Volume One: Flames on the Border Chapter Thirty-Two: A Display of Astonishing Skill

Murong Shao was the younger brother of Murong Kai, the second son of Murong Ke, Prince of Taiyuan of Former Yan. Gifted in both civil and military affairs, he was an outstanding figure among the younger generation of the Murong imperial clan. In He Yu’s eyes, between his hawk-like gaze and the predatory set of his jaw, Murong Shao wore an expression tinged with arrogance and a certain reckless insolence.

Peerless heroes, sons as fierce as tigers and leopards. While Murong Kai and Murong Shao were both renowned and formidable men, they still paled before their father, Murong Ke, Prince of Taiyuan of Former Yan.

Murong Ke was an exceptional statesman and strategist, the premier general among the Sixteen Kingdoms. At fifteen, he commanded troops in battle and, employing the “linked cavalry” tactic, captured and killed the legendary warrior, King Wu Dao Tian Ren Min—the very man who had enacted the infamous Hu extermination decree. (Historical records show that the Murong clan matured early; it was not uncommon for them to lead armies and seize power in their teens.)

Murong Ke combined literary prowess and martial skill, governed with unwavering loyalty and integrity, and wielded authority without selfish intent. He ruled Former Yan by virtue, bringing the realm to its zenith.

He himself became one of the few non-Han generals enshrined in the Martial Temple of the Tang dynasty. Of the sixty-four ancient and contemporary generals venerated there before the Zhenguan era, Murong Ke’s inclusion was a singular honor—his reputation dazzling.

He Yu, as if watching a film, recalled every detail of Murong Shao’s history in his mind, yet his face remained composed. He cupped his fists and saluted: “He Yu of Chen Family Fort greets Prince of Chenliu.”

Murong Shao nodded in acknowledgment but did not rise, lowering his head slightly. “I have long heard that Officer He is a young hero. I did not expect you to be so youthful—your reputation is well deserved.” Though courteous, his tone betrayed open skepticism; he clearly did not believe He Yu was as capable as rumored.

Confident in his own status, Murong Shao, after these formalities, turned away from He Yu and addressed Chen Jing, barely sparing He Yu a glance.

He Yu was unperturbed; after all, their stations were worlds apart. It was hardly surprising that a Prince of Later Yan would look down on a junior officer from Chen Family Fort.

He found his place and sat down. A gentle voice reached his ear: “I don’t know where this prince hails from, but what airs he puts on—it makes my blood boil.” The words, spoken with indignation, belonged to Chen Qingyun seated beside him.

He Yu and Chen Qingyun exchanged a smile and a nod, understanding each other without a word.

Once everyone was settled, a few pleasantries were exchanged. Murong Shao’s expression grew solemn. “Usurper Wei has acted insolently. His Majesty intends to dispatch a great army in retribution. My brother and I have stationed our forces at Yanmen for over five months now. I trust you, Master Chen, are aware of this?”

Uncertain of Murong Shao’s intentions, Chen Jing replied politely, “I have long heard of both princes’ encampment at Yanmen. Yet, affairs at the fort have been tumultuous, and with Tianxiong Stronghold harassing us, I have not had the chance to call upon you. That Your Highness should come in person leaves me deeply honored and apologetic for my lapse.”

Murong Shao, pleased by Chen Jing’s deference, shifted the topic. “Well said. Tianxiong Stronghold has disrupted local order, flouting the law. I have advised my brother to deploy our army and crush them in one blow.”

“To think that Tianxiong Stronghold, blind to its own limits, would dare attack Chen Family Fort—its destruction was inevitable, the will of heaven, surely.”

Chen Jing thought to himself, “Now we reach the heart of the matter. Murong Shao has come on account of Tianxiong Stronghold, but by his tone, he clearly has no intention of avenging them.”

It was well known that Tianxiong Stronghold’s backing was the Yanmen garrison. Only by leaving this unspoken could one remain friends, so Chen Jing feigned ignorance. “Thanks to the court’s blessings and divine protection, Chen Family Fort survived the ordeal and weathered the crisis.”

Murong Shao laughed heartily. “Master Chen is too modest. In my view, not only did you come through unscathed, but profited greatly. The lands left behind by Tianxiong Stronghold alone must amount to hundreds of thousands of acres. The fort is now stronger than ever.”

He spoke the truth. Chen Jing could not deny it, so he replied, “Your Highness jests. All under heaven belongs to the sovereign; all within its borders are his subjects. Should Your Highness require anything, I shall obey without question.”

Murong Shao laughed again. “Master Chen is indeed astute. I have brought you a gift—please, all, take a look.”

He clapped his hands, and two Xianbei officers carried in a square wooden cage draped in black cloth, setting it in the center of the room.

With a signal from Murong Shao, one officer yanked away the cloth.

A gasp swept the assembly. Seated cross-legged inside the cage was none other than Diao Bao, once the high and mighty master of Tianxiong Stronghold.

Diao Bao sat with legs folded, his clothes in tatters, his body bloodied, wrists and ankles shackled, eyes closed, hair trembling, his breath ragged. That a once-mighty warlord should be reduced to this was truly astonishing.

He Yu thought, “Rumor had it that Diao Bao’s lair was destroyed, his followers scattered, and in desperation he sought refuge with Murong Kai, only to be swallowed whole. His fate was unknown—so the rumors were true; he has indeed fallen into Murong Kai’s hands.”

Murong Shao, brimming with pride, said to Chen Jing, “Diao Bao was your lifelong nemesis. Is this gift not to your liking? Please accept him.”

Chen Jing gazed at Diao Bao in the cage, his expression unreadable. He cupped his fists. “Such generosity from Your Highness—how can I ever repay you?”

With a wave of his hand, attendants from the fort carried the cage away.

Murong Shao waved dismissively. “Master Chen is quick to act. I shall be frank, then: I have come for two reasons. First, to return your enemy Diao Bao to you. Second, I wish to borrow a few of your warhorses. Once victorious, I shall repay you double.”

Warhorses were Chen Family Fort’s most vital resource—one could never have too many. Chen Jing would have preferred not to lend a single one, but since Murong Shao had asked, an outright refusal was unwise. He probed, “At Your Highness’s command, Chen Family Fort will comply. May I ask how many horses you require?”

Murong Shao glanced about, raised two fingers, and declared in a tone that brooked no argument, “Two thousand. The army is about to move out; we are short of horses. Without two thousand, we cannot make up the numbers.”

At this, murmurs rippled through the hall. Everyone present knew the fort’s resources—two thousand horses was nearly their entire stock. To lend them was akin to Liu Bei’s borrowing of Jingzhou—once gone, never returned. It amounted to a gift.

Chen Family Fort’s victory over Tianxiong Stronghold had hinged on their cavalry. To part with two thousand horses would be to strip the fort of its fangs and claws, leaving them weaker than a sickly cat. Such self-crippling was unthinkable; no one would agree to it.

Sure enough, Chen Jing’s face darkened. “Your Highness jests. Every horse in the fort, counted together, might not amount to two thousand.”

Murong Shao pressed on relentlessly, giving Chen Jing no room to maneuver. “Oh? Then, Master Chen, how many can you spare?”

Cunning as ever, Murong Shao had asked an exorbitant sum, intending to settle for less, boxing Chen Jing into a corner.

But Chen Jing would not be trapped. After a quiet word with Steward Li, he replied, “The fort has just endured war; morale is unsettled. I have conferred with Manager Li—Chen Family Fort is willing to present Your Highness with two hundred warhorses as a gift. Will that suffice?”

At this, Li added, “These two hundred horses are freely given—no need for Your Highness to return them.”

Chen Jing and Li sang in harmony, not only slashing the number but turning the loan into a gift—saving face as well as substance.

Murong Shao’s face darkened with anger. He snorted coldly, “Master Chen, your eloquence is impressive, but your parsimony excessive. Refusing small favors invites great disaster. I urge you to reconsider.” He had expected a compromise of at least a thousand; never did he imagine they would offer only a tenth.

It dawned on him that, for all Chen Jing’s humble words, he truly did not regard him highly. Enraged, he resorted to threats.

Chen Jing was not one to be cowed. “I appreciate Your Highness’s kindness, but I truly cannot spare more horses. I am beset by affairs and must take my leave.” With that, he rose, saluted, and turned to go.

Humiliated, Murong Shao sprang to his feet and swept the room with his eagle gaze. Fixing his eyes on Chen Qingyun, he declared, “Since Master Chen is so resolute, I shall report everything to my brother as it is.”

“Chen Family Fort has stood for a hundred years—no easy feat. Should you make a single misstep and bring ruin upon yourselves, not only will everyone here perish, but these fair ladies may well become slaves to others. I urge you to think twice. I take my leave.”

Murong Shao’s arrogance was unbridled; his words treated everyone as if they were nothing.

Chen Qingyun’s face flushed with anger. She retorted, “Where does this braggart come from? Does he think Chen Family Fort is a place one comes and goes as he pleases?” As she spoke, she drew her sword, ready to block Murong Shao’s path.

Murong Shao stood with hands behind his back, utterly unafraid. He sneered, “Since the lady wishes to spar, I am happy to oblige. General Chilu, let them witness the skill of our Xianbei warriors.”

He Yu had already noted the giant standing behind Murong Shao—a man easily nine feet tall, waist as broad as ten spans, with fierce eyes and a bristling beard. He seemed a god in golden armor.

By modern measure, He Yu judged the man to be just over two meters tall—a veritable giant, surely a man of Herculean strength.

General Chilu, whose name was Chilu Bi, was Murong Shao’s personal guard. Hearing his master’s summons, he answered and strode to the center of the hall.

With events unfolding so swiftly, Chen Jing halted and watched Chilu Bi.

Chilu Bi looked around arrogantly, then drew four war bows—one from each of four officers’ quivers—stacked them together, gripped them in his left hand, and drew with his right.

Creak… creak… creak… The sound of straining wood and taut sinew filled the air as Chilu Bi’s face twisted with effort, a rumble escaping his throat. All present were aghast. Each bow was a four-dan war bow; for an ordinary soldier, drawing one was a feat. To draw four at once was almost beyond belief.

“Hei!”

Crack!

Like thunder in the air, Chilu Bi gave a mighty shout, and all four bows snapped at once.

He flung the broken bows aside, panting, his face alight with pride. The men of Chen Family Fort felt a wave of defeat and fear, stunned into silence.

Li Jun, famed for his strength, knew he could barely draw three such bows at once, and breaking them was impossible. He adored Chen Qingyun and longed to defend her, but lacking the strength, he was left silent and crestfallen.

Murong Shao laughed coldly at Chen Qingyun. “Forgive me for alarming you, my lady. We take our leave, General Chilu, let us go.” Head held high, he moved to depart.

“Wait!”

“Your Highness, please stay!”

Murong Shao halted, surprised to see He Yu speaking. “What is it, Officer He? Do you wish to try your strength?”

He Yu did not answer. He stretched out his hand, and attendants brought him six four-dan bows.

A faint, cold smile played on He Yu’s lips. He centered himself, summoned his inner energy, channeling it into both arms.

With his left hand he gripped all six bows, right hand on the string. Without any flourish, his joints crackled, and with a crisp snap, all six war bows broke and fell to the ground.