Chapter 120: The Pawn

Qilian Mountain is indeed vast, but the area occupied by the Qilian Sect is merely a small fraction of it. Even with the extensive construction over the past three years that has significantly expanded its footprint, it still takes little time to walk from the main hall to the kitchen. Du Huiming is a frequent guest at Qilian Mountain and is well-acquainted with almost all its disciples. Naturally, he is familiar with the peculiar relationship Lao Er has with his cooking. He wanders about as he pleases, and even if he doesn’t greet anyone, no one would dare to stop him.

The kitchen looks just as a kitchen should. It is a domain controlled entirely by Lao Er, and no one dares to interfere, leaving him free to work his craft. At this moment, wisps of cooking smoke curl out through the doorway, shrouding the area around the building in a hazy atmosphere. Combined with the unique mountain air of the Qilian range, it almost feels like a fairyland. More magically, the aroma of the food drifting through the smoke not only stimulates the nerves but also brings a sense of comfort to one’s slightly hungry belly.

"Second Brother, I heard you were looking for me?" Du Huiming’s pace quickens instinctively. He has no desire to endure the torture of waiting outside. When it comes to good things, one should enjoy them while they are there; especially things that don't belong to you—the moment you let go, they might just slip through your fingers. The light inside the kitchen is poor, and due to the heat from the stove, one can feel faint waves of warmth, which contrast sharply with the cold of the mountain peak. This hardly matters, though; once inside, he is closer to the delicacies, and with that in mind, he is too busy salivating to utter a single complaint.

In truth, these are nothing extraordinary—just home-style dishes like stir-fried vegetables and meat. Yet, using ingredients sourced from the mountains combined with his refined craftsmanship, they possess a certain mastery in color, aroma, and taste. While they may fall short of the works of famous chefs in great cities, Lao Er is incredibly earnest. His expression is one of deep focus, as if every movement is the careful sculpting of a work of art. The rising flames cast a glow on his face, radiating a light that is almost mesmerizing.

Called by Du Huiming, Lao Er snaps back to reality. His gaze fixes on his guest for a brief moment of hesitation, appearing slightly stunned, but the look of surprise vanishes from his face as quickly as it appeared. It is replaced by a smile—the kind of joy one feels upon seeing an old friend after a long time, yet with a subtle, indefinable nuance that is hard to put into words.

"What urgent instructions does His Highness the Prince of Qi have this time, that he would send you here specifically? You’ve come at just the right moment, though. I’ve just prepared some humble fare; perhaps only you, little brother, wouldn't mind it. Come, have a taste and see how it is!" Lao Er is remarkably direct. Before the smile even fades, his hands are already in motion. With a quick scoop and a turn, a plate is placed before Du Huiming, followed by a swift offering of chopsticks. The entire movement is graceful and full of the spirit of the pugilistic world—a touch that professional chefs lack.

At this point, few would choose to refuse, and Du Huiming is no exception. Furthermore, as he takes the chopsticks, his hungry stomach can no longer resist the temptation, letting out a audible growl. For a grown man, regardless of his nature or temperament, such a display is somewhat embarrassing. His hand pauses, and he bows his head slightly, though he does not stop his movements. He picks up a piece of food and eats it. As the aroma flows through his senses and the savory, tender flavors permeate his taste buds, he suddenly finds that the dish is far more wonderful than he had imagined.

"Second Brother, it’s been a while since I’ve had your cooking. It seems your skill is getting better and better. If I weren't in such a rush, I would definitely stay here on Qilian Mountain and eat every single dish you make!" Du Huiming is no man of letters; as a military man, he cannot conjure up elegant or flowery vocabulary. Yet, his bluntness is perhaps more convincing than any flowery praise could be.

"You only think that because you don't eat it often. If you had it every day, you’d be just like my junior brothers, finding even the simple act of eating to be a chore!" Lao Er understands the principle well. Though he remains pleased, his words are clear-headed. He has no intention of dwelling on the topic, and after a brief pause, he abruptly changes the subject: "His Highness the Prince of Qi must have sent you here with something important to tell my master. Of course, that is not for me to concern myself with. I only wish to ask: is the Princess, currently trapped at Mingyue Manor, safe? Will there be any trouble?"

"I knew you couldn't let go of that matter. It makes sense, of course—you were a servant brought from the Princess’s maternal family, so looking after your master is your duty." Seeming to have expected the question, Du Huiming pauses, his chopsticks hovering mid-air. "Second Brother, if you are worrying about her, you are merely fretting over nothing. The Princess is no ordinary person. Even if her martial arts aren't quite on par with Shen Wan's, they aren't far behind. Besides, His Highness the Prince of Qi has placed a brilliant chess piece at Mingyue Manor. With him there, the Princess’s safety is guaranteed!"

"Who is this person?" The question slips out instinctively, but Lao Er immediately realizes it is inappropriate and forces himself to suppress it. His voice is so low it is barely audible, yet Du Huiming understands perfectly. As the saying goes, "he who eats another's food must keep his mouth shut." Du Huiming’s tone remains gentle, though he cannot easily hide the tension on his face. He glances around, loudly exclaiming how delicious the food is to mask the moment before leaning in to whisper, "Second Brother, you know some things cannot be spoken of, or the Prince will not spare us. However, since you asked and I know your heart, I will tell you this much: the Prince has arranged for someone at Mingyue Manor who possesses ability equal to that of Shen Wan or Dao Tianfeng. That is all I can say; you will have to ponder it yourself."

Is that supposed to be clear? Lao Er remains confused. He knows exactly who Shen Wan and Dao Tianfeng are—names that even a common passerby in the martial arts world would recognize. He wonders who could possibly rival them. Yet, whether it be Shao Donghua of the Donghua Gate or Dongfang Mingyue of the Hanshan Valley, they are both long gone. Looking across the entire martial arts world, who else possesses such power?

"I cannot stay any longer. There are matters the Prince needs me to arrange. The rumors are spreading quickly, and it seems even Chang'an is stirred. It seems we can no longer delay. I hear some have already begun impeaching the Prince before the King. If the facade is torn away, a hard battle will surely follow, and we cannot afford any carelessness. I must take my leave. Second Brother, I hope to have the chance to taste your cooking again."

If someone else were to hear these words, they might be shocked, but for Du Huiming and Lao Er, these are things they already know, discussed as casually as daily gossip. Lao Er, his mind still occupied by the identity of that "chess piece," barely pays attention, offering only a symbolic nod. Du Huiming, on the other hand, does not linger. Whether it is late evening or pitch black, he must depart from Qilian Mountain. A soldier’s life is defined by two words: obedience. Even if a sea of blades and flames awaited him, he would walk through it without hesitation.

After a moment, Lao Er snaps out of his contemplation. Watching Du Huiming’s figure disappear around the corner, he is filled with sudden melancholy. Looking back at the fire in the stove, the dancing flames seem to reflect his own reflection—only younger and more handsome. He cannot help but mutter softly, "To think it has been twenty years, passing as quickly as a flying arrow. My Lady, I often wonder if guarding you like this, watching you sacrifice so much for that man, is right or wrong. Are you doing well within the Blue Lotus Sect? I promised to look after Butterfly for you. I don't know how she is doing at Mingyue Manor. I hope all is well. If something were to happen to her, I wouldn't know how to answer to you."