Chapter Ten: The Tide of Destiny

“Kill! Avenge Master Ji!”
The men of the Flying Eagle Stronghold raised their blades and charged forward, followed by the Crimson Flame and Azure Wolf clans, shouting, “Fight Black Wind Stronghold to the death!”
Steel flashed and shadows tangled in an instant. Thunder Tian wielded his blade at the vanguard, roaring, “Brothers, grab your weapons!”
Liu Qiang still lay atop the platform, watching the chaos unfold, and turned to search for Wen Changning.
But she was nowhere in sight. He clenched his fists, his heart filled with shock and suspicion. “What is she planning? Helping me just now—was that part of her scheme too?”
Meanwhile, Wen Changning had slipped away to the woods outside the stronghold, spinning her dagger between her fingers with a chuckle. “Five of them gathered, hatred boiling over. Now, it’s up to Thunder Tian to deal with the aftermath.”
…
Black Wind Stronghold, warehouse.
Two small bandits stood guard at the entrance. Upon seeing Wen Changning, their faces brightened in flattery.
Bowing and grinning obsequiously, they said, “Fifth Mistress, what brings you here today?”
Wen Changning spoke up, her gaze sweeping over the loose scabbards at their waists, deliberately raising her voice:
“The Flying Eagle Stronghold has joined with the other three to ambush us! I’ve come to fetch weapons and battle them head on!”
“You lot, take all the brothers and hurry to the gates and help. If Flying Eagle takes our lair, the Chief will skin you alive!”
The two bandits were startled, cursing as they rallied men toward the stronghold gates.
In a blink, Black Wind Stronghold was plunged into chaos.
Meanwhile—
In the dungeon.
“Haa… haa!”
Ragged, twisted breathing echoed amid the thick stench.
In the damp, dark chamber, Liu Meimei was undergoing a visible transformation.
The Yin-for-Yang ritual—complete!
The mute poison tormenting her for days, and the wounds left by Su Wan’er, had been forcibly transferred to the unlucky bandit whose vitality was drained.
He lay collapsed in the corner, his body shriveling and blackening like a torn sack.
“Ahh…”
Liu Meimei inhaled deeply, looking down at her now smooth, plump arms.
Feeling the surge of power within, her lips curled into a satisfied smile.
But that satisfaction lasted only a moment.
From the depths of the dungeon came a clamor of footsteps and rough shouts: “Quick! Grab your weapons! The gates! Flying Eagle has broken in!”
“The Chief can’t hold out!”
“Fifth Mistress says everyone go help at the gates!”
Fifth Mistress?
Help?
Liu Meimei’s pupils narrowed, fury blazing through her veins.
With a crash, her muscles swelled like iron, and the remaining tough chains snapped apart, stone chips raining down!
She strode to the iron bars, reached through, and grabbed a bandit by the nape, yanking him to the bars.
“Ah! Are you—are you Fifth Mistress?”
Seeing that demonically beautiful, ghastly face behind the bars, the bandit nearly lost his soul.
“Speak!”
Liu Meimei’s voice was raspy. “What are those bastards shouting outside?”
“F-Fifth Mistress… up the mountain, fighting started!”
The bandit’s teeth chattered. “Flying Eagle and the other three… besieging the Chief!”
“I am the real Fifth Mistress!”
Her voice shot up, “That damned pretty boy dares use my face?!”
“I’ll skin you alive, rip out your sinews, gnaw your bones inch by inch, make you wail for eternity in the underworld!”
Her words still echoed in the dank dungeon as her figure flashed out.
In the warehouse,
Wen Changning eyed the piles of stolen goods. She didn’t rush to rummage through; instead, she circled the shelves:
Grain sacks stacked deep within, protected from damp; medicinal herbs wrapped in oilcloth on middle shelves; weapons close to the door for easy access.
She decided to pack the herbs first—light and essential for the people of Qingxi.
Next trip, haul the grain; weapons last.
With her plan clear, she began packing.
Yet, one trip wouldn’t be enough. She’d need several runs.
Just then, a faint sound caught Wen Changning’s attention.
“Who’s there?”
Before the words were out, she shot forward like an arrow, a short blade sliding from her sleeve.
A cold flash sliced through the darkness, aimed deliberately half an inch off target.
She was wary but not lethal, leaving room for negotiation.
Without flourish, she thrust directly toward the shadow.
“Clang!”
A sharp metallic ring resounded, echoing through the warehouse.
From the darkness, a faster streak of light flared.
At the critical moment, it precisely parried Wen Changning’s strike.
A tall figure spun out like a phantom.
Xiao Heng’s moon-white brocade swept a graceful arc through the gloom, the silver python embroidery at his cuff shimmering briefly before vanishing into shadow.
As their figures crossed, they tangled like lightning.
The forceful wind stirred thick dust from the floor.
Wen Changning’s attacks were fierce, but she avoided dense shelves, fearing damage to the goods.
She would not cut off the people’s lifeline.
The hidden figure moved with uncanny skill, weaving between shelves and sacks, his steps floating with a deadly chill.
Every block and counter bore a probing, superior air—powerful but restrained.
A flash of surprise crossed Xiao Heng’s eyes: This woman’s moves are ruthless but not reckless, each strike avoiding the shelves; clearly, she’s protecting the goods.
Not like the Crown Prince’s men, who only seize treasures with brute force. What is she after?

Xiao Heng’s cold voice sounded, “Who sent you?”
“And who sent you?”
Wen Changning raised her brows. “Sneaky rat! You want a share of Black Wind’s ‘gold and silver mountains’?”
She recalled the numb stares and frail forms on Qingxi’s streets.
Her gaze darkened. Everything here had been stolen from Qingxi; it must be returned whole.
Anyone who tries to interfere…
Xiao Heng’s aura shifted in the shadows.
Gold and silver mountains?
She’s putting on a show!
If it were truly for wealth, her attack wouldn’t have held back, nor would her eyes show disdain for “gold and silver mountains.”
She seemed to be guarding something.
“Who sent you?”
Killing intent flickered in Xiao Heng’s eyes.
This woman’s skill is impressive, her mind sharp—
Was she sent by the Crown Prince or the Prime Minister?
Clearly, the treasure map is a juicy prize, even hidden pieces like her have been deployed…
With this thought, a deep, hidden ruthlessness crossed Xiao Heng’s eyes.
If she was an enemy’s agent, she could not be allowed to leave alive.
Their figures shifted swiftly in the gloom, sparks flying.
A thunderous crash—
Wen Changning was thrown against a heavy crate by a powerful force; her opponent also staggered back.
As Xiao Heng retreated, his elbow struck a corner of the stone wall—solid, but oddly constructed.
“Crack! Crack-crack!”
Inside the wall, a series of metallic clicks sounded.
Both faces changed.
Their fight paused instantly.
Then—
The struck wall collapsed inward, splitting open a thin gap.
“Rumble!”
The scraping stone screamed like a beast, shaking the warehouse.
The crack widened, and a heavy stone door slid open with awkward slowness.
A dense, overwhelming stench of blood rushed from the gap, sickly sweet and rotten.
At the same time, a sinister dark red light burst forth, chilling to the bone.
It wasn’t firelight, but the hue of blood from a deep wound.
Wen Changning’s cheeks glowed crimson.
Xiao Heng’s moon-white robe and handsome profile were bathed in that eerie bloodlight.
Inside—
A vast underground chamber was revealed.
Wide dark stone troughs, like the veins of a beast, twisted across the floor and walls, forming a vast, arcane pattern.
At this moment, every trough flowed with thick blood.
More shocking were the masses along the troughs—
Countless people.
Iron chains bound their twisted bodies to the troughs, making them part of the array.
Men, women, children—their faces withered and gray as bark, their sunken eyes hollow with numbness.
Fresh wounds had been cut deliberately into their limbs.
Children’s slender arms bore deep gashes; youths’ legs, girls’ necks…
All alike: warm blood flowed into the mysterious pattern.
The sudden noise and light made them lift their heads.
Those hollow eyes turned to Wen Changning and Xiao Heng.
Wen Changning knew that numb gaze—from Qingxi’s refugees.
“Are you… here to save us?”
Someone spoke from the crowd.
Then, a hysterical scream rang out, “Ah! It’s Liu Meimei!”
A twitching woman in the corner shrieked, “Poisonous witch! May you die a terrible death, struck by lightning!”
A weak tremor spread through the room.
“Liu Meimei! Get out! Go to hell!”
“Black Wind beasts, none of you will escape, we’ll haunt you even as ghosts!”
“I am not Liu Meimei,”
Wen Changning’s throat tightened; her voice was small, swallowed by the curses.
Her gaze swept over the twisted, frail faces.
She felt no resentment at the abuse, only deeper hatred for Black Wind Stronghold.
Those beasts had caused all this.
Only Xiao Heng noticed, his eyes clear with understanding.
She truly had a purpose!
Wen Changning’s gaze fell on a small body.
Waxen skin, hollow cheeks, dark festering wounds on his limbs, a deep gash across his neck.
Her throat clenched painfully. “Tigerhead?”
Tigerhead…
Aunt Zhang’s beloved grandson, carried through the streets every day.
She had watched him grow up…

At that moment, Wen Changning’s resolve to bring them home surged to its peak.
Tigerhead’s tiny ears seemed to catch his name.
His stiff eyes, ever so slowly, turned toward the voice.
Wen Changning took a deep breath, suppressing the agony in her chest, and raised her voice.
She knew Tigerhead missed his grandmother’s tofu pudding most—her only way to reach him:
“Tigerhead, do you still want to eat your grandma’s steaming tofu pudding every morning?”
Silence.
Tigerhead’s dust-covered eyes contracted sharply.
Then—
Two beads of blood, like soybeans, slowly welled from his shriveled eyes.
Xiao Heng’s throat moved: She knows this child?
And could mention “tofu pudding,” such a homely detail.
Which faction in the capital would send a woman versed in the people’s daily lives?
Her background was indeed intriguing…
The curses halted abruptly.
Only the low moan of the blood trough echoed through the chamber.
All the despairing, hateful eyes fixed on the glaring blood tears, then turned to Wen Changning’s face.
Shock and bewilderment collided silently in the dead air.
“You… you aren’t Liu Meimei?”
A gaunt man rasped, trembling, voicing everyone’s horror.
Wen Changning spoke clearly: “I am here to kill all the bandits! To bring you home!”
“Home”—the word struck the stagnant despair like a red-hot iron spike.
Whoosh!
Irrepressible joy and sobs of survival erupted in the crowd.
A gentle light rekindled in those dead, fish-like eyes.
Just as that spark began to flicker—
“It’s useless…”
From the shadows,
A dry, hollow voice drifted, snuffing out the flame.
An elder curled in the deepest darkness, nearly blending with the moldy air. “None of us can leave!”
His twig-like fingers trembled, pointing to a deep wound at his neck: “See this? It’s the eye of the array.”
His cloudy gaze swept over Wen Changning, then the surrounding hopeless eyes:
“The whole warehouse… is a living altar, the heart of the mechanism array!”
“These wounds feed blood to the array, fostering its evil. If we leave, our blood and breath will drain—we’ll die!”
His words, light as air, dragged every newly kindled heart into an abyss.
The last glimmer died.
Deeper silence drowned the sobs.
Wen Changning’s chest heaved; she looked at the numb eyes once more.
She thought fast: The elder said “leave and blood drains”—if she could stop the bleeding first, then break the array!
Shhh!
A sharp, icy light silently split the darkness, breaking Wen Changning’s train of thought.
Its source lay deep in the shadows among the chained people.
All blinked instinctively at the dazzling silver.
The corner shadows dissolved, and a figure stepped calmly from the blood-stained floor.
His moon-white brocade, untouched by filth, made him stand out in this squalor.
The air seemed to freeze as his robe stirred.
His voice was cool and clear, but carried an undeniable authority:
“Do not worry.”
His smile deepened, every word distinct, “This prince can break this array.”
Prince?!
Imperial blood!
Instinctive reverence gripped everyone.
A fleeting surprise crossed Wen Changning’s face.
Xiao Heng’s expression remained unchanged; he caught her appraising gaze.
There was curiosity, but no servility—much more pleasing than the women in the capital who bowed at his sight.
He met her gaze openly, neither avoiding nor hiding.
No one saw the momentary, scorching surge in his eyes.
Ancient mechanism array!
Beneath its core, secrets must lie!
The legendary treasure map, carrying the empire’s fate, was finally within reach.
This journey from the capital would not be in vain.
His smile grew deeper, slower; the blood-streaked pattern beneath his feet appeared in his eyes as a highway to supreme power.
Break the array, seize the treasure.
As for rescuing these wretched commoners…
His smile remained flawless, his gaze sweeping over faces rekindled with hope and tears.
But his attention lingered on Wen Changning: fists clenched, stubborn and alert, unlike any ordinary woman.
Xiao Heng gathered his thoughts, lips curling.
Winning the people’s hearts was also winning the greater cause.
This was the perfect opportunity to display the Duke of Suxin’s benevolence.
As for—
This woman, not a pawn of the Crown Prince, could be kept.