Chapter 149 Reporting Back on the Mission Accomplished

Langcheng, the capital city of the Li Kingdom.

Soaring city walls, bustling streets, and row upon row of houses all demonstrated that this was a city on par with the imperial capital of the Han Kingdom.

At the very center, behind the tall gate tower, lay a vast and magnificent expanse of architecture that encompassed nearly half of the capital—this was the Inner City.

Situated in the eastern part of Langcheng, the Inner City housed not only the imperial palace but also the scattered residences of various imperial relatives, high-ranking civil officials, and top military generals.

None could reside within the Inner City unless they were figures of immense weight and influence in the Li Kingdom.

The Sima Estate was located within this Inner City, just a stone's throw away from the former estate of General Jingzhong. What a pity that the Huangfu family of General Jingzhong had already...

After three months of relentless, day-and-night travel, Sima Yi’s injuries had deteriorated drastically. With unkempt hair, blue-purple lips, and a stubbly, bloodless face, he had passed not far from his estate without even pausing to enter. Dragging his half-crippled body, he headed straight for the palace gates.

The gate guards, seeing that the emperor's favored deputy commander looked in such a wretched state, felt a surge of curiosity, yet they dared not stop him to question him and hurriedly let him pass.

Inside the Zixiao Hall, the Emperor of Li sat behind his desk, holding a vermilion brush and reviewing memorial reports. Below him, a man of about twenty-seven or eight, dressed in the uniform of an imperial guard commander, stood respectfully to the side with lowered head.

Not until he finished reviewing a scroll of memorials did the emperor toss aside his vermilion brush, look down at the man below, and laugh leisurely, "Did you not just say that Sima Yi, that young fellow, has returned?"

"Yes. Does Your Majesty wish to summon him?"

The emperor nodded.

The man turned and made a gesture to a young eunuch at the hall doors, who immediately raised his voice to call for the visitor.

Sima Yi, who had been waiting outside the hall for a long time, straightened his robes and walked inside with a solemn expression.

"Sima Yi, Deputy Commander of the Inner City Guards, pays his respects to Your Majesty the Emperor."

Sima Yi knelt in the center of the grand hall, performing the imperial kowtow.

"How was this mission handled?"

The voice of the emperor, who was over fifty years old, was deep and resonant, naturally carrying the inviolable majesty of royalty.

Prostrate on the ground, Sima Yi raised his head to report: "Your humble servant has not failed Your Majesty's trust. Although I failed to capture the scoundrels, I personally struck the young villain down into a sheer abyss. As for the old one, in order to save his disciple, he also plunged off the cliff. Your humble servant... cough, cough... your humble servant was caught on the branches of a cliffside tree for many days before escaping with my life. As for Guard Zhou and the others, they all... cough, cough..."

Sima Yi’s voice was hoarse, and he repeatedly massaged his chest and coughed. When he lifted his head, the emperor was startled at the sight of his face. Could this sunken-cheeked, haggard man who looked half-dead truly be his young and handsome deputy commander?

In his heart, he could not help but believe half of what was said.

The man standing nearby, however, remained skeptical, his eyes filled with doubt.

He simply did not believe that old fellow could die so easily.

"Lord Sima, everyone else died, yet you alone escaped with your life?"

Hearing such an interrogation, Sima Yi’s face flushed with an unnatural red. Daring not display anger in the emperor's presence, he suppressed it and replied, "What does Lord Hu mean by this? Could it be that you do not trust me? Your Majesty, please look—this is the old villain’s personal weapon. He used it to wound Guard Zhou before falling off the cliff. At that time, I was hanging on the cliff and unable to rescue him... cough, cough. If Your Majesty wishes to punish me for this, I am willing to accept the blame."

Prostrating himself on the floor, he kowtowed once before straightening up, unfastening the silver sword from his waist, and respectfully presenting it with both hands.

The Silver Dragon Sword?

The emperor and the man narrowed their eyes simultaneously.

The Silver Dragon Sword was one of the ten legendary weapons of the Li Kingdom. Since it came into the possession of Mu Qingcang, he had treasured it deeply, and there had long been a saying: while the sword remains, the man lives; if the sword is lost, the man perishes.

Could it be that he was truly dead?

The man eagerly reached out, took the Silver Dragon Sword, stroked it gently, and then handed it into the emperor's hands, his lowered eyelids concealing the greed burning in his heart.

"A fine sword, truly a fine sword."

The emperor stood up, brandished the sword a few times, and casually slashed it toward a gold-inlaid white jade paperweight on his desk. The paperweight snapped cleanly into two halves as if it were slicing through tofu.

Filled with delight, the emperor burst into hearty laughter.

"Very well, rise."

The emperor's gaze toward Sima Yi grew much warmer, and he asked in a gentle tone, "Sima lad, are your injuries severe? Shall I have the imperial physicians examine you?"

"Many thanks for Your Majesty's grace."

Sima Yi did not refuse; he knew this was also an indirect test from the emperor.

Before long, an imperial physician arrived. When he pulled open Sima Yi’s robes, everyone in the hall drew in a sharp breath of cold air.

Sima Yi’s injury looked terrifying: a massive, dark-purple handprint was clearly imprinted across his chest, resembling a hand gripping his heart so tightly that it could take his life at any moment.

Cold sweat broke out on the imperial physician's forehead. This was a severe internal injury—how was it to be treated? Yet, not daring to admit his incompetence, he could only prescribe some blood-circulation-promoting and stasis-removing herbal remedies.

Seeing that Sima Yi had suffered such grave injuries yet desperately rushed back to the capital, the emperor nodded inwardly, highly satisfied with his loyalty.

After showering him with generous rewards, Sima Yi kowtowed in gratitude and withdrew from the Zixiao Hall.

"Brother Sima, wait."

Scarcely had he descended a few steps when someone behind him hurried over and called out.

It was none other than the man from the hall moments ago—his immediate superior, Grand Commander of the Guards, Lord Hu Feng.

"Lord Hu? I wonder what instructions you have for me?"

"Brother Sima has just returned to the capital. Why not let me gather a few brothers to welcome you back, so we can all gather together and offer our congratulations?"

"Lord Hu, with junior brother injured to this extent, what is there to celebrate? Besides, ever since returning to the capital, I have yet to step foot in my estate. My aging mother and uncle must be terribly worried. It is truly inconvenient, and I beg your understanding. Once my injuries have improved slightly, I shall certainly prepare a modest drink and personally invite Your Lordship to grace us with your presence."

"Since that is the case, I will not force the matter. Brother Sima, return and tend to your wounds well; you need not worry about official duties for the time being."

"Many thanks, My Lord. I shall take my leave."

The two exchanged a parting bow, and Sima Yi pressed a hand against his chest, slowly making his way out of the palace. The heavy stone in his heart finally settled.

Although Hu Feng was his immediate superior, the three commanders—one chief and two deputies—were all personally appointed by the emperor and answered directly to him. Coupled with the Sima family's influence in the capital, he had no need to curry favor with this man.

Yet Hu Feng was a rising star and the emperor’s current favorite, so he could not afford to offend him; he could only deal with him with superficial civility.

He would never grow close to him. In fact, far from growing close, he deliberately kept as far away as possible. Despite Hu Feng's polished appearance, tall stature, and scholarly demeanor, Sima Yi inexplicably sensed danger, always feeling as though those slender eyes were like a venomous snake seeking the right moment to strike.

Sima Yi's refusal was entirely within Hu Feng's expectations, and he did not mind it at all.

He knew they all feared him.

Feared him?

Hu Feng smiled. That, too, achieved his purpose.

Uninentionally, his thoughts drifted to that person—the one who had picked him up from the streets, raised him, and taught him martial arts. *Master, this is the last time I shall call you thus. From this day forward, your glory shall be inherited by me—no, carried forth to even greater heights by me. I shall make everyone in this world grovel at my feet. Everything you failed to achieve, I shall accomplish. Hahaha...*

The tall stone steps stretched downward, extending his unmasked ambition endlessly into an unreachable distance.

Back at the Liu estate, ever since Liu Qin and the others had been carried back, the household had been thrown into a state of frantic activity.

The elderly matriarch had wept until she nearly fainted. Had Physician Jiang not reassured her that the arrowhead had fortunately missed the heart by a hair's breadth, and that the immediate administration of the antidote had prevented any major danger, the matriarch might have collapsed on the spot.

That night, candlelight flickered in several corners of the sprawling Liu estate, burning brightly until dawn.

Beside the martial arts training ground, Mu Qing sat quietly inside the room.

The door was pushed open. He knew that the person he had been waiting for had arrived.