Chapter 5: Crown Prince Part 1

Under the Black Giant Tree:

“They will part ways in Yan State. According to the plan, bring back Yelu Yari.”

“Yes, Heavenly Sovereign.”

Western Xia, Yinchuan City.

Unconfirmed rumors that Liao Kingdom’s Emperor Tianzuo Yelu Yanxi had died on the road had spread to Western Xia four months earlier. The Jin Kingdom effectively controlled the Yanyun Sixteen Prefectures, and to the south, the Song Kingdom eyed them covetously. Western Xia grew tense from top to bottom, dispatching large numbers of troops to the borders to guard against possible raids from Song or Jin.

No one could say for sure whether Song and Jin, who had formed the Maritime Alliance, would seize the opportunity of Liao’s peril to overrun Great Xia in one go. In the capital, the people panicked, and rumors ran rampant.

Xia Emperor Li Qianshun maintained his usual composure and immediately sent envoys to forge new treaties with Jin and Song. Since its founding, Western Xia had been called a “land of four battles,” facing incursions from Tubo and Uyghur while fighting on two fronts against Song and Liao. It had long mastered the art of diplomacy.

Liao’s fall brought the Shenzhou Great Land once more to a crossroads. One misstep, and Western Xia would face destruction.

Night had fully fallen when Xiao Kun arrived at the foot of Helan Mountain. He stowed the Dragon Jue and walked on foot to a village at the mountain’s base, then hitched a ride on a villager’s ox cart from the outskirts into the city. When descending from the dragon, he had to stay far from the Imperial Palace; there was no other way. A month ago, the Golden Dragon had appeared in the suburbs, witnessed by many commoners, and someone had reported it to Xia Emperor Li Qianshun, proclaiming “a golden dragon descends from heaven; Western Xia shall greatly prosper.”

If this “auspicious sign” were seen again by Western Xia’s ruler and ministers, it would surely shake the court and populace. They might even send troops to the Central Plains to join the fray and claim a share, leading to thousands upon thousands of casualties—far from his intent.

The northern lands lay desolate in deep autumn, Helan Mountain’s ancient starry sky twinkled at its peak, and the Milky Way stretched like a waterfall. No matter if the mortal world burned with war or basked in peace, the firmament forever shone calmly upon every era.

The Heavenly Veins emitted brilliant light, flowing through the night sky. Countless souls struggling in Shenzhou would merge into this eternal river upon death.

After parting from Xiang Xian, the words of the God of Time, Shuhu, echoed ceaselessly in the depths of his heart.

Xiao Kun let out a long sigh. Was Great Liao truly finished just like that? From Emperor Yu casting the tripods and dividing the Nine Provinces, countless dynasties had risen and fallen over millennia, like white foam on the sea, vanishing in an instant. His compatriots, his clansmen, had become Jin’s prisoners and slaves, awaiting death amid wails and torment.

At the city gates, the long journey finally ended. Xiao Kun left a few copper coins for the driver, dragged his exhausted body off the ox cart, and headed toward curfew-bound Yinchuan City at midnight. A few lights flickered within the walls, and sentries reinforced the gates above. He did not knock at the side door but leaped the moat, pressed against the wall, and used spells to draw a passage, slipping inside.

Yinchuan lay utterly silent. Xiao Kun walked the empty streets like a vagrant in the city. Groans of beggars and cries against the cold echoed from alleys now and then. He headed to the main street, where at midnight, lamps still burned deep within a few grand mansions.

A magnificent mansion bore a lantern reading “Hong.” Xiao Kun knocked twice on the copper ring at the back door. As impatience grew and he considered passing through the wall with spells, a small window slid open beside it. Lamplight spilled out, illuminating his face.

“Mr. Xiao is back?” the gatekeeper said. “Please, come in.”

The back door opened. Xiao Kun replied, “Thanks.”

He no longer cared to read these people’s minds. Everyone in the Hong Mansion saw him as a massive headache, wishing he would leave soon.

This estate belonged to a salt merchant named Hong Cheng from the former Liao Kingdom. His family had long operated in Zhongjing and Yinchuan, with salt trade spanning multiple countries. Upon hearing Jin would launch a major invasion, the wealthy Hong Cheng had fled here with his household. When Xiao Kun left Shangjing for Yinchuan, he had sought shelter with the Hong family, gaining a foothold.

If he were alone, anywhere would suffice.

The trouble lay in…

Xiao Kun entered the Separate Courtyard, wondering if the boy had gone to sleep. He had been away for days; who knew what tomorrow’s sunrise would bring.

“Has Sa Luan gone to bed?” Xiao Kun asked upon entering the Separate Courtyard.

“Yes.” The servant boy, having seen Xiao Kun cast spells, still held some respect for him. “Where has Lord Xiao returned from? Shall I prepare a bath?”

“A bath. And bring some wine,” Xiao Kun said. “Anything to fill the stomach will do.”

Xiao Kun nodded and slumped onto a low couch in the Separate Courtyard’s hall. Servants entered to warm wine and brought a plate of unnamed dim sum. He ate some; bathwater was ready in the side room. He washed off the road’s grime, changed into clean black underclothes, let his wet hair hang loose, and went to the inner chamber to check on his charge.

A thirteen-year-old boy curled on the bed, breathing evenly. His skin was fair, features delicate. Even in sleep, his brows furrowed slightly, as if trapped in an unpleasant dream.

Xiao Kun sat by the bed, reached out with a cool hand to gently brush the boy’s hair, tucked in the quilt’s corner, then rose and returned to the hall to drink.

“Has Your Highness left the house these past days?” Xiao Kun asked a servant boy.

“No.” The boy showed fear; Xiao Kun instantly discerned his thoughts.

[He has left the mansion three times and gone out with a middle-aged man.]

Xiao Kun’s gray-blue eyes met the servant’s. “Lift your head. Look into my eyes.”

The servant, fearful, had no choice but to meet Xiao Kun’s gaze.

Through the boy’s eyes, Xiao Kun vaguely saw a middle-aged man’s silhouette, his face indistinct.

Who was it? Xiao Kun wondered. They were guests under another’s roof; when had word leaked? But since they had gone out and returned safely, it was likely no enemy.

Such vigilance was necessary because the boy he protected was Yelu Yari, nicknamed “Sa Luan,” second son of Emperor Tianzuo Yelu Yanxi and the late emperor’s intended Crown Prince.