Chapter Sixty-One: A Plot Within a Plot

Time ticked by, minute after minute, as the clouds gathered and thickened. Just after midnight, the once-bright moon was completely shrouded, and the night grew as black as ink, obscuring all sight.

Within the royal tent of Pang Qidi, King of the Western Qiang, at the rebel camp, Pang Qidi and his confidant Mo Dake sat together, merrily drinking kumis and feasting on roast lamb.

At that moment, a towering man entered, his forehead wrapped in a bandage stained crimson with blood.

Seeing Riwo Buji arrive, Pang Qidi quickly asked, “Riwo Buji, has that wretched slave gone to seek out that brat Chen Ying?”

The name Riwo Buji sounded odd, reminiscent of a Tibetan name, but he was in fact pure Qiang. In the Qiang language, “Riwo” meant “mountain,” and “Buji” meant “child”—thus, “Child of the Mountain.” Of course, the Qiang had no written script of their own; their names were transliterated directly into Chinese characters by sound.

With a ferocious grin, Riwo Buji replied, “That wretch went to the Tang camp half an hour ago and has yet to return.”

Pang Qidi’s expression darkened. “Maintain strict surveillance on the Tang camp. Report every slightest movement truthfully.”

“As you command, my king!”

It was clear that Pang Qidi was loath to abandon the wealth he had painstakingly amassed. In truth, not only Pang Qidi, but even Mo Dake was unwilling to flee so ignominiously. Mo Dake knew full well that the Tang Empire was vast and their own strength paltry by comparison; drawn-out resistance would only lead to ruin.

However, the high officials and nobles of Tang desired Chen Ying’s death, and they had promised that if Pang Qidi killed Chen Ying, they would petition the emperor to pardon Pang Qidi and accept his surrender. Yet, it was likely that after the fact, Pang Qidi himself would be sacrificed to appease public anger.

Outwardly, Mo Dake was Pang Qidi’s right-hand man, but in truth, their paths diverged. Mo Dake’s greatest ambition was to live as a wealthy gentleman in Chang’an, with wives and concubines.

Sensing Pang Qidi’s reluctance to part with his fortune, Mo Dake suggested using Pang Qidi’s name as a decoy—pretending to break away and flee, luring Chen Ying into pursuit.

The only road from Shizhou to Mapan County was Bailong Gorge, a valley over thirty miles long that had once been the bed of the Bailong River. After an earthquake, landslides and debris had forced the river to change course, forming a dammed lake upstream called Clear Water Lake. The old riverbed became the dry Bailong Gorge.

Though it was a mountain gorge, if the dam at Clear Water Lake were breached, the waters would flood down the valley in a torrent. Should Chen Ying dare to enter Bailong Gorge, there would be no hope of survival.

Mo Dake laughed, “The bait has been cast. Now we need only wait to see if that brat Chen Ying will take it.”

“That brat tasted a small victory today by sheer luck. He’s bound to grow overconfident and never suspect that Bailong Gorge is the grave I have prepared for him!” Pang Qidi burst out laughing.

Mo Dake seized the moment to kneel and praise, “Your Majesty is wise indeed.”

Pang Qidi replied, “It’s getting late. Go and make the preparations!”

“Yes, my lord!” Mo Dake strode to a corner of the tent and dragged out a man curled up in a ball. The man’s body trembled as if stricken with ague, and he wailed pitifully, “Mercy, my king! Mercy!”

Under the lamplight, this man resembled Pang Qidi by seven or eight parts—the same chiseled features, yellow beard, and deep-set eyes, but he lacked Pang Qidi’s imposing presence.

Pang Qidi looked down at him arrogantly. “Obey, and you’ll live.”

This man was Rigudezi, a slave of the White Horse Qiang. His name, in translation, meant “Big Stone Bun.”

Rigudezi kowtowed repeatedly, like pounding garlic. “I’ll do whatever the king commands!”

“Good, as long as you listen.”

Pang Qidi shouted at several women in the tent, “Hurry up and dress him in the king’s armor!”

The women, who had long since been broken by Pang Qidi’s cruelty, rushed forward to clothe Rigudezi.

Soon, Rigudezi was outfitted in Pang Qidi’s lion-embroidered battle robe, pale purple armor shaded from light to dark, a helmet adorned with jiao-dragon patterns, a gilded saber at his waist, a quiver of white eagle-feathered arrows on his back, and a bow slung across his chest—cutting a most formidable figure.

For a moment, Pang Qidi was taken aback by the sight. Clad thus, Rigudezi was his mirror image. Pang Qidi murmured, “Sometimes I wonder if you’re not truly my father’s son…”

Mo Dake gave Rigudezi a shove. “It’s time for the king to move!”

Rigudezi quaked with fear, unable to lift his feet. Mo Dake hurried to drag him out, leading him to a tall warhorse outside the tent. He mounted “Pang Qidi” and led him out of camp.

More than two thousand Qiang wolf soldiers stood ready, armored and armed to the teeth.

Rigudezi attempted to sound commanding. “The army will march—”

But before he could finish, his gaze met Pang Qidi’s, and terror struck him dumb.

…

“I heard it with my own ears!” Wang Xiugu sobbed, “That old villain Pang Qidi is packing up his valuables, and the entire camp is in panic. General, send someone to see for yourself!”

“Oh?” Chen Ying replied indifferently, calmly raising his bowl and shoveling rice into his mouth.

Seeing Chen Ying so unconcerned, Tang Liuniang stamped her foot in frustration.

“General Chen, what are you doing?”

“Eating, of course!” Chen Ying shot her a look. “Can’t even eat a meal in peace!”

Tang Liuniang pouted unhappily. “How can you eat at a time like this? You should order the troops at once and wipe out the rebels!”

“Mind your manners! I don’t need you telling me how to command my army!” Chen Ying slammed his bowl onto the table. “Get out now, and don’t disturb my meal!”

“You—”

Tang Liuniang moved to tug at his sleeve, but a flash of cold steel stopped her—a Chen Ying bodyguard drew his sword and barred her way.

“Let’s go!” Tang Liuniang, fuming, dragged Wang Xiugu out of the tent.

Chen Ying acted as though he hadn’t seen them, continuing to eat in silence.

In truth, Chen Ying was not untouched by their words, but he was helpless. His soldiers had just lain down to rest after forced marches that had exhausted them. If he roused them now, not only would complaints abound, but it would also delay their recovery.

Wei Wen-zhong, looking anxious, said, “General Chen, what if Pang Qidi escapes? Then we’ll—”

“I understand your concerns, but—” Chen Ying set down his chopsticks and looked at Wei Wen-zhong. “No need to rush. Go and instruct Zhang Shigui’s unit to strictly monitor Pang Qidi’s camp and report any developments every quarter hour.”

“At once!”

Wei Wen-zhong left the tent to convey Chen Ying’s orders, dispatching Zhang Shigui to scout the enemy.