However reluctant he was, however loath he was to leave, Gu Yanxi could not continue to indulge in personal affairs. Fortunately, he would not be far away, and there would no longer be any need for them to be separated by great distances.

“My lord, Qu Qi has sent word back.” Seeing his master emerge, Xue Liang spoke rapidly, “The Northern Camp has mutinied. They were intercepted at the northern city gate by the Central Camp. He has already made contact with the Chief of the Eighth Division.”

Gu Yanxi let out a cold laugh. “Tying up the Central Camp was all they intended to accomplish — it isn’t necessarily a full mutiny by the Northern Camp as a whole. The soldiers were most likely deceived by someone. Send word to Qu Qi: take command of the Northern Camp using the tiger tally. Anyone who defies the order — kill them.”

“Understood.” Xue Liang, who had been suppressing a stomach full of anger, finally felt some relief. This was why he liked serving under his lord — no need to swallow his grievances.

“Send word to the Eighth Division: root out every last rat hiding in the shadows. This is the ideal moment.”

“Understood.”

Gu Yanxi turned his gaze to the Crown Prince, whose eyes kept drifting toward the room inside. “A’Zhi has fallen asleep, Your Highness. Let us tend to the matters at hand first.”

The Crown Prince nodded. “Those people have all been apprehended — not one escaped.”

“How is Grandmother?”

“She appears outwardly calm.”

Yet everyone knew that within, she could not possibly be untroubled. If one were to speak of trust, the Empress Dowager likely trusted Yuxiang more than she trusted her own grandchildren — but Yuxiang’s blade had struck with such savagery that it left one chilled to the bone.

Gu Yanxi gave it a moment’s thought. “Your Highness, go and personally invite Her Ladyship to A’Zhi’s chambers — say that we are too occupied to attend to her, and ask her elder to help keep watch over A’Zhi for a while.”

The Crown Prince’s eyes brightened at once. “Exactly — if Grandmother has something to do, she won’t have as much space to dwell on troubled thoughts.”

Watching the Crown Prince stride off at a brisk pace, the uncertainty that had lingered in Gu Yanxi’s heart finally eased somewhat. He still has warmth in him; there is still softness within. Perhaps the future can be worth hoping for. If he one day becomes like his imperial uncle, A’Zhi is certain to grieve.

He set aside these concerns, worrying over things still far off, and turned to resolving one pressing matter after another. Then he made his way to the entrance of the Hall of Blessed Longevity, where a contingent of Chaoli tribespeople had been bound by the Seven Lodges Division using their distinctive method.

Even at this juncture, they kept their Strategist at the center of their circle. In some sense, the solidarity of the Chaoli tribe was deeply unsettling.

“One force hidden, one in plain sight — the Strategist is indeed a man of schemes.”

The aged Strategist sat on the ground. His expression held neither grief nor indignation — only a certain serenity, the composure of one who has seen through all things. “Not comparable to Lady Hua. She found no visible crack in our armor and yet she saw through it all the same. I had originally thought my final opponent would be Hua Yizheng — I never imagined I would ultimately be defeated by his granddaughter. Such is fate. One can only say that the fortune of Great Qing has yet to be spent.”

Gu Yanxi clasped his hands behind his back and looked up at the dark, heavy sky. “This official is somewhat curious — how many years has it been, from the first laying of this scheme until now?”

“Forty-five years.”

“And what is the Strategist’s age?”

“Sixty-one.”

“A considerable lifespan.” Gu Yanxi looked at him. “It has long been said that when a tribe produces a Strategist, that tribe shall flourish. To have had such deep and far-reaching designs at the age of sixteen — you are not unworthy of the name. That Great Qing suffered this calamity is no injustice.”

“Pity that heaven did not aid me.”

Footsteps sounded. Gu Yanxi turned to look, his expression not changing in the slightest.

Gu Yanze performed a proper bow. The sharp, jagged edges that had once been so visible about him seemed to have been worn down entirely overnight. Gu Yanxi could sense the change; he raised an eyebrow. “You have something to say?”

“I do. Your younger brother has a question to ask… Maternal grandfather.”

Gu Yanxi gave no particular response to the word “younger brother,” simply gesturing for him to proceed.

Gu Yanze looked at the old man surrounded on all sides. Before he had known him to be the Strategist, he had only known him as Xiao Chengcai — someone whose family ran a martial arts school, a man with some basic fighting skill, a genuine poor relation compared to the Ling Prince’s household. Yet this poor relation had never once come to take advantage of them; occasionally he would even have people bring things over for him. He had not disliked this set of relatives — even though they had no influence and couldn’t help Shizi the way the An’guo Duke’s household could, he had never disliked them.

Had he only known it would end like this, he would have been better off disliking them from the very beginning — then he would not be feeling this pain, would not be so… unable to breathe.

He covered his mouth and coughed several times, clearing the constriction in his chest, then asked the old man he had called “maternal grandfather” so many times, “From the very beginning, I was the one to be sacrificed, wasn’t I?”

The Strategist let out an appreciative sigh. “You are a perceptive child. Had your body been strong, we might have found another way.”

“So even if Chaoli had won by some stroke of fortune, I — carrying half the Gu bloodline — would not have survived. Is that it?”

“Great Qing bears the Gu name. The Gu family endures while the imperial house endures; the imperial house endures while Great Qing endures. It could never permit that.”

“As Lady Hua foretold.” Gu Yanze laughed bitterly. “My usefulness to you was considerable — I kept my father preoccupied, helped stabilize my mother’s position, allowed messages to be passed in my name, and at the last, you coaxed through me your own daughter — my mother, who believes in you as though you were a god — and drew her into your trap. You used me thoroughly and completely. To this day she still believes you will protect me, preserve your only bloodline. She never imagined the Strategist would be so utterly selfless toward the greater cause.”

“A difference in position — nothing more.” The Strategist’s expression remained unmoved, as though none of it touched him at all. “Life on the island is harsh. Women are frail; most do not live long. To bear even one child is a feat — sometimes mother and child alike cannot be preserved. Compared to two hundred years ago, the Chaoli tribe has not recovered, but has instead seen its numbers dwindle sharply. Left unchecked, extinction is the only destination. How could we sit and wait for that?”

“And so you gave up even your own daughter.” Gu Yanze turned to look in a particular direction. There, two stout women servants were holding Xiao Shi in place. A cloth had been stuffed into her mouth; her eyes were stretched wide open, staring at her father with an expression of utter disbelief.

The Strategist turned his face away, as though she were someone entirely without significance.

Watching his mother struggling to throw herself forward, Gu Yanze felt a vicious, savage satisfaction rise in him. None of them ever took him seriously. Every single one of them played him for a fool. Then let none of them have anything to be glad about.

Gu Yanxi, who had been watching the scene with leisurely interest, waved a hand. Someone stepped forward to escort Gu Yanze away. Looking at the Strategist, who had not so much as glanced in that direction, Gu Yanxi curved his lips slightly. “The Chaoli tribe’s numbers have been dwindling, and yet you dispatched large numbers of people to the northern Yinshan Pass, the southern Xinyu Pass, and the capital — very possibly even to Yueshan Pass in the west. How many people remain on that island?”

The Strategist looked up sharply. His pupils contracted. The man who had stood utterly immovable a moment ago went rigid all over. “What is the meaning of those words, Shizi?!”

“When my mother consort was poisoned all those years ago — that was Xiao Shi’s doing. Or rather,” Gu Yanxi said, his smile chilling, “that was your work, wasn’t it? Before I returned to the capital, I led men to destroy your stronghold. Whether there are any survivors left on that island — I really couldn’t say.”

“Gu Yanxi!” The Strategist shot to his feet. The others, straining against their bonds, scrambled upright one after another, staring at Gu Yanxi with burning eyes. Surely they had misheard — how could it be, how could it…

“Your people could invade our territory — that was acceptable. Your people could slaughter our citizens — that was acceptable. But I kill your tribespeople, and that is not acceptable? Does the entire world operate by rules set down by the Chaoli tribe alone?”

Author’s note: I kept editing and the second chapter came up short on word count — I’ll make it up tomorrow. And to everyone who expressed concern: it’s a superficial gastritis. My heartfelt thanks.