and power, with uncles and nephews, brothers, and even fathers and sons killing each other—was also common.
This seemed to have become a curse upon the Murong clan, inescapable generation after generation.
The man said nothing, slowly rising from the ground and walking into that patch of moonlight.
With a slender waist and temples like Pan An, his jade-like features carved to perfection, the moonlight revealed the face of a beautiful man—this was Murong Zhe’s elder brother, Murong Ti.
He raised his head, gazing through the hole in the roof tiles at the moon for a long while, then lowered his head and said: “Take people immediately and secretly go to the Southern Dynasty to handle something for me.”
He leaned close to Murong Zhe’s ear and whispered a few words.
Murong Zhe was shocked beyond measure and exclaimed: “Elder Brother, you truly have such a plan? How is it possible?”
Murong Ti’s expression remained calm: “Go and see. If there’s an opportunity and it succeeds, excellent. If not, there’s no loss. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t dare harbor such designs, but the Southern Dynasty is in chaos now, with Celestial Master rebellions everywhere. Gao Qiao must be overwhelmed. As long as there’s chaos, anything is possible. As for Xu Mi, though my people have left, I previously planted informants. According to my intelligence, he’s very likely to also take advantage of the situation to rebel. If this news proves true, it would be adding fuel to the fire, making your task even more convenient.”
Murong Zhe’s initially furrowed brow gradually smoothed. After thinking it over, she smiled.
“Elder Brother is right—muddy waters are good for fishing. Since Elder Brother has given orders, I’ll go and see. Let’s hope Xu Mi doesn’t waste this excellent situation. The more muddied the waters, the better my chances. I’ll prepare and depart as soon as possible. Elder Brother, await my news.”
Murong Zhe’s figure once again disappeared into the night.
Murong Ti stood like a clay or wooden sculpture under that patch of moonlight filtering through the roof hole for a long time. Slowly he raised one of his arms before his face, staring at his open palm, then clenched his fist.
Countless times now, no matter how unwillingly he exerted force, since that day, though the injury to this arm had healed, it remained weak and powerless—he couldn’t even grip a sword steadily.
He suddenly released his hand, which had begun trembling uncontrollably from the forced clenching, letting his arm fall limply to hang powerlessly at his waist. Closing his eyes, he let out a long breath.
…
Also in this pitch-black deep night, upstream on the great river at Jiangling in Jingzhou, beside the military barracks, an incense altar had been set up with candles burning all around. Five sacrificial animals for worshipping the gods were arranged on top.
People stood everywhere around it, all in full military gear, but silent without the slightest noise. Soldiers holding torches and wearing armor filled every space, creating an atmosphere of utmost solemnity.
The firelight illuminated this place bright as day, clearly revealing every detail of each person’s face before the altar.
Everyone’s gaze fell upon the man standing before the sacred altar.
Head of the Xu family, former Attendant, Minister, and current Jiangzhou Governor (transferred from Jingzhou Governor) Xu Mi—tonight he had shed his previous sickly demeanor and stood with bright eyes and vigorous spirit.
He faced the crowd, his gaze sweeping across the faces of the dozens of military commanders before him one by one, then said in a heavy voice: “The court is without virtue, treacherous ministers hold power, persecuting the loyal, causing heaven’s wrath and popular anger, triggering civil unrest. Not only do they fail to reflect and reform, they repeatedly pressure me. What can be tolerated if this cannot! I act only in self-defense! Tonight I, Xu Mi, swear a blood oath with all of you here—if heaven aids us in the future, we shall share wealth and honor. If I violate this oath, may heaven and earth destroy me. Those willing to follow me, drink this wine with me!”
His voice rang out powerfully. Having finished speaking, he took a dagger from a nearby deputy, cut his finger, and dripped blood into a wine jar before the altar. The crowd then followed suit, each coming forward to cut their hands and drip blood. Finally they poured the mixture into bowls and all drank the blood wine together, then simultaneously smashed their bowls.
Amid the simultaneous crashes of dozens of bowls hitting the ground, Xu Mi was in high spirits, laughing heartily, his gaze sweeping over everyone in the hall once more.
The crowd discussed grand plans for soon sending troops to attack Jiankang, all enthusiastic and spirited, except for one person who seemed completely out of place.
His gaze fell upon Yang Xuan, standing alone in one corner, and lingered for a moment.
Yang Xuan stood there by himself with a grave expression, not saying a word.
Xu Mi approached him calmly with a smile: “General Yang, what troubles you? Can you tell me?”
Yang Xuan immediately moved to bow respectfully, but unexpectedly Xu Mi reached out, guiding him to the altar front and having him face the crowd alongside himself. He declared loudly: “Everyone, our Jing-Xiang region owes its current situation primarily to General Yang’s achievements. I have always regarded him as a brother and have long harbored this intention. Taking advantage of this altar before us today, I, Xu Mi, wish to become sworn brothers with General Yang—I as elder brother, he as younger. From now on we shall share fortune and face hardship together!” As he spoke, he again called for wine, personally poured it, and presented it to the visibly surprised Yang Xuan.
Not only Yang Xuan, but even the military commanders in the hall were shocked, all turning to look.
Previously, when the Xu army was defeated and retreated south of Nanyang, then withdrew to Jing-Xiang, Nanyang fell back into Beixia hands. Not only were the previously gained northern expedition victories turned to nothing, but the Battle of Yangzhai had resulted in heavy casualties and losses. At that time Xu Mi had been squeezed out by Prince Xin’an and couldn’t feel secure, so he left Jiankang under the pretext of illness to recuperate, returning to Xuan City. Yang Xuan had come to request punishment then.
When everyone thought Xu Mi would certainly punish Yang Xuan—even if he spared his life, there would surely be no shortage of punishment and rebuke—his reaction surprised everyone completely.
Yang Xuan had knelt outside his room all night. At dawn, Xu Mi emerged with red eyes and a haggard appearance. He personally helped Yang Xuan up and finally spoke. His first words were not blame, but an order to bring out his own son Xu Chuo and execute him before the army to appease the spirits of the wrongly dead soldiers.
Who didn’t know that though Xu Mi had many sons, he had always valued Xu Chuo highly? Everyone was shocked. His trusted followers and military officers all desperately tried to dissuade him. Yang Xuan dared not rise, pleading to spare Xu Chuo and saying that his own withdrawal and failure to protect the commander’s seal made his guilt greater.
Just when everyone thought Xu Mi was only making a show to let the matter pass, his next action truly shocked them.
He ignored everyone’s pleas and actually ordered Xu Chuo seized and executed on the spot outside the camp gates.
Only then did Xu Chuo realize the severity of the situation. Weeping and begging for mercy, he explained that he had feared Lu Jianzhi would capture the city first and overshadow him, so in competing for glory he had momentarily acted foolishly. He begged his father’s forgiveness and promised never to dare again. Yang Xuan also desperately pleaded for him.
Xu Mi wept but refused to spare him, and finally had Xu Chuo executed.
Though this incident had occurred some time ago, everyone remembered it vividly. Seeing Xu Mi now wanting to become sworn brothers with Yang Xuan, countless gazes immediately fell upon him.
Seeing Yang Xuan hesitate without immediately accepting his wine, Xu Mi stared at him: “What’s this? Does younger brother Yang look down on me as an elder brother and refuse to swear brotherhood with me?”
Yang Xuan came to his senses and immediately knelt: “That Governor Xu would swear brotherhood with me is my great fortune, but this humble general is of lowly status and absolutely dares not harbor such presumptions. I beg the Governor to rescind this command. I appreciate the Governor’s kind intentions immensely.”
Xu Mi helped him up and pushed the wine toward him with a hearty laugh: “How can General Yang be so formal with me? Since you don’t refuse, then swear brotherhood with me. Hereafter we’ll treat each other as brothers—wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
Under Xu Mi’s gaze and the surrounding stares, Yang Xuan finally forced a smile and accepted the wine.
Xu Mi was delighted, grasping his hand and calling him “worthy brother.” The others also recovered and came forward with envy and congratulations.
Yang Xuan finally returned to his quarters, and the smile he had worn all evening suddenly vanished.
Dawn was not far off.
Soon, he too would have to lead troops from here, heading downstream along the river.
Their destination: Jiankang.
The Celestial Master rebellion had erupted, and in just over a month, the chaos had spread to commanderies throughout the Southern Dynasty’s heartland, involving hundreds of thousands of people.
Gao Qiao was deploying troops with full effort to suppress it.
Xu Mi finally could no longer restrain himself. After waiting a month, he secretly allied with the commandery governors Yao Dan of Jingling and Feng Xian of Jiangxia, deciding to seize this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to raise troops and advance downstream for a desperate gamble.
As an Xu family general, Yang Xuan had no choice but to comply.
He had once secretly harbored hope that Xu Mi might punish him for the defeat at Yangzhai—even execution would have given him a reason to completely break with his old master.
But from the day Xu Mi tearfully executed Xu Chuo, that small hope he had secretly nursed was completely shattered.
How could he not know why Xu Mi had changed his former attitude, first killing his son and tonight even condescending to swear brotherhood with him?
Actually, even without tonight’s performance by Xu Mi, he had never entertained thoughts of betrayal.
He could only obey orders to lead troops eastward—he had no other choice.
What had worried him these past days was not whether he should obey Xu Mi’s order to rebel, but another matter entirely.
Xu Mi did not fear Gao Qiao.
In the Southern Dynasty, the only person he truly feared was Li Mu, still far away in Longxi.
He knew Xu Mi was secretly hiding from him that he had already sent people to Jingkou, intending to seize Li Mu’s mother Lu Shi when the opportunity arose, so that if Li Mu returned with troops, he would have leverage to threaten him.
The arrow was nocked and had to be released.
After long hesitation, he finally made his decision and quietly summoned a trusted aide with instructions.
Watching that figure disappear into the night, the boulder that had weighed on his heart these past days finally lifted somewhat.
Regarding this impending rebellion, he alone was powerless to change anything.
This was all he could do.