Chapter 48: The False Desk Part 1

“It seems your journey to Listening Moon Sand River was fraught with even more hardships than expected.” Sang Chencao wound her flexible sword back around her waist.

Feng Yun’ai weighed the umbrella sword in her hand. It wasn’t as sharp or rigid as Solitary Gall, but its strength lay in its concealment. Hidden within an umbrella, it was a weapon that could catch any opponent off guard.

Her expression was somber as she spoke in a low voice. “I was asking everywhere for the location of the Sand River. At first… perhaps I was too blunt. And because I refused to take off my veiled hat, I unintentionally provoked quite a few people.”

“Why didn’t you ask me? I would have certainly pointed you toward the right path without asking for anything in return,” Sang Chencao teased with a smile.

“We hadn’t met then. It wasn’t our time,” Feng Yun’ai replied. She wrapped the umbrella sword back up and slung it across her back, just as she had once done with Solitary Gall. “Some of those people were insidious and cunning, while others were outright vicious. I didn’t want to get hurt, nor did I want to waste time fighting them. After thinking it over, the only solution was to take their swords.”

“Then why didn’t you take mine?” Sang Chencao leaned closer, her eyes curved into crescents, shimmering with a mischievous glint.

Feng Yun’ai looked away. “Why don’t you ask yourself that?”

“I don’t know the answer. Why don’t you tell me, Xiuxiu?” Sang Chencao asked, deliberately pushing her buttons.

Feng Yun’ai’s voice turned cold. “Do not push your luck.”

Sang Chencao changed the subject immediately, her hand brushing against the other woman’s waist. The collision caused the short blades there to clatter. She chuckled. “So, you decided to beat them at their own game and pretend to be a descendant of the Blade Lending Sect?”

Feng Yun’ai gave a soft hum of affirmation. “The world has only a surface-level understanding of that sect. Since they have been in seclusion for so many years, their techniques are unpredictable. It’s not a persona that easily rouses suspicion.”

“You really are clever, Xiuxiu.” Sang Chencao wasn’t stingy with her praise. Though she was still smiling, the carefree air about her had diminished slightly.

Feng Yun’ai felt a hint of discomfort and asked stiffly, “Who was that woman just now? I don’t recall seeing her name in the Jianghu Records.”

The corners of Sang Chencao’s mouth dipped slightly. “That was Chen Jinsai of the Thousand Machinations Sect,” she said indifferently. “That old hag spent years in silence developing secret mechanisms. She has an incredibly eccentric temperament. She only made her debut in the martial world a few years ago, promptly founding her sect afterward.”

Feng Yun’ai nodded slowly.

“I don’t know how many years out of date that Jianghu Records Feng Rong gave you is. It’s ancient,” Sang Chencao added, her tone blunt.

Feng Yun’ai glared at her. “So what if it is?”

“I’m not saying anything bad about Feng Rong. I’m just saying the records are old.” Sang Chencao’s eyes crinkled.

Feng Yun’ai swallowed her annoyance. She turned her head, glancing at her companion out of the corner of her eye. Seeing no external injuries, she finally asked, “Weren’t you just investigating Zhou Gui? What did you find?”

Sang Chencao let out a cold snort. “Zhou Gui certainly didn’t come up the mountain alone. However, her appearance was strange. Her eyes were somewhat vacant, as if she were suffering from soul-loss syndrome—or perhaps it’s the Nightmare Art of the Borderlands.”

“The Nightmare Art?” Feng Yun’ai had read about it in books. The technique supposedly allowed one to control a person’s heart and mind, turning them into a literal shadow puppet to be driven at will.

In truth, the Nightmare Art wasn’t quite that mystical. It involved using knockout drugs followed by the manipulation of extremely fine silk threads to control the body; it wasn’t a true control of the soul.

This heterodox art originated in the Borderlands, though it had no direct connection to the Sun Chasing Cult. Originally, commoners used it for “corpse driving”—bringing the bodies of those who died far from home back to their ancestral lands—or for transporting dead livestock.

“Was there a Borderlander with her?” Feng Yun’ai asked.

Sang Chencao grew thoughtful. “I couldn’t see clearly,” she murmured. “The person was draped in a cloak, hiding their stature, with a hood concealing their face.”

“They certainly have something to hide,” Feng Yun’ai said with certainty. She paused, her confusion returning. “But that day on Listening Goose Peak, her expression was clear. She didn’t seem to be under the influence of the Nightmare Art, and there was no one around her controlling her. Though the records say those control threads can be extended for up to a mile.”

“Then it means she had a treacherous heart from the start and was willing to be controlled from the shadows,” Sang Chencao sneered.

“Since Zhou Gui isn’t in the Alliance headquarters, we can take this chance to break in.” Feng Yun’ai looked toward the scattered lights of the city in the distance.

Sang Chencao had been thinking the same thing. If they didn’t infiltrate now, when would they?

The headquarters of the Hantian Alliance was located at the foot of the other side of Listening Goose Peak. Rounding the mountain, the towering city walls immediately came into view.

The walls were lined with numerous weapon racks and even heavy artillery emplacements. However, the cannons were empty; the members of the Alliance were all martial arts masters, and such primitive siege engines were rarely needed.

This wasn’t exactly a journey to a familiar place, as Feng Yun’ai had never stepped foot inside before. At most, she was…

Bringing Feng Rong back to her old home.

Fortunately, the walls were unmanned. Whether it was a “Hidden Dragon” trap or sheer negligence, they managed to slip inside with ease.

Sang Chencao glanced behind Feng Yun’ai. “We can’t go to the coffin shop yet. If we spend time on that trip, Zhou Gui might descend the mountain before we’re done. Let’s find a place to stash Feng Rong’s body first. If we run into trouble inside, we won’t be able to look after her.”

Feng Yun’ai felt a bit lost. She was unfamiliar with the layout and didn’t know where a safe place for Feng Rong might be. Patrols were everywhere; nowhere seemed truly secure.

Sang Chencao pointed to a heavy copper chest used for storing ammunition. “The Alliance Leader will have to suffer the indignity of staying in that box for a while.”

Though loath to do it, Feng Yun’ai carefully placed Feng Rong inside.

The chest was large and empty. Perhaps because it had been idle for so long, it didn’t have any foul odors.

Once the body was hidden, Feng Yun’ai stood up uneasily. She turned to find Sang Chencao standing by a cold, lonely cannon, a mischievous, ill-intentioned smile playing on her lips.

Feng Yun’ai looked at her warily. “What are you planning?”

Sang Chencao pulled the half-burnt stick of incense from her sleeve. “If I use this to disperse the knockout drug, wouldn’t this entire Hantian Prefecture belong to us?”