Xiao Kun pondered where they should seek refuge. Legends spoke of a forbidden ground atop Taihang Mountain Summit called Yaojin Palace, which shared deep ties with the Mortal World Demon Subduing Division. The lord of Yaojin Palace was a True Dragon who had promised to guard Shenzhou.
His Master had once said that if there was truly no other way, they could head to the top of Taihang Mountain and seek aid from that dragon.
Should he send Sa Luan to Yaojin Palace, let him cultivate the path of “techniques,” and from then on stay far from the mortal dust?
Xiao Kun thought left and right but could never bring himself to speak. He couldn’t tell Sa Luan about the “Heavenly Mandate” he had heard from Shuhu—even if he did, Sa Luan would never accept it.
“I heard someone came to visit, wanting to see you.” Xiao Kun wanted Sa Luan to confess on his own; he didn’t wish to expose the lie right away.
“Who said that? No one did.” Sa Luan listened to the music and flatly denied it.
“While I was away these past days,” Xiao Kun said, “do not see anyone. All of them harbor ill intentions.”
Sa Luan finally erupted. He shouted at Xiao Kun, “Do you have to ruin my mood right now?”
In his rage, Sa Luan grabbed a wine cup and splashed it. Xiao Kun instinctively dodged, avoiding his face but getting drenched on the shoulder.
Sa Luan panted heavily. Silence fell between them. The singing girl who had come to perform hugged her qin and watched the two men, not daring to speak.
“Sing,” Sa Luan said coldly.
The singing girl began a tune from the south.
“Deep the courtyard, how deep does it go? Willows heap smoke, curtains endless in layers…”
“…Tearful eyes ask the flowers, but they give no reply; scattered crimson flies past the swing.”
Sa Luan’s elegant mood was utterly ruined. He returned to the residence.
Back at the Hong Mansion, Xiao Kun stood thinking about how to broach the topic of their fallen nation when Sa Luan said coldly again, “If you stay by my side, naturally no one dares to provoke me. But if you do as you did last time and leave for ten days or half a month…”
Sa Luan’s voice buzzed in Xiao Kun’s ears like a drone. Xiao Kun kept his eyes closed the whole time, taking deep breaths.
“…then you can’t control me!”
With a thunderous crash, Xiao Kun finally erupted.
Sa Luan flew off the low couch through the air and slammed into the screen. Amid the chaos of crashing sounds, Xiao Kun walked toward Sa Luan.
“You’ve got some nerve! Xiao Kun!” Sa Luan was instantly shocked.
Xiao Kun merely clenched his hand in the air with one palm, and Sa Luan was hoisted up. He struggled nonstop and shouted, “Help! Someone’s killing me—”
“Who was that person?” Xiao Kun demanded.
“Wh-what?” Sa Luan trembled uncontrollably before Xiao Kun’s gray-blue eyes, filled with utter terror.
“N-no… he’s not a swindler…” Sa Luan grew incoherent. Xiao Kun yanked his hand through the air, and an immense force dragged Sa Luan right up to his face. Xiao Kun stared straight at him.
“Sa Luan,” Xiao Kun said gravely, “I haven’t disciplined you because I considered your parents’ passing and that it’s a time of grief. Great Liao is already gone! Your nation has been destroyed! Your clansmen have been sold into slavery! Do you think I want to manage you?!”
Sa Luan gasped wildly and said, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Master, Master! I won’t dare anymore.”
Xiao Kun roared back at him, “Then we might as well all die together!”
“No, don’t.” Sa Luan begged, “I still want to live. It’s my fault, Master!!”
Xiao Kun closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and released Sa Luan. Sa Luan crashed hard to the ground and stared up at Xiao Kun with wide eyes.
“Do you still remember that I’m your Master?” Xiao Kun said deeply.
Sa Luan scrambled away with all his might, coughing nonstop.
“What is it?” Xiao Kun quickly calmed down and turned his head.
A servant boy outside the door said politely, “The Master requests Lord Xiao’s presence.”
Xiao Kun turned, changed into an outer robe, and glanced at Sa Luan. This pent-up anger had built over days; intimidating the Exiled Young Lord like this was a last resort, but he hoped it would make him behave.
The servant boys were used to dealing with Sa Luan smashing plates and bowls. They rushed in now, swiftly cleaned up, and restored the hall to order.
Hong Cheng sat in the hall. Xiao Kun entered. The salt merchant, over forty and fat-headed with big ears, hurried down to bow upon seeing Xiao Kun and addressed him as “Lord Xiao,” inviting him to the seat of honor.
“What is it?” Xiao Kun asked.
“I heard General Dashi is leading fifty thousand cavalry, preparing to restore the nation?” Hong Cheng toyed with a Ru Kiln Tea Cup from the south, unable to put it down. He got straight to the point.
Xiao Kun replied, “Indeed. Once General Dashi returns…”
Xiao Kun’s gray-blue eyes fixed on Hong Cheng, reading the man’s inner thoughts. He suddenly fell silent, and the hall plunged into dead quiet.
Hong Cheng, oblivious, looked puzzled and said, “But I also heard a rumor that General Yelu Dashi plans to declare himself king in Kedun City?”
Xiao Kun snapped back and said, “If he dares, the first thing I’ll do is take his head.”
