“We’ve arrived!” Hulü Guang said happily.
With the Tupan Basin and canyon for support, plus Gaochang City’s walls, they had at least temporarily saved the lives of these 160,000 people. Along the way, Xiao Kun had been haunted by an obsession—the fall of Shangjing two years ago was still vivid in his mind. Flames had devoured Great Liao’s capital, yet he hadn’t protected the people; instead, he’d fled with Yelu Yari, caring only for himself.
Now, he had finally made amends elsewhere for that past regret.
Gaochang City’s gates were tightly shut. Officials lined the high walls, the Uyghurs in vibrant attire like banners atop the battlements, crowding around Gaochang King Bilage as he gazed at the dense, sky-covering mass of refugees in the canyon.
Silence reigned, broken only by the powerful hoofbeats of Xiao Kun and Xiang Xian’s horses, like steady drumbeats pounding the earth, drawing ever closer to Gaochang.
Xiao Kun reined in his horse thirty paces from the gate and looked up.
“Your Majesty the King,” Xiao Kun called out clearly, “Mr. Liu leads 100,000 of the Ba Army, conquering cities and territories. They’ve already taken Gumo, Luntai, and Korla. The people are homeless—please open the gates and take them in.”
“Lord Xiao!” Bilage’s voice came from atop the wall. “I tasked you with bringing me Grand Vizier Li Er Man’s head. And what have you brought me? 160,000 mouths to feed, a failed rebel turned stray dog of a Grand Vizier, and 100,000 inhuman, ghostly freaks—some inexplicable monster army from who knows where?! Is this what you promised me?”
Xiang Xian: “…”
Xiang Xian was about to speak when Xiao Kun waved him off.
Li Er Man came panting from the rear of the procession. At the gate, he unleashed a barrage of arrogant curses in Uyghur. Bilage didn’t even finish listening before firing back. The two traded Uyghur insults at the gate for nearly a quarter-hour. Hulü Guang arrived too, looking baffled.
“What are they saying?” Xiang Xian asked.
Hulü Guang said: “Childhood stories. Why won’t His Majesty open the gates? That’s not what he promised me earlier.”
Xiao Kun: “??”
Xiang Xian understood at once. Though Li Er Man had plotted rebellion against Bila Ge, they must have shared a deep bond in the past. That was why, as Grand Vizier stationed in the Southern Tianshan for years, Bila Ge had never moved against him.
Now, the Gaochang King seized this rare opportunity to force Li Er Man to submit and pledge loyalty once more.
In the end, Li Er Man, seething with rage, hurled his curved saber to the ground, dismounted while gasping for breath, and unwillingly knelt on one knee to Bilage.
“That’s a real man,” Xiang Xian laughed.
Xiao Kun grunted in agreement. At first, they’d all thought Li Er Man a coward, but along the way, whether he wanted to turn and fight the Ba Army to defend his honor or abandon resistance and join their plan to evacuate the people, he had shown the bearing of a Grand Vizier.
Gaochang’s four gates slowly opened, the drawbridge lowered, and the Gaochang Army came out to receive the refugees. The people outside erupted in earth-shaking cheers.
The procession surged straight in. Xiang Xian and Xiao Kun returned to their previous inn.
“Steam ten baskets of lamb siu mai,” Xiang Xian ordered the boss the moment he entered the inn. “Hurry up! Fry up a big basin of whatever fresh greens you’ve got—I’m starving! Go!”
Xiao Kun sent Hulü Guang to the Royal Palace to deliver a message, then said to Xiang Xian: “We shouldn’t stay here. It’s just a brief rest. Bilage will surely have us move into the palace soon.”
“Listen to me—don’t go to the palace.” Xiang Xian strode into a room, pushed open the wrong door, and panicked shouts came from inside.
Xiang Xian quickly switched rooms and said: “Even if the sky falls, we eat and sleep first. Xiao Kun, clean yourself up quick. Once the refugees flood in here, you won’t be able to move!”
Xiao Kun had no choice but to comply. The city was in chaos. Gaochang’s resident population was only 200,000, and now 160,000 more had poured in—nearly doubling. He went out to look and saw the Gaochang garrison displaying remarkable efficiency, going door-to-door to have residents shelter the refugees, share food and water. Bilage opened seventy percent of the Royal Palace for them to rest, keeping only the Main Hall and two side halls for himself.
The inn was packed. Merchants drank directly from the water troughs amid the clamor. Xiang Xian, having protected famine-stricken Song People in the Yan Region years ago, knew the scene all too well and swiftly settled in to sip tea.
After a period of chaos, everyone finally calmed down.
Hulü Guang said: “His Majesty the King invites us to move to the palace.”
“Tomorrow,” Xiang Xian said over his tea.
The boss brought over a group of children, looking troubled. Before he could speak, Xiao Kun knew and said: “No place to stay?”
“Yes, Lord Xiao.” The boss knew Xiao Kun’s group were Bilage’s honored guests who had protected over 100,000 people along the way. As he hesitated, Xiao Kun said: “Clear out our rooms then.”
Xiang Xian nodded to Wu Yingzong, who went to vacate them for the Uyghur and Shache children. Their parents camped in the alley behind the inn, taking turns to check on them.
“We’ll go to the palace at dawn,” Xiang Xian said. “Eat first, then deal with everything. Bilage is surely too busy to bother with us now.”
Xiao Kun: “We need to sort out our thoughts too. Relying on Bila Ge and Li Er Man’s forces, I’m afraid they won’t be a match for Mr. Liu.”
The boss served ten baskets of lamb siu mai, a huge basin of stir-fried vegetables sprinkled with spices, milk tea, and naan.
Xiang Xian wolfed it down at first to fill his stomach, then sipped milk tea and ate slowly. As they ate, they spread out the map. Xiao Kun asked: “How many garrison troops in Gaochang?”
