Chapter 73
“OKAY, OKAY, FINE. I’ll lie back down,” Wu Du grumbled, crawling back into bed.
Duan Ling finally relaxed. When they were resettled, he murmured in Wu Du’s ear, “What should our next move be?”
Wu Du didn’t want to listen to any more chatter. He rolled over so his back was to Duan Ling.
“Hey.” Duan Ling caught his shoulder and tried to turn him back. “We have to think of a way to fortify Tong Pass. If that army of twenty thousand attacks, the pass will fall.”
He put a hand over Duan Ling’s face and pressed him back down on the bed. “Why do you care so much? It’s none of our business.”
“But…”
Wu Du remained stubbornly silent, ignoring him. But—what was to be done about the letter he’d promised Helian Bo? They had to figure out how to send the news back to the prime minister’s manor. Would Mu Kuangda even agree to his terms? Regardless, now that they had this information, they couldn’t just kill Bian Lingbai and leave—it would throw the whole region into chaos. While their initial plan had been to kill the general, steal the evidence, and go, the Tanguts were already watching Southern Chen with covetous eyes. Killing Bian Lingbai now might precipitate a full-scale invasion.
Duan Ling closed his eyes. He might as well sleep—the whole thing was trouble, no matter how he looked at it. Not to mention they still had no tangible evidence that Bian Lingbai planned to rebel, though Duan Ling was certain he harbored such intentions.
Later, in the dead of night, Duan Ling felt Wu Du stir beside him. Gently, Wu Du lifted the arm Duan Ling had wrapped around him and placed it aside. Then, still so gently, he nudged Duan Ling’s leg sprawled across his waist and let it slip off to the side.
Do you need to be this careful just to go pee? Duan Ling thought.
Wu Du shifted over and soundlessly slipped out of bed. Padding catlike on his bare feet, he gathered the black clothes he’d put away earlier and donned them once more.
“Where are you going?” Duan Ling asked.
Wu Du jumped at the abrupt question.
“You have to take me with you,” Duan Ling whispered urgently. “Come on, take me.”
“It’s the middle of the night. Why aren’t you asleep?” Wu Du demanded.
“What about you?” Duan Ling could guess where Wu Du was headed. “Are you going to Bian Lingbai’s bedchamber?”
Wu Du hummed an affirmative, and Duan Ling commended him inwardly—it was a smart plan. Their enemy had just escaped, so although the residence’s security was heightened, Bian Lingbai himself would be at his most relaxed. After all, an assassin who missed his mark was sure to retreat, biding his time until the next opportunity.
Wu Du hesitated. “Don’t wear your boots; they’ll make noise. Let’s go.”
Duan Ling emerged in his snow-white underrobe, a comical contrast to Wu Du’s stealthy attire. Duan Ling wanted to laugh at what a conspicuous target they made in the dark. What was the point of Wu Du changing into black clothes like this? If they were caught, they’d be caught together.
Just as he was about to take a step into the courtyard, Wu Du scooped him into his arms and carried him along as he leapt onto the wall.
Duan Ling wasn’t a small young man, but Wu Du carried him effortlessly as he sped across the residence’s courtyards. Finally, he stopped at a corridor within the residence and set Duan Ling down. Wu Du eased a door open and ducked inside, catching Duan Ling’s wrist and dragging him along. They settled into a shadowed corner just as two night patrolmen passed by, thankfully overlooking the slightly ajar door.
As Wu Du scanned their surroundings, his ears twitched. He snaked an arm around Duan Ling’s waist and, with another mighty leap, propelled them up onto a beam above. From there, he swung out over the eaves and landed on the roof. Duan Ling couldn’t help but recall that night in Shangjing when Li Jianhong had taken him flying across the rooftops to save Batu.
Above the Qilian Mountains, the bright moon rises, traversing the vast sea of clouds.20
Beneath the full moon, a strange feeling sprouted within Duan Ling as Wu Du held him in his arms. It was as if his father had returned to his side.
Duan Ling let his head drop onto Wu Du’s shoulder and circled his arms around his waist in a warm embrace. Wu Du was speeding along the last stretch of their trek. The simple gesture startled him so much he tripped, tumbling off the roof with Duan Ling in a shower of clattering tiles. Duan Ling clamped his lips shut over a scream as they crashed into the yard below, the commotion immediately alerting the nearby guards.
“Who’s there?!”
“The assassin!”
Wu Du was ready to tear his hair out in frustration, while Duan Ling merely seemed confused. After they hid behind the garden’s rockery, Wu Du clapped a hand to his forehead, his face contorted in misery as though his hard-earned reputation had just gone down the drain.
The guards emerged nervously with their weapons in hand to walk up and down the corridors. They searched every nook and cranny but found nothing. Wu Du picked up a rock and hurled it in the opposite direction, far out of the yard. It drew a high, clean arc in its flight, then clacked loudly as it landed on a rooftop dozens of feet away.
“Over there, after him!” cried a guard.
Wu Du waited until everyone had left their area before whispering furiously, “What were you thinking?!”
“Nothing—what did I do?” Duan Ling replied, clueless.
More guards had appeared to join the search. Wu Du dashed through the corridors with Duan Ling in tow until they reached Bian Lingbai’s rooms. He glanced at Duan Ling, whose heart was racing, and put a finger to his lips. Two guards were stationed on either side of the main door, so Wu Du circled around to the back of the building and stopped under the bedroom’s window.
Tall, barefoot, and dressed all in black, Wu Du paused and cocked his head to listen for movement inside the room. Everything was quiet—when Duan Ling closed his own eyes, it was so still he felt he could hear the sound of flowers blooming in the silence of the night.
“I can’t believe he’s not in here sleeping this late at night,” Wu Du said, opening the window and hooking a leg over the ledge. Duan Ling followed and closed the window behind him. The room was empty, Bian Lingbai himself nowhere to be found. Perhaps he’d called an emergency meeting to discuss the situation after the assassination scare. The treasure map was gone from the table; he must’ve taken it with him.
Duan Ling groped around the floor for the tile they’d spotted earlier. “This one.”
Wu Du stepped onto the tile and looked up but saw no hidden mechanisms on the ceiling. He gestured for Duan Ling to get up, and together, they examined the walls, where they at last came upon a groove with what appeared to be scrape marks from something metallic. Wu Du drew his dagger, jabbing it into the hole, and the wall shifted, then slowly slid open.
“Found it!” Duan Ling exclaimed.
Behind the wall was a small chamber with barely enough space for one person. It housed several shelves of dense, saddle-stitched books that compiled conspirators’ names as well as great stacks of letters.
“Quickly,” Wu Du urged him.
Duan Ling picked out a book at random and examined it under the moonlight—it was a ledger listing the first character of a name followed by a number, all the way down.
“This must be a record of bribes paid,” he said. He didn’t know enough court officials to match names with the isolated characters. Duan Ling set the book aside, but when he moved to look through the letters, Wu Du stopped him.
“Don’t worry about the letters; we’ll go as soon as we find what we’re looking for. We can check the rest after he’s dead.”
Now that they’d discovered the hidden chamber, they could very well remove Bian Lingbai next—but doing so would introduce a host of new variables. If the Tong Pass Garrison mutinied, or if any of Bian Lingbai’s trusted aides knew about this chamber, it would spell trouble.
The pair were still rummaging through the documents when approaching footsteps sounded outside. Wu Du’s face fell. Moving silently, he pushed Duan Ling further into the hidden chamber and swiftly pulled the door in behind him.
Duan Ling was startled into silence.
Eyes closed, Wu Du counted the nearing footsteps. The instant they stopped and Bian Lingbai opened the main door, Wu Du shut the door of the hidden chamber, syncing the sound of both clicks with flawless timing.
“You tell me. What do you think we should do?” said Bian Lingbai’s voice outside the hidden chamber.
The tiny room was impossibly cramped, two people stuffed into a space that barely accommodated one. Duan Ling was pressed tightly against Wu Du. He couldn’t find anywhere to put his arms after trying to squeeze them in next to his body, so Wu Du lowered his head and allowed Duan Ling to loop them around his neck.
As their breaths mingled, Duan Ling felt the thrum of Wu Du’s pounding heartbeat against his chest, thundering like the hooves of a thousand-horse cavalry.
“I’ll depart tonight,” a grim, hoarse voice responded—Helan Jie. “The assassin won’t get far. I swore to avenge the loss of my hand.”
“What about the plan? You think you can just leave?!” Bian Lingbai exclaimed.
“Bian Lingbai!” Helan Jie’s raspy hiss was accompanied by an inkstone and brush-washer clattering to the ground, followed by the toppling of a chair. Voice laced with threat, he said, “Do not forget who sent me here.”