There was nothing more to say — further words would be pointless.
Xuanyuan Lige waited, perfectly calm, watching the Nanzhao king make his decision.
Decision wasn’t quite the right word — it was really a choice between two paths, one or the other.
For a long, long while, the Nanzhao king said nothing. The three clan heads exchanged glances — none of them, without question, wanted war, wanted the Nanzhao army marching on Xijing, wanted the world thrown into chaos.
Wasn’t that the very reason the Nanzhao royal family had destroyed the lost island in the first place?
The Nanzhao king kept his gaze just as calm on Xuanyuan Lige, though inside his mind churned like a stormy sea. Belatedly, it dawned on him — this frail, sickly young man before him was remarkably brave, remarkably clever.
Though it appeared to be a choice between two options, in truth the Nanzhao king could only pick one — the peaceful path. Otherwise he’d be contradicting the very reasoning behind the destruction of the lost island, and would raise doubts in the minds of the three clan heads.
After all, without the support of the three clans, what was the Nanzhao royal family, for all its noble blood, if it had no real skill of its own?
What a waste, that this young man had chosen to be nothing more than a musician instead of a general or minister!
And of course, the greater waste was that his life would be so short.
“Heh. Young man, I of course share the Medicine Clan head’s wish to turn swords into plowshares — to resolve this peacefully if we can. I’m willing to let you go. Only…”
Here the Nanzhao king paused, and deliberately walked closer to Xuanyuan Lige, looking at him with something like pity, before continuing, “Only, I truly cannot set my mind at ease over your frail health. I wouldn’t want you to fall before your work is done. How about this — I’ll send along a capable aide to lend you a hand?”
What the Nanzhao king really meant, of course, was that he intended to plant someone at Xuanyuan Lige’s side.
Xuanyuan Lige didn’t mind in the least, and even smiled faintly. “Then I owe Your Majesty my thanks.”
With Consort Qin whispering in his ear, whatever man Xuanyuan Lige wanted, the Nanzhao king would send exactly that man — he already had someone in mind.
“No need for thanks. Securing peace for the people of this world is a duty we all share,” the Nanzhao king said earnestly. “Now, I’ve yet to hear what plan you have to persuade Princess Qianqian.”
Yelu Chenyi had died in Nanzhao over the matter of Yanzi, and the Nanzhao king naturally wanted the full details.
Xuanyuan Lige said only two words. “The spring.”
At this, the Nanzhao king froze for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Clever! Young man, you truly are clever!”
Water was the scarcest thing in the desert — and underground spring water, the rarest treasure of all!
“If the water at Xijing’s new capital turns out to be poisoned, they’ll naturally have to search for a new water source to make up for it — perhaps even relocate the capital again, which Xijing simply cannot afford. And Akebachu is the closest source to the new capital.” Xuanyuan Lige said calmly.
Digging for groundwater — what a perfectly reasonable pretext!
That night, the Nanzhao king had Xuanyuan Lige settled in the envoy’s residence and set about arranging for guards to be sent along.
And that very night, Xuanyuan Lige sent a secret letter to Yelu Qianqian, asking her to play along and put on a show for the Nanzhao king’s benefit.
Xuanyuan Lige had already thought it all through. He decided that if Ziqing truly had been cultivated into a human Gu, he would stay and remain by her side. And if she hadn’t yet been cultivated, then even at the cost of offending the Nanzhao king, he would still get her out.
Far too many people wanted to find Ziqing.
At that moment, still searching desperately across the desert, it wasn’t only Yingzi and his group — Baili Weisheng was searching too.
Of course, at present he wasn’t looking for Ziqing at all, but for Nanny Gu!
In the dead of night, the desert lay desolate as though utterly uninhabited. Baili Weisheng, wrapped in his robe, stood amid the boundless yellow sand, tilting his head upward, straining to sense something in the scent carried on the wind.
The only way to find Nanny Gu was to track her by scent, letting it guide his direction.
The entrance to the world of poison beasts lay beneath the deep pool in the underground chamber. The tornado hadn’t blown away the sand above the chamber, yet the chamber itself had been destroyed — clearly, when the tornado struck, something had happened both to the underground chamber and to the gate of the world of poison beasts itself.
As for the world of poison beasts, Baili Weisheng only knew where the entrance was — he had no idea about any barrier or seal surrounding it. He only knew that, back then, he’d never finished reading that scripture in full.
He mulled it over — once the human Gu was fully cultivated, how would Nanny Gu even get it out?
If he hadn’t suspected Nanny Gu’s involvement in all this, he’d certainly have just kept digging through the sand himself — that was the only method available.
But since Nanny Gu was involved, everything changed.
Given her abilities, there was no way she’d resort to digging through sand herself. So if she’d dared to send Han Ziqing into the world of poison beasts, she must already have a way to bring her back out!
What exactly had happened underground when the tornado struck — only Nanny Gu knew that.
Baili Weisheng never dreamed that today he’d find himself so desperate to go seek out, of his own will, the old woman he’d spent his whole life avoiding, fearing, and despising.
In truth, he’d never really examined his own motives, his true purpose.
What exactly was he looking for Nanny Gu for? To find a way into the world of poison beasts and rescue Han Ziqing — or simply to destroy the entrance outright, so the human Gu could never emerge at all?
He didn’t dwell on it further. Right now, only one thought filled his mind: find the entrance!
Suddenly, his tightly closed eyes slowly opened. Found it — to the west!
But there was no joy in finally locating the direction. Instead he bit down on his lip, brow furrowed tight, rubbing his chin anxiously, clearly agitated.
“What now? What now?”
“Damn that old crone who won’t die, I can’t beat her! What now?”
…
He muttered to himself, wrestling with the problem. He’d been raised by Nanny Gu, and she knew exactly where his vital weak point lay — she knew precisely which poisons could kill him instantly. Charging over there now would be nothing short of suicide.
“Vital point…”
Baili Weisheng murmured to himself, and suddenly his clear, bright eyes narrowed into two thin slits, as if he’d hit upon some idea, cunning as an old fox.
Under the moonlight, hood drawn low, only the lower half of his face visible, he broke into a wide grin — the very image of a demon lurking in the deep of night.
“Filthy old crone who won’t die — if I don’t finish you off this time, I’m not Baili Weisheng!”
He said this, then, thinking twice, immediately changed his tone, his voice turning strange and sly, growing even more venomous. “Old monster — if I don’t cultivate you into a Gu this time, I’ll quit the Gu-cultivation trade for good!”
Having said this viciously, he pulled his robe tight and turned to leave. Nanny Gu was to the west — yet he headed northeast instead. What was he up to?
Naturally, he was heading for the Xiongnu — Nanny Gu’s vital weakness lay with the Xiongnu!
Baili Weisheng traveled almost without pause, pushing himself to the limit, until he spotted a procession of riders from the Xijing imperial palace.
He paused atop a dune and recognized at a glance that it was Yelu Chenguang’s convoy — heading toward Da Zhou?
At a time like this, what business did Yelu Chenguang have going to Da Zhou?
Baili Weisheng didn’t dwell on it, veering due north instead. Back when he’d saved Jun Beiyue, it was because Jun Beiyue could help Han Ziqing find the lost island. Now everything had changed entirely — he couldn’t care less whether Jun Beiyue lived or died.
That scheming, cold-hearted man had once cut him down with a blade — the fact that he hadn’t taken the chance to stab him back was generosity enough already.