Chapter 53

The Du Gu tribe.

The moonlight was dim, but the Du Gu tribe’s encampment blazed like a fire, illuminating the darkness.

Inside the great tent, the Du Gu elders danced an ancient steppe ritual around a golden figure.

The air mingled strange incenses with the peculiar scent of qicao herbs.

A thick pile of fur rugs covered the Sacred Maiden’s seat, now empty.

Du Gu Ru stood beside the outer bonfire, waiting for the outcome of the prayers within the tent.

“Sacred Maiden, you truly—”

Before the guest from afar could finish, Du Gu Ru cut him off sharply.

Today is not yesterday; Du Gu Ru is no longer that ignorant little girl, and the Du Gu tribe is no longer a petty clan dependent on the Po Liu Han tribe.

The speaker fell silent at once, waiting—even though he did not know what the Du Gu were divining.

The sounds inside the great tent finally ceased. The Grand Elder emerged and strode straight to Du Gu Ru. Meeting her eager gaze, he shook his head.

“What’s going on? How many times now, and still no result?”

Du Gu Ru, growing impatient, suggested:

“Why not try casting lots?”

The Grand Elder’s expression froze—not because he lacked skill in this art, but because he had already cast them.

“I cast three lots. Each one differed.”

Du Gu Ru wore a wry smile as she said:

“Could he have sprung from a crack in a rock?”

The Grand Elder sighed helplessly, but the guest could wait no longer.

“Sacred Maiden, what of the matter I brought you?”

Du Gu Ru turned to the envoy from Huai Shuo Town and sneered:

“Po Liu Han Kong Que wants me to hand over intelligence on Li Shuang and his household ministers?”

“Precisely!”

“On what grounds?”

The moment Du Gu Ru spoke, the envoy’s face turned ashen.

“I command three thousand cavalry. My tribe numbers thirty thousand souls, with over two hundred thousand head of livestock. Every day, capable men from across the northern frontier come to join us. What does he have?”

Times have changed.

Once, Du Gu Ru was the Grand Shaman, radiating an inexplicable mystique.

Now, that mystique carried an additional edge of terrifying authority.

“Po Liu Han Kong Que commands barely ten thousand men—unless you count the townsfolk of Huai Shuo who are merely pretending loyalty. He wants me to be his spy? Does he even deserve it?”

Hearing her mockery, the envoy instinctively threatened:

“But Sacred Maiden, don’t forget—your sister and half our people are still in our hands.”

The naked threat did not frighten Du Gu Ru. She laughed.

In the night, a flash of cold light.

The curved blade sheathed, as if nothing had happened—yet the man who stood moments before now lay dead.

The envoy had never imagined this delicate-looking girl wielded such swift, flawless bladecraft.

Du Gu Ru stared at the envoy’s corpse without a word. Her Grand Elder grew uneasy.

“Now we’ve torn the veil completely from Po Liu Han Kong Que. I fear your sister and our people there will suffer.”

In the long night, the Grand Elder could not see Du Gu Ru’s face, but after a long silence, her voice came—soft with sorrow, yet utterly resolute:

“In this chaotic age, how many heroes have fallen? We women are lucky just to survive. All I can do now is trust her.”

Her words carried sorrow, but Du Gu Ru shook it off quickly.

“Since divination gave no result, then choose one. Let every tribesman know: Li Shuang is the ally we can rely on.”

The Grand Elder hesitated—not because he had never done such a thing, but because he doubted her choice.

“Sacred Maiden, why him? We have other options—across the Hebei region…”

The Grand Elder spoke with meaning. Du Gu Ru answered simply, without a moment’s thought:

“He’s good-looking. I find him pleasing. Is that not enough?”

“I fear Li Shuang does not wish to be our ally—he wants to swallow us whole.”

In the night wind, a long robe concealed the girl’s slender form as she walked slowly toward the great tent, her voice carrying a hint of anticipation:

“Then let’s see if he has the teeth for it.”

A small room now held a great many people.

At their head was Fei Mou, General Who Assists the State under Li Chong.

“General, we cannot let this continue. Li Shuang and his Han followers have already mounted our heads.”

Fei Mou looked troubled.

“What good is telling me? Li Shuang is the Grand Commander’s adopted son, the Pingbei General’s adopted brother, a scion of the Longxi Li clan. What can we, the neglected Xianbei, do?”

The moment he spoke, the room erupted.

“Longxi Li clan? He’s nothing but an unknown bandit.”

“He struts around like a lord and treats us as if we’re dirt.”

“Prince Guangyang was such a genius—he was secretly murdered by Li Shuang, forced to flee Hengzhou and live under house arrest.”

…

Facing the storm of outrage, Fei Mou repeated the same line:

“Telling me won’t help. Even if you’re furious, can you move the Grand Commander’s adopted son?”

At that moment, someone in the crowd sneered:

“If we can’t strike openly, then strike in secret!”

“What do you mean?”

“To campaign against the Six Garrisons rebels in Shuozhou, we must mobilize troops from Pingcheng and Ma Yi. We set a trap—let Li Shuang and all his Han followers be annihilated.”

Fei Mou tensed, glancing instinctively at the screen beside him.

“You’re mad. If the Grand Commander finds out—”

“General, don’t you see? Without Li Shuang and his troops, the Grand Commander will have no one left to rely on but us.”

“But don’t forget—the Grand Commander still has the Luoyang Imperial Guards.”

“The Luoyang Imperial Guards under the Grand Commander have lost heart after several defeats. The only real fighters left are Li Shuang’s thousand personal troops—what good are they?”

Fei Mou fell silent. He looked around; all others remained quiet.

“So you all agree?”

They nodded. No one objected.

“But Kuodi Gan and the others aren’t easy to deal with.”

“If Li Shuang is gone, what use are those few dogs? Then it’ll be our word that rules!”

Fei Mou nodded.

“Then we must act with extreme caution, plan meticulously, and never let this leak.”

“We understand.”

After finalizing their plan, they departed one by one.

The room grew emptier, but Fei Mou felt no relief—his heart rose to his throat.

He hurried to the screen, shoved it aside.

Behind the screen lay a small chamber.

There, Li Shuang sat on a chair, eyes fixed on him.

Fei Mou broke into a cold sweat and stammered:

“Third Master, you heard it all—this has nothing to do with me.”

…