Chapter Fifty-One: The Banquet at Hongmen

Although Li Zisheng was deeply curious about Ashina Canghe’s identity, his expression remained unchanged. He did not intentionally consult Mr. Zhong, who stood beside him, and who had by now locked his own emotions away, revealing nothing on his countenance.

"An old fox is a cunning beast. Deng Qing deserves to be outmaneuvered," Li Zisheng concluded. He knew that Deng Qing would suffer a severe blow from this. Li Zisheng had his own unresolved matters to attend to; having just conspired with Deng Qing to trap Mr. Zhong in the tent, he knew he had surely offended the man, so he needed to prepare his excuses.

However, he suspected that no matter what he said, Mr. Zhong would see right through his intentions. Mr. Zhong’s mind was truly unfathomable. Li Zisheng had once thought he understood the man, but now he realized that was merely a drop in the ocean—a glimpse of the mountain from a single vantage point.

Yet, he felt no regret. Since he had already taken action, he would not back down or wallow in remorse; such things were futile and inefficient.

Still, he needed to plan carefully. Neither Deng Qing nor Mr. Zhong were reliable allies. While he still needed to rely on their influence to avenge his mentor, Cheng Zhongliang, he had to remain vigilant against both of them.

"General Deng, I am not an unreasonable man," Ashina Canghe said. "However, the deputy leader of my troupe was a high-ranking officer of the Tujue, a man of both literary and martial talent—a rare talent who could hold his own against a hundred. For him to be killed for no reason by your Captain Zhang is truly unjust. I shall swallow this loss, but let me take those horses that went into a frenzy during your competition for a few days. I will tend to them, and once they have returned to a normal state, I will return them to you. How does that sound, General? I am an old man, and with age come many worries; I only hope for the best for the younger generation."

After speaking, Ashina Canghe feigned looking up at the sky, assuming the air of a compassionate man concerned for his juniors. Even Li Zisheng couldn't help but think that the old man was truly shameless. To take advantage of someone and then claim he was the one suffering—such thick-skinned audacity was rare in this world.

If Li Zisheng felt this way, Deng Qing was even more affected. Deng Qing, whose name meant "Green," lived up to it—his face turned a pale, sickly shade of green, and he looked thoroughly miserable.

But Deng Qing was a man capable of great things. After a few breaths, his expression returned to normal. He respectfully raised his hands in a salute, a faint, subtle smirk playing on his lips.

"Ha! In that case, I thank you, Master Ashina, for your generosity. I am not a man to quibble over trifles. Why don't we do this: since the literary competition has been postponed for two days, I shall host a banquet at the Lingzhou military camp tomorrow. I invite you to grace us with your presence. My tent will be honored by your arrival."

Deng Qing’s attitude had undergone a sudden, drastic shift. Such abnormal behavior surely concealed a trap. While Ashina Canghe remained unchanged, Mr. Zhong’s complexion paled.

Li Zisheng noticed this obvious shift and observed that whenever Deng Qing spoke, he would cast unconscious glances toward Mr. Zhong. The gesture might have been unintentional, but it clearly signaled that Deng Qing intended to destroy Ashina Canghe.

"A cornered dog jumping over a wall," Li Zisheng thought.

This was the flourishing age of the Great Tang, with nations arriving to pay tribute. Next year, Emperor Xuanzong was to perform the Fengshan sacrifices at Mount Tai—a critical moment. Nothing was more taboo than inciting bloodshed during this time. Should a war between nations erupt, even if the Tujue faction was currently weak, it would still plunge the people into misery. Thus, the Emperor had issued strict decrees to maintain friendly relations with neighbors.

If Deng Qing were to disregard the Emperor’s orders and incite conflict, the borders of Lingzhou would surely erupt in flames, and the great plan for the imperial sacrifice would be severely compromised. Li Zisheng felt a lingering sense of dread.

Mr. Zhong shared this anxiety, though what exactly he was worried about remained a mystery.

This was a matter of national importance, demanding careful consideration. Yet, Deng Qing spoke with such casual ease, as if he hadn't given it a second thought. To the casual observer, it seemed like an invitation to turn enmity into friendship, but the discerning eye could see the murderous intent in Deng Qing’s gaze—he meant to end Ashina Canghe’s life right here on Tang soil.

It was reckless and arrogant. Such an act would inevitably lead to war and suffering across the land of Lingzhou.

"Oh, then I shall not decline your kindness," Ashina Canghe replied. "However, General, please send those horses over sooner rather than later. Otherwise, even after a lifetime in the saddle, I fear I will be unable to train them."

"Hmph. I shall await your arrival at my tent tomorrow, Master Ashina." Deng Qing flicked his sleeve and led his soldiers away from the Tujue camp without a backward glance.

The soldiers were solemn and orderly, ignoring the presence of the Tujue. Ashina Canghe, having achieved his goal, paid no mind to Deng Qing’s attitude and offered no flowery words in return.

Mr. Zhong did not leave, and naturally, Li Zisheng remained by his side. In Deng Qing’s eyes, Mr. Zhong’s status was highly sensitive. The fact that Deng Qing had not ordered Mr. Zhong to leave revealed his own hidden agenda; if Mr. Zhong remained, Deng Qing’s attitude upon returning would be highly ambiguous. It would be easy to find a pretext to harass Mr. Zhong, or even charge him with treason, and no one could argue against it.

Li Zisheng stayed because he still held some utility for Deng Qing, and he doubted the General would trouble him for the time being. By staying, he could protect Mr. Zhong, whose usefulness to him remained paramount.

Seeing Li Zisheng remain, Mr. Zhong offered a faint, surprised smile, though he quickly regained his composure.

"Master Ashina," Mr. Zhong said, his voice laced with agitation as he looked at the old man, "why did you accept Deng Qing’s invitation? You know full well there is a conspiracy afoot. As the saying goes, 'Xiang Zhuang draws his sword with his eyes on Pei Gong'—Deng Qing clearly intends to take your life."