Chapter 7: The Tiger Wing Is Crippled
Part I: The Feast of Poison and the Fall of a Duke
The night was like a pool of ink, heavy and oppressive, settling over the gilded eaves of the Tiger Wing Palace. Inside, however, was a grotesque revelry. Torches blazed, illuminating figures entangled in the exchange of wine cups and crude jokes. The stench of fermented wine and greasy, roasted meat almost solidified, fogging the mind.
The young National Lord Wu Lie, seated at the head table, was already deep in his cups. His face was flushed crimson, his eyes burning with the fire of self-satisfaction. He violently raised his golden goblet, his boorish laughter shaking the very beams.
"Tonight marks this Lord's triumph! Having acquired this beauty bestowed by Heaven, let us see who dares to look down upon me hereafter!"
The Frostbreath Chronicles notes: "Wu Lie was impetuous and shallow in counsel. On the day Xi Min presented the beauty, he unknowingly dug his own grave."
No sooner had the words left his lips than the foreign courtesan, a 'Hu Ji,' gracefully emerged from behind the screen. Her plain, unadorned gown highlighted her exotic features, making her beauty even more breathtaking. She walked with perfect poise, as if stepping on an invisible chessboard, the jade cup on her tray utterly still. Reaching Wu Lie's seat, she curtsied slightly, her voice as gentle as spring water:
"This concubine offers a cup to the National Lord. May this wine… ease the Lord's worries."
Later historians annotated: How ironic were those two words, "worries." Wu Lie's worry was the restraint of his powerful ministers; Xi Min's scheme lay precisely in this cup of poison.
In the shadow, Xi Min stood with his hands clasped, his knuckles white from the tension. He stared intently at the wine, his breath nearly suspended. The clamor of the entire hall seemed to recede, leaving only the frantic drumming of his own heart.
Wu Lie roared with laughter and tore the veil from the courtesan's face. That flawless beauty was exposed in the torchlight, instantly unleashing a flash of avarice in his eyes. Without hesitation, he threw his head back and drained the cup.
The Arcana records: "The wine was a deep, bloody crimson, named 'Scarlet Glow'—a rare poison from the Western Marches. It was smooth upon the throat but sealed it within moments."
Mere breaths after the liquor went down, Wu Lie's face seized up—the ruddy flush of intoxication violently transforming into a shocking, purplish bloat. Veins stood out on his neck like writhing dragons. He clawed desperately at his throat, trying to scream, but only a "hoarse, rattling sound" escaped. The golden cup slipped from his grasp and shattered on the polished floor tiles. The crisp sound of its breaking tolled like a death knell.
His eyes bulged. He fixed them upon the courtesan, who still stood demurely, eyes filled with disbelief, fury, and torment. His body convulsed violently. Finally, that magnificent gold-armored frame crashed heavily to the ground, the muffled sound echoing through the abruptly dead-silent hall.
The Imperial Scribe commented: "Wu Lie's death was not due to lust, but to hubris and ignorance. He dismissed the loyal and embraced the treacherous. How could his dominion not fall?"
The courtesan watched it all in silence, as if she had just served a commonplace drink. She gently placed the tray down, her posture submissive, creating an eerie contrast with the scene of blood and sudden demise.
Only then did Xi Min draw a deep breath of the air, now mingling with the scent of wine, meat, and death. He stepped forward. His gaze fell upon the still-warm corpse on the ground. His voice was steady, betraying no ripple of emotion:
"My Lord… may you rest in peace."
The candlelight in the hall continued to crackle, reflecting in every bowed face. No one cried out, no one stirred; there was only a deathly stillness. The minister Xi Min had long since established an iron grip over the Tiger Wing Duchy. From the day National Chancellor Li Junce was personally exiled by Wu Lie, the outcome of this night's feast had been sealed.
Old Tales of the Tiger Wing Duchy lamented: "With Li Junce gone, the Duchy had no loyal backbone. With Xi Min in power, all were complicit in the treason. Wu Lie destroyed his own Great Wall, resulting in his death and the chaos of his state. Was this not a self-inflicted doom?"
The National Lord of Tiger Wing ultimately perished within the warm, fragrant feast he believed he controlled. The cause of death appeared absurd, yet it was destined to leave a cautionary mark upon the chaotic annals of the Empire.
The Frostbreath Chronicles: An Examination of the Regicide in the Tiger Wing Duchy
Xi Min was renowned as an eminent minister of the Tiger Wing Duchy. Talented in his youth, he was celebrated across the court for his upright character and willingness to speak truth to power. Yet, the entirety of his life's reputation rested upon the foreign survivor, the Hu Ji. Latter-day scholars never failed to lament his fate.
According to Old Tales of the Tiger Wing Duchy, Duke Wu Lie, succeeding to the title at a young age, was valiant yet volatile. At that time, the Duke's veteran minister, Bo ersun, had recently passed. His widow, the Hu Ji, possessed an extraordinary beauty, hailing from the Western Marches, her allure a quietly known secret. Wu Lie, upon hearing of her, became deeply infatuated.
However, historical records show that when Xi Min first learned of this, he vehemently remonstrated before Wu Lie, citing that "the mourning period is incomplete, and such an act violates the rites and laws." His words were sincere, his integrity commanding, earning the respect of the entire court for his rigid rectitude. This was the most luminous period of his career, and also the harbinger of his descent.
Unconfirmed histories suggest that Xi Min's initial counsel stemmed from public duty. Yet, later, perhaps during official duties, he encountered the Hu Ji's true countenance, and his resolve broke. The precise shift in his state of mind is unknowable, but a passage in $The Anecdotal Records offers a provocative glimpse:
It is said Min once secretly remarked: "This jade should be paired with a gentleman. How can a brute shatter it?"
If this account holds truth, a subtle, usurpatory ambition had long been hidden in his heart, cloaking his personal desire as an appreciation for a kindred spirit.
What followed accelerated sharply. Xi Min, preceding his own Lord, openly took the Hu Ji into his residence, treating her with lavish deference. Wu Lie, upon learning this, lost all face and erupted in fury, intending to raise an army to punish him. The National Lord's brother-in-law, National Chancellor Li Junce, perceived the murderous intent and earnestly pleaded: "To invite strife between Lord and minister over one woman is the path to calamity!"
In his blinding rage, Wu Lie dismissed Li Junce. Seeing the situation irretrievable, Li Junce fled under the cover of night with his son, seeking refuge in the Imperial Capital, Prime Lake City. The last pillar of the Tiger Wing Duchy had thus crumbled.
With Li Junce gone, Wu Lie cast off all restraint, preparing his forces, determined to eliminate Xi Min without delay. At this juncture, Xi Min had no recourse.
The Arcana records his plotting with the Hu Ji: "The Lord is unjust and pressures his subject too greatly. It has come to this: we must either kill or be killed."
Thus, the poisonous plot was laid. Xi Min feigned terror, submitting a memorial of penitence, offering to present the Hu Ji to seek peace. Wu Lie, complacent in his victory, accepted the offering and held a private banquet to receive the beauty.
During the feast, the Hu Ji personally served the poisoned wine. Wu Lie drank it and died violently that very night, his death resembling a sudden, acute illness. The Duchy's imperial physicians, all under Xi Min's control, reported the cause to the Imperial Capital as "cardiac arrest due to excessive drinking."
A case of regicide was thus smoothly concealed beneath a gentle veil of deceit.
With Wu Lie's demise, the Hu Ji, as the surviving widow, temporarily managed the Duchy's affairs according to the Imperial Canon. Yet, all internal and external authority completely transferred into the hands of Xi Min.
The Imperial Scribe concluded: Observing Xi Min's life, he began as an upright minister and ended as a reviled traitor. His talent was sufficient to govern the state, and his intellect sufficient to scheme for himself, but his heart was insufficient to master his desires. At his first sight of the Hu Ji, he may have been seduced by beauty; in the subsequent confrontation, he was driven by power; and in his final act of regicide, he had become a slave to lust, bound for eternal damnation. Wu Lie's hubris and Li Junce's flight were external causes for his fall, but the root cause lay in the "self-devouring of the inner demon." Future students of history must take this as a grave warning.
In the arena of power, one false step leads to an abyss of ten thousand fathoms. The affair between him and the Hu Ji was not a case of a 'femme fatale' but a classic example of how the craving for control blinds the eye and carnal desire corrupts the heart. A lamentable lesson, indeed!
The death of Tiger Wing's National Lord, Wu Lie, was a tragedy—an event that one could not decide whether to call a farce or a dark comedy. For the entire Empire, it was a farce: a young Lord murdered over such an absurd reason—vying with his minister for a woman, resulting in his assassination. His death, on the cusp of the critical Elector's Assembly, directly plunged the conference into a protracted deadlock.
The comedy, conversely, was for Mont Mentiel, for whom the more chaos, the better the opportunity.
Part II: The Interruption of Fate
At this moment, that tragedy was personified by a man sitting in the passenger seat of a dilapidated goods carriage. His face was a mess of tangled beard, his hair a bird's nest, and he was covered in the dust of the road. Beside him, the driver sat in silence, concentrating on his task. In the carriage compartment, a six-year-old boy slept soundly in a travel sack, oblivious to the turmoil surrounding them.
The man had barely made it through the gates of Prime Lake City just before the sunset closure. He steered the cart onto the capital's main thoroughfare, heading toward the residence of the Raven Lord. However, at the border between spring and winter, the daylight faded quickly. Not two-thirds of the way there, night had fully descended.
The carriage turned into a narrow market alley, only to encounter a fierce skirmish in progress. Ten assailants, clad in black and wielding various weapons, had cornered one master and his three bodyguards.
The intense fighting did not last long; the three personal guards soon cast down their weapons and withdrew from the fray, leaving the richly dressed gentleman to face the ten assassins alone.
There was an unspoken custom in the Empire: in such assassination attempts, if the bodyguards laid down their arms and retreated, the assassins were obliged to treat them as 'dead' and not pursue them. The guards, in turn, were bound by principle to withdraw and, even when questioned by officials, had to remain silent, for the 'dead' cannot speak.
After all, being a bodyguard was merely a profession; having fought diligently was enough. There was no need to forfeit one's life for a job.
Should the assassins violate this rule, it would trigger a general hunt: both righteous and dark factions would pursue the contract killers for the breach of covenant.
Likewise, being an assassin was merely a profession; having fought diligently was enough. There was no need to forfeit one's life for a job.
The man cornered in the middle of the melee was the target of the attack: Mont Mentiel, the National Lord of Raven.
Mont Mentiel was not only a clear-headed strategist but also kept his martial skills honed. Facing the ten assailants, he adopted a strategy of staunch defense and was able to hold his own for the time being.
The Raven Lord's residence was not far. Reinforcements would arrive shortly. Mont Mentiel was resolved simply to survive.
It was then that the bearded man moved.
He leaped down from the carriage and, with a smooth reverse draw, pulled out a heavy two-handed broadsword. His movement was as quick as a leopard's pounce. He violently crashed into the battle, instantly standing back-to-back with Mont Mentiel.
"You really should shave that beard sometime. You look like a savage."
Mont Mentiel, surrounded by killers, still found the time to critique the bearded man's appearance, showing utter disregard for the assassins.
"Your ability to make enemies is truly abysmal. People are trying to kill you everywhere you go."
The bearded man swung his heavy sword, forcing two assassins back with its sheer weight and power, retaliating with a retort of his own.
"The last time I saw you, you were being chased by a large group, too. You should really reflect on yourself."
"That was a large group of beautiful women! I simply forgot to bring money, not that I had no intention of paying."
Mont Mentiel hastily clarified, his twin blades carving two silver arcs.
"Never mind. Who's trying to kill you this time?"
The heavy sword sliced through the air with a rushing sound. The bearded man parried the strikes of two assassins while keeping the conversation going with Mont Mentiel.
"Who knows? This is the third time in ten days. The public order in Prime Lake City is truly failing."
"But it's almost certainly related to that dog Su Wang (New Character). Only he has the excessive wealth to hire this many assassins."
The two, one with a broadsword and the other with twin blades, cooperated with an uncanny understanding. The ten assassins were unable to gain any immediate advantage. The sudden attack also ended as abruptly as it began: a rush of dense footsteps and shouts came from the alley entrance. The guards from the Raven Lord's manor surged in like a tide. Seeing this, the black-clad assassins did not linger. They swiftly melted into the shadows and vanished.
"You savage, your strength is still immense."
Mont Mentiel laughed and punched the other's shoulder.
"And you, fox, your sharp tongue hasn't dulled either."
The bearded man—Li Junce—returned the friendly jab, a genuine smile in his eyes.
Part III: The Price of Patronage
They were long-time friends, schoolmates who had shared a desk at the Royal Academy, and former rivals who had constantly pushed each other. Now, one was the esteemed Lord of Raven, while the other was the former Chancellor of Tiger Wing, fleeing in haste to seek refuge. Add to them their third friend, the Winter Duke, Dipper Aureus, currently confined to the Imperial Palace and agonizing over the Empire's future.
These three young men, so close in age, had once been deeply devoted to one another. Yet, the currents of fate had, at some unknown point, begun to push them along the predestined, competitive paths of their own destinies.
"It must have been a hard journey."
Mont Mentiel released his shoulder, his tone sincere.
"Since I received your message, I've been looking forward to your arrival daily. I just never expected that before you got here, the Tiger Wing Duchy would suffer such an earth-shattering upheaval."
It turned out that Li Junce, after fiercely advising Wu Lie against stirring civil strife over a woman, was dismissed from his post by the enraged National Lord. Disheartened and knowing that great chaos was imminent in the Duchy, he sought to take his only son away from the epicenter of conflict. The first place he thought to flee to was his closest friend Mont Mentiel's Prime Lake City.
But he never imagined that while he was still on the difficult road, his headstrong former Lord, Wu Lie, would already have met a violent end.
"I only heard about it after entering the city."
Li Junce sighed, his expression complicated as he looked towards the carriage. Inside the compartment, his six-year-old son, Li Kuiyu (Jade), was still sleeping peacefully in his sack, oblivious to the seismic changes in his own fate.
Li Junce's wife had died years ago in childbirth, leaving him only this one child. He named him Kuiyu (Jade), signifying a jewel's resilient purity, hoping only for his safe upbringing.
However, with Wu Lie's death, the situation had abruptly changed. According to the Imperial Clan Law, the direct male lineage of the Tiger Wing Duchy was now severed. Li Kuiyu's mother was precisely Wu Lie's only younger sister!
This kinship, which no one had previously considered important, now became the key. This six-year-old child, asleep in the carriage, had suddenly become the first in line and legitimate heir to the Tiger Wing Ducal title.
He had initially come with his father to seek refuge, but unknowingly, he had stepped onto the newest wave of the Empire's storm of power.
No. Something is wrong.
A warning signal flashed in Li Junce's mind. The loyal servant who had driven the carriage stumbled toward him, his face ashen, clutching something tightly in his hand.
"My Lord! Just now… just now, two exceptionally skilled women suddenly appeared! Without a word, they forcibly took the young master! We, we couldn't stop them! They only left this, saying to give it to you—that you would understand!"
Li Junce took the object, still warm to the touch. It was chillingly cold—a finely crafted ring. On its face, the arrogant posture of a raven relief was distinctly visible in the dim alley light.
The Raven Lord's crest.
A cold jolt instantly shot up his spine. Li Junce slowly raised his head, his gaze like a blade pinning Mont Mentiel's face. The warmth of their recent alliance was completely gone, replaced by the cold fury of a man whose deepest core had been violated.
"Mont Mentiel."
His voice was terrifyingly low, each word forced out between clenched teeth.
The point of his heavy broadsword was now aimed directly at Mont Mentiel's throat.
"You owe me an explanation—now."
He thrust the ring close to Mont Mentiel's eyes. If his closest friend's forthcoming words were even slightly ambiguous or unconvincing, the fellowship that had just repelled the assassins would shatter completely at this very moment, potentially turning them into instant, deadly enemies.
End of 1-7