MEMBERS OF THE LITERATI who wished to lambast someone often condemned them as shameless, corrupt, despicable, or a scoundrel. There was another type, however, who'd compare their targets to women or beasts. They'd say things like sniveling like a woman, ridiculing them as weepy and feminine. To most, being equated with the fairer sex was a humiliation.
Feng Xiao disdained such vulgar views. Once someone rose to his or Cui Buqu's station, everyone else in the world, whether man or woman, could be generally divided into two categories: friend or enemy, useful or useless. Those who were quick and adaptable, like Qin Miaoyu, might receive leniency. Su Xing, on the other hand, received nothing of the sort. When Feng Xiao made a judgment of character, gender never entered the equation.
But now he faced a tiny dilemma.
Was the cleanliness of his clothes and hair more important? Or his dignity as a man?
A real man knew where to bend. Just as he'd called Cui Buqu Daddy on that cliff without hesitation, Feng Xiao once again chose the first option with nary a second thought.
Thus the party remained a group of four, but the dynamics were somewhat altered.
To avoid being slowed down, they brought no servants—other than the four of them, they merely hired two coachmen and one guide to take them to Qiemo. This also suited the fake identity Cui Buqu had fashioned for himself as Master Ye, a man from a small family without much to flaunt. It would look strange if he were accompanied by a gaggle of maids.
After leaving Liugong City, they headed west in three carriages. Cui Buqu's health was still fragile, so they traveled slowly; by the time they'd emerged from the boundless golden desert, everyone had swallowed nearly half a month's worth of sand. Only then did they spy the dark silhouette of city walls in the distance.
"Is that Qiemo up ahead?" Cui Buqu coughed twice and lifted the carriage curtains to look outside. A pungent smell assaulted his nose—the burning scent of desert sands, scorched by blazing sun and whipped by stinging winds. He started to cough once more.
A hand reached over and drew the curtains shut.
"Your lordship's health is poor; don't expose yourself to the sands. Your wife will worry if you fall ill again."
The speaker's words were measured, her voice deep for a woman yet exceedingly gentle. Upon hearing it, anyone would yearn to glimpse her face.
Anyone, that was, but Cui Buqu. He failed to turn his head at the sound of her voice, and his coughing increased in violence.
Watching his plight, not only did the speaker not stop, her enthusiasm seemed to grow. "Oh my, look at you, my lord! Your wife said just a few words and you've worked yourself up again! Once we enter the city, let's find an inn to rest in. Your wife will help you expel all that unhealthful internal heat."
Cui Buqu slowly turned his head, his face a perfect blank. "Expel heat how?"
"That's… That's… Travel makes such things so inconvenient; your wife can see how you've been denying yourself! Once we're at the inn, I'll be able to serve you well." Cui Buqu stared at her, and she flushed a rosy pink. "Must your lordship make me say it so directly? I'm still a lady, you know. If others hear, they'll take me for a dissolute woman!"
Cui Buqu felt his head throb; he rubbed at his temples. "There are no others here. Can you please speak like a human?"
"How is your wife speaking if not like a human?" the woman said, aggrieved. "They say after three years of marriage, even the famous beauty Diaochan would look like a sow to her husband. To think your lordship was this kind of man!"
This woman was tall and slender; even sitting cross-legged, her presence made the carriage rather cramped. Her glossy raven hair was gathered in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, a recently popular style. A glimpse of red braided string shone through, imparting a brighter glow to her already fair skin. Though her features weren't as soft as those of Jiangnan women, she was no less lovely for it. As the saying went, beautiful skin concealed all flaws—here was a beauty who could dazzle at the first glance, so much so that one would forget any other blemishes.
Unfortunately, Cui Buqu didn't appreciate this beauty at all. If he could, he would have kicked her right out of the carriage.
Qiao Xian was a true master of disguise. The women of the Western Regions naturally had more prominent brows and taller and sturdier figures than women from the Central Plains. She had not only deepened Feng Xiao's facial features to give him such a look, she'd even concealed the telltale jut of his throat. A great many details others might easily notice had all been hidden by her handiwork. No one seeing Feng Xiao for the first time would think him a man disguised as a woman.
After Feng Xiao had agreed to the disguise, he demanded Cui Buqu take the role of his husband, Master Ye Yong. Thinking it would be good for a laugh, Cui Buqu agreed—but before they'd been on the road half a day, his heart was filled with regret.
Alas, regret was one ailment for which there was no cure. He had no choice but to endure. Now that Qiemo was in sight, his ears would finally experience some peace.
The city of Qiemo was a significant link between east and west, but it was far from the Central Plains. The Sui dynasty had been established for only three years, and in that time, most of the imperial court's energy had been directed toward the Khaganate and Southern Chen. They had no thought to spare for this small oasis town lying in uncertain territory. Even so, last year the emperor had decreed that Qiemo be made an official county under his rule. He'd had a county office set up and sent a magistrate and soldiers to guard the city in a display of the might of the imperial court. The act sent a clear message: though Great Sui had yet to take the territory firmly in hand, they hadn't relinquished it.
More than thirty years ago, when the Western Wei dynasty had conquered the Kingdom of Shanshan, the king of Shanshan led his people in an exodus and settled down in Qiemo. They had established their own influence here in the intervening years. Merchants traveling between the Central Plains and the Western Regions inevitably passed through Qiemo, and many stopped there to rest. Over time, this important waypoint had become an arena where three factions vied for power:
The first was Gao Yi, the magistrate appointed by the Sui dynasty.
The second was Xing Mao, a descendant of the king of Shanshan.
And the third was Duan Qihu, a wealthy merchant from the Western Regions.
It was obvious how the first two came to power. Gao Yi had been sent by the Sui dynasty to stake a claim on the city. Though he was only a county magistrate, he'd brought soldiers to back him. Next was Xing Mao: though their kingdom was no more, the king of Shanshan and his descendants had held sway over the city for three generations. Xing Mao was his eldest grandson, and it was said that the Shanshan diaspora within the city revered him as their king.
As for Duan Qihu, he'd gotten his start as a common bandit. This man had roamed the Western Regions in his youth, plundering settlements and striking fear into the hearts of decent folk. Merchants passing through the Western Regions had two options upon meeting him: pay up or lose their lives. Later, Duan Qihu retired from banditry and settled down in Qiemo. His reputation, however, remained—no one dared underestimate the notorious former bandit of the Western Regions. Duan Qihu dabbled in business both aboveboard and underground, and his influence within Qiemo was deep and unshakable.
Compared to the latter two, county magistrate Gao Yi was no doubt the weakest.
Or so things stood when Cui Buqu's group entered the city of Qiemo.
People of all ethnicities—riffraff and common folk from every trade—mixed in Qiemo's busy streets. Such a bustling populace, combined with the complex interplay between three powerful factions, meant tiny Qiemo was even livelier than Liugong City.
"Dage, let's find an inn first and get some rest," Qiao Xian urged Cui Buqu upon passing through the gates. "It's too late in the day to travel any further. We can stop here for a couple of days before setting off again."
She was currently disguised as Li Cong, a family friend of the Ye clan, taking his wife A-Lian to Kucha to conduct business. Qiao Xian too was naturally tall and slender. When dressed as a woman, she appeared untouchable—celestial even—but right then, she was transformed. No one knew what she'd done, but she'd managed to add bulk to her slim frame, and her facial features had undergone drastic change. Her skin was now as coarse as the average man's, and there were even short whiskers on her chin. If she was to tell anyone she was a woman, they likely wouldn't believe her.
Yet the true art of disguise lay not merely in changing one's appearance, but in changing one's voice and accent, mannerisms, and actions to become another person entirely. That level of transformation was beyond what even Cui Buqu could achieve, yet Qiao Xian had done it. Her current accent was that of a born and bred resident of Liugong City.
She waited for Cui Buqu's nod, then instructed their guide to recommend a local inn.
"It doesn't have to be the grandest, but it must be the most comfortable," she said. "My brother's health is poor; he needs good rest." Her voice was brash and booming, clashing completely with her previous chilly demeanor. Even Feng Xiao, who'd grown accustomed to hearing her speak this way over the course of their journey, shot her another glance.
Had she still been that aloof and icy beauty, she could have expected to draw attention or even harassment. Now, she had no such problem. If anyone here was to draw attention, it wouldn't be Qiao Xian, who'd practically switched faces entirely, or the matronly Jinlian. All eyes would be on the fair lady Feng Xiao.
The guide wasted no time leading them to an inn. "You Hans won't be comfortable at the inns run by Kucha or Shanshan people. This inn has been open five or six years; I've guided several groups who stayed here."
Jinlian had passed through Qiemo on her way from the Khaganate to Liugong City, but she'd had guards to take care of everything then and hadn't troubled herself with the details. This time she was with Cui Buqu, so again she didn't bother with them. She merely nodded, ready to follow Qiao Xian inside.
"Wait," Cui Buqu said suddenly.
The rest of the group stopped and looked at him.
"What's this?" Cui Buqu pointed toward the inn's entrance, where a wooden sign was nailed to the door pillar. The sign was the size of an infant's palm and carved with a crescent moon, upon the bottom point of which was perched a swan.
Few people noticed such a small sign when entering the inn, and even if they did, they didn't think much of it. Within the Central Plains, plenty of guest houses opened multiple branches and marked them with their personal emblem. They'd simply believe this moon was a similar trademark.
The guide smiled. "You're from the Central Plains; you must know many inns use their own symbols."
Cui Buqu's expression was indifferent. "We asked for a comfortable inn, not an inn that will bring us trouble. That swan—you brought us to one of Duan Qihu's inns.1 Did his people bribe you?"
Foreign merchants were always susceptible to cons or other mischief, especially when traveling anywhere for the first time. Due to the complex politics of Qiemo, even booking an inn was tricky. Duan Qihu and Xing Mao had a pervasive influence that ran through the entire city. They controlled not only inns, but horse and donkey rentals, restaurants, and other necessities of travel. Jianghu wanderers had little to fear from such places, and various opportunists and criminals purposely chose to stay at Duan Qihu's inns—in this way, they could avoid the eyes of Sui officials as they trod in legal gray areas and peddled in various kinds of information.
But as for law-abiding merchants and common civilians, it would be best to avoid such establishments even if it meant staying at a more expensive inn. Cui Buqu's group had nothing to fear from this place, but they weren't looking for trouble—it was much better to keep a low profile. If they were to maintain their guise as honest citizens, there was no way they could stay in Duan Qihu's territory.
The guide hadn't expected Cui Buqu to be so knowledgeable. He laughed dryly. "Just trying to save you some money, my lord."
Qiao Xian stepped forward and clapped him on the shoulder. "Bring us to a safer inn."
The gesture was understated, but the instant Qiao Xian's hand landed, the guide felt a burst of excruciating agony. His face twisted, yet when he tried to cry out in pain, he discovered he couldn't make a sound. Only then did he realize how severely he'd misjudged these merchants. This group had seemed entirely ordinary and inconspicuous, but they were no easy marks.
"If you can't do it, we'll find someone else," said Qiao Xian.
The guide didn't dare equivocate; he nodded furiously, fighting back tears.