When the desperate shriek of a woman echoed from the watchtower's summit, Li Yuangui was deep in astral projection.
Not that he was paralyzed with fear or mentally deranged—but well, as a hostage who wasn't quite ready to resist yet, what else could he do besides zone out?
His reluctance to resist wasn't out of fear of immediate death. His mind was clear: the brave foreign warrior Qibi Luo, who held a blade to his back, had one primary goal—to buy time so his young master Sang Sai could escape down the cliff of Cuiyun Peak along their original route.
Having realized this, Li Yuangui hesitated briefly before deciding to let the little brat flee first.
Stopping him wouldn’t have been difficult. Qibi Luo was forcing him out through the watchtower’s main northern gate, drawing the imperial guards’ attention to buy Sang Sai time to retreat. The Tuyuhun prince had likely exited through the southern gate and was descending the cliff via the two thick ropes tied to the watchtower’s foundation pillars. A single shout from Li Yuangui to divert some guards to cut the ropes would send the young prince plummeting to his death.
But then, his half-sister, the Seventeenth Princess, might never be found.
He wondered how Yang Xinzhi’s search was progressing... The thought of his towering guard unsettled him. Yang Rou-ta was a formidable fighter and far better than Li Yuangui at socializing and revelry, but searching, tracking, investigating, and covert rescues required meticulousness and patience—not to mention discretion. Yang Xinzhi’s loud, boisterous nature would probably scare off that An merchant before they even got close.
If only he had more suitable men for the rescue mission. But he had no one else he could trust.
Yang Xinzhi led the team, accompanied by two quick-witted young servants from Prince Wu’s residence and Fen Dui, a foreign girl dressed in male attire to facilitate communication with the foreign tribes. That was all His Highness Prince Wu could muster. Oh, and of course, the two hunting greyhounds from his household—thanks to Yin A-Ta’s reminder.
During his second meeting with the Tuyuhun prince, Sang Sai had brought along a young foreign merchant none of them had met before. Yet there was something oddly familiar about the man’s features. When he removed his pointed foreign hat and bowed, Li Yuangui and the others burst into laughter—his head was as bald and shiny as a polished gem.
No introduction was needed. They all guessed this was the son of Kang Su-mi’s steward, An San Tuzi. Introducing himself as An Yan-na, he spoke fluent Han dialect with a northwestern accent, just like his father. But he wasn’t just there as Sang Sai’s interpreter. With a hint of malice, the Tuyuhun prince revealed that the Seventeenth Princess was under this young An’s “care.” An Yan-na had suffered a brutal whipping at the Kang residence days earlier and could barely walk, let alone do anything else—so Li Yuangui needn’t worry.
To corroborate Sang Sai’s words, An Yan-na reluctantly removed his robe to reveal his back, wrapped in linen strips stained with fresh blood.
Suddenly, Li Yuangui remembered something and asked, “That night I visited the Office of the Protectorate General, I heard someone screaming in the middle of the night. Kang Sabao said it was a servant being whipped—was that you, young An?”
Both Sang Sai and An Yan-na nodded in confirmation. Li Yuangui pressed further, “Why were you punished?”An Yan-na's face darkened as he hesitated to answer, but Sang Sai had no such reservations and rattled off a stream of words. Fen Dui translated that after arriving at the Kang residence in Chang'an, Sang Sai had formed a close friendship with An Yan-na—"More like your gold ingots befriended him," Li Yuangui thought—and that An Yan-na had secretly led Sang Sai and others into the forbidden garden behind Kang Su-mi and his father An San's backs to set fire to the Temple of Common Vocation. Upon returning, Kang Su-mi was furious when he found out. To appease his master and prove his own innocence, An San personally gave his son a severe beating, which left An Yan-na resentful toward both his father and the Sart.
"But why did you burn down the Temple of Common Vocation?" One question was answered, only to raise more.
Sang Sai refused to give a straight answer to this, shaking his head and spouting nonsense about "divine will being inscrutable." Li Yuangui's main concern lay elsewhere, so he let the matter drop and focused on persuading Sang Sai to return his seventeenth sister first as proof of their cooperation.
But the Tuyuhun prince wasn't foolish. No matter how much Li Yuangui pressed, he wouldn't relent. Besides emphasizing An Yan-na's severe injuries, he added that the other guard watching the seventeenth princess was a eunuch—"nothing to worry about"—and promised to return the young princess immediately after their plan succeeded.
Someone must have convinced Sang Sai that "the Han people value female chastity above all," thinking this would reassure Li Yuangui. Of course, it didn't. The argument grew heated, nearly escalating into violence.
Chai Yingluo finally mediated. The female Taoist approached An Yan-na, drew a small knife, and cut open the hemp bandages on the young merchant's back to inspect his whip wounds. Confirming Sang Sai hadn't lied, she urged her uncle to be patient for now. Seeing her meaningful glances, Li Yuangui sensed something amiss but had no other choice and reluctantly agreed.
After finalizing details like forging Fish Tokens and attire, purchasing good horses, and other parts of their plan, the two groups parted. Chai Yingluo miraculously produced a bloodstained hemp strip from her sleeve—cut from An Yan-na's back—and handed it to Li Yuangui. "What's this for?" Yang Xinzhi asked blankly. Chai Yingluo snapped, "Don't you keep greyhounds?"
They then discussed where to start the search with the dogs. The seventeenth princess had been taken by these foreigners at Gongren Slope. Unfamiliar with the area and wary of imperial guards, where would these barbarians hide a young girl?
Seventeenth Sister, where are you now?
Just as Li Yuangui's thoughts grew muddled with exhaustion, a woman's shrill, unbroken scream pierced down from the watchtower high above, trailing off into the cliffs below.
Remembering that both Chai Yingluo and Wei Shufen were on the watchtower, Li Yuangui's scalp prickled, his entire body tensing. Behind him, Qibi Luo also seemed startled, his knife trembling slightly as the tip pressed forward.
Li Yuangui felt a chill on his back—the blade had sliced through the rear of his sleeveless jacket and into his skin. But Qibi Luo clearly didn't intend to kill him yet. Realizing he'd wounded his hostage, he immediately checked his movement.
That was enough.In the blink of an eye, Li Yuangui threw himself forward, rolling low to the ground. Though his hands were bound behind his back, leaving him defenseless, his legs remained free. Anticipating that Qibi Luo would stride forward to deliver a swift, vicious downward slash, Li Yuangui steadied his breath and listened for the wind's movement. Pressing his shoulder against the ground, he swung one leg upward in a sweeping kick—clang!—his foot struck squarely against the blade of Qibi Luo's sword.
Had it been Sang Sai wielding the sword, the kick might have sent the weapon flying from his grip. But Qibi Luo was far more formidable and composed. With a deft twist of his wrist, he deflected most of the force, keeping his longsword firmly in hand. Without missing a beat, he advanced again, slashing relentlessly at Li Yuangui, who now had no way to block the attack.
Fortunately, the counter-kick had succeeded—not only in deflecting the deadliest threat but also in giving Li Yuangui the momentum to roll away. The watchtower on Cuiyun Peak stood on a steep slope, and Li Yuangui tumbled downward from higher ground. With the added force from his kick, he rolled even faster, a disheveled, chaotic mess hurtling toward the Imperial guards.
If the squad leader still hadn't reacted by now, Li Yuangui cursed inwardly, I swear I'll slaughter your entire family.
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