Rise of a Lonely City: From Exiled Prince to Ruler of the Nine Provinces

On the seventh day after leaving Hanjiacun, the team entered the real northern mountainous area.

The road is becoming increasingly difficult to travel.

The so-called "road" was nothing more than gullies carved out by flash floods, jagged rocks, and withered grass knee-high. The wheels often got stuck in the crevices of the rocks, and people had to push or pull the horses to move forward.

The horses were panting heavily, and the veterans were panting for breath after just one step.

"Your Highness, Eagle's Sorrow Gorge is just ahead."

Wang Dashan turned back from the front, his face grave. "That place... is dangerous."

Xiao Chen stood on a high slope and looked out.

Two cliffs, as if cleaved by a knife and axe, create a narrow canyon.

The valley entrance is no more than three zhang wide, and it gets narrower and narrower as you go in, with the narrowest part only wide enough for one cart to pass through.

The cliff face is steep and tens of feet high, and looking up you can only see a sliver of gray sky.

The valley was filled with piles of rocks and withered vines hanging down. When the wind blew through it, it made a strange whistling sound, just like the mournful cry of an eagle.

"This place is perfect for an ambush," Zhao Tie said in a deep voice.

Xiao Chen nodded.

Yingchou Gorge is an unavoidable route for those heading north.

If anyone wants to make a move, this is the best place—the terrain is treacherous, and one man can hold off ten thousand.

Getting in is easy, getting out is hard.

"Has the outpost been scouted?"

"We've scouted the valley; we didn't find anyone."

Wang Dashan said, "But that's precisely why it's even more suspicious. In such a dangerous place, there isn't even a bird in sight; it's too quiet."

Xiao Chen was silent for a moment, then ordered, "The team will halt and rest for half an hour. Uncle Zhao, take ten skilled men and scout again. Don't enter the valley; stay near the valley entrance and examine it carefully."

"Yes."

Zhao Tie went to select people.

Xiao Chen returned to the carriage and rummaged through his luggage, pulling out several cloth bags.

That was something he had asked Uncle Fu to prepare when he was in Hanjiacun—lime powder, wrapped in fine cloth into fist-sized packets, and a total of twenty packets were made.

"Your Highness, this lime..." Uncle Fu asked, puzzled.

"It works." Xiao Chen only said two words.

Half an hour later, Zhao Tie returned, his face even more somber.

"There was fresh horse manure at the valley entrance, and the hoofprints were messy, indicating at least thirty riders, all of them good horses. There were signs of someone climbing on the cliff face, and the rocks were loose, indicating human activity."

Zhao Tie lowered his voice, "Your Highness, there's definitely an ambush in the valley. Let's take a detour; it'll take a couple more days, but it'll be safer."

Xiao Chen shook his head: "We can't go around that."

Why?

"Since they set up an ambush here, they must have expected us to come. If we take a detour, they will follow us and strike at the next dangerous spot."

Xiao Chen looked at the canyon and said, "Why don't we settle things here?"

"But the enemy is in the dark while we are in the light, and the terrain is treacherous..."

"It is precisely because of the treacherous terrain that they are less vigilant."

A cold glint flashed in Xiao Chen's eyes. "Uncle Zhao, do you believe me?"

Zhao Tie answered without hesitation: "I believe you!"

"Then I'll do as you say."

Another half hour passed, and the group set off again.

Xiao Chen's carriage was at the front, with Zhao Tie leading twenty veterans as his guards on either side.

Wang Dashan led the main force, following a hundred paces behind, while the rest of the elderly, weak, and baggage train were at the rear.

We've entered the valley.

A chilling aura swept over us.

The valley was dimly lit, and the cliffs were so high that they seemed ready to collapse at any moment.

The horses' hooves clattered on the rocks, echoing through the canyon and adding to the eeriness of the place.

After walking for about a mile, the canyon reached its narrowest point—less than two zhang wide, with cliffs on both sides as if cut by a knife, and only a sliver of sky visible when looking up.

Just then—

"Boom!"

A loud crash came from ahead, and several huge rocks rolled down from the cliff top, blocking the way. Almost simultaneously, a loud crash came from behind, blocking the retreat as well.

"kill!"

Shouts of battle came from the cliffs on both sides.

Dozens of men in black leaped out from the crevices and hollows of the cliff face, wielding long knives, and pounced down like wolves and tigers.

These people were agile and skilled, and they were well-prepared. As soon as they landed, they split into three teams: one team rushed towards Xiao Chen's carriage, one team cut off the connection between the front and rear, and one team went straight for Wang Dashan's main force.

"Protect the Emperor!" Zhao Tie roared, drawing his sword to meet the attack.

In close combat, blood splattered.

Although the veterans were brave, they were old and exhausted after days of traveling.

Several fell down in a single encounter.

The man in black fought with increasing ferocity, his swordsmanship ruthless, each move deadly.

Xiao Chen sat in the carriage, observing through the gap in the curtain.

Thirty men in black, the leader of whom stood out—tall and wielding a ghost-head saber, his swordsmanship was wide and sweeping, and three veterans had already died by his blade.

Zhao Tie was fighting him, but he was clearly at a disadvantage and took another knife wound to the leg.

"Zhao Tie, surrender!"

The leader grinned maliciously, "Hand over the Seventh Prince, and I'll spare your life!"

Zhao Tie didn't answer, gritting his teeth and fighting on, but the wound kept bleeding and his movements became slower and slower.

Xiao Chen took a deep breath, pulled out two packets of lime from his pocket, and then drew out the poisoned dagger.

it's time.

He suddenly flung open the carriage curtain and jumped out.

"Your Highness!" Uncle Fu exclaimed.

Xiao Chen ignored him and charged straight at the leader of the men in black.

The man in black was taken aback when he saw him deliver himself to his doorstep, then burst into laughter: "Seventh Prince, you have quite the nerve! Too bad..."

Before he could finish speaking, Xiao Chen raised his hand and threw a bag of lime at his face.

The cloth bag shattered, the lime powder exploded, and white mist filled the air.

Caught off guard, the man in black had lime in his eyes, nose, and mouth. He screamed in agony and covered his face with his hands.

"Now!" Xiao Chen shouted, his dagger flashing like a venomous snake as it pierced the man in black's throat.

But the man in black was a master after all; though he was blind, he instinctively leaned back.

The dagger grazed his neck, leaving a bloody gash, but it was not fatal.

"You're asking for death!" the man in black roared, wildly slashing with his ghost-headed knife.

Xiao Chen nimbly dodged and threw out a second bag of lime.

This time, the blow hit another man in black who was trying to rush forward, and that man also screamed and fell to the ground.

The lime powder permeated the narrow valley, and many of the men in black were affected, throwing them into disarray.

The veterans seized the opportunity to fight back, killing several of them.

But the leader of the men in black had already wiped away some of the lime with his sleeve, and although he still couldn't open his eyes, he could see things blurry.

He locked onto Xiao Chen's location, and the ghost-headed blade slashed down with a whistling sound.

Xiao Chen couldn't dodge this strike.

"Your Highness, be careful!" Zhao Tie rushed over and shielded Xiao Chen with his body.

"puff--"

The dull thud of a knife piercing flesh.

Zhao Tie grunted as the ghost-headed blade slashed into his shoulder, the cuts so deep they reached the bone.

He knelt on one knee, but gripped the blade tightly, preventing the man in black from drawing his sword.

"Uncle Zhao!" Xiao Chen's eyes were bloodshot.

The man in black grinned maliciously and forcefully drew his knife.

Zhao Tie's hands were cut raw and bloody from the blade, but he just wouldn't let go.

In that split second, Xiao Chen made his move.

Instead of using a dagger, he pulled out the last lime packet from his pocket—this one was different; the cloth packet was wrapped with a layer of oiled paper.

He tore open the oil paper and stuffed the entire cloth bundle into the black-clad man's gaping mouth, which was contorted with a sinister grin.

Then I kicked him in the chest.

The man in black fell backward, instinctively swallowing as lime powder slid down his throat.

"Uh...ah..."

He threw down the knife, clutched his throat with both hands, and his face turned a deep purplish-red.

Lime generates heat when it comes into contact with water, burning the esophagus and stomach walls; the pain is indescribable.

He rolled on the ground, screaming, but couldn't make a complete sound, only a strange hoarse noise.

The other men in black were stunned by what they saw.

Xiao Chen gave them no time to react, picked up the ghost-head knife from the ground—it was heavy, but he gripped it with both hands and charged toward the nearest man in black.

The man in black raised his knife to parry, but underestimated Xiao Chen's strength.

The two knives clashed, and the man in black's hand was ripped open, the knife flying out of his grasp.

Xiao Chen swiftly swept his sword across, slashing at his waist.

Blood splattered three feet deep.

"Who else?" Xiao Chen stood there, knife in hand, covered in blood, his eyes as cold as ice.

The man in black looked at his leader, who was rolling and screaming on the ground, then at his companion who had been cut in half at the waist, and then at the boy standing with a knife in his hand. Finally, he was afraid.

Someone shouted first, "Retreat!"

The dozen or so men in black who were still alive turned and ran, clinging to the vines and crevices of the cliff face as they fled in a sorry state.

"Chase them!" Wang Dashan ordered his men to give chase.

"Don't chase them!" Xiao Chen shouted, "Saving lives is the priority!"

He threw down his knife and rushed to Zhao Tie's side.

Zhao Tie's shoulder wound was so deep that bone was visible, and blood was gushing out like a spring; his face was as pale as paper.

"Medicine! Wound medicine!" Xiao Chen shouted hoarsely.

Uncle Fu scrambled over and grabbed the medicine box.

Xiao Chen tore open Zhao Tie's clothes, poured the entire bottle of wound medicine onto the wound, and then tightly bound it with clean strips of cloth.

The bleeding stopped temporarily, but Zhao Tie had fallen into a semi-comatose state.

"Your Highness..." he murmured.

"Don't talk, save your energy."

Xiao Chen held him down, "Uncle Zhao, hold on, you can't die."

Zhao Tie twitched his lips, wanting to laugh, but couldn't, and fainted.

Xiao Chen had Zhao Tie lifted onto the carriage and then checked on the other wounded.

In this battle, seven veterans died and fifteen were wounded.

The men in black left behind eleven corpses, including the leader.

"Your Highness, these people..." Wang Dashan pointed to the corpses.

"Search them, take anything useful."

Xiao Chen's voice was a little hoarse, "Where are the horses? They should have horses."

"Outside the valley, there are thirty fine horses, all tied up."

Xiao Chen's eyes lit up.

Horses are what he needs most right now.

With these thirty fine horses, the team's mobility was greatly improved.

"Take them all." After he finished speaking, he walked to the corpse of the leader in black.

The man was no longer moving, his eyes wide open, dying with unseeing disbelief.

Black blood seeped from the corners of his mouth, nostrils, and ears. He died from lime burning through his internal organs, a truly gruesome death.

Xiao Chen squatted down expressionlessly and began searching the person.

He pulled out several items from his pocket: a bag of loose silver, a token, and a letter.

The token is made of iron, with a wolf's head engraved on the front and the character "燕" (swallow) on the back.

It is a token of the Northern Yan.

The letter was a secret one, sealed with sealing wax, and was already mostly soaked with blood.

Xiao Chen carefully opened the letter; it contained only one line:

"After the deed is done, you will receive a thousand taels of gold, and you may freely travel to and from the border of Northern Yan."

There was no signature, but the meaning was clear—this was a case of the Northern Yan people hiring a hitman to commit murder.

Xiao Chen put away the letter and then examined the bodies of the other men in black.

The same wolf head token was also found on two of them.

"Your Highness, are they from Northern Yan?" Wang Dashan came over, and his expression changed drastically when he saw the token.

"uncertain."

Xiao Chen shook his head. "The token may be real, and the person may be from Northern Yan, but the one who hired the killer... may not be from Northern Yan."

"What do you mean?"

"frame."

Xiao Chen said coldly, "If I die at the hands of the Northern Yan people, the court will have a reason to wage war against Northern Yan. Fourth Brother's father-in-law is the Vice Minister of War and a proponent of war. Once war breaks out, he will have the opportunity to take command of the army."

Wang Dashan gasped, "This...this scheme is too elaborate..."

"If it's not deep enough, how can one be a prince?" Xiao Chen stood up and looked around the canyon.

As the sun sets, its afterglow shines down from the narrow gorge, turning the bloodstains in the valley a dark red.

Corpses lay strewn about, broken swords and arrows scattered everywhere, a scene of utter devastation.

This is the third wave of assassinations.

Each time it got more ruthless and more vicious than the last.

"Clean up the battlefield and bury our brothers."

Xiao Chen's voice echoed through the canyon, "Throw the enemy's corpses onto the cliff top and feed them to the eagles."

"yes!"

The veterans acted silently.

They dug a pit, buried their companion, and erected a simple wooden sign to record his name.

Those veterans who had only followed Xiao Chen for ten days were left behind forever in Eagle's Sorrow Gorge.

Xiao Chen stood in front of the new grave and gazed at it for a long time.

"Wang Dashan".

"Your humble servant is here."

"From today onwards, you will temporarily assume the position of Commander of the Guards. Until Zhao Tie recovers from his injuries, you will be fully responsible for the guard duties."

"yes!"

"Also," Xiao Chen turned around, looking at the captured horses, "select thirty veterans who can ride horses to form a cavalry unit. You will train them personally, and I want them to be able to ride without falling off their horses within ten days."

"Ten days?" Wang Dashan was taken aback. "Your Highness, that's too rushed. They're old, and they haven't ridden a horse in many years..."

"We have to practice, even if it's urgent," Xiao Chen interrupted him. "You see, without cavalry, we're sitting ducks. Next time we're attacked, do you expect me to use lime packets?"

Wang Dashan straightened up: "Understood, sir!"

Xiao Chen walked up to a black horse. This was the mount of the leader of the men in black, entirely black except for its four snow-white hooves, and exceptionally spirited. A bow and a quiver of arrows were also hanging on the saddle.

He stroked the horse's neck, and the black horse snorted but did not resist.

"Good horse," Xiao Chen said softly. "From now on, your name will be 'Treading Snow'."

He mounted the horse—his movements were a little clumsy, but still steady. The horse seemed to recognize its master and obediently took a few steps.

"Send word to camp outside the valley tonight. Set up more sentries, and depart at dawn tomorrow." Xiao Chen pulled on the reins, and the black horse reared up and neighed loudly.

In the afterglow of the setting sun, the boy sat on his horse, covered in blood, his eyes cold.

The veterans looked at him and suddenly realized that this sixteen-year-old prince was a completely different person from the one who left the capital ten days ago.

At that time, he was still a frail prince.

Now, he is a general who has personally killed numerous enemies and remains calm in the face of danger.

"Let's go." Xiao Chen took the lead and headed out of the valley.

Behind them were eleven new graves, thirty warhorses, and a team undergoing transformation.

And a road paved with blood, leading to the abyss.