Book 2 Chapter 78

Wei Shentong was in a good mood.

He walked alone through the streets of Sighnaq, taking in the sights and finding them, to his mild surprise, rather fair and charming. Here, a merchant sold spears beneath a canvas tent; there, a woman herded a string of Thousand Mile Horses into a wooden pen. Yuan flowed through the streets in both directions, a constant tide of scales, limbs, and voices, and more than once Wei Shentong had to step aside as a four-legged Yuan came thundering past.

Above them, the sky was almost completely empty. There was no one flying overhead, no silhouettes wheeling between the buildings, and no cultivators crossing the heavens in streaks of light. The absence gave the city an unexpected sense of scale. Without the sky being claimed by traffic, Sighnaq seemed both vaster and more grounded, more crowded with life precisely because nothing moved above it.

Wei Shentong himself looked every inch the part of it. Olive-green scales covered his body, streaked here and there with the weathering of age, while his hair had gone gray. In the guise of a middle-aged Yuan warrior out on business, he attracted little attention. Best of all, no one stopped him, or accosted him with questions, or tried to draw him into the long, tedious chattering that seemed to come so naturally to the people he was currently travelling with.

That was not the only reason for his good mood, but it helped. He could not deny it. Ever since leaving the Wall behind, something inside him had loosened. He felt lighter and more at ease. It was a peculiar sensation, considering that he was quite literally walking toward a war, and for a while he had resisted it, as though relaxing were itself a kind of negligence, but he could not fight the feeling forever. The Wall was behind him, and with it, somehow, the accumulated strain of years. It was almost – almost – like being on vacation.

The thought amused him. A vacation in the middle of an enemy land, while attached to a group infiltrating the Steppes on the eve of war. Hardly the sort of thing anyone else would have called restful. Yet that was precisely how it felt. The tension he had carried for so long was simply... coming undone. It seeped out of him with every passing day, leaving him languid and pleasantly restored. It was as though the weight of all those years had finally remembered that it did not have to sit on his shoulders forever.

He had even stopped worrying about the Unbroken Jade Coronet and the bronze jade. For the past two days, despite having ample opportunity, he had not bothered to refine the latter into the former. That alone was perhaps the clearest sign of how relaxed he had become. Frankly, Wei Shentong was beginning to wish he could stay. Not forever, of course, but just long enough to see the Steppes properly. To wander their cities without a mission, visit their markets, watch their people, and learn the rhythms of a place he had spent so many years knowing only as an enemy's territory.

It was a ridiculous wish since he was not a traveler, but rather an infiltrator, and there was a war waiting for him.

Unfortunately, Sighnaq also had other plans for him. Wei Shentong had been wandering for perhaps an hour when he realized he had no idea where he was. He stopped at a crossroads and looked around. The muddy street ahead was broader than the one behind him, crowded with vendors and carts and the occasional spirit beast hauling a heavy load. A narrow dirt track branched off to his left, vanishing between two tall tents. To his right stood a three-story yurt painted a faded red, its lower floor occupied by what appeared to be a tavern. Smoke poured from the conical roof in a steady stream, giving the building a look that proclaimed that it was perpetually smoldering.

Should he ask for directions to somewhere interesting? Or simply start heading north now?

Wei Shentong considered the question. Then, very deliberately, he decided that getting lost was part of exploring the Steppes properly. There was no reason to spoil a pleasant afternoon with unnecessary competence. He turned right. The tavern was considerably louder inside than it had appeared from the street. Warm air rolled through the open felt curtain serving as a doorway, carrying the smells of roasted meat, fermented grain, and something spicy enough to make his nose itch. Yuan crowded the long tables, some wearing nothing more than their scales, others dressed in the loose robes favored by merchants and craftsmen. Voices rose and fell over one another, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the occasional shout.

Wei Shentong paused at the entrance, then found an empty seat against the tent wall. A child hurried over, scales peeking out from beneath his shirt, and pressed a scroll into his hand. Wei Shentong unrolled it to find a menu. The parchment was threaded with spiritual sense, allowing the contents to be read without ink. He brushed his own spiritual sense across it, and found the primitive method of storing information unexpectedly charming. He ordered three dishes at random, tossed the requisite spirit stones to the child, and leaned back.

Around him, the tavern was loud and bustling. Yuan shouted across tables, argued over games, and competed in drinking and eating contests with an enthusiasm that seemed entirely disproportionate to the stakes. Others ate more slowly, talking quietly among themselves. Compared to the private rooms and secluded boudoirs in which Wei Shentong was accustomed to dining, this rough-and-tumble tavern could hardly have been more different. And yet he found himself smiling.

His food arrived shortly afterward, borne on the back of a feathered serpent that glided through the air and deposited the dishes neatly before him. The cutlery was wood, the plates were hammered bronze, and steam rose in fragrant curls from the food. There was khorkhog, meat cooked with fire-heated stones. Beside it sat a pastry shaped like a flat pocket, stuffed with something he could not quite identify. The third dish was a strange cake of flattened noodles, looped around itself and served in an oily broth. And, to his surprise, there was sweetened mare's milk as an accompaniment, garnished with floating pistachios.

Wei Shentong sampled everything. The meat was saltier than he preferred, though the flavor was deep and satisfying. The little pastry, meanwhile, was savory rather than sweet. Its filling seemed to be some mixture of lamb and mutton, unless, perhaps, it was spirit beast meat. Given the complete absence of true qi in the dish, however, it could not have come from anything stronger than a rank-one spirit beast. The flattened noodles, on the other hand, he loved. Dipped into the broth, they were mild but richly flavorful, with a pleasant taste that lingered on the tongue long after each bite. The milk was another matter. It was thick and slightly fuzzy on the palate, with a tangy sweetness beneath a faint alcoholic bite. Wei Shentong took a single mouthful, considered it gravely, and set the cup back down. Some discoveries, he decided, were better left unexplored.

Deeply satisfied, he let his gaze wander around the tavern. Sundown was still many hours away, not to mention the time until midnight after that. He could afford to spend some time exploring, perhaps picking up a bit of news along the way. Had their ploy with the fake Shi Wanjun succeeded? This was the encampment of a Khan. Surely he would already be stirring at the news spreading across the Steppes.

Wei Shentong considered the matter for a moment before deciding to do nothing. He should focus on exploring instead. The Princess and Mo Jian could worry about news and such matters. Barely had the thought crystallized in his mind, and he was about to rise, when the flap of the tent was tossed aside and a group of four-legged Yuan strolled inside. Wei Shentong quietly sensed their qi. Mid- to peak-stage Foundation Establishment.

Nothing special.

For the tavern, however, it was another matter. The owner, a Yuan with a hunched back and hooves for feet, came hurrying over. Bowing and scraping, he led the group deeper inside, toward a private section of the tent. The other customers whispered and nudged one another, their eyes following the powerful – for them – warriors. Instead of leaving, Wei Shentong idly decided to listen in. He would put in a token effort, then dedicate himself to his exploration, all without the slightest guilt. Hidden beneath the table at which he sat, a jade construct quietly took shape.

It was a mouse with oversized ears. It scampered along his leg before settling on his thigh, and at once, the voices all around him sharpened. He could hear every conversation with perfect clarity: the clatter of plates, the clink of bronze, the rustle of cloth and hide, even the sounds drifting in from outside. He filtered them all methodically. Somewhere deeper in the tent, he heard the hiss of steam as dumplings continued to cook. Even the scents seemed sharper, though he knew that was merely his mind playing tricks on him. The fragrant aromas of meat, horse, and leather surrounded him from every direction.

The group of Foundation Establishment Yuans had been led to a raised section at the very back of the tent, enclosed by walls of shifting cloth. A bone formation covered the area, isolating sound and spiritual sense alike. Wei Shentong slipped past it with insulting ease. The group's conversation drifted clearly into his ears.

"…third group this week. I have never heard of this many outriders being sent to patrol the plains. Not to mention Bahadur Shah said the lords have been sent to every corner of the Galloping Plains, to make sure no one slips past us. What under the Eternal Blue Sky are we hunting for?"

A loud belch followed. Wei Shentong instinctively wrinkled his nose as the – imaginary, he hoped – smell of meat and saliva tickled his nostrils.

"We'll know tonight," said the belcher, snatching something from a plate and stuffing it into his mouth. He continued speaking as he chewed, making every word unpleasantly wet. "Shah is gathering all of his outriders in the Oklo to tell us our orders. I heard they came" -belch- "from the Khan himself."

A moment of silence followed, accompanied by the sound of drink being poured into horns.

Then a third voice piped up, this one female. "Are we finally going to strike at Guyuk? If Urud is preparing for war-"

"Best not to make guesses about that, girl," cut in another voice, this one old and grizzled. The lone peak-stage Foundation Establishment Yuan in the group, Wei Shentong suspected. "What the Khan is planning is for his court's ears and his family's. The likes of us should not be gossiping about it."

"Oh, come off it, Durug," another voice complained. It was young, accompanied by the sound of gulping as the speaker drank from a horn. "What's the harm in saying that? We're all thinking it anyway. Chiggis is busy attacking the Wall, and Mongke won't move from his seat without someone standing between him and Batuk. The Green Horde is as vulnerable as it will ever be, and Urud is not someone to sit meekly while-"

A loud thud interrupted him. The grizzled Yuan had slammed his fist onto the table. The entire thing cracked beneath the blow, dishes flying in every direction as the other Yuan cursed and leaped backward. "Oi!" shouted the first speaker, before he was drowned out by a furious, "Durug, you bastard!" The woman's voice followed immediately after. "Where are you touching, you-"

Wei Shentong stopped listening. He ran the conversation through his mind instead, sorting through each detail with quiet concentration.

So, Urud Khan had increased the patrols around his territory and was now preparing for a major move. Had he swallowed the bait and was preparing to chase after "Shi Wanjun"? If so, it was good news. Wei Shentong was also somewhat amused to realize that, had their group delayed by a week, they might have found Sighnaq half-empty, stripped of most of its strength, rather than the dangerous city it was now. Regardless, should he try to find out more? From what he had heard, there was some meeting tonight between this Bahadur Shah and his outriders, where he would give them their orders. If Bahadur Shah was a figure with some authority, he would likely know more. At most, he would be at the Core Formation stage, and probably not even at its peak, given that he was in charge of a bunch of Foundation Establishment cultivators rather than being a part of the Khan's court.

Wei Shentong could easily sneak in and out without being noticed. But was it worth it? For one, he would be taking time away from his own enjoyment, and that was an important consideration. For another, someone outside the Khan's court was unlikely to know all that much. Wei Shentong did not want to put in the effort only to discover that he had learned nothing useful. Perhaps it would be better to simply ignore them and leave.

Yet an hour later, when the group of Foundation Establishment Yuan finally left the tavern, Wei Shentong rose from his seat and followed them from a distance.

Unfortunately for him, they did not head directly to the meeting they had been talking about. Instead, they wandered through the market, stopping idly at several stalls and generally enjoying themselves. The woman, he noticed, did not react when one of her companions casually placed a hand on her rump, merely swishing her fiery tail in response. Durug, the late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator, was the quietest of the group, trailing behind and letting the others take the lead. They talked, laughed, and generally had a good time.

Meanwhile, Wei Shentong felt his patience thinning. He wasn't irritated, exactly – but he was becoming increasingly annoyed that they were having fun while he could not. Perhaps he should simply leave and make better use of his time? Thankfully, another hour later, the group finally began heading toward the center of the tent city. Wei Shentong hoped the meeting wasn't near the ordu. He had no intention of testing just how effective his concealment was against the Khan himself. Before he had to worry about that, however, the group of five he was tailing suddenly veered to the side, making their way toward a large yurt.

Unbeknownst to them, an unseen green wind followed in their wake, slipping into the tent after them. They were not the only ones there. The yurt was already half full of Yuan warriors. All of them were four-legged, their scales gleaming beneath the lantern light cast by ropes hanging from the tent's peak. A wooden stage had been raised in one corner. Standing atop it was a Yuan wearing a helm, his aura pressing down upon the entire tent and proclaiming him to be a Core Formation cultivator.

Wei Shentong settled into a corner of the yurt, his presence concealed within the gentle currents of jade wind. He made no effort to get particularly close. There was little point. With the jade mouse still perched on his thigh, he could hear every word spoken on the stage. More Yuan entered. Some came alone, others in small groups. Most wore the simple loincloths of warriors accustomed to riding across the plains, though there were differences in quality. A few carried bows nearly as tall as a human, while others had curved blades hanging from their waists. All of them were at the Foundation Establishment realm.

Wei Shentong counted them idly. Thirty-seven, no, forty-one. A few more slipped inside before the flaps of the yurt finally fell closed.

He glanced toward the stage. The Core Formation Yuan remained silent, arms folded across his chest. His expression was stern beneath his helm, and his aura continued to press down on the gathering. Wei Shentong almost laughed. Was there really any need for this? These people were all his subordinates. He could have simply spoken.

Then he remembered his own conduct back when he had been magistrate of the Kanchi Mine and its surrounding district, and his amusement vanished. It was one thing to mock someone else, and quite another to accidentally mock himself.

The Yuan on the stage finally stirred. His eyes swept across the tent, lingering briefly on each person. Wei Shentong felt the faintest ripple of spiritual sense pass over the gathering and smiled inwardly. The man was careful, he had to give him that. His spiritual sense spread throughout the yurt, probing the crowd for hidden cultivators. It passed over Wei Shentong's position without the slightest pause. The green wind continued to swirl gently around him.

Bahadur Shah nodded. "Everyone is here." His voice was deep and carried easily throughout the tent. "You have all been summoned because the Khan has issued new orders."

The atmosphere immediately changed. The joking and casual murmurs disappeared. Wei Shentong leaned back slightly, suddenly finding the meeting somewhat more interesting.

Bahadur Shah continued. "For the past three days, our outriders have searched the Galloping Plains. Every road, river, settlement, and merchant route has been watched. The Khan has ordered this because an enemy has entered our territory."

A murmur spread through the tent. Wei Shentong's eyes narrowed. Enemy? He wondered how much these people actually knew.

"Do not ask who they are," Bahadur Shah said coldly. "You do not need to know." That was probably true, but judging by the way several Yuan exchanged glances, it did little to satisfy their curiosity. "Their identity is known to the Khan, as is their objective." Bahadur Shah paused. "They are carrying the Black Sulde."

The silence in the tent shattered. A wave of startled shouts and exclamations swept through the gathering. The Yuan exchanged shocked looks, followed by furious whispers. The legendary artifact of the First Khan had been found and was now in the hands of an enemy? It was fantastical news.

Bahadur Shah's voice rose, cutting through the uproar. "Silence!" The command carried the force of his cultivation, and the tumult quickly died down. "This enemy has not only desecrated the Sulde; they also seek to desecrate the grave of the First Khan. Yes, a fool from the Empire has entered the Steppes and is making their way toward the heartlands, seeking the legendary grave of the Great Khan."

His voice grew colder. "Urud will take great pleasure in hearing of this arrogant fool's demise at the hands of the Horde Without End. But we cannot allow the Sulde to vanish again." He swept his gaze across the assembled warriors. "The other Khans – weak as they might be – will come for the Sulde as well. We must reach it before they do and claim it in the name of Urud Khan."

For a moment, no one spoke. Then the tent erupted.

"How do we know this is true?"

"Where are they?"

"How many are there?"

"Have they already reached the grave?"

The questions came from every direction, overlapping until Bahadur Shah raised a hand. "Enough."

The warriors fell silent once more.

"You do not need to know the answers to most of those questions," Bahadur Shah said. "The Khan knows, and that is enough. What you need to know is that the Sulde has appeared again, and that whoever carries it is heading toward the grave of the First Khan."

Wei Shentong remained motionless. His mind, however, was racing. So that was the reason for the increased patrols. But Urud Khan had to know that "Shi Wanjun" was nowhere near Sighnaq. Why waste time patrolling the city when his quarry was supposedly escaping farther and farther away? Moreover, judging by the urgency in Bahadur Shah's voice, the news about the Sulde was being taken seriously. Urud Khan genuinely believed it was out there.

There was too much Wei Shentong did not know, too many pieces missing for him to form a complete picture. However, one thing could not be denied. Their deception had worked far better than expected. He had assumed the forged information would merely draw the Khans' attention toward Shi Wanjun and the Sulde in his grasp. He had never expected them to believe the part about Shi Wanjun heading toward the heart of the Steppes. After all, it was a foolish plan for a man fleeing the Empire to run straight toward his death somewhere else. And yet, apparently, they – or at least one of them – had taken it for granted that Shi Wanjun, an Imperial cultivator, was attempting to reach the First Khan's grave. They were already moving to stop him.

Wei Shentong almost smiled. This was becoming rather convenient.

"Your orders are simple," Bahadur Shah continued. "You will search every route leading toward the heartlands. You will inspect every caravan, every traveler, and every group of cultivators. If you encounter anyone suspicious, you will report their location immediately. The Khan will soon take his most powerful warriors and depart to hunt the enemy, leaving the protection of Sighnaq to us."

One of the warriors raised his voice. "And if we find the one carrying the Sulde?"

Bahadur Shah's eyes hardened. "Report their location. A messenger will be sent to the Khan immediately."

Once again, the orders did not make sense. Wei Shentong's eyes narrowed. Why would Urud Khan leave his warriors behind to search those coming into Sighnaq while he took his strongest forces to hunt Shi Wanjun? Shi Wanjun was already far away, and Urud himself was supposedly departing to pursue him. Why leave so many warriors behind to patrol the city? Was it simply in case another Yuan tribe attacked his encampment while he was gone? But then, why go to such lengths with the deception?

Unless… unless he was setting a trap. The news would spread that Urud Khan had left Sighnaq, taking his most powerful warriors with him to hunt down "Shi Wanjun." Meanwhile, Shi Wanjun was supposedly fleeing toward the Dead Sea. But could he actually make it? If their plan had worked as intended, there had to be several Khans pursuing him by now. Yet if the road to Sighnaq appeared empty – if Urud Khan was truly no longer there – a desperate man might attempt to blast his way through the city, hoping to turn what should have been a fortress barring his path into a bridge that would propel him ever farther away.

And the departed Khan would then reveal himself, having never departed at all…

It rested on a great many assumptions. Still, Wei Shentong could see it working. At least, he could see it working as long as one did not know the truth about "Shi Wanjun." Or perhaps he was simply chasing shadows. Perhaps Urud Khan had an entirely different plan in mind, one that Wei Shentong lacked the information to understand. That was certainly possible. After all, his source of information was still several steps removed from the Khan himself.

Regardless, he was quite glad he had decided to come here. This was no longer a matter of whether he should have spent his evening exploring.

It seemed that the entire Steppes had decided to become interesting for him instead.

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