Mythical Qin: I, Gao Yao, will never be a eunuch!

Chapter 1181 Preparing to cause trouble, taking action against Northern Qi!

He walked to the wall and gently turned a mechanism. The wall slid open silently, revealing a secret room. There were no windows in the room, only the dim light emitted by the luminous pearls embedded in the walls.

A map hung on the wall, more detailed than the one in the study, marking every town, every pass, and even every path in the Qing Kingdom. Along the edges of the map, the western border, the northern border, the eastern sea... each direction was marked with different colored silk lines.

Emperor Qing's gaze fell upon the northern border. There, a newly marked red dot stood, next to which were written two characters: Han Xin.

Around the red dot, several black lines had already been laid out—these were the arrangements of the Overwatch Council's spies. With a single command, these lines would tighten, completely shredding the red dot.

"His Majesty."

A voice suddenly sounded behind him. Emperor Qing didn't turn around; he knew who it was. In the entire palace, only one person could enter this secret room without announcing their presence.

"You've arrived," Emperor Qing said calmly.

Chen Pingping, seated in a wheelchair, was pushed into a secret room by a man in black. His face wore his usual gentle smile, but his eyes were icy cold: "Your Majesty summons me; I dare not disobey."

"How's the investigation into Han Xin going?" Emperor Qing asked directly.

“We’ve made some progress.” Chen Pingping gestured for the man in black to step back, then pushed his wheelchair to the map. “This man first appeared three months ago, claiming to be from a sacred mountain beyond the East Sea, and that he had been taught military strategy by an immortal. But I have checked the records of the East Sea trade routes over the past ten years, and there is no one who matches his identity.”

"Identity fraud?"

“That’s not all.” Chen Pingping tapped the map lightly with his finger. “I have studied his military tactics carefully, and they are seven-tenths similar to the tactics Your Majesty used during your Northern Expedition.”

Emperor Qing's gaze suddenly sharpened: "What did you say?"

"It's merely similar, not identical," Chen Pingping said calmly. "But its subtleties are far beyond the comprehension of ordinary generals. I suspect..."

"What do you suspect?"

Chen Pingping raised his head and looked directly at Emperor Qing: "I suspect that this person may be related to a high-ranking official in our Qing Kingdom. He may even have... served in the military."

The air in the sealed room froze once more. The light from the luminous pearl cast flickering shadows on their faces, making their expressions inscrutable.

"You mean, there are people in the court secretly cultivating power and plotting something sinister?" Emperor Qing asked slowly.

"I dare not draw any conclusions," Chen Pingping said, bowing his head. "But such a talent cannot be cultivated overnight. The power behind him is probably far greater than we imagine."

Emperor Qing remained silent for a long time. Only the soft breathing of the two men and the faint sound of a distant drumbeat could be heard in the secret chamber.

It's past midnight.

"Kill him." Emperor Qing finally spoke, his voice completely calm. "No matter who's behind him, kill him first."

"Yes," Chen Pingping replied. "However, I suggest that we should not use the overt personnel of the Censorate in this matter. Since the other side was able to cultivate a figure like Han Xin, they must also have spies within the Censorate."

"what do you mean?"

“Use shadows,” Chen Pingping said softly. “Only shadows will leave no trace.”

Emperor Qing looked at him for a long time before slowly nodding: "Granted."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Chen Pingping bowed, then slowly pushed his wheelchair out of the secret chamber. The door closed silently behind him, leaving Emperor Qing once again in the lonely darkness.

Emperor Qing walked to the map, reached out, and slowly erased the red dot representing Han Xin. The vermilion ink left a deep red mark on his fingertip, like fresh blood.

“No matter who you are, no matter what you want to do…” he muttered to himself, a cold glint in his eyes, “On my chessboard, only I can decide the life and death of the pieces.”

Outside the window, the night was deep. In the distant northern border, a small squad of a hundred men lay in ambush in the mountains, watching the lights of the Northern Qi army camp on the plains.

The wind howled like ghosts wailing in the northern wastelands. Gao Yao stood on a small hill, his black cloak fluttering wildly in the gale, almost swallowing him whole.

Behind him, over a hundred warriors stood silently, each one concealing their aura to the extreme, like a hundred stone statues. Moonlight occasionally shone through gaps in the thick clouds, illuminating their silhouettes in the armor of Qing Kingdom soldiers—the disguises were almost indistinguishable from reality.

Gao Yao raised his hand. It was an ordinary hand, with slightly wrinkled skin and slightly protruding knuckles. However, all the martial artists present knew that this hand had shattered the meridians of countless powerful enemies and decided the fate of countless cities with a flick of its finger. The aura of a Grandmaster was like a deep, still river, seemingly calm, yet containing earth-shattering power.

"No one below the fifth rank shall enter the northern border." This was the only sentence Gao Yao said before setting off.

The 123 men behind him were all at least fifth-rank martial artists, with over twenty at seventh-rank and eight at eighth-rank. Such a force was enough to shake the foundations of a small country. And tonight, their target was merely the Northern Qi vanguard army—a border garrison of five thousand men.

"Remember, fight until dawn, then leave thirty men to escape from the south." Gao Yao's voice wasn't loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears. "Be serious about it, pursue relentlessly, but never actually catch up."

A unified, deep reply came from the darkness: "Yes."

Gao Yao said no more, and vanished from his spot in a flash. More than a hundred warriors followed, turning into blurry shadows in the night, and silently moved towards the Northern Qi vanguard camp five miles away.

At this moment, the Northern Qi vanguard army camp was sparsely lit. It was late autumn, and the northern border was already bitterly cold. Most soldiers had long since retreated into their tents, huddled around the dim charcoal fires for warmth. The soldiers on the watchtowers, wrapped in heavy fur coats, were dozing off, their spears leaning precariously against the wooden railings.

Inside the main general's tent, the vanguard general Huyan Zhuo was drinking with his three lieutenants. The stove inside the tent was burning brightly, a stark contrast to the bitter cold outside.

"This damn weather... I wonder if those people from Qing Kingdom even want to start a war." A bearded lieutenant took a big gulp of wine, wiped his mouth, and said, "I heard there's been a rebellion in their western border. Under these circumstances, they have no intention of actually fighting against Northern Qi. We're the ones with the advantage right now."

Huyan Zhuo, around forty years old, with a face as red as a jujube, was a renowned fierce general of Northern Qi. He squinted and tapped his fingers lightly on the table: "We must not be careless. The emperor of Qing is ruthless; we must be especially careful at times like these to prevent him from diverting internal conflicts."

“General, you are overthinking it,” another lieutenant said with a smile. “Even if they dare to come, our five thousand men are not to be trifled with. Besides, the main force of thirty thousand men in the rear is only thirty li away from here, and can arrive in half a day by fast horse.”

Huyan Zhuo was about to say something when he suddenly frowned. He abruptly put down his wine cup and listened intently. Besides the sound of the wind outside the tent, there seemed to be another sound—extremely faint, like something gently brushing through the air.

“No…” Hu Yanzhuo stood up, his hand already on the hilt of his sword.

Before the words were finished, a scream pierced the night sky.