Xiahou Zuo said with a grin: “Your wine is the world’s finest, his wine is also the world’s finest, and neither of you will yield to the other — so swap. You drink his wine now, he drinks yours.”

The moment he said this, both Dong Qian Yuan and Jialou Nation’s deputy delegate Sama froze.

Then the two exchanged a glance and saw something unsettling in each other’s eyes.

Xiahou Zuo, observing their reactions, rose and stepped between the two men, reached out, and exchanged their cups.

Then he made a welcoming gesture: “Go ahead. Taste each other’s wine. A wine’s quality can’t be judged by the one blowing their own horn — others need to taste it before anyone knows whether it’s truly good.”

Sama stared at the cup in his hands, momentarily at a loss, as if he no longer knew what to do.

At this, Mu Yan Mu Di let out a quiet sigh, reached out, and took the cup from Sama’s hand: “I’ll do it.”

Xiahou Zuo looked at Mu Yan Mu Di: “Oh? You want to steal Little Moon Lion’s fine wine for yourself?”

Mu Yan Mu Di smiled slightly and replied: “General, I am the lead delegate of Jialou Nation. Whether Jialou’s wine or Little Moon Lion’s wine is better — that judgment should rest with the lead delegates. Since Dong Qian Yuan has already raised that cup, I must raise this one.”

In that smile, Xiahou Zuo glimpsed something: the quiet release of a man who had already made his peace with this world and had no more attachments left in it.

Perhaps he had decided that being taken away by a cup of poisoned wine was not such a bad ending.

He was a meritorious servant of Jialou Nation, a hero of Jialou Nation. Without him, Jialou would never have become the hegemon of the Western Regions.

Yet for precisely that reason, his own elder brother — the King of Jialou, Le Ye Ku Xin — could not tolerate him.

“It seems you both have great confidence in your wine.”

Li Chi rose to his feet: “What if I were to taste it for you both? I shall be the judge — whose wine is truly finer?”

The moment Li Chi’s words landed, Dong Qian Yuan’s expression visibly changed and a brief flicker of light passed through his eyes — though it was gone almost as quickly as it appeared.

Brief as it was, it was caught by the very man standing across from him: Mu Yan Mu Di. In that instant, Mu Yan Mu Di concluded that something was wrong with Dong Qian Yuan’s wine.

After Li Chi spoke, and despite having noticed Dong Qian Yuan’s peculiar reaction, Mu Yan Mu Di suddenly raised his cup, tipped it to his lips, and swallowed every drop with loud gulping sounds.

When he was done, Mu Yan Mu Di set the bowl down on the table and raised his hand to wipe the corner of his mouth: “Not bad.”

Seeing this, Dong Qian Yuan had no choice but to raise his own cup and drain it just as loudly.

At this, Man Lai Ya Man, seated somewhat farther away, visibly grew uneasy. His expression shifted, and something complicated moved behind his eyes.

Dong Qian Yuan dared to drink because Man Lai Ya Man had told him their own wine was tainted, while Jialou Nation’s wine was clean.

Everything was under control, absolutely nothing could go wrong — because within the Jialou delegation, there was a mole Man Lai Ya Man had planted.

At the right moment, that mole would find a way to make the two men swap wines, and in doing so, poison Dong Qian Yuan to death.

He had also told Dong Qian Yuan that the poison in the wine was slow-acting — whether Mu Yan Mu Di drank it, or the Emperor of Ning drank it, there would be no immediate reaction. So he had nothing to worry about.

Everyone knew that Dong Qian Yuan, this simple-minded prince, was absolutely loyal to his brother’s word and never doubted a single thing Man Lai Ya Man told him.

So when Dong Qian Yuan received Jialou Nation’s wine, he had drained it with such straightforward confidence.

Man Lai Ya Man had carried out the order to kill Dong Qian Yuan. Even though Dong Qian Yuan was a man whose mind had been damaged, the King of Little Moon Lion, Bao Long Hua, still could not tolerate his existence.

That was a king who had never cared for familial bonds even once in his life. How Dong Qian Yuan had become the way he was — did anyone really need to wonder?

The old king’s most cherished third prince had been clever and brilliant from childhood; even at the age of ten or so, he could hold his own in debate against the court’s most senior officials and come out ahead.

When the old king asked how to handle state affairs, the third prince’s ideas were far superior to Bao Long Hua’s in every respect.

So on his deathbed, the old king’s regrets were immeasurable — he should never have let slip that he was considering naming the third prince as heir.

Because of that sign, his eldest son Bao Long Hua had begun to harbor murderous intentions. Though in truth, the murderous intentions had always been there — it was only that revelation that made Bao Long Hua stop concealing them.

The second prince, Dong Qian Yuan, was out playing with some companions when he was struck on the head by a rolling stone. He didn’t die, but his mind was never the same.

As for the third and fourth princes, Bao Long Hua had encouraged them to take a boat out together, saying there were brilliantly colored fish in the lake and that whoever caught one to present to their father would surely delight him greatly.

So those two children got in the boat to look for fish. It was said to be an accidental drowning — but how could it have been accidental?

There had been over a hundred guards present, with five or six boats circling the princes’ vessel to keep watch. Were any of those guards incompetent fools?

Yet when the two princes fell into the water, not one of those hundred-odd guards managed to save either of them.

The depths of Bao Long Hua’s viciousness could be seen from that alone.

But his most vicious act of all came after: before the old king could even begin to investigate, Bao Long Hua had already led his men and killed every last one of those guards.

Even though his brother Dong Qian Yuan was little more than a simpleton, he remained a constant thorn in Bao Long Hua’s side.

And so for this visit, though Man Lai Ya Man should have been the lead delegate by all rights, Bao Long Hua overruled everyone and appointed his own simpleton brother as the delegation’s head.

At the time, many within Little Moon Lion Nation were baffled — sending a simpleton as lead delegate to seek an audience with the Emperor of Great Ning? Was this some kind of joke?

Yet the king had issued the decree. Who could refuse?

Sending Dong Qian Yuan this time, Bao Long Hua had given Man Lai Ya Man a killing order: if Dong Qian Yuan was not disposed of by the time they returned, the National Preceptor need not come back himself.

Now, watching Bao Long Hua drain that bowl of wine, Man Lai Ya Man felt a chill of panic take hold despite himself.

He had lived through tremendous upheavals, endured countless dangers — yet what was about to happen was the killing of a prince.

The hinge of the entire plan lay in one question: would the wine actually get swapped?

Little Moon Lion’s wine truly contained no poison. If Xiahou Zuo had not prompted the swap, Man Lai Ya Man would have found another way to make it happen.

Jialou Nation’s wine was poisoned; theirs was not. So long as the swap occurred, Dong Qian Yuan would drink the poisoned wine and die.

That would prove Jialou Nation had been plotting to poison the Emperor of Great Ning — the Jialou delegation would face utter annihilation.

But if the swap couldn’t be arranged, Man Lai Ya Man had no way to use Jialou Nation’s people to poison Dong Qian Yuan.

Although — even without the swap, the impact on the plan of poisoning the Emperor was minimal.

Because even without the exchange, if Dong Qian Yuan drank his own wine and was perfectly fine, while Mu Yan Mu Di drank his own wine and died from the poison…

So when Xiahou Zuo suggested that Dong Qian Yuan and Mu Yan Mu Di swap wines, Man Lai Ya Man felt excitement surge through him.

Mu Yan Mu Di had drunk Little Moon Lion’s wine thinking he was going to die — yet nothing happened.

He waited for a moment. Still no reaction whatsoever.

He had drunk Little Moon Lion’s wine with such decisive certainty precisely because his earlier judgment had told him something was wrong with it.

Now Mu Yan Mu Di was genuinely puzzled — were these people from Little Moon Lion truly this straightforward?

His reasoning had been this: if a Black Warrior was embedded among the Western Regions delegations, it would almost certainly be within the Little Moon Lion delegation. So whatever wine Little Moon Lion offered the Emperor of Great Ning would surely be tampered with.

He had just begun to feel mildly perplexed when Dong Qian Yuan, standing directly across from him, suddenly changed color — and then clutched his abdomen and crumpled to the ground.

“It hurts!” Dong Qian Yuan cried out, then could no longer hold himself upright and collapsed, writhing continuously on the floor. Before long, black blood began to trickle from the corners of his mouth.

At the sight of this, the head of the Imperial Guard, Ye Xiao Qian, was the first to surge forward: “How dare you!”

Even as he lunged ahead, his sword was already in his hand, leveled at Mu Yan Mu Di, whose face had gone pale.

“The Jialou delegation has attempted assassination — seize everyone!”

Xiahou Zuo shouted the order at once.

But at that very moment, the Black Warrior Gan Luo knew his chance had come.

The head of the Imperial Guard had left the Emperor of Ning’s side, and right now, Gan Luo was standing less than half a zhang from Li Chi.

For someone of his caliber, half a zhang was a distance that barely existed. For a true master, half a zhang was less than a third of a breath.

He suddenly hurled the wine jar in his arms at Xiahou Zuo — knowing full well that the man who had become Commander of the Imperial Guards was someone of extraordinary power who had to be delayed.

The moment the jar left his hands, Gan Luo whipped a flexible sword from his belt, drove off with his feet, and thrust straight for Li Chi’s throat.

The distance was so close. A powerful fighter of great sword master caliber striking from this range with no warning — even the gods themselves might have been startled.

Li Chi was not startled. He hadn’t been looking at Gan Luo at all — his gaze was elsewhere.

As Gan Luo moved, numerous other figures throughout the crowd also drew concealed weapons.

They all carried flexible blades hidden on their persons, easy to conceal, and now surged toward Li Chi’s position from all sides.

Li Chi stood there as if he hadn’t reacted at all, making no move to dodge.

But had you been able to see Li Chi’s eyes at that moment, you would have understood why he didn’t dodge.

Gan Luo, the closest to him, had already struck — within the next breath, that flexible sword would find his throat.

Yet Li Chi’s eyes were not on Gan Luo. They were on the three colorfully-haired women: one red, one brown, one gold.

To anyone watching the scene, what the Emperor of Great Ning was doing would have been utterly incomprehensible.

To those who knew Li Chi, it would have prompted only a quiet sigh: the Emperor had nine taels riding on this wager — for *him*, that was a high-stakes gamble.

For a bet that high, of course you had to keep your eyes on it. Not just keep your eyes on it, but watch with complete attention.

So of course Li Chi wasn’t looking at the Black Warrior Gan Luo. That much made perfect sense — it was purely because of those nine taels.

Gan Luo was not about to waste a moment like this.

A great sword master in motion was like a thunderclap. No hesitation.

This thrust was a killing stroke he was certain of: the blade shed three cold gleams as it flew — one for the past, one for the present, one for the future.

One sword thrust, and all light extinguishes.

A quiet snap.

Just as Gan Luo’s blade was less than an inch from Li Chi’s throat, the back of his robes were suddenly seized by someone’s hand.

An enormous force immediately followed, wrenching him physically backward.

From a casual glance it looked as though someone had grabbed his clothing, but only a trained eye could see in that instant that it was not cloth being gripped — those fingers had hooked around Gan Luo’s very spine, five digits locked on bone like iron tongs.

—