Chapter 53: Risking It All for the Gall (IV)

Cheng Lingsu oriented herself, urging her horse into a wild gallop. She rode for over an hour before the wind carried to her ears faint sounds of horses neighing, banners flapping, cries and shouts of battle. The dust and sand blown toward her grew thicker. She reined in her mount, wiped her face clean of grit, and looked around. In the northwest, she saw a small earthen hill rising above the plain. At once, she turned her horse and charged straight up the slope.

It was dusk. At the horizon, a thin streak of sunset lingered, bloody red and blazing like fire. From the crest, Cheng Lingsu gazed into the distance: countless bonfires and torchlights scattered across the grasslands like stars, illuminating the entire prairie with their dazzling brilliance.

Though she had lived an extra lifetime compared to ordinary folk, that other life was as a girl not yet eighteen. She had faced life and death, yet never witnessed the spectacle of two armies clashing. Now, faced with such multitudes of soldiers and horses, even her calm composure was shaken, prompting a low gasp of astonishment.

Focusing her gaze, she saw within the encirclement of tens of thousands of troops another hill, much like the one where she stood, crowded with figures. Upon it, a massive white-haired banner billowed fiercely in the wind, its flapping so sharp that it seemed to slice through the tumult of drums and battle cries, echoing across the prairie.

It was Temujin’s banner!

But the distance was so great that even straining her eyes, Cheng Lingsu could not discern the faces upon the hill. She could only vaguely make out familiar figures darting back and forth—perhaps the Six Freaks of the South and Guo Jing, with occasional flashes of cold steel suggesting they were locked in combat.

Temujin, believing Sankun wished to discuss matters of marriage, had left camp with only a few hundred men. The disparity between the two armies was vast. Even if each of his followers was a master, protecting him amidst thousands would be nearly impossible. The Six Freaks, not being supreme martial artists and inclined to preserve themselves, would struggle to withstand an assault should Sankun and Jamuka sound the charge.

Cheng Lingsu watched for a while, anxiety gnawing at her. She turned again toward Temujin’s camp—its hill easily defensible in daylight, but when night fell… If Tolui’s reinforcements did not arrive soon, they might be too late…

Just then, beneath the last sliver of sunset, a sudden cloud of dust rose in the distance, as if tens of thousands of cavalry were charging forward. Sankun’s formation nearest the scene instantly faltered.

She glimpsed Tolui’s banner at the front, and relief swept over her. Only then did she notice her palms, slick with sweat as she gripped the reins and whip.

Though her temperament was tranquil, she valued loyalty above all. It was not merely that she wished to preserve Temujin as the prairie’s shield, nor was she unaware of his intent in marrying her to Dushe. Yet, over ten years, she had keenly felt Temujin’s affection for her as a daughter. Even if this affection carried a trace of guilt regarding her marriage, how could she remain indifferent to the safety of the man she had called “father” for a decade?

Seeing Sankun’s cavalry fall into disarray, Cheng Lingsu let out a long breath, ceased her scrutiny, turned her horse, descended the hill, and headed back toward camp.

This battle, in fact, furnished Temujin with a pretext to wage war against Wang Khan. Not only did he triumph against the odds, breaking the coalition of Wang Khan and Jamuka, but if not for Wanyan Honglie’s martial artists fighting desperately, even the illustrious Sixth Prince of the Jin Empire might have perished amidst the desert.

When Tolui brought her the news, Cheng Lingsu suddenly recalled Ouyang Ke drunkenly lost in flower fragrance, and couldn’t help but smile.

With his martial arts, the effects of “Ti Hu Xiang” would not last long. He would not be in mortal danger during the battle. Yet, if he knew that her releasing Tolui had triggered such calamity, what would he think?

Seeing her delight, Tolui’s face lit up as well, “There’s even happier news. Not only do you need not marry that scoundrel Dushe, I’ve brought you a gift.” With that, he gestured to the large wooden chest his guards had carried to Cheng Lingsu’s tent.

She laughed at his eager presentation, as if he’d caught some rare prey for her. “If I lack anything, I can ask you or father for it. Why bother with gifts…” But as Tolui opened the chest, her last word stuck in her throat.

Inside was not a rare creature, but a living man—a man she recognized.

“Dushe?”

The once pampered, arrogant grandson of Wang Khan was now curled up in the chest, covered in sand and dust, his clothes unrecognizable, his face streaked with blood. When the chest was opened, the notorious bully trembled all over, desperately squeezing into a corner, whimpering incoherently.

“Yes, Dushe,” Tolui said, proud. “When we swept through Sankun’s remnants, I spotted this wretch amid the chaos. I meant to kill him outright, but thinking of how much grief he caused you over the years, I brought him to you instead. Kill him, beat him—however you wish. Vent your anger.”

“Grief?” Cheng Lingsu felt Dushe had never truly wronged her. The marriage was arranged by Temujin and Wang Khan. Even without Sankun and Jamuka’s betrayal, she would never meekly obey and marry him… As for Dushe, apart from that one encounter when she taught him a lesson, he had had no real influence upon her.

“So… you’re saying I can deal with him as I please?”

“Of course.”

“Good,” Cheng Lingsu extended her hand, “Lend me your knife.”

Tolui unfastened his waist saber and handed it to her.

Dushe suddenly stiffened, fixing Cheng Lingsu with a wild gaze—like a wolf cornered deep in the steppe. The trembling ceased, replaced by violent heaving of his chest.

Cheng Lingsu, unfazed, flicked her wrist, spinning the blade deftly.

The sharp edge whistled through the air, yet Dushe forced his eyes open, refusing even to blink.

The flash of steel lasted only a moment, though it seemed to stretch forever… The thick ropes binding his wrists split cleanly.

Dushe was stunned. He had no idea how many wounds he bore, but he felt clearly that Cheng Lingsu’s blade had not so much as scratched his skin.

“Hua Zheng! What are you doing?” Tolui’s expression changed. He snatched the saber from Cheng Lingsu and brandished it, holding it across Dushe’s throat.

Dushe seemed not to notice. He remained huddled in the chest, unmoving, staring at Cheng Lingsu, his eyes bewildered and lost.

Cheng Lingsu let Tolui take the knife, then gently grasped his wrist, “You promised I could do as I wished…”

“That didn’t mean letting him go…” Tolui’s grip tightened, his gaze murderous. “If you catch a wolf but let it loose, it’s the flock that suffers.”

“He’s hardly a wolf.”

“Tolui brother,” Cheng Lingsu, seeing his anger ease, continued, “Had he not clamored to break off the engagement, we would not have discovered Sankun and Jamuka’s plot in time. Let’s consider it…”

“But what about father…” Tolui, ever obedient to his little sister, hesitated.

Cheng Lingsu was clever enough to read his mind at once.

Dushe was Wang Khan’s grandson. Without Temujin’s approval or tacit consent, Tolui could never deliver such an important captive to her for “disposal.”

“I’ll speak to father.”

“No,” Tolui pulled her back, hesitated briefly, then patted his chest, “Do as you wish. Leave father to me.”

Though his words sounded simple, Tolui revered Temujin as a god and never defied his commands. For him to say this…

Cheng Lingsu felt a warmth in her heart. Since her master, the Poison Hand Medicine King, died in her previous life, she had never felt such wholehearted protection.

She had grown used to facing everything alone, even if she once had an “elder brother”…

For the first time, Cheng Lingsu acted like a true child of the steppe, extending her arms to embrace Tolui.

He had always known his sister cared for him, but she rarely showed affection. Now, surprised and flustered, he returned her embrace after a moment’s pause, holding her tightly.

Cheng Lingsu was, at heart, a Han girl. Her true feelings surfaced only briefly before she grew embarrassed, releasing him and stepping back, her cheeks tinged with red.

Tolui laughed heartily.

“Right, I nearly forgot—father told me to relay a message.” He turned to instruct his guards to take Dushe far away, out of Temujin’s sight, then came back and patted Cheng Lingsu’s shoulder. “Father said: In bright daylight, be as deep and careful as a wolf; in the dark of night, be strong and enduring, like a raven.”

Cheng Lingsu’s heart stirred. “Father asked you to tell me this?”

“Yes,” Tolui nodded. “He wanted to marry you to Dushe because Wang Khan was powerful; we had to endure. He said, if only you understood this.”

Cheng Lingsu fell silent. Temujin spoke with purpose. Endurance in hardship was true enough—but what did he mean by “deep and careful”?

For ten years, she had lived quietly, intervened in secret several times to save or defend others, always avoiding Temujin’s notice. Counting carefully, it was only that time Dushe had visited…

And this time, Dushe had first fallen into Temujin’s hands…

Lowering her gaze, Cheng Lingsu made up her mind.

Author’s note: Temujin’s original saying—In bright daylight, be as deep and careful as a wolf; in the dark of night, be strong and enduring, like a raven!

Soon, we’ll be bidding farewell to the steppe~

Ouyang Ke: Hey! How could someone as elegant and suave as me not get a single scene!

Round Moon

Ouyang Ke: Hey!

Round Moon: Awooo—that’s the Xuan Iron fan!!! I’ve got a concussion… sob sob…