BREAKING THE PLATTER was only the first step.
Cui Buqu leapt to his feet and pointed at Chen Ji. "Do you have any idea who I am?! I'm the nephew of the king of Kucha! How dare you disrespect my wife, lusting after her right before my eyes! Today is the birthday of Duke Xing's mother, to which I was honored to be invited. I sincerely desired to congratulate Patriarch Xing, but instead I've encountered a shameless scoundrel under his roof! If this were Kucha, I would have you flogged to death!"
He made the entire speech in one breath, leaving no one time to react. Chen Ji was momentarily stupefied. All I did was ask for her name? I haven't even touched her! How am I disrespecting her? He was no pushover, but Cui Buqu's attack was too sudden. Chen Ji had no ready retort.
Their host, however, wasn't about to let them disrupt his banquet. At a pointed glance from Xing Mao, the head steward hurried forward to smooth things over. "You're both my lord's guests today; there's no need to fight. Please think of my lord's reputation—"
"My uncle often said that Duke Xing lives in Qiemo, and that he is one of the most formidable men of his generation," Cui Buqu sneered. "To think even my uncle could so misjudge someone! I represent the king of Kucha, yet I'm not even seated in the hall, forced instead to endure the blazing sun. Who would attend a banquet like this? Farewell!"
The head steward held up a placating hand and smiled. "My lord misunderstands," he said. "These arrangements were made by us lowly servants. The inner hall is too narrow, and space is limited. There isn't enough room…"
Cui Buqu cast him a sidelong glance. "Isn't that just an excuse to snub people?" he asked disdainfully. "Why not knock down the wall and merge everything into one?"
As if it was that easy? Would the house even be a house anymore?! When Cui Buqu was trying to enrage someone, his manner grew so acrimonious as to be unbearable; the head steward felt an irresistible impulse to pound his face in. But he couldn't lose his temper now; he had to keep smiling. "The lord is right to criticize the arrangement; this lowly one didn't take this into consideration. I invite the honorable couple to sit in the main hall. I shall prepare two seats at once."
He waved his hand for an attendant, who immediately came to place the seats. The head steward ushered Cui Buqu and Feng Xiao inside.
Xing Mao rose and personally walked to the center of the hall to welcome them. "I offer both of you my sincere apologies for our lack of manners. Please, drink up!"
Cui Buqu's goal from the beginning had been to infiltrate the inner hall. Now, he looked toward Duan Qihu and said loudly, "I've heard there are two great men in the city of Qiemo. One is Duke Xing, the other Duke Duan. Since I was fortunate enough to come here, I cannot miss the opportunity to sit closer to Duke Duan. You needn't trouble yourself with changing the arrangements. Just place my seat and my wife's behind Duke Duan!"
Duan Qihu laughed heartily. "To think Shang-langjun regards me so highly. There's plenty of space beside me. Why not sit together?"
Cui Buqu was overjoyed. "I'd be only too glad to!"
Usually, each guest had their own seat and table; sharing a table was a display of closeness. Cui Buqu showed no courtesy whatsoever—he tossed aside the head steward and strode over to sit beside Duan Qihu.
Upon seeing that Xing Mao had no objection, the head steward could do nothing but curse silently as he set up another table for Feng Xiao next to Cui Buqu.
In one stroke, not only had Cui Buqu and Feng Xiao secured a seat close to Duan Qihu, they were but a few steps from Xing Mao.
All that was left was the unfortunate Chen Ji, who'd suffered Cui Buqu's wrath for no reason. By the time he came to his senses, Cui Buqu had attached himself to Duan Qihu. No matter how much he wanted to flip the table in rage, it was too late; he could only glare angrily at Cui Buqu's back. The head steward, still wary of these guests creating a scene, went over to console Chen Ji. Whatever he said, Chen Ji's anger was quickly replaced with joy. He paid Cui Buqu no further heed and gladly took his seat.
The disturbance was thus settled. The head steward breathed a sigh of relief and silently grumbled to himself. The third steward had arranged today's banquet—this kind of task should have fallen to him, yet he'd disappeared to who knew where.
"I traveled to Kucha a few years back and had the honor of meeting His Majesty. Tell me, how does he fare?" Duan Qihu asked.
"My uncle has no issues eating or sleeping. He can draw his bow and shoot eagles on his horse, and off it, he can fight wolves bare-handed. He's always been strong as an ox, but two of his grandsons recently passed from illness. It broke his heart; he refused even his favorite dances and music. If not for that, he would have been the one to come to the Central Plains."
Since Cui Buqu was pretending to be the nephew of the king of Kucha, he'd done his homework in advance. Otherwise, he might have fooled Gao Yi, but he would never deceive wily old foxes like Xing Mao and Duan Qihu.
The king of Kucha really did have a nephew named Shang Jing. Because of his poor health, he'd removed to a villa outside the city at a young age and was rarely seen. For every dozen words Cui Buqu spoke, at least seven or eight were true. It was easy to trust him. Moreover, Duan Qihu and Xing Mao had both heard of the early deaths of the royal grandsons. After hearing Cui Buqu mention it too, they put aside any doubts about his identity.
Duan Qihu nodded and sighed. "Send the king my condolences and tell him this: please be at peace."
Xing Mao clapped his hands. The dishes, ready and waiting for his command, appeared in a steady stream. Jars of wine were brought up one by one, the seals cracked open before the guests. Their fragrance rose into the air—one sniff told Xing Mao's guests it was a good, aged vintage. Even those familiar with fine wines across the land couldn't help their mouths watering in anticipation.
Beautiful maids stepped up to pour wine for the guests and everyone raised their cups to congratulate the madam on her birthday. Xing Mao drank the toast and knelt before his mother, thanking her for raising him.
Duan Qihu had come in a show of goodwill today and afforded his host every courtesy. When a maid bent to pour his wine, he too raised his cup and said magnanimously, "May your fortune be as vast as the East Sea, your time as enduring as the Southern Mountains."
Just as he was about to tip his head back and drink, Cui Buqu cried, "Wait, Duke Duan!" He smiled. "Why is Duke Duan's wine jar different from mine? Is it because Duke Duan is a powerful man in Qiemo that the host's family offers him different treatment?"
It was possible to argue that Cui Buqu's outburst when he saw a man flirting with his wife outside was reasonable. But now he was making trouble for the sake of it. And when Cui Buqu exerted his troublemaking ability to the fullest, it was enough to drive anyone mad.
The head steward, for example, was beyond irritated with him. "Shang-langjun has misunderstood," he snapped. "There is deep significance to our wine jars. We have four kinds: plum blossom, orchid, bamboo, and chrysanthemum, which we store in our cellars in the spring, summer, autumn, and winter. Each of these wines has a distinct flavor, but they're equally precious and unique to our estate. Once you finish your jar, you may of course taste one of the others. There's no need to work yourself up over it!"
Professional nuisance Cui Buqu pretended not to see the irritated twist to the head steward's smile. He pointed to the cup in Duan Qihu's hand. "Duke Duan's wine must taste especially extraordinary. I wish to switch cups with Duke Duan!"
Duan Qihu laughed and handed over his cup. "Not a problem at all. I'll give you this cup, and someone can fetch me another!"
Xing Mao furrowed his brow, displeasure simmering in him. But in the end, he said nothing. Cui Buqu had dared to repeatedly disrupt his mother's birthday banquet, and Xing Mao had a hundred ways to make him regret it later.
But when Cui Buqu received Duan Qihu's cup, he didn't simply accept it. He handed it to the lovely maid who'd just poured for Duan Qihu.
"Here, you drink it!"
The maid froze, then quickly backed up a few steps and cast a pleading glance toward the steward, who had endured just about enough of this menace. He warned him, still smiling, "Shang-langjun, today is my lord's mother's birthday banquet. Please show some restraint."
Cui Buqu's brows rose in mock surprise. "How am I not restrained? Everyone knows Duke Duan and Duke Xing are rivals. Who's to say some scoundrel wouldn't try to sow discord by poisoning Duke Duan then framing the Xing family? I'm merely taking precautions that will clear Duke Xing of suspicion, aren't I?"
The steward had reached the end of his rope. He stepped forward and made to grab Cui Buqu's shoulder. "You little pest, you're not here to attend the banquet. You came to pick a fight!"
This man was Xing Mao's closest confidant in addition to being his highest-ranking and most trusted subordinate; he was a strong martial artist. His strike was as swift as lightning. Even if Cui Buqu had been trained in martial arts, he might not have been able to dodge—but of course, he didn't know any at all.
Yet before the steward could make him scream in pain and scare him out of spewing more nonsense, someone else gripped his hand, arresting his movements with the pinch of a mere forefinger and thumb.
The head steward swallowed down agony and looked over his shoulder. Feng Xiao smiled at him shyly. That smile sent a tremor through the head steward's body. He instantly lost any ability to retaliate.
Ignoring the head steward, Cui Buqu pushed the cup toward the maid. "Once you've drunk this cup of wine, I shan't bother you anymore, nor cause any further trouble for Duke Xing."
The maid looked at the ground, utterly still. By now, Duan Qihu too had noticed something was wrong.
Xing Mao was furious at the meddling Cui Buqu, but what enraged him more was losing face in front of Duan Qihu. The courtyard was festive yet, but guests in the inner hall had stopped drinking to look over at the commotion. The atmosphere had turned awkward. He barked out, "Since Shang-langjun says so, just drink it!"
Now that Xing Mao had spoken, the maid had no choice but to take the wine from Cui Buqu. But it seemed she'd been scared silly—her hand trembled as she held it, spilling wine everywhere.
Cui Buqu grabbed her wrist and pressed the cup to her mouth. "Don't be afraid," he said gently. "It's only a little wine. What are you so scared of? You act like it's poisoned."
Just as the wine was about to tip into her mouth, the maid broke free of Cui Buqu and turned to pounce on Duan Qihu. Light flashed—a dagger, hidden until now, leapt to her hand, the sharp point headed straight for Duan Qihu's chest.
Duan Qihu launched into the air like a great eagle spreading its wings in flight. Not only did he avoid the maid's fatal strike, he kicked her wrist as he landed, turning the dagger away. As she stumbled and fell forward over the low table, the dagger in her own hand pierced her chest and killed her on the spot.
Screams split the air. The once-lively banquet was transformed as everyone's faces paled with fear. The guests in the inner hall stood and backed away, one after another.
Xing Mao pointed at Cui Buqu and Feng Xiao as he raged, "Guards, seize them!"
Cui Buqu sneered. "What good is capturing me? Yesterday, I saw your third steward on the street, conspiring with someone to kill Duan Qihu. Why else would I make trouble at the banquet? And it's just as I feared!"
"Xing Mao." Duan Qihu's face was like a thundercloud. "I came here in good faith, yet you greeted me with a Hongmen banquet!"2 The two guards he'd brought adopted protective stances, as though really afraid Xing Mao might attack at any moment.
"I knew nothing of this!" Xing Mao was furious. If Duan Qihu died here today, jumping into the Yellow River wouldn't be enough to wash himself clean of blame. Who but Xing Mao would want him dead? But if Xing Mao truly wanted to kill him, even sending a woman to seduce and poison him would be more effective than this crude method. Not to mention, today was his mother's birthday, and he was famously filial toward her. How could he kill a man in front of his own mother?
But things had already come to this point. No matter who wanted to kill Duan Qihu, if he died, his influence would be absorbed by Xing Mao. Without their patriarch, the Duan family would be an eagle with broken wings. In fact, perhaps he should finish what someone else had started…
As his thoughts turned, the darkness in his eyes deepened like a tempest brewing. Xing Mao's three stewards had been with him for many years and were familiar with their master's ways. Feng Xiao had obstructed the head steward, but the second steward was standing by. With a silent wave of his hand, the guards of the Xing residence gathered to surround the inner hall. The instant their master gave the command, they'd rush forward and slay Duan Qihu. No matter how skilled the former bandit was, he couldn't possibly escape this watertight blockade.
Shit, thought Duan Qihu.
He'd attended today's banquet because he was sure Xing Mao would never act against him there. Who could have guessed he'd find himself in such dire straits? Whether or not Xing Mao was responsible for the poisoned wine no longer mattered. Duan Qihu, too, could see the murderous intent in Xing Mao's eyes.
Was he finally going to his grave, here and now?
Still in Feng Xiao's grasp, the head steward finally couldn't take the pain. He shrieked in agony.
Feng Xiao smiled. "It seems I've been too rough. But since you're the one who tried to attack my husband, I'm afraid you'll have to endure it!"
The head steward collapsed to the ground, motionless. Feng Xiao's figure flickered, and the second steward felt a wind rushing toward him. His heart thumped as he threw out a strike, meeting the enemy head-on. Their palms slammed against each other. The second steward tasted salty-sweetness surging up his throat—he coughed blood and collapsed backward.
In contrast, Feng Xiao was completely unscathed. He turned to Xing Mao. "You see? Even if all your men come at me together, I'll walk out of here without a scratch. Perhaps I'll even bring Duan Qihu with me."
When had such an unparalleled martial artist arrived in tiny Qiemo? The man who claimed to be the nephew of the king of Kucha was as weak as a kitten, yet his wife was hiding such incredible abilities.
Duan Qihu considered himself skilled, but saw immediately that he was outmatched. He knew of Fo'er, the foremost expert of the Göktürk Khaganate, yet thought even he might not have been able to defeat this woman.
Who were these people?
Xing Mao was enraged. "Who the hell are you?!"
"A beauty, naturally." Feng Xiao produced a handkerchief and wiped his hands, then twirled his fingers in a delicate flourish. The handkerchief fluttered through the air and landed precisely atop of the steward's head.
The man was speechless.
"Rather than worrying about us," Cui Buqu said indifferently, "perhaps you should be more concerned with the traitor in your household. Duan Qihu has two sons, and his eldest is grown. Should Duan Qihu perish here today, that son will inherit everything and avenge his father. The two of you will be at open war. Even if you win, it will be a costly victory. Remember the tale of the sandpiper and the clam. Who is the fisherman who'll profit from their squabbling and reap them both?"
This thought had occurred to Duan Qihu as well. While he was still suspicious of Xing Mao, he had some reservations.
Xing Mao's face flashed through a host of emotions, but when he finally spoke, it was decisive: "Bring me Peng Xiang, now! If he resists, do whatever you need to get him here! Only make sure he can still speak!"
The head steward's wrist had been crushed by Feng Xiao, but in the face of the storm tearing through the residence, his injury was nothing. He struggled painfully upright and dashed off to find the third steward.
The birthday banquet had become a battlefield. Xing Mao took a deep breath and quashed his frustration. He first ordered an attendant to escort his mother away to rest, then addressed the other guests: "This incident has been most unfortunate; everyone has had a shock. I owe you all my deepest apologies once the culprit is found. For now, please remain seated and enjoy the food and wine."
As if anyone was in the mood to eat. All they could do was sit and wait. There was no chance anyone would be allowed to leave the Xing residence before this matter was resolved.
Xing Mao was reluctant to believe his own steward had betrayed him, but all signs pointed to the man. The arrangements for the banquet had been entirely in the third steward's hands. He couldn't escape responsibility.
Yet, as it often happens, this situation was thornier than it first appeared.
A short time later, the head steward came dashing back. Although he'd run the whole way, his face was paler than before.
Xing Mao knew at once that something had again gone wrong. Sure enough, the head steward gasped out: "Peng Xiang, he… He hung himself to avoid punishment!"