Second Junior Brother snorted a few times and breathed on Murong Yi. Murong Yi turned his head aside, and where that breath hit the water, dead fish immediately floated belly-up to the surface.

Murong Yi sighed, “Second Junior Brother has tender skin and beautiful flesh, and should be treated with roasting and cumin. But alas, though you are a fine pig, your whole body is poisonous.”

This was exactly what Tie Ci meant by giving him the pig. This group of pigs was poisonous, and since Murong Yi generally wasn’t afraid of poison anyway, he might as well carry it as a weapon. Perhaps it could even fight poison with poison against the toxin in his body.

The two exchanged glances. Some words couldn’t be shouted loudly, yet they couldn’t approach each other to ask. They both sighed in unison and returned to a nearby warship.

Tie Ci boarded the deck and saw Xiao Xueya standing there, still wearing his hat. He said gravely, “Qi Lingyuan and the others were all scalded to death.”

Tie Ci frowned.

The opponent had come to silence witnesses, acting leisurely right before her eyes.

She had never suffered such a significant defeat, and the key was being helpless about it.

Could this person be the strongest among the Three Maniacs and Five Emperors in the Southwest that Chentuntian had mentioned?

If it was him, why would he be manipulated by others to oppose her?

Could the person commanding him be from the Yannan Prince Wuping’s mansion? Would such a person easily submit to others’ control?

At Tie Ci’s level, court political struggles and intrigues no longer greatly constrained her. Common bureaucratic traps and conspiracies couldn’t shake her in the slightest, since she was the one who wielded power. She only needed to control more military force to overcome ten schemes with one force.

Coming to Yannan, she first needed to ensure stability in neighboring Qianzhou and Nanyue, then take advantage of the unstable succession in the Yannan Prince’s mansion to support the faction willing to submit to the court, suppress disruptive elements, and use this as a condition for the court to send troops or rotate garrisons, reclaim Yannan’s military power, or simply revoke the Yannan title – thus the region would return to the Great Qian.

Such decisions benefited both the court and future generations. There would be no open resistance in court, though they would naturally threaten some people’s interests privately. But those people couldn’t use righteousness or cabinet pressure to trip her up – they could only stop her, obstruct her, or even kill her.

This was also a method of using force to overcome ten schemes, simply seeing who had more force and was more brutal.

In such circumstances, this suddenly appearing peerless master was like a bug, casting a shadow over Tie Ci’s path forward.

Even with a large army, Tie Ci would find it difficult to detain such a master. This expert skilled in using poison, who might even possess the antidote to Murong Yi’s toxin, could haunt Tie Ci’s path like a persistent ghost.

Not to mention this expert was likely backed by a mysterious family allied with the current ruling faction of Yannan Prince’s mansion.

After pondering for a while, she told Dan Shuang, “Send a team to Yangcheng, the capital of Qianzhou, to investigate recent movements of the Qianzhou Regional Military Commission.”

Xiao Xueya had told her that though the dozen or so ships loaded with fire oil had all their markings erased, military ships were different from civilian vessels – they could be identified as ships from the Water Patrol Commission.

Xizhou fell under Qianzhou’s jurisdiction, and all Water Patrol Commission ships within Qianzhou belonged directly to the Qianzhou Regional Military Commission. The Xizhou Patrol Commission’s battalion commander had been at tonight’s banquet where Qi Lingyuan entertained Tie Ci, and had just been scalded to death in the bottom hold. But his authority wasn’t sufficient to mobilize so many ships.

Dan Shuang accepted the order and went to arrange personnel, while telling her, “Mu Si says he wants to help us select and train a team from the Nine Guards specifically for intelligence gathering and prisoner interrogation.”

This was naturally Murong Yi’s idea. After thinking, Tie Ci said, “Embroidered Uniform Guard?”

Across from her, Murong Yi smiled from afar.

Tie Ci had long discovered that Murong Yi was very skilled at interrogating prisoners, with an extremely sharp and ruthless style. She had previously suspected he was connected to the Embroidered Uniform Guard, but this should be Murong Yi’s greatest foundation and biggest secret in Liaodong, so she hadn’t asked. Now Murong Yi was essentially revealing it himself, which warmed her heart slightly.

She also understood Murong Yi’s proposal was equivalent to having her establish a secret imperial surveillance and interrogation organization similar to the Embroidered Uniform Guard, which would indeed make her future actions much more convenient. However, she had been educated by her master, who had told her extensively about the various drawbacks of such organizations.

The Imperial Guard, Eastern and Western Factories, Blood Drop – tools for emperors to consolidate power. Wherever they went, officials wept, leaving behind bloody traces of slaughter and conspiracy.

Master said that power was a double-edged sword that harmed people. Few could wield it while maintaining long-term clarity, not even emperors.

Much less ordinary people and eunuchs.

When emperors raised daggers to secure power, when those daggers developed their own will, officials and common people would suffer.

Moreover, trust was rare while suspicion was a human weakness. Using the Imperial Guard to monitor officials, then using the Eastern Factory to suppress the Imperial Guard – who would constrain and supervise the Eastern Factory?

Master had spoken of that Ming Dynasty that loved implementing terror rule – Imperial Guard cavalry roamed everywhere, from princes above to commoners below, all under their sinister gaze. Personal vendettas, implication and false accusations were countless. The Northern and Southern Command prisons were overcrowded, mostly with innocents, and such scenes continued throughout the Ming Dynasty. Master said that once-vast and powerful dynasty ultimately didn’t fall to rebels, but to the factory guards.

Emperors who did such things were fundamentally insecure about their own power and perpetually fearful of losing it, weren’t they?

She said, “We can learn some techniques and methods, but needn’t copy their systems and mechanisms wholesale.”

Dan Shuang nodded and left to carry out orders.

Xiao Xueya approached her, saying, “Your Highness seems to lack specialized talents for investigation and surveillance.”

Tie Ci thought you’ve also thought of this area, but it’s not that I don’t want them – I just haven’t had the chance yet.

After all, over a year ago, the Crown Princess’s Nine Guards weren’t entirely hers. Such secret talents couldn’t be cultivated using the Crown Princess’s Nine Guards.

Di Yiwei did have such talents, but military personnel like this were difficult to cultivate and naturally needed priority deployment on the front lines.

On a whim, she asked Xiao Xueya, “Are you suggesting I also establish an Embroidered Uniform Guard?”

“Does Your Highness think it’s necessary?” Xiao Xueya gazed at her intently.

Tie Ci smiled and briefly shared her thoughts with him. Finally, she laughed, “Having such a blade would indeed strengthen control and increase efficiency, but people’s hearts would scatter, trust would disappear, and ultimately when everyone is played to death and the common people become alienated, who could you still control?”

Xiao Xueya remained silent throughout.

He still had a letter in his sleeve pocket, recently arrived, still stiffly lodged there.

The letter contained the same urgent advice as many previous letters, every word anxious, along with much information he shouldn’t know.

The Crown Princess’s preferences, schedule, temperament, some unknown little habits and secrets that even she herself didn’t notice.

All this came from the Xiao family’s spy network.

The Xiao family had their own intelligence organization, cultivated over many years, holding secrets about most court officials that were unknown to others.

Some had been used, others waited for the right moment.

This information had given him much convenience in the past, especially when he first commanded troops, rotated garrisons, and gained power. Those who tried to trip him up, showed negligence or contempt, acted self-importantly, or attempted to seize power would always face consequences.

Over time, it seemed to become addictive.

As if doing so was natural and right.

Until today on the river, hearing Tie Ci speak such words.

Hearing the imperial heir who should most rightfully wield such weapons speak such words.

He suddenly broke into a cold sweat.

The heir apparent was unwilling to wield blades and weave nets against the world, yet the Xiao family had grasped the blade first.

And he had grown accustomed to it, accepting it with equanimity.

Power was a breeding ground for desire – how many silently rotted upon it? He thought himself unstained by worldly dust, yet had long become someone who manipulated power and schemes.

The person before him was truly one with a clear and bright heart.

He suddenly said, “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Tie Ci thought he was thanking her for the advice that saved the warships, and smiled slightly to indicate it was nothing.

His ship was also her ship anyway.

Even if not temporarily, it would be eventually.

She was confident of that.

As they passed each other, the river wind was strong, and suddenly a gust blew by.

Xiao Xueya was still lost in thought and didn’t notice his newly worn hat’s ties were loose and about to be blown off by the wind.

Tie Ci suddenly reached out and pressed his hat down.

Xiao Xueya: “…”

So she had seen it earlier after all!

Tie Ci decided to see the good deed through and very deftly helped him tie the strings in a knot.

Xiao Xueya seemed about to say something when Tie Ci’s snow-white fingers inadvertently brushed his Adam’s apple.

Xiao Xueya’s whole body stiffened, all words stuck in his throat.

The person before him was too close – so close that lowering his eyes, he could see her warm jade-like neck gracefully extending into her collar, with a faint glimpse of delicate, slender collarbones that seemed they would shatter with a gentle tap.

His fingers unconsciously moved, grazing the sword he carried at his back. The sword seemed too cold, making his fingers tremble and pull away.

Tie Ci was completely oblivious. She finished tying it in a few moves and, knowing this person cared too much about face and fearing he’d go mad, waved and walked away.

She had walked quite far before Xiao Xueya’s Adam’s apple moved and his lips pressed together.

His throat was dry, yet the skin at his throat felt slightly itchy. He raised his hand as if to touch it, then quickly lowered it again.

When he lowered his hand, his sleeve rustled softly.

The family letter lodged stiffly there.

His fingers moved slightly.

Suddenly someone landed beside him. He stopped his hand and saw it was Murong Yi, immediately stepping aside.

Murong Yi looked at him and moved closer.

Xiao Xueya stepped aside again.

Murong Yi moved closer again.

This time Xiao Xueya didn’t yield, saying coolly, “I’ll give you half a quarter-hour. Finish what you want to say.”

Murong Yi acted as if he hadn’t heard, rummaging in his sleeve for a long time before pulling out two thick cylindrical objects wrapped in rough yellow paper with golden grass-like material inside. Murong Yi pulled out a fire starter, lit one, tossed it to Xiao Xueya, and put the other between his lips, taking a deep breath.

Xiao Xueya instinctively caught it and immediately smelled an extremely strong, pungent odor that cleared his head while being somewhat smoky. He said in surprise, “Opium paste?”

“Not the same thing. This comes from Luzon in the Nanyang region – it’s a type of leaf called tobacco. The smoke after burning is quite refreshing and brain-clearing. The natives there use hollow reed tubes filled with it, burning the leaves to inhale the smoke. My fleet brought some back when going to sea. I wrapped it in homemade yellow paper – much more satisfying to smoke.”

Xiao Xueya glanced at Murong Yi.

Organizing a fleet wasn’t simple. Sea charts alone were treasures worth fortunes that couldn’t be bought – a complete, safe route chart could ensure safe passage for maritime trading companies, guaranteeing long-term massive profits. Charts themselves required seafarers to spend lifetimes at sea mapping them. One could say a single chart could ensure a family’s prosperity for generations. Those who could successfully go to sea and own fleets were without exception powerful houses of the time.

“Are you smoking or not? If not, give it back – it’s very expensive.” Seeing him holding the thing without smoking, Murong Yi felt very distressed and snatched it back, extinguishing the tip and putting it away. He took another deep drag from his own and exhaled a white, round smoke ring.

Xiao Xueya was silent for a moment, his mind full of complexity. There were really too many points to criticize and he didn’t know which to choose. After a while, he said coldly, “The Liaodong Prince Heir is surprisingly skilled in commerce – quite unexpected.”

Murong Yi wasn’t surprised he knew his identity. Honestly, accompanying Tie Ci all the way to Yannan, he hadn’t bothered hiding anything. How could ordinary people possess large ships suitable for both commerce and warfare with complete weaponry, or elite guards capable on both land and water? Since Xiao Xueya undertook the task of escorting Tie Ci into Yannan, he would naturally investigate him. Xiao Xueya didn’t even need to investigate – the Xiao family should have checked him after their failed attempt at the Imperial Garden.

Xiao Xueya should have received word long ago yet remained composed throughout. Murong Yi couldn’t stand his pretense and couldn’t help provoking him. He hadn’t expected this fellow to be so easily provoked – one smoke ring and he couldn’t help but jab at him.

He’d thought the man would maintain his iceberg act longer.

He smiled, “You flatter me, you flatter me.”

Xiao Xueya looked at him askance.

Rumors said the new Liaodong Prince Heir was ruthless and merciless, a reborn killing god who had single-handedly pursued his own father and brothers from Yongping to Liaodong, eliminating five brothers along the way through various means, forcing his father to have no choice but to name him heir.

Before this, he had already cleanly eliminated several most likely inheritors, including the eldest son and the powerful legitimate second son.

Xiao Xueya didn’t engage in power struggles, but he read books. History books recorded various forms of succession struggles, mostly involving schemes, alliances, and connections, but he’d never seen Murong Yi’s type.

Many competitors? Just kill them all.

When Xiao Xueya first heard of this, he thought this new heir must be an extremely bloodthirsty brute. But thinking again, dealing with someone as deeply calculating as Prince Da’an, any other methods might backfire. Only this move of removing the foundation could make Prince Da’an view him differently.

Without meeting him, he’d speculated what kind of sinister figure this must be. After actually meeting the person… it was truly hard to describe.

But what he didn’t understand was why, having used any means necessary for the princely title, Murong Yi didn’t stay in Liaodong to strike while the iron was hot, cultivate relationships with powerful ministers, and consolidate his position. Instead, he abandoned all this to run to the Great Qian Crown Princess’s side.

Could he want to use the Great Qian heir apparent as an offering to Prince Da’an?

This would indeed consolidate his position as Liaodong Prince Heir better than anything else.

And the Crown Princess clearly trusted him extremely…

A trace of irritation suddenly passed through Xiao Xueya’s heart. He said coldly, “Why do you continue playing dumb? Liaodong is restless, Prince Da’an is ambitious and doesn’t respect the court, yet you stay by the Crown Princess’s side, fawning over her. What are your intentions?”

“My intentions?” Murong Yi laughed, “Naturally, I came for A’ci.”

“Smooth talk…”

“I said I came for the Crown Princess, and you call it smooth talk, not even willing to hear me explain.” Murong Yi interrupted him, “Is it because in your heart you think I’m lying, that descendants should act in accordance with family interests?”

Xiao Xueya suddenly fell silent, his lips pressed in a tight, straight line.

“When I first met you in Ziyang last year, you didn’t seem to think this way. You knew that batch of meteoric iron swords was connected to the Xiao family, but still chose to personally pursue and retrieve them.” Murong Yi said, “But now, your thinking seems to have changed.”

Xiao Xueya remained silent, his expression as cold as snow on stone.

“You seem to be hesitating, wavering, weighing and considering. This appears very rare in your sharply decisive life. What are you hesitating, wavering, weighing and considering?” Murong Yi narrowed his eyes, contentedly blowing a smoke ring toward the river water, “Hmm, let me guess… whether to save the Xiao family? Whether to kill the Crown Princess?”

Xiao Xueya whirled around, his gaze like knives and ice.

But Murong Yi didn’t even look at him, maintaining that unhurried tone, his voice pleasant enough to make knees weak, yet every word seemed designed to flay someone alive, “What talk of Marshal Xue’s cliff-like integrity, pure as jade and ice? It’s all just ladders climbed up and steps that can’t be descended. The Xiao family’s overwhelming power gave you the opportunity to look down on the world. In Ziyang, because the Xiao family was powerful, you could be yourself, ignoring everything except human principles. But now the Xiao family makes you feel that if you don’t care, it will perish. What terrifies you about the Xiao family’s destruction isn’t losing wealth and status – you wouldn’t care about such things. What you fear is losing your military authority, your battlefield, your opportunity and dreams of conquering in all directions and expanding territory.”

Xiao Xueya stared at him motionlessly. His pupils were lighter than most people’s, clear as crystal in sunlight, creating bone-deep coldness when staring unblinkingly.

Yet Murong Yi kept smiling throughout, even the corners of his eyes curved upward, complementing his flying brows with a thin seductiveness, though his gaze held the mockery of one coldly observing the world.

“So who would know that the iceberg-like Marshal Xue is actually a weak person? Relying on the Xiao family’s power to achieve great deeds while disdaining their methods and wanting to sever ties to build your own reputation for justice. But when the critical moment comes for a real break, you can’t bear to abandon the Xiao family’s mountain-like background and abundant resources. In the end, neither son nor grandson, neither general nor minister – what can you still be?”

A burnt cigarette stub fell from his full, red lips. He blew gently, and it turned to ash in the world.

He smiled, “You think I’m like a sycophant, but in my eyes, you can’t even be a good sycophant.”

Xiao Xueya stared at him as the wind on the river seemed to freeze solid at this moment.