Chương 122: Book 2 Chapter 36: Underneath

"Fifty years ago, the only reason the Lion General, Shi Wanjun, managed to defeat the Tiger General was because of my cousin's support. My father's recent… death certainly played a part, but that alone should not have been enough. Chengxuan arranged matters so that General Tang Huwei was nearly killed, while the Tiger Army officials who opposed his rise were banished to the lower levels. And all of it became possible because of a gift he gave Shi Wanjun."

Trailing behind the princess as she explained, Mo Jian and Bai Ning exchanged a glance. A step behind them, Shen Jinglan kept her head lowered, though every so often she stole wary looks at the pair from the corner of her eye. By now, she had already attempted to secretly communicate with Xiang Muxue twice, and both times, Mo Jian and Bai Ning had pretended not to notice the messages.

"…can't be trusted. It's too dangerous. We should…"

"… the general is always uncouth. I can lead them there, and you should verify…" Mo Jian suspected Xiang Muxue was fully aware that the two of them had overheard the transmissions – inevitable, given the vast gulf between Shen Jinglan and their cultivation realms – but was allowing it for her own reasons. He wasn't offended. Shen Jinglan's distrust was only natural, especially after what he and Bai Ning had done. If anything, he found it faintly amusing.

The last time they had met, the girl had been so terrified of him that she could barely speak without squeaking in panic. Now, because she was worried for the princess, she was actually daring to sneak messages past a Nascent Soul cultivator. Still, he had more pressing concerns.

"What sort of gift could let one general overwhelm another so completely?" he asked.

"Some heaven defying natural treasure?" Ahead of them, Muxue scoffed.

"Hardly something natural, no," she replied.

"That said, the imperial treasury is practically overflowing with powerful treasures, most of which were created by my grandfather. Even a roadside pebble picked up by an immortal can become many times more valuable than the greatest treasure forged by a Nascent Soul expert, so is it really surprising? In fact, each of the Four Great Generals possesses one of these treasures, though they are tied to their offices and forbidden from being used during the centennial rankings." She paused before continuing.

"However, Chengxuan somehow managed to seize one of the treasury's treasures for himself. Because of that, the Lion General was able to decisively defeat the Tiger General."

"The trash of a higher realm cultivator is the treasure of a lower realm one…" Bai Ning muttered under her breath. Xiang Muxue turned back briefly and flashed her a smile.

"Exactly. Though calling grandfather's creations 'trash' would be inaccurate. These treasures cannot be removed from the treasury or used without the reigning emperor's permission, so seeing one in action is exceedingly rare. I still have no idea how Chengxuan managed to get his hands on one, bbut as long as Shi Wanjun possesses it, he is effectively untouchable to anyone who lacks something capable of leveling the playing field." Mo Jian swept a hand impatiently through the air.

"If we can stop dancing around the subject," he said, a little irritably, "what exactly is this treasure? And is it the thing you want me to steal?" The corridor they walked through was deserted. Rich wooden paneling lined the walls, interrupted every few paces by embroidered paintings, all of them respectfully still (Mo Jian assumed that was intentional; the artworks on this level seemed considerably more cultured than those adorning the second floor).

Above, the ceiling formed a vast mosaic, its patterns flowing in an endless wave of color and shifting imagery. Grand, certainly, though not unusual for even the second floor of the palace. They could speak openly only because the princess had used her Truth Tolling Bell to "conceal the truth of their conversation". Mo Jian remained somewhat skeptical, even so, but he also remembered how completely she had slipped past his spiritual senses earlier, and that memory was enough to keep him from voicing any doubts.

Ahead, Xiang Muxue nodded, though from behind, he could only see the gentle sway of her hair.

"Yes," she said.

"The Black Sulde." Her tone turned more measured.

"I do not know how much you've heard about my grandfather's interactions with the first Khan nearly three thousand years ago, but the Sulde was personally crafted by him as an immortal artifact and gifted to Jenghiz as a symbol of their friendship. Even aside from its own extraordinary abilities, the standard eventually came to carry immense political significance. Later Yuan rulers treated possession of it almost as synonymous with possession of the throne itself." For a moment, her gaze seemed to drift.

"And when it was lost nearly two thousand years ago, the consequences were catastrophic. The Yuan fractured into competing hordes, and no ruler since has ever wielded authority equal to Jenghiz Khan or his direct heirs." Mo Jian listened with a raised eyebrow.

"I was under the impression the relationship between the Empire and the Yuan had always been hostile," he said.

"I've never heard any records claiming the Immortal Emperor supported the first Khan. Usually, it's portrayed as the exact opposite." Xiang Muxue glanced back at him with a wry smile.

"That is because most outside records are little more than court sponsored propaganda," she replied.

"Over the centuries, the actual details were gradually buried beneath political convenience, everywhere outside the palace, at least." She folded her hands behind her back as she continued walking.

"But no, the Yuan were a problem from the very beginning. When Jenghiz first began uniting the tribes and forging a true civilization out of the wild steppes, grandfather was cautiously optimistic. In fact, after personally repelling the first Yuan invasion, he and the first Khan developed a sort of friendship born from mutual respect."

"It was because of that respect that he gifted the Black Sulde to him. He hoped it would forge lasting ties between our empires." Her lips curled faintly in amusement.

"As history demonstrates, that hope failed rather spectacularly."

"After Kublai's death, the Great Horde splintered into countless factions led by Batu Khan, Chinggis Khan, Judaai Khan, and dozens of lesser claimants. Over the centuries, that fragmentation only worsened. Now there are four major hordes and more than eleven minor ones scattered across the world, from the White Wastes and the Sable Sea all the way to the Great Wall." Bai Ning looked utterly fascinated, and Mo Jian had to suppress his own curiosity as well.

This was history unlike anything he had ever been taught, delivered by someone whose education had undoubtedly been far more comprehensive than his own - or rather, the original Mo Jian's. Still, they were drifting off topic.

"History aside," he said, "what exactly does the Black Sulde do? And how does stealing it help us?"

"Right, of course." Muxue coughed lightly into her hand, looking faintly embarrassed. Had she gotten carried away telling the story? Was… was the princess actually a history enthusiast? Yes, Ye Chen definitely had a type.

"You know how the Yuan cultivate, of course?" she asked. Without waiting for a reply, she continued.

"They practice beast cultivation, largely because of the corpse of the immortal qilin lying beneath the steppes and the way its power seeped into the land over countless centuries. Their techniques allow them to transform into chimeric fusions of dragon, horse, and human, granting them their legendary mobility and their ability to fight effectively in massive hordes." Her expression grew more serious.

"They possess very few Nascent Soul cultivators – the Khans – but as a collective force, they are capable of matching even imperial armies on equal ground." Mo Jian and Bai Ning both nodded. This part, at least, was common knowledge. Behind them, Shen Jinglan attempted yet another covert transmission.

"…should stay alert, not the time for a history lesson…" Once again, they politely pretended not to hear it.

"The Sulde," Xiang Muxue continued, "allows its wielder to temporarily step half a realm beyond their current cultivation." Her voice lowered slightly.

"For an early stage Nascent Soul cultivator, it is equivalent to entering the middle stage. For someone in the middle stage, it is like reaching the late stage. And for a late stage Nascent Soul cultivator…" She glanced at them meaningfully.

"As Jenghiz himself was when grandfather gifted him the standard, it allowed him to stand halfway within the Immortal Ascension realm."

"The Sulde made the first Khan almost godlike among mortals. Though," she added dryly, "still nowhere near a true immortal." Mo Jian sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, stunned. That was no ordinary treasure. It was a kingly artifact, something capable of elevating a cultivator into the threshold of the next realm itself. Why had the book never mentioned it? Beside him, Bai Ning's eyes sparkled brightly.

"We have to steal it," she declared immediately.

"A treasure like that would be incredibly useful." The princess shook her head.

"We cannot use it ourselves," she said firmly.

"The reason I asked whether you could steal it is because if Chengxuan tries to trap us the way I suspect in the future, then taking the Sulde away from Shi Wanjun will become extremely valuable. But even if we obtain it, it must remain hidden." Her gaze hardened.

"The court would never permit an immortal grade artifact to remain outside imperial control. Right now, merely stealing it serves several purposes at once." If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Their conversation fell silent as the corridor widened into a vast hall. Unlike the passageways before, this place was not deserted.

Though still less crowded than the busier intersections on the second floor, cultivators and servants crossed through it in a constant trickle, moving briskly between destinations. Most were beneath the Nascent Soul realm, which, on reflection, made sense. The four of them moved through the crowd toward a broad passage that led deeper into the palace. As they walked, Mo Jian noticed something strange. No one greeted the princess.

A middle-aged cultivator in red brocade robes drifted past atop a flying carpet, pointedly turning his face away the moment he noticed Xiang Muxue. A servant girl nearly jumped out of her skin upon seeing the princess, then hurriedly lowered her head and refused to look up again until they had passed. A cluster of noblewomen in ornate palace attire walked by laughing behind silk fans, only to sneer openly as they crossed paths with her. It was as though the entire hall looked down on her.

Xiang Muxue ignored it all completely. Even so, Mo Jian and Bai Ning exchanged another glance from the corners of their eyes. Behind them, Shen Jinglan kept her gaze fixed on the floor, not daring to look at anyone directly, but the anger radiating from her was impossible to miss. As soon as they cleared the hall and entered the next corridor, Mo Jian hurriedly searched for something else to focus on. Fortunately, he still had questions.

"Does the Lion General live on the twenty first floor as well?" he asked.

"I would've thought he'd stay closer to Prince Chengxuan." Ahead of him, Muxue snorted softly.

"No. He remains on this floor." A trace of irony entered her voice.

"And amusingly enough, that's because of me-""Which is exactly why we shouldn't be going to him!" Shen Jinglan burst out at last, unable to remain silent any longer. The sudden shout echoed through the corridor. The four of them stopped. Muxue turned back toward her attendant while Mo Jian and Bai Ning immediately attempted their best impressions of becoming part of the wall.

"It's already bad enough that we're cooperating with them," Shen Jinglan snapped, waving angrily toward the two cultivators who were very studiously pretending not to exist.

"But that cretin Shi Wanjun is always so – so disrespectful toward you. I can lead them to him myself, my lady. There's no reason for you to go personally."

"Jing," Muxue said gently, "you know how grateful I am for everything you do for me." Then her expression firmed.

"But this is a risk I need to take. If the General isn't inside the Grand Simha Hall, then my presence may draw him out for another round of gloating." A faint smile tugged at her lips.

"I'm not acting blindly." She held Shen Jinglan's gaze a moment, then turned and resumed walking. Her attendant followed, reluctantly, every line of her bearing radiating dissent. Two other figures kept pace alongside them, doing their best to appear so unremarkable, so forgettable, that they nearly dissolved into the background entirely.

"As I was saying," Muxue continued as though the interruption had never happened, "Shi Wanjun resides on this level. He maintains an entire harem of concubines, so determining exactly where he spends each night is difficult." She glanced back at them, her expression almost conspiratorial.

"He keeps trying to convince me to join it. Chengxuan likely finds the entire situation amusing, which is why Shi Wanjun remains stationed here." Her gaze settled on Mo Jian.

"Seeing him once should be enough for you, correct?" Mo Jian nodded slowly, carefully suppressing the thoughts threatening to show on his face. Xiang Muxue's situation was even worse than he had imagined, and though she wore the expression of someone entirely unbothered, he suspected there was molten fury buried beneath the surface. Beside him, Bai Ning seemed to sense the same thing.

"Is Xiang Chengxuan really that petty?" she asked, frowning.

"And Shi Wanjun as well. What exactly do they gain from tormenting you like this?" Muxue flashed them a faint, crooked smile before facing forward again.

"My cousin is extraordinarily intelligent," she said.

"He almost always chooses the most rational path available to him. But he is also cruel." Her tone remained calm, matter-of-fact.

"And when presented with two equally beneficial choices, if one allows him to make someone else miserable, he will choose that one every time."

"It would be wrong to call him predictable," she continued, "because he isn't. But if he can indulge in another person's suffering without sacrificing anything himself, he tends to do exactly that." Before either Mo Jian or Bai Ning could respond, she added: "It is also part of why we are targeting the Lion General and the Black Sulde. Not only does it satisfy your condition that the target be irredeemable, but…

given what I know of Chengxuan, how soon he is likely to grow suspicious of me, and the recent reports of Yuan agitation along the borders…" Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"There is a chance he may react exactly as I expect."

"And even if he doesn't," she said quietly, "the outcome still benefits us." She trailed off before finishing the thought, because they had arrived. The corridor ahead terminated at a single enormous gate. A snarling lion had been emblazoned across its surface in gold leaf and vermilion lacquer, its bared fangs seeming almost alive beneath the light. Two armored guards stood motionless on either side of the entrance, halberds gleaming brilliant white gold in their hands.

As they approached, Mo Jian noticed the guards' helmets had been forged in the shape of roaring lions, with metallic manes sweeping backward from the visors, curving down into heavy pauldrons that shielded their shoulders like folded jaws. Muxue stopped before them, one hand settling on her hip as she lazily gestured toward the gate.

"Is the General inside?" The guards exchanged amused looks. The one nearest them openly dragged his gaze over the princess from head to toe, lingering long enough to make the insult deliberate.

"Have you finally decided to accept the General's magnanimity, Princess?" he asked with a grin.

"He's currently insi-""No need," Muxue interrupted flatly. Disgust flickered openly across her face.

"If he's inside, then I have no intention of going any further." She turned immediately, gesturing for the others to follow.

"Let's go." As the guards sneered behind them, Mo Jian seized the opportunity. The Heaven Enshrouding Ding slipped silently from his sleeve. With the Netherworld Scorpion concealed inside its handle, the small cauldron had become ghostly and indistinct, impossible to perceive. It drifted soundlessly through the massive gates, passing through wood and metal like mist. Mo Jian split his attention carefully between walking beside the others and maintaining awareness through the Netherworld Scorpion's senses.

The hall beyond was enormous. At first glance, it resembled a military mess hall, but on a scale befitting an army lord rather than ordinary soldiers. The chamber stretched so far into the distance that the far wall vanished into haze and lantern smoke. Thick cedar pillars lined both sides of the room, each carved with scenes of lions hunting beneath blazing suns. Massive braziers burned between them, filling the hall with rolling heat and the rich scent of roasted meat, spices, oil, and wine.

Long ironwood tables stretched from one end of the chamber to the other in ordered rows. Hundreds of armored men and women occupied them. Some devoured mountains of food with the appetite of body cultivators fresh from a bout of cultivation; others drank heavily while arguing loudly over campaigns, techniques, and wagers. Laughter erupted constantly throughout the hall, rough and unrestrained.

The clatter of bowls, cups, and weapons blended into a single living noise; the sound of soldiers entirely at ease among their own. Unlike the tense, restrained atmosphere of the palace outside, this place felt alive. Servants hurried between the tables carrying steaming platters piled high with spirit beast meat and fragrant rice. A pair of cultivators arm wrestled hard enough to crack the table between them while their comrades roared encouragement.

One scarred veteran stood atop a bench midway through recounting some story involving a severed demon head and three missing fingers. The floating ding drifted onward through the haze. It took nearly half an hour to find Shi Wanjun, not because the man was difficult to identify, but because the hall itself was simply that vast. When Mo Jian finally saw him, however, there was no mistaking who commanded the Lion Army. Shi Wanjun sat near the center of the hall like a king holding court.

Dozens of commanders and veteran officers surrounded him, yet even among so many powerful cultivators, he dominated the scene effortlessly. The Lion General was extraordinarily tall. Even seated, he towered over most of the people around him. His armor was lacquered gold and crimson, the plates engraved with roaring lions and streaks of stylized flame. Unlike the standard issue armor worn by his soldiers, every piece of his equipment radiated the faint pressure of powerful spiritual treasures.

A thick fur mantle hung from his shoulders, made from the pelt of some enormous spirit beast whose golden mane spilled down his back like fire. His face was harshly handsome. Heavy brows shadowed sharp amber eyes, while a jagged scar cut across one side of his jaw and vanished into his beard. His black hair was tied high in a warrior's tail. Upon his head rested a living lion helm. It was not an ornament, but a construct of condensed spirit.

The golden beast crouched over his skull like a crown, translucent yet solid, its molten mane shifting with every subtle movement. Its eyes glowed like banked embers, and every so often its jaws parted in a silent, threatening snarl. Even through the ding, Mo Jian could feel the pressure radiating from the man. Late Nascent Soul stage. The Heaven Enshrouding Ding drifted forward soundlessly, settling near the general's shoulder like a ghost that belonged there.

Outside, Mo Jian kept walking, increasing the distance without breaking stride. A faint unease lingered at the edge of his thoughts, the sensation of leaving his natal artifact behind, exposed and remote, but it couldn't be helped. The scorpion alone would not have been enough for this. Not tonight. He steadied his expression and continued on. …………………………………………………………

The next morning, the Lion General did not emerge from the chambers of the concubine (named Shiyue, amusingly enough) he had chosen to spend the night with. His personal guards went to rouse him, but were met halfway by the sound of screaming and a flurry of voice transmission talismans streaking out of the room like startled birds. They flew forward in a rush, only to find the concubine in distress and the chamber in disarray. The Lion General was gone.

He was not merely absent, but somehow utterly vanished, with no trace of his presence anywhere. Only his favored helm remained behind in her rooms, and he was not a man who went anywhere without it. The guards attempted to contact him… and failed. Within the hour, a manhunt was underway, and word had begun to seep beyond the inner palace. The Lion General, Shi Wanjun, was missing. Even so, the reaction remained oddly restrained.

He was a late Nascent Soul cultivator, renowned for his combat prowess, and thus, far too strong to be easily slain. Most assumed something nefarious, but in the manner of court intrigues: an entangling scheme, a forced disappearance, a delay that would resolve itself once the politics untwisted. Half the floor away, Mo Jian finally exhaled in relief as the Heaven Enshrouding Ding slipped through the walls of Xiang Muxue's palatial room and settled into his waiting hand.

Maintaining its ghostly form for so long had been grueling; a dull, grinding migraine throbbed behind his eyes as proof of the effort. However, it was done. The lid of the ding slid open, and the others crowded in a little closer to see what was inside. Nothing. The ding was empty, its mirrored interior silvery and perfect, save for a single black storage pouch resting in one curved corner. A golden lion's pawprint was stamped into its side. Bai Ning smiled openly.

The princess, by contrast, looked briefly unmoored, just for a heartbeat, as though she had not been entirely certain it would work, and was only now catching up to the fact that it had. But she recovered quickly.

"To the first floor," she said, tearing her gaze from the pouch.

"Quickly, now. This is our best chance to reach General Tang. It's time to go start a war."