Chapter Twelve: Negotiation

Ye Feng rescued Murong Yan and swiftly broke through the encirclement. Fearing pursuit from Wu Renfu and his men, he deliberately chose to move through the narrow alleys of the city. Thanks to his familiarity with the city’s paths, he soon left the pursuers far behind. Only after they could no longer hear the footsteps of their pursuers did the two find refuge beneath a bridge, pausing to catch their breath.

Murong Yan, still panting, asked, “Young Master Ye, I told you to escape quickly—why did you come back?”

The bridge’s cramped space forced Ye Feng and Murong Yan close together. The fragrance of the girl, delicate and intoxicating, made Ye Feng blush deeply; stammering, he replied, “Miss Murong... If we must die, we die together. If we live, we live together. How could I abandon you to flee alone? Besides, you are the orphan of the great Murong elder. Should anything happen to you, how could I ever face him?”

Murong Yan’s heart warmed at his words. She thought: If you risk your life for me and something happens, whom could I answer to? While thinking this, she said aloud, “Fool, if I tell you to escape first, you should escape first. Who asked you to rescue me? I have the skills to escape Wu Renfu myself. Your arrival only complicates things.”

Suddenly, she caught the heavy scent of Ye Feng and her cheeks flushed crimson. She turned her back, unwilling to let Ye Feng see her embarrassment.

Ye Feng, seeing Murong Yan turn away, assumed she was angry, and quickly apologized, “You are right, Miss. From now on, I’ll follow your instructions, and serve loyally at your side, as you wish.”

Previously, Ye Feng had hesitated to join Murong Yan, feeling her group lacked legitimacy. But after this battle, he learned her true heritage—her father was the heroic figure he most admired. He resolved then to pledge loyalty to Murong Yan, to fight against the demon soldiers and save the people.

Dawn broke swiftly, and the streets grew crowded. The two emerged from beneath the bridge, found two sets of clothes for a quick disguise, and mingled with the throngs, blending in as they returned to their headquarters.

This battle made them realize their spiritual power was too feeble; they were no match for Wu Renfu. Rescuing their families seemed an impossible task. Thus, they entered a secret chamber—Murong Yan healing her wounds while guiding Ye Feng in his cultivation.

Though Ye Feng’s physique was not indestructible, it was as strong as iron and bronze, far above the ordinary. Such physical strength laid a solid foundation for his training. Under Murong Yan’s guidance, his progress was rapid. Within days, he mastered the second stage—control over objects—and entered the third stage—spiritual communion.

Murong Yan’s right arm soon healed, and she quickly resumed her own training. The two were in the midst of intense practice when, one day, the door to the secret chamber was pounded loudly.

They quickly ceased their cultivation and opened the door, finding a trusted soldier in a panic. He exclaimed, “Chief, something terrible has happened!”

Murong Yan, still flushed with anger, demanded, “What’s the matter? Why such panic? If you disrupt our practice and cause harm, what punishment should you suffer?”

Frightened, the soldier bowed and apologized, “I acted rashly, please forgive me. But the matter is urgent—if I don’t report it, disaster may follow.”

Murong Yan’s expression softened. “Speak quickly, what is it?”

The soldier reported, “Chief, the streets are covered with notices. Three days from now, Young Master Ye’s father and family are to be executed publicly at the execution ground. What are your orders?”

Hearing this dreadful news, Ye Feng cried out in anguish, “Father!” He nearly fainted from the shock.

Murong Yan and the soldier rushed to steady him. Once Ye Feng’s breathing calmed, he roared, “Wu Renfu, I’ll fight you to the death!” Grabbing two iron hammers, he prepared to confront Wu Renfu and attempt another prison rescue.

“Wait!” Murong Yan intercepted him. “You’re utterly unprepared. If you rush in now, you’ll only throw your life away!”

Her words brought Ye Feng to his senses. He glanced at the ring on his finger—a ring his father had personally given him. Crafted of gold and set with a thumb-sized emerald, it symbolized Ye Xiaotian’s identity and authority.

“Miss Murong, I must leave for now. I will summon my father’s followers, then return to discuss our plan.”

He disguised himself and left. Not until nightfall did Ye Feng return, his face transformed, brimming with excitement.

Murong Yan greeted him from afar, asking, “Where are they?”

Ye Feng nodded, “They have gathered—over a thousand men. Upon hearing we intend to rescue my father, each swore to join the suicide squad. They’re now assembled at Boss Wang’s courtyard, awaiting orders.”

Murong Yan was overjoyed. Combined with her own forces, their numbers now exceeded three thousand—greatly boosting their confidence in the rescue. She immediately began discussions with Ye Feng.

But Ye Feng already had a plan. He analyzed Wu Renfu’s intention behind the public execution.

“Miss Murong, why has Wu Renfu posted these notices to execute my family in the square?”

“He wants to lure us in, and when we attempt a rescue, trap us all at once.”

“Exactly! You’re very clever. But the danger is, though we know it’s a trap, we have no choice but to walk into it if we wish to save our families.”

“Of course.” Murong Yan nodded.

“So today, I inspected the execution ground’s layout. To rescue my father and family, we must employ the tactics of luring the enemy out and rescuing from the flanks…”

Ye Feng then whispered the details of his plan into Murong Yan’s ear. Murong Yan was delighted, praising him, “How did you think of such a brilliant plan? Why couldn’t I?”

Ye Feng blushed, scratching his head, “You flatter me, Miss. I merely read some old books and learned a bit of history, and based on ancient methods of warfare, devised this strategy. But Wu Renfu’s demon-slaying technique is formidable—I haven’t figured out how to counter it yet.”

Murong Yan waved off his concern, “Don’t worry. When the time comes, the two of us will face him together. I dragged you into this, thinking you were just a scholar. Today, you finally proved your worth.”

Ye Feng sighed, his heart heavy, “I fear it won’t be so easy. We must never underestimate Wu Renfu.”

The two continued refining their rescue plan.

It was midnight before they retired to their rooms for rest.

The next day, Murong Yan carried out the prearranged deployment, assigning tasks to each person. That night, everyone rested early, preparing their strength for the next day’s assault on the execution ground.

Only Ye Feng invited Murong Bao to Murong Yan’s room. Ye Feng brought out a jug of water wine, saying, “Miss Murong, tomorrow’s battle is uncertain. Life and death hang in the balance. Tonight, let us drink this wine to fortify ourselves. If any of us falls on the battlefield, at least we’ll have shared this cup in life.”

Murong Bao, a lover of drink, snatched the jug and shook it, disappointed, “Damn it, there’s barely enough for me alone.” He raised it to his lips, ready to gulp it down.

Ye Feng grabbed it back, reproaching, “Brother Murong, tomorrow is a great battle. If you drink too much now, how will you fight? Tonight, just one cup each, to express our resolve. When we rescue my family, we’ll drink freely then!”

Murong Bao, frustrated at being stopped, slammed the table, grumbling, “Damn it, I can’t even drink as I please. If I die tomorrow, I won’t rest, and I’ll come back for you, Ye Feng.”

Murong Yan, hearing this, scolded, “Brother, enough! Young Master Ye means well.”

Her words silenced Murong Bao, who merely sulked in silence. Murong Yan then bowed apologetically to Ye Feng, “Young Master Ye, my brother is blunt. Please don’t take offense.”

Ye Feng waved his hand, “Not at all. The three of us are like siblings. You’re risking your lives to save my family—I can only be grateful, never resentful! Come, let’s drink this cup so we may follow the plan tomorrow.”

He filled three cups, and drank his first. Murong Yan and her brother followed suit.

Before long, Murong Yan and Murong Bao succumbed to sleep. Ye Feng carried them to their beds, bowed deeply, and said with regret, “Miss Murong, I’ve wronged you today. You and your brother are the orphaned children of Murong elder. If you died rescuing my family, my whole clan would bear the shame and the people’s scorn. I had no choice but to render you unconscious. Rest here; once I save my family, I’ll wake you with the antidote. If I fail, when our followers return, they’ll free you.”

With this, Ye Feng returned to his own room to rest. He had already taken the antidote, so only Murong Yan and her brother were affected by the sleeping draught.

The next morning, Ye Feng disguised himself as a coachman, wearing a leather cap and leading a carriage, heading out with the team. The cold morning wind chilled him to the bone. He wrapped his clothes tightly, feeling an overwhelming sorrow.

This journey might end in life or death; if he failed to rescue his family and father, he was prepared to die alongside them, to be reunited in the underworld.

Everyone had disguised themselves as ordinary townsfolk. Not seeing Murong Yan and her brother, they asked curiously, “Young Master Ye, where are the Murong siblings?”

Ye Feng replied, “They’ve already infiltrated the execution ground. Don’t worry about them. Remember, according to the plan, we three will assault the execution ground, while you distract the soldiers. If we fail, don’t worry about us. Just escape and find the Murong siblings. From then on, follow their command.”

Everyone nodded, not realizing Ye Feng had already accepted death, and these were his final words.