Chapter 122: A Fatal Trap on a Cold, Windy Night

In truth, if not for the pride and aloofness ingrained in his bones, Kong Sheng would not have reached such an impasse with Li Xuan.

From Li Xuan’s perspective, she was acting out of genuine concern and a desire to elevate him. But from Kong Sheng’s standpoint, there were two immovable obstacles: first, his established life plan could not be easily altered; and second, he could never bring himself to debase his principles by becoming a lackey and selling his life for the Prince of Guo, Li Ju.

Setting aside the question of whether Li Ju was even worthy of his service, the very act of being branded as part of the Prince of Guo’s faction would, in the long run, severely limit his future. He was, after all, a protégé of the Emperor, a magistrate of the eighth rank appointed by imperial decree. Though the position was humble, it was not something he could lightly discard. How could a dignified protégé of the Son of Heaven stoop to become a slave, driven at the beck and call of the Prince of Guo?

Thus, the conflict between Kong Sheng and Li Xuan was destined to be irreconcilable.

What Kong Sheng did not realize was that his repeated refusals had sown deep suspicion in Li Xuan’s mind. She had become convinced that he was harboring treasonous intent—and it was upon this foundation that her murderous resolve was built.

The twilight faded, and the shroud of night descended. In the depths of midwinter, darkness fell with particular haste, the night swallowing the world almost as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon. Under the dim, gloomy sky, Li Xuan sat solemnly in the floral hall. Two robust men dressed in black entered silently and knelt before her, their heads bowed. "Greetings, Princess," they said without a word more.

Li Xuan gave a soft hum. "Is that young scoundrel Kong still settled?"

One of the men replied in a low voice, "Kong Sheng is bedridden and unable to rise. Mu Changfeng has shown no signs of activity, and those two, Wu Xian and Wu Xie, are also resting in their quarters."

Li Xuan arched her willow-like brows, a cold, ruthless smile spreading across her delicate face. "Li Hu, Li Bao, at the third watch tonight, wait for my signal and strike immediately! You two are to coordinate with me to pin down Mu Changfeng. As for Kong Sheng, Wu Xian, and Wu Xie, they are heavily wounded and hardly worth mentioning. Furthermore, arrange for archers to surround the entire outer courtyard. This time, we must not let that little scoundrel escape!"

Li Hu and Li Bao acknowledged the order, though inwardly they found it excessive. They felt the Princess was making a mountain out of a molehill. To deal with three or four wounded men, there was no need to mobilize such a large force—most of the Wang Family Fortress’s strength, including the archers, who were rarely deployed.

Yet, this only served to show the depth of the Princess of Fengyang’s lethal intent toward them.

Deep into the night, a frigid wind howled, and faint, unnatural movements could be heard outside the hall. Mu Changfeng had slipped out to scout, and upon his return, his expression was grim. Kong Sheng did not need to ask; he knew Li Xuan had surrounded their courtyard with a massive force and placed archers in the shadows. She intended to strike tonight.

"Young Master, it is dire," Mu Changfeng sighed, shaking his head. "Li Xuan’s people have completely encircled our quarters, and there are many archers hidden in the dark. If we try to force our way out, I fear... I fear the odds are against us."

Kong Sheng’s lips tightened into a line, a silent, helpless curve. That Li Xuan would act so swiftly proved that her ruthlessness and decisiveness were even greater than he had judged.

He had been trapped in one dead end after another recently. The struggle against Nangong Wang and the Hongze river bandits had not yet fully subsided, his wounds had not yet healed, and now he had stepped into a lethal trap set by Li Xuan. All his troubles, he mused, stemmed from his own pride. On the road to take up his post in Suiyang, the bloodshed and hardships he encountered all seemed to root back to that chance encounter at the Xiangwu Pavilion outside Runzhou.

If only he hadn't bothered to engage with Li Xuan back then. They were meant to be mere passersby, each walking their own path; had they remained strangers, they would surely be at peace even now. But there was no medicine for regret in this world. Meeting her after leaving Jiangning seemed to be an inescapable twist of fate.

"What shall we do?" Mu Changfeng asked urgently.

Kong Sheng sighed softly. "To be honest, Brother Mu, I do not know. Only this: if all is lost, you may break through the encirclement and continue your life as a wandering hero. As for Wu Xian and Wu Xie, if they reveal their identities, I suspect Li Xuan will not kill them. As for me—she is coming for me. Old grudges and new, she will never let me go."

Mu Changfeng’s jaw tightened. He was no fool; if there were a glimmer of hope, he would not abandon Kong Sheng. But if Kong Sheng were to die, he would not be so pedantic as to sacrifice his own life alongside him. With his light-body skills and swordsmanship, there was a chance he could escape the Wang Family Fortress.

"Young Master, there is a saying: 'A wise man submits to circumstances.' We in the martial world say that he who preserves his life can always find a way to rebuild. Why not..." Mu Changfeng hesitated for a long time, attempting to persuade Kong Sheng to be flexible.

Kong Sheng gave a bitter laugh. "Brother Mu, you do not understand. There are some people, some things, and some times where one must never bow his head. Often, if you bow once, you will never be able to lift your head again for the rest of your life. If I must live my life in a state of groveling, I would rather die!"

Mu Changfeng looked at Kong Sheng, speechless. He found it difficult to grasp Kong Sheng’s logic. They were at the brink of life and death; why hold onto such useless pride? To survive, what was the harm in bowing to a Princess of the Imperial Clan? Besides, her goal was merely to recruit talent; even if Kong Sheng were unwilling to serve the Prince of Guo, could he not simply feign compliance for a time?

Kong Sheng knew what Mu Changfeng was thinking, but there were some things he could not explain—things that, even if explained, Mu Changfeng’s values and understanding would not allow him to grasp.

Had Kong Sheng bowed and conceded from the beginning, there would have been no problem. But he had a red line he could not allow to be crossed. As for now, even if he were to cast everything aside to beg for his life, it would only make Li Xuan look down on him more, fueling her desire to kill.

Therefore, this was a lethal trap. Whether he stood tall or bent his waist, the outcome remained the same.

The atmosphere in the hall grew heavy.

Mu Changfeng stood at the entrance, listening to the movements outside. With his keen hearing, he could clearly discern the whispers of the ruthless guards as they gripped their weapons, and the occasional clatter of steel. His sharp gaze pierced the night, spotting archers lurking in every secret corner—on the walls, under the eaves, and even hidden in the bamboo grove directly facing the gate. When the time came, a hundred arrows would fly, and not even a fly would escape.

Li Xuan stood by the arched gate, wrapped in a fur cloak. At this moment, a strong impulse surged within her to enter the courtyard one last time for a final attempt. But she realized that even if Kong Sheng were to bow under these circumstances, it would not be a genuine submission. If he were to surrender only to save his life, he would not possess the backbone she admired—and if he lacked that, he was not worth having.

Yet, as her heart hardened, she also felt a sense of lament. She deeply admired Kong Sheng; otherwise, given the slights she had suffered from him, she would have long since torn him to shreds without hesitation. That she was about to destroy such a man with her own hands made her current state of mind complex indeed.

The cold wind intensified, though the night was starry. Wu Xian and Wu Xie were not fools; they sensed the gravity of the situation and hurried to pack their belongings, entering Kong Sheng’s room. Upon seeing them, Kong Sheng did not hesitate. He bluntly suggested they go to Li Xuan to beg for mercy; she had no designs on them and would surely spare their lives.

Realizing the severity of the situation, the brothers felt a chill run through them. But to the surprise of both Kong Sheng and Mu Changfeng, they exchanged a look and, instead of fleeing, knelt together. Their voices were resolute. "Young Master, we are not men who fear death. We have already died once before. When the bandits surrounded us, you did not abandon us. Now that you are in danger, how could we leave you behind?"

"Life and death are but a fleeting moment," Wu Xie, usually a man of few words, blurted out with a coarse oath that left Kong Sheng momentarily stunned.

The reaction of the two brothers stirred deep emotions in Kong Sheng. Trust between men is often forged in the fires of life and death, yet all too often, just as such a bond is formed, it reaches its end.

At this point, Kong Sheng could only offer his thanks. Any other words—whether of gratitude or sentiment—would be useless and only add to the heaviness of the hour.

The events of these recent days felt utterly absurd to Kong Sheng. Was it his fate that, despite escaping the wretched life of a dissolute dandy in Jiangning, he was now to perish on the road to Suiyang? Was he truly meant to be nothing more than a fleeting traveler through the Tang Dynasty, a bright meteor streaking across its dim night sky?

Kong Sheng bitterly pushed himself off the bed. Wu Xian and Wu Xie helped him dress and tied his cloak. On the surface, apart from his pale complexion, he looked no different—still the elegant, dashing young man.

Kong Sheng bent down to pick up his pack, which contained only a few changes of clothes and the imperial decree. All the money and travel funds for the four of them were with Mu Changfeng.

Without another word, Kong Sheng stepped out.

Mu Changfeng and the two brothers followed, their hearts heavy. The four walked slowly through the dark courtyard, heading toward the arched gate.

Hidden archers at every post braced themselves like men facing a great enemy, bows drawn and arrows nocked, waiting only for Li Xuan’s command. Over a hundred attendants stood in the shadows, their steel swords gripped tightly, their breathing ragged with tension.

The northwest wind gusted, swirling a few withered leaves into the night sky before they drifted down once more.

Outside the gate, Li Xuan stood alone in the moonlight. Her figure was elongated by the pale glow, and the ruthless, indifferent smile on her face was etched clearly into the darkness.

Death was approaching. Was he afraid? Kong Sheng asked himself silently, yet his steps remained steady, without a moment’s hesitation.