Chapter 101: Fate Brings Foes Together (6)

Li Xuan gradually calmed himself. After all, he was no ordinary man—his mind was deep, his nature strong. When he realized Kong Sheng’s methods were even more ruthless and shameless than he’d imagined, he understood that if it truly came to a fight to the death, then mutual destruction was inevitable.

He was well aware of his unique status. With Kong Sheng using him as a shield, no matter what happened, the men outside would not dare act rashly. The lives of Kong Sheng and his three companions were of no great consequence, but if Li Xuan were harmed, all the soldiers present would be doomed to death by flogging or the executioner’s blade.

“Kong Sheng, release me. Let us talk,” Li Xuan said, his composure returning as he even managed a smile. “This path of yours cannot last. Let’s negotiate. Perhaps I might yet grant you a way out.”

Kong Sheng’s expression did not change. “Brother Mu, fetch a rope.”

Mu Changfeng had already found a rope in a corner of the inn. At Kong Sheng’s words, he stepped forward to help bind Li Xuan.

Throughout the process, Li Xuan appeared relaxed, offering no resistance. Resistance would serve no purpose; it was better to submit than bring unnecessary suffering upon himself.

Kong Sheng and Mu Changfeng wound the rope several times around Li Xuan’s arms and legs, tying tight knots upon knots. In this state, unless Li Xuan were a deity come to earth, escape was impossible.

A flash of murderous intent flickered in Li Xuan’s eyes, but he forced it down.

Kong Sheng let out a long breath, clapped his hands, and stood there calmly. “I say again: we do not wish to be your enemy. If you agree to let us leave, then from this day forward, you and I shall go our separate ways.”

Li Xuan’s gaze shifted. “Very well, I agree—untie me!”

Kong Sheng laughed. “You give your word easily, but I cannot trust you so readily. If I let you go and you go back on it, we’ll have no graves to receive us.”

“Scoundrel, what is it you want?!” Fury burned in Li Xuan’s eyes. All his life, he had been pampered and supreme, holding power over the fate of others—when had he ever suffered such humiliation?

“It’s simple. First, have your men withdraw from the town. And leave your carriage behind.” A cold smile touched Kong Sheng’s lips. “Do not doubt my resolve or courage to bring us all down together.”

Li Xuan exhaled harshly, his eyes sharp as blades, fixed on Kong Sheng. “Scoundrel, remember this: even if you escape this time, next time you won’t be so lucky. Even if you flee to the ends of the earth, I will not forgive you. You will pay dearly for what you’ve done today!”

“Open the door. I’ll order them to withdraw!” Li Xuan said coldly, his voice ringing out.

Mu Changfeng chuckled, drifting over to open the inn’s door.

Outside, the soldiers anxiously waiting surged forward, but Li Xuan’s cool voice stopped them: “Withdraw beyond the town! They dare not harm me—be patient!”

The leader, a tall, powerfully built man of about thirty, brandished his long saber and, eyes blazing, parted the crowd. “My lord! Let us charge in and cut these four traitors down!”

“Li Biao, stand down!” Though bound, Li Xuan’s presence and authority were undiminished.

Wu Xian and Wu Jie drew their curved blades, pressing them to Li Xuan’s neck, eyes fierce. In truth, they were nervous; if these hardened soldiers stormed in, the consequences would be dire.

“Agh, this infuriates me!” Li Biao roared, smashing his fist into the solid wooden column at the inn’s entrance. With a thunderous crack, the thick oak post splintered, a deep dent appearing where his fist had landed.

“You traitors! Do you know who my lord is? Do you know who we are?” Li Biao spat, his voice booming.

Kong Sheng only sneered in silence.

Mu Changfeng stepped forward, gaze steely. “Enough talk. Will you withdraw or not?”

Li Biao’s lips twitched. He looked deeply at Li Xuan, who signaled him with a glance. Gritting his teeth, Li Biao barked, “Withdraw beyond the town at once! I will remain to guard my lord!”

He strode down the steps, planting his saber in the ground, then stood with hands clasped behind his back, head held high, unmoving as the wind howled.

Li Xuan’s soldiers silently formed ranks and thundered out of town, leaving only Li Biao standing in the snow at the door, stoic in the biting wind.

Inside, Li Xuan asked coldly, “Are you satisfied now, scoundrel?”

Kong Sheng gave a soft laugh, approached Li Xuan, crouched down, and with two fingers lifted Li Xuan’s delicate, fair chin.

Li Xuan’s anger and shame flared. “Scoundrel, what are you doing?”

Kong Sheng waved his hand, and Mu Changfeng, Wu Xian, and Wu Jie withdrew to the doorway, watching Li Biao’s furious figure in the snow through the door and windows.

Suddenly, Kong Sheng’s fingers slid over Li Xuan’s flawless cheek, pulled off the blue headscarf, and in an instant, a cascade of jet-black hair tumbled down Li Xuan’s back.

Li Xuan’s face flushed crimson, mortification and rage twisting his features. “Scoundrel, I’ll see you torn to pieces!”

Kong Sheng smiled coolly, reaching out again to touch the pale, smooth neck, lifting the collar of Li Xuan’s blue robe.

Li Xuan’s face turned ashen. “Scoundrel, stop at once!”

Kong Sheng laughed. “I wonder if I should call you Lord Li or Lady Li… or perhaps—”

With two fingers, he grasped the red cord at Li Xuan’s neck. Amid Li Xuan’s shrill cry, he snapped it and drew out a finely wrought, fish-white jade pendant.

Kong Sheng studied it in his palm, noting the exquisitely carved phoenix, wings spread as if to take flight, with a single archaic character—“Xuan”—engraved on its body.

His eyes flickered, thoughtful. After a moment, he pressed the jade tightly in his hand and said quietly, “If I am not mistaken, you are the third daughter of Prince Guo, Li Ju—a single name, Xuan—the very Lady Li Xuan once ennobled by the former emperor as Princess Fengyang.”

At these words, Mu Changfeng and Wu Xian and Wu Jie all blanched. Though they had suspected Li Xuan was a woman in disguise, none could have imagined she was a Tang princess—the daughter of Prince Guo himself.

Whatever the reason, whatever the motive for self-preservation, to have bound a princess of royal blood and treated her with such disrespect was a capital crime.

Mu Changfeng, a man of the jianghu, was shocked but unfazed. Princess or not, this was a matter of life and death—how could he show mercy just because of her noble birth?

But Wu Xian and Wu Jie, as imperial guards, understood only too well the dire consequences of offending the royal clan. They stood rooted, hearts pounding in terror, minds thrown into chaos.