Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Appearance of Tang Tiannan

At this moment, Xiang Anran’s eyes were wide open, the pair of iron clubs in his hands barely an inch from Chen Zhuo’an’s forehead. Yet that single inch might as well have been an unbridgeable chasm—he could not bring himself to strike. A sharp blade was pressed against his throat.

It was a small flying dagger, but lethal enough to claim a life.

The dagger had pierced from the back of his neck, its tip emerging from his Adam’s apple. Xiang Anran’s eyes remained wide, as if he died without ever understanding what had happened. The one-eyed youth beside him suffered the same fate; a flying dagger jutted from his throat as well. Neither had time for last words—they perished in bewilderment, right there in the underground hall.

None of them could have imagined that the one who threw the daggers was actually one of the black-clad assassins they themselves had brought!

Chen Zhuo’an, leaning against the wall, stared at the assassin, breathing heavily. He managed to gasp out, “It was you…”

The change had come with the swiftness of a falcon’s strike, the tide instantly turning. With the sudden deaths of their two leaders, the black-clad killers looked at one another in dismay. Two, overcome by fear, turned and fled, but as they reached the corridor, the hiss of flying blades cut through the air. Both fell, daggers buried in their backs, twitching briefly before lying still.

The remaining assassins, realizing escape meant certain death with this deadly knife-thrower present, steeled themselves for a desperate fight— their only hope for survival. They no longer hesitated, charging at the knife-thrower and Min Rou, wielding their long blades.

But without their two commanders, the seven or eight remaining men were no match; Min Rou and the knife-thrower cut them down one by one, utterly annihilating them.

Now, the hall was strewn with corpses. All three of Min Rou’s party felt the weight of survival pressing upon them. Chen Zhuo’an, still leaning against the wall, coughed up another mouthful of blood and gave a faint, bitter laugh.

“It’s been a long time, Lord Mo.”

The assassin removed his mask, revealing a man in his thirties. He, too, smiled.

“It has been too long, Chief Chen.”

Min Rou stepped over to help Chen Zhuo’an up. He leaned against the wall, coughing twice again, and said, “That day on the street, the beggar who slipped me a note in secret— that was you too, Mo Yun?”

Mo Yun nodded. “It was me. I infiltrated Xiang Anran’s men and was the first hall leader to arrive in Yongle Town. But I could never find a chance to meet you openly.”

His expression darkened. “Xiang Anran watched me too closely. Even though I learned they planned to murder Fat Wang and Madam Hua, I could do nothing under his surveillance except try to get the message to you. Regrettably, it was too late—the news came too slowly, and I failed to save them. Their lives were lost in vain.”

Chen Zhuo’an’s face was ashen. “It’s all my fault—if only I were more capable, my brothers would not have died such terrible deaths…”

Min Rou, seeing his anguish, spoke softly, “Zhuo’an, don’t blame yourself too much. The moment we decided to follow you, we entrusted our lives to you. We do our best and leave the rest to fate; fortune and misfortune both defy our prediction.”

Mo Yun added, “That’s right. In my life, I’ve bowed to neither Heaven nor earth, but only to old General Zhang and to you, Chen Zhuo’an. We all drank the blood oath together; my life has long belonged to you. If one day you ordered me to die on the spot, I would not even flinch.”

Old Chu sat up despite his wounds, slapped his thigh, and said with a laugh, “Mo Yun, you’ve stolen all the good lines! What’s left for me to say? Come, tonight we must outdrink each other at the wine table!”

Before Mo Yun could answer, Min Rou frowned and said, “Third Brother, you’re badly hurt. You can’t drink before tending your wounds.”

Old Chu just chuckled. “Madam Chief, you don’t understand. Wine may be a poison, but it’s also a priceless cure! No medicine on earth can compare to a jug of strong wine. Give me eight or ten jars, and I’ll be as good as new.”

When Min Rou heard him call her “Madam Chief,” she blushed and spat, “You great oaf—never serious!” She stole a glance at Chen Zhuo’an, only to see he did not seem displeased. Their eyes met, and for the first time, Min Rou felt a gentle warmth in his gaze she had never known before.

Mo Yun coughed to interrupt, “This isn’t a place we can linger. We should leave first. Though we’ve wiped out Xiang Anran and his men, we still haven’t obtained the false imperial edict. It seems this matter will not be resolved so easily.”

He had just finished speaking when a voice replied from outside the hall, “The false edict, you say? It’s not that we didn’t get it—but whether it’s the one you want is another matter.”

Mo Yun’s face changed, and he looked warily toward the corridor. Chen Zhuo’an, however, relaxed a little, and smiled. “Brother Liang, your comings and goings are as mysterious as ever.”

Just then, a man and a woman entered the hall, side by side—Liang Yan and Tang Diexian. Liang Yan glanced around and joked, “Looks like you’ve finished up here as well, Brother Chen.”

“That’s right. When you disappeared, I figured you were after the false edict. Did you succeed?” Chen Zhuo’an asked.

Liang Yan gave him a calm look. “Fortunately, I did not fail. But whether this edict is what you seek, I cannot say.” With that, he produced a yellow scroll from his robe and tossed it to Chen Zhuo’an.

Chen Zhuo’an caught it and hurriedly unfurled it, only to stare in disbelief—the scroll was completely blank.

“How can this be… how…” He trusted that these two would not deceive him, yet he could not understand why the false edict bore not a single word!

All his hopes had rested on this edict. He had gathered like-minded brothers, toiled for years, all for this chance to bring down Li Hong, cleanse the court, and return the people to peace. Now, all he had gained was a blank sheet.

The shock was too much; his old wounds flared and another mouthful of blood spilled from his lips. Min Rou clung to his arm, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Zhuo’an, don’t be so upset. We can think things through again.”

Just then, Liang Yan’s face took on a peculiar expression. He frowned. “Perhaps there’s no need to deliberate further. Someone is here who can explain the matter of the false edict—he’s already at the door.”

He turned to the corridor and called, “Am I right, Tang Tiannan?”

The four in the hall stared at him in confusion, following his gaze to the entrance. Suddenly, a middle-aged man’s voice sounded from the passageway, “Immortal, your insight is unmatched—nothing escapes your notice.”

A sallow-faced, slightly stooped man emerged, coughing as he walked. It was Tang Er, the servant from the Laifu Tavern—Min Rou’s own man.

The sight was so astonishing that Min Rou blurted out, “What are you saying? Tang Er, you’re Tang Tiannan?”

Tang Er gave a wry smile. “Forgive me, madam. I have kept this from you for too long. I am indeed the real Tang Tiannan, and the false edict is in my possession.” He drew a yellow scroll from his robe and opened it before them. Chen Zhuo’an and the rest looked intently, recognizing at once Li Hong’s illicit decree condemning General Zhang to death. There was no doubt.

Tang Tiannan bowed to the group. “My thanks to you all. In toppling Li Hong, your contributions are unmatched. I will report everything to His Majesty when we return to the capital.”

Chen Zhuo’an gave a bitter laugh. “Since you possessed the edict and knew our situation, why not contact us sooner? We risked life and limb for a blank scroll!”

Tang Tiannan shook his head. “You don’t know Xiang Anran. He is a master manipulator. I suspected there was a spy among you. Had I revealed myself, the edict would not have remained safe. Only by delivering it personally to the Emperor can I be assured.”

Chen Zhuo’an exclaimed angrily, “So you just watched from the shadows, letting my brothers fight and die for a blank scroll?”

Tang Tiannan replied gravely, “Great deeds require sacrifice. When I stole the edict, I was willing to risk my wife and child. A few deaths are inevitable.” After a pause, he continued, “Besides, do you really think His Majesty is unaware of Li Hong’s ambitions? He simply lacked evidence and many old ministers supported Li Hong, so he turned a blind eye and allowed General Zhang’s death. But it was all worthwhile. Now with this edict as proof, Li Hong can be justly eliminated!”

Chen Zhuo’an, so full of passion moments before, now felt his heart plunge into an abyss. He murmured, “You’re saying General Zhang’s death was permitted by His Majesty himself?”

Tang Tiannan answered, “Indeed. General Zhang gave his life for the country—his name will be honored for generations.”

A fog of confusion clouded Chen Zhuo’an’s eyes. The general he revered above all others had not died on the battlefield, shrouded in horsehide, but had been killed by court intrigue. The Chujian Society he had founded was, in the end, nothing more than a pawn in the imperial power struggle. He remembered the days when eight brothers drank and swore an oath of brotherhood—what pride they felt! Now, most were dead or wounded. Gazing at the corpses strewn around the hall, he felt suddenly empty, as if the cause that had consumed him for so long no longer had anything to do with him.

Supported by Min Rou, he took a few steps and said quietly, “Xiang Anran and his lackeys are gone. I trust you, Lord Tang, know how to return to the capital. I will take my leave.”

Tang Tiannan called after him, “Brother Chen, won’t you come to the capital with me and receive your reward from His Majesty? You have earned it, and we could serve the people together.”

Chen Zhuo’an did not break stride. “No need. Please, Lord Tang, do not mention my name at all. I thank you.”

With that, he and Min Rou departed without looking back, Mo Yun helping Old Chu after them.

Only Liang Yan, Tang Diexian, and Tang Tiannan remained in the hall. Tang Tiannan bowed deeply to Liang Yan. “Thank you, Immortal, for your aid.”

Liang Yan waved him off. “No need for formalities. I have something to ask you.”