June had arrived, and Mount Yao lay ahead.

The imperial carriage departed Jiankang on the twenty-fifth day of the fifth month, reaching the Mount Yao traveling palace on the eighth day of the sixth month. The grand sacrificial ceremony was scheduled for the tenth day of the sixth month—a so-called once-in-a-century auspicious day calculated by the Court of Imperial Sacrifices.

The emperor’s procession was naturally extraordinary in its grandeur. All along the route, banners fluttered and crowds gathered in bustling excitement, drawing common people to bow in reverence and shout “Ten thousand years!” If one were unaware of the turbulent complexities of the court situation, one might truly believe this was some golden age of peace and prosperity.

Upon reaching the traveling palace, officials from the Court of Imperial Sacrifices busied themselves with preparations. Qi Le, the Fourth Young Master of the Qi family and Assistant Director of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, naturally couldn’t remain idle either. He had to closely follow his various superiors in meticulously inspecting every arrangement for the grand heavenly sacrifice ceremony—whether the ritual vessels had been properly positioned, whether the altar had been constructed appropriately, and even whether the livestock awaiting slaughter were still alive and well. Everything required verification to ensure no mishaps would occur during the grand ceremony that might anger the divine spirits and bring calamity upon Great Liang.

Unlike Qi Le and his fellow officials from the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, General Han Shouye’s busy preparations could not be exposed openly but had to be carefully hidden beneath the surface.

As the foremost military official of the dynasty, General Han’s exalted position naturally required him to accompany the imperial procession. Additionally, his eldest son Han Feicong also traveled with the army to protect the emperor. Han Feicong had been quite busy during this period, having just returned from inspecting border defenses in the Gaoping area before immediately escorting the sacred carriage to Mount Yao—truly exhausting work.

In reality, this general’s trip to Gaoping had nothing to do with inspecting border defenses, but was solely to personally assassinate his superior, the Left Chancellor.

His father Han Shouye was extremely obsessed with assassinating Qi Ying. As long as he couldn’t see the corpse, he would feel endangered, always fearing the other party would stab him in the back. Therefore, after the failed interception at Qingyuan, he didn’t hesitate to send his eldest son personally to the borderlands, instructing Han Feicong to personally confirm Qi Ying’s life or death and absolutely not allow him to return alive to Jiangzuo.

Han Feicong naturally obeyed his father’s orders.

After the Qingyuan interception, the Left Chancellor had somehow vanished without a trace, disappearing completely. If not for the fact that none of the assassins sent had returned alive, Han Feicong might have truly believed he was already dead. Presumably, the Left Chancellor was now hiding somewhere in the northern territories, but the north was so vast—where should he begin searching?

Han Feicong had a genuine headache for a while before finally figuring out one thing: regardless of where the Left Chancellor currently was, if he wanted to return to Jiangzuo, he would inevitably have to cross water—the Bian River, Huai River, or Yangtze River… one of them at least.

If so, what he needed to do was blockade all ferry crossings in the border areas and strictly inspect every boat coming from the northern territories. As long as he accomplished this, even if the Left Chancellor had divine powers, he would have to surrender.

Han Feicong acted decisively, immediately dispatching men to secretly investigate all ferry crossings and waterways along the border, maintaining strict vigilance day and night. He personally stationed himself at the junction between Northern Wei’s Dongping Prefecture and Great Liang’s Gaoping Prefecture, closely monitoring the Bian and Si river ports.

After watching for several days without results, Han Feicong couldn’t help feeling somewhat bored. While continuing to inspect southbound vessels, he began harboring ulterior motives—ah, since he was already here, if he didn’t take the opportunity to fleece the passing merchant ships, how could he justify the hardship of this errand?

Currently, there was no comprehensive trade between north and south. Many traveling merchant vessels carefully navigated the legal boundaries of both countries. Without officials from both nations as backing, this business couldn’t operate. With Han Feicong now stationed here, he was like a mountain rising from flat ground. If merchants wanted their goods not to be confiscated, they had to sensibly slip some benefits into Young General Han’s hands to buy peace.

Therefore, after Han Feicong guarded this crossing for several days, whether or not he caught anyone, his purse had certainly grown considerably fatter, which pleased him greatly.

On the first day of the sixth month, it so happened that Han Feicong encountered a merchant named Gong Xun who dealt in salt trading. This was an old acquaintance of Han Feicong’s—they had dealings four or five years ago. To ensure Han’s protection while transporting salt from north to south, Gong Xun had secretly sent him countless silver taels over the years, keeping him quite comfortable.

When the two met that day, Gong Xun seemed quite surprised to encounter Han Feicong in Gaoping, appearing genuinely startled. But being shrewd, he quickly disembarked and approached General Han with warm greetings and excessive courtesy, while carefully presenting a red envelope, praying that the general would protect his safety as in the past.

Han Feicong accepted the red envelope, weighed it and found it quite heavy, which improved his mood even further. His attitude toward Gong Xun became increasingly cordial. After chatting casually for a few moments, he said, “Ordinarily it would be fine, but these past few days are special. Every vessel crossing the river must have its cargo holds opened for inspection. With so many eyes watching, I can hardly show you too much favoritism—just open your ship’s hold and I’ll send someone in for a quick look.”

Upon hearing this, Gong Xun nodded and bowed in agreement, but his expression seemed somewhat troubled. After thinking for a moment, he leaned close to Han Feicong’s ear and said in a lowered voice, “The general doesn’t know—I… I have some things in this ship’s hold that aren’t quite suitable for public viewing…”

Hearing this, Han Feicong frowned, his expression immediately becoming serious as he asked, “What do you mean? What are you carrying in your ship?”

Gong Xun scratched the back of his head with an embarrassed expression, chuckling awkwardly twice before saying, “It’s… it’s nothing much, just… just mixed in some small salt…”

Small salt.

This had some implications.

Official salt from both northern and southern dynasties was expensive, difficult for common people to afford. The people found other methods—some extracted salt from plant ash, others collected moldy soil from the roots of their house walls and boiled it, with the resulting white powder being called “small salt.” This substance barely had some salty flavor, but long-term consumption wasn’t beneficial for bodily health. But what choice did common people have? They could only use this as a substitute.

Han Feicong immediately understood: this Gong Xun was mixing small salt with official salt to reap enormous profits from the price difference!

No wonder his tributes were always so generous!

Han Feicong felt both angry and amused, calling Gong Xun a “profiteering merchant.” Gong Xun didn’t talk back, just smiled apologetically, then pleaded, “General, please show mercy and spare this humble person this time. There are many people with loose tongues at this ferry crossing. If the hold is opened and someone discovers the truth, this humble person’s head won’t remain on his shoulders! General, saving one life is better than building a seven-story pagoda—please leave this humble person a way to live.”

This plea was quite earnest, and combined with Gong Xun’s pitiful appearance, it seemed especially sincere. Han Feicong had known him for many years and had received countless benefits from him—he should help with such a favor at least once.

Han Feicong believed that the Left Chancellor’s group wouldn’t happen to be hiding precisely on Gong Xun’s ship. He was indeed inclined to let him pass, but then he remembered his father’s repeated instructions before departure, demanding he not overlook any trace of evidence and must obtain Qi Jingchen’s head. If he bungled this matter, his father’s great undertaking might be shaken. Once they failed, their entire clan would perish along with them—this was no joke.

Though Han Feicong was as rash as his father, he naturally knew to take such important matters seriously. His brow furrowed, and he was about to refuse Gong Xun’s plea when, before he could speak, he heard commotion from the other side of the ferry crossing. The numerous soldiers he had brought all drew their swords as an unremarkable black boat ignored inspection orders and hoisted its sail, rushing downstream!

Han Feicong was greatly alarmed, immediately pushing aside Gong Xun and rushing to the riverbank. He saw a figure standing vaguely on the boat. Looking closely, he saw the person wearing a high cap and wide robes with phoenix eyes—it was none other than the Left Chancellor he had been desperately seeking for days!

Good! While he was distracted, this scoundrel actually tried to force his way through!

If he let him escape, Han Feicong’s name should be written backwards from this day forward!

Rage blazed in Han Feicong’s heart. He immediately drew his sword to command his soldiers to pursue and capture Qi Ying by boat. But that Gong Xun, lacking awareness, still clung to him asking, “General! General! What about this humble person’s matter…”

Han Feicong had no mind for his trivial affairs. After snapping “Get lost!” he hurried toward the distance, not noticing the flash of sharp light in Gong Xun’s eyes behind him.

Gong Xun quietly returned to his merchant vessel, then unhurriedly disappeared across the river surface.

Things became quite lively on Han Feicong’s side.

The small boat the Left Chancellor rode wasn’t large, but with favorable wind it was extremely fast. After pursuing for a long time without catching up, he was finally forced to order his soldiers to shoot fire arrows.

Arrow after arrow was soaked in oil and, once lit, burned continuously. At Han Feicong’s command, ten thousand arrows flew simultaneously, instantly covering the entire river surface. How could that small boat escape such calamity? Naturally, it soon burst into flames, billowing with thick black smoke.

Han Feicong personally watched the boat burn to pieces before sinking into the river. Never mind the Left Chancellor’s mere mortal flesh—even if the greatest immortal came, he absolutely couldn’t escape death.

He was quite certain, but still cautiously sent subordinates to salvage from the river, though they couldn’t retrieve anything—dead bodies sink in the river and are naturally quickly swept downstream by the rolling waters, or would soon be devoured by fish. To think this Qi Jingchen was also a legitimate heir of an aristocratic family and a powerful minister of his generation, yet in the end he met such a fate of burial in fish bellies—truly lamentable and tragic.

Han Feicong hypocritically sighed for a while, though his heart was actually filled with joy at finally killing Qi Jingchen. Thus in high spirits, he returned to Jiankang to report to his father.

Han Shouye repeatedly asked whether he had personally witnessed Qi Ying’s death, and Han Feicong repeatedly answered that he had indeed seen it with his own eyes. After more than ten such exchanges, Han Shouye was finally convinced. Father and son both breathed sighs of relief simultaneously, and Han Shouye finally dared to stake everything on one throw.

Mount Yao…

Though the emperor leaving Jiankang was disadvantageous to him, he still had confidence in achieving victory in this battle. The military forces the emperor could mobilize nearby were limited in number—he knew them all. Now that Qi Jingchen was also dead, wasn’t the situation greatly favorable to him? Moreover, even if the emperor went to Mount Yao, the Empress Dowager remained in the palace. If circumstances changed, he could still order his disciple Zhao Qinghan to detain the Empress Dowager as leverage.

After considering all this for a week, Han Shouye felt even more confident. He secretly set the time for the uprising on the night of the grand sacrificial ceremony. He also kept one hand in reserve, leaving the tiger tally that could command fifty thousand troops with his younger brother Han Shousong, who wouldn’t accompany the trip to Mount Yao. Now they were grasshoppers on the same rope—if something went wrong, none could escape. Therefore, Han Shouye’s trust in his brother was firmer than ever before. He instructed Han Shousong that once he heard of changes at Mount Yao, he should immediately mobilize fifty thousand troops from the border defense areas to provide reinforcement, ensuring this campaign’s success without any mistakes.

Author’s Note: “If he let him escape, Han Feicong’s name should be written backwards from this day forward!”

…Hello everyone, new character: Cong Fei Han [Han Feicong’s name written backwards]