Western Yan—a nation built upon veins of profound-iron and lodes of gold. Here, the churning magma of the earth's core entwined with cold ore to forge a primal wealth. This riches had constructed a magnificent age of prosperity, yet it also acted as a bone-eroding poison, rotting the soul of this ancient empire from its very foundations.
Unlike the damp, serpentine chill of the Imperial Astronomer's palace in Great Qi, the residence of Mu Rong Xiao, the Fourth Prince of Western Yan, was cold, stark, and utilitarian, carrying the grim austerity of a military encampment. The great hall lacked superfluous silks; instead, the walls were adorned with the bleached skulls of ferocious beasts he had personally slain and a collection of legendary blades. Currently, he sat upon a high-backed chair forged from high-purity iron, listening to the latest intelligence brought by his hidden scouts.
"The Consort of Zhan is dying?"
Mu Rong Xiao's handsome, sword-like brows arched slightly. A cold, sharp light flickered within his eyes—deep pools of shadows. His long, powerful fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest, each strike producing a dull, metallic ring that echoed with calculated intent. His mind worked like a massive abacus, tallying the stakes of empires.
The Consort was a daughter of the Chu clan of Great Qi, and more importantly, the sister of the enigmatic Chu Yuning. Mu Rong Xiao knew well that the blood of the Chu family ran hot and stubborn; they were loyal to a fault, burdened by a sense of righteousness that bordered on foolishness. If the Consort truly perished in Zhanchuan, the Chu clan—already fractured by the suspicion of the Great Qi Emperor—would lose their final reason to remain at the Zhan Manor or serve the Great Qi throne.
"Heaven helps me..." he murmured, a glint of predatory ambition flashing in his eyes. Since the senile Emperor of Great Qi could not tolerate the Chu clan—that 'Divine Sword of the State'—then he, Mu Rong Xiao of Western Yan, would seize that blade himself and use it to pierce through this decaying, chaotic world.
"Is this news certain? You know the price of a lie," he said, his gaze like a torch, pinning the scout in place.
Feeling a pressure akin to a bird of prey hovering above, the scout lowered his head further. "Your Highness, the news is common talk in Zhanchuan. My investigation found that while the Manor is heavily guarded, no one has stepped forward to dispel the rumors. Coupled with the Prince of Zhan's nightly indulgence with his concubine... it seems the Consort's critical condition is genuine."
"No." Mu Rong Xiao let out a cold laugh, standing up to pace the hall with his hands behind his back. "If the Manor had rushed to clarify, it might have been a clumsy ruse for the Imperial Court. But for even the cautious Xiao Zhan to remain silent while his reputation rots... that makes this far more interesting."
He stopped abruptly, his tone turning fierce. "Regardless of its truth, I must go to Zhanchuan personally. Rather than letting Chu Yuning waste his life beside that sickly Prince, he should be under my command, helping me trample the world beneath my feet!"
He spun around, glaring at his trusted envoys, his voice booming like thunder. "I told you to bring Chu Yuning to Western Yan—how long has it been? You useless lot haven't brought back so much as a whisper! Do you intend to wait until Great Qi has slaughtered every last member of the Chu clan before you go to collect their corpses?"
"Your Highness, you mustn't!" Zhong Gui, the princely strategist, stepped forward in a panic. Having served Mu Rong Xiao for years, he knew his master became a 'mad tiger' once his mind was set. "Zhanchuan is Great Qi territory, a volatile border region. If your father, the Emperor, learns you have crossed the border in secret, he will suspect you of treason or colluding with the enemy. The trouble in the capital would be endless..."
"Suspect?" Mu Rong Xiao let out a short, mocking laugh. The mirth did not reach his eyes; instead, it revealed a bottomless chill.
"My lustful father is likely slumped on his Golden Dragon Throne right now, fretting over which newly-tribute concubine to favor tonight. His heart has room for three thousand beauties, fine wine, and rare treasures—but it has no room for his vast empire, and certainly no room for an 'unpleasant' son like me."
Mentioning the Emperor of Western Yan brought a look of profound disgust to Mu Rong Xiao's face.
"Furthermore, he has eight sons in total. Each one circles him like a peacock displaying its feathers to gain favor. If one Mu Rong Xiao goes missing, it might take three to five years before he even notices."
His thoughts drifted back to his childhood within those deep red walls. He had seen his mother wash her face with tears every day, longing for a shred of grace from the Emperor. He watched her transform from a radiant beauty into a madwoman who spoke to guttering candles. He had seen elegant consorts turn into monsters, clawing at one another for a mere reward. He loathed it all.
Western Yan was rich in iron; countless smiths and miners bled and sweated in the sunless depths to forge world-renowned armor and blades. Yet, because the land was mountainous and poor for farming, the people suffered from perpetual famine. The Emperor, the father of the nation, did nothing for his people's livelihood, choosing instead to wallow in gold and lust.
His brothers followed suit, rotted to the core. Especially the Crown Prince, who spent his days searching for rare treasures and beauties to offer the Emperor in exchange for hollow praise and a secure status.
Mu Rong Xiao would never forget that national banquet. To please the Emperor, the Crown Prince had brought golden-haired women from a distant land. They ignored all courtly decorum, dancing provocatively in sheer, transparent veils before the ministers. His father had clapped in delight, and the court followed suit with lecherous laughter.
That was no morning court of a powerful nation; it was a common brothel. On that day, Mu Rong Xiao had gripped his wine cup so hard his fingertips nearly shattered the jade. He had almost flipped the table then and there.
"Western Yan cannot continue to rot like this," Mu Rong Xiao tightened his fist, his thirst for power reaching a zenith.
If he wanted to change everything—if he wanted Western Yan to become the true hegemon—he needed more than just ore. He needed talents like Chu Yuning and the formidable military legacy of the Chu clan.
"Zhong Gui, speak no more. Pack the bags. Select six of the finest hidden guards. We depart tomorrow at the fifth watch." Mu Rong Xiao turned, his gaze as sharp as a blade fresh from the forge.
"Since the Emperor of Great Qi wants to drive the Chu clan to a dead end, then I shall give them a path to life."
He looked north, toward Zhanchuan. A fire burned in his chest.
"I am going to Zhanchuan. It is settled."
As his final word fell, his shadow stretched long under the flickering torchlight, looking for all the world like a Great Owl spreading its wings, preparing to soar across a thousand miles to dive into the mists of the Zhanchuan frontier.