Rising Phoenix

After a pause, Yao Yangyu spoke once again: “Vice President Wei, have you forgotten? Why are you here?”

Feng Zhiwei cocked a brow and smiled. “Have we met before? I have forgotten many things, and I am here because of fate. I’m sure I’ll have questions for you later, but right now there is a more urgent matter — you are His Highness Prince An? I’ve heard much tell of your name; it is nice to finally put a face to the stories.”

Jin Siyu had remounted and gazed across the battlefield at the composed young man. Nowhere was safe in war, and there were few competent figures who would act as casually as this new figure. The same twists and turns that had hid his men now hid his enemy’s forces, and Jin Siyu had no idea how many soldiers were marching towards him.

When his scouts reported that Yao Yangyu was marching out to suppress bandits, Jin Siyu had guessed that Yao Yangyu’s true target was Qi County. He had immediately arranged for a trap to capture the three young masters, setting out with a small contingent to escape notice, not even alerting the troops in Qiao County. The prince brought only enough men to securely capture the three hostages and convey them back to Da Yue’s Camp as quickly as possible, but now an unexpected development had occurred.

Qianji Ditch had peculiar terrain. To the East and West, the land gradually widened and many cliffs blocked the western stretch. No cavalry charge could make it over those cliffs, but Jin Siyu could not be sure about the enemy numbers. Any fight would be against unknown odds.

The prince examined the young horsemen’s composed face and calm breath and his mind blared with doubt and suspicion.

The man’s timely appearance was truly too strange.

Neither early nor late, just as the hostages had been about to commit suicide… just as he himself had been startled by the young masters’ courage, dashing forward without care. The young man’s attack had almost killed him, and as a result he had lost his hostages and his horse.

Was it just coincidence, or had the man timed it?

A lucky coincidence was nothing, but if he had purposefully arranged for that exchange, this young man was terrifying. Clearly Yao Yangyu and the others were familiar with him, but the mysterious man had coldly waited as Yao Yangyu’s men were cut down, only striking moments before their deaths.

Jin Siyu stared at the smiling young man, and then he suddenly noticed that his captured horse had disappeared.

Anxiety rose within him — he had not been so unsettled since he had killed the previous Supreme Commander and taken charge over the Da Yue armies.

His horse was too important.

Capturing enemy horses was a common occurrence on the battlefield, but Jin Siyu’s steed was no regular warhorse. His was a mighty Yue Horse, considered extremely rare even in the rich lands of Tian Sheng. Every Da Yue prince raised a Yue Horse from their youth and trained with them all their life, cultivating a strong connection and familiarity. Such a horse was irreplaceable.

The Da Yue people held the powerful Yue Horses in almost spiritual esteem. Such a horse could save their rider in battle, and often such a deep connection to this horse was more useful than a hundred guards.

That year, he had used a horse of this breed to plant doubts between the Tian Sheng Emperor and his Third Son, forcing the Third Prince into rebellion that ended in the man’s tragic death at Dijing’s Wang Du Bridge. Now ten years later, fate had turned and his own horse was now captured. Even if it were just a coincidence and another necessary casualty of war, his heart was deeply unsettled.

It would have been better if his horse had died rather than be captured, especially in an ambush he had set for the enemy. Once news of this spread, he would lose a lot of face.

And the young man had not even shot a single arrow…

Jin Siyu’s eyes gleamed, killing intent whirling in the pools of his eyes.

No matter what, he could allow this to be the end!

He lifted his arms, an order on his lips, when suddenly horse hoofs clattered behind him.

A harried messenger galloped forward, whipping his horse until it frothed from the mouth. The man cried out: “General! It’s bad! The Eastern Army’s military grain…”

“Cha!”

The voice died, the messenger stared in wide-eyed astonishment after his hundred-mile gallop, his throat gurgling as his gaze slipped from the cold eyes of Jin Siyu.

The soldier clutch at his throat before toppling from his horse, a bloody throwing arrow wrapped in powerless fingers.

The corpse thudded to the ground as Jin Siyu slowly swept his eyes over his men. The soldiers turned from the dead messenger, shivering and looking away as they met Jin Siyu’s eyes.

A quiet smile gleamed in Feng Zhiwei’s eyes.

Such fast reactions, Prince An.

He had guessed at the message before the messenger could finish speaking — the Eastern Armies military grain had been burnt. Before the messenger could confirm his suspicions and devastate his men’s morale, he executed the man.

Torches fluttered in the wind, and the dark cliffs loomed around them like lurking beasts. Half of Jin Siyu’s face was hidden in the night, obscuring his expressions. Finally, the man lifted his horsewhip, pointing at Feng Zhiwei.

The horsewhip curved at the end of his straight arm like a venomous snake eyeing the black robed young man.

Feng Zhiwei smiled, gesturing for the prince to make a move.

Jin Siyu glared before turning his horse away and riding away.

Shadows shifted along the road as the Da Yue men swiftly turned in orderly retreat.

Feng Zhiwei watched with narrowed eyes, a few hints of praise in her gaze. A general’s ability was measured not only by how his men fought, but also by how they retreated; such an orderly and disciplined retreat in this strange situation showed the prince’s control over his subordinates.

When the Da Yue army disappeared, Feng Zhiwei called for Zong Chen to come forward and tend to Yao Yangyu and the others. With the battle over, Yao Yangyu stared blankly at his soldiers, all of them dead.

He walked amongst their corpses, bending down and straightening each of the twisted bodies, his sad face shifting between moonlight and shadow as he moved through the bloody grass.

Feng Zhiwei never moved from her horse as she quietly watched Yao Yangyu.

Yu Liang and Huang Baozi silently followed their friend, stepping forward and grabbing his arm. “Yangyu…”

“They didn’t need to die.” Yao Yangyu replied hoarsely.

Yu Liang was just about to comfort him when Yao Yangyu continued, whispering:

“Master Wei must have waited until we decided to commit suicide… before he made his move.”