Qin Weiguo’s expression immediately sobered when he caught mention of the “Old Buddha.” He turned aside, bent his left knee, dropped his right hand, and slightly leaned his upper body forward into a partial kowtow, as if the Empress Dowager Cixi herself stood before him, adopting a posture of utter servility. Seeing his sudden adherence to Qing Dynasty etiquette, I felt a mixture of suspicion and contempt, yet I dared not show the slightest disrespect on my face. I quickly made way to the side, careful not to utter the words “Old Buddha” again, lest he launch into further formalities and render coherent conversation impossible.

“This humble one was fortunate enough not to disgrace the Old Buddha’s mission,” Qin Huguo stated, standing tall with his hands behind his back after completing his bow.

His undisguised arrogance only served to confirm my suspicions. Thus, I cautiously resumed my probing, asking tentatively, “Then, regarding Lord Heshengtai…”

Qin Weiguo glanced at me, drawing out the word with confusion, “What is your relation to that rascal Heshengtai?” He then proceeded to scrutinize us from head to toe.

My original intent was to ascertain his connection to Heshengtai, but judging by his demeanor, he seemed quite dismissive of the man. I managed a weak smile. “No relation whatsoever, just that I encountered his venerable self in another location.”

At these words, Qin Weiguo’s eyes widened. Without uttering a sound, his long saber was already halfway drawn from its sheath, aimed directly at my chest. Immediately, Qin Huguo and the others moved with blinding speed, drawing their own long sabers to surround us completely. One of them even blew a sharp whistle—likely the prearranged signal for enemies—indicating they had reinforcements.

A surge of hot blood rushed to my head. Without hesitation, I raised my hand, drew my pistol, and aimed it steadily at Qin Weiguo, waiting to see whose weapon would strike first. Behind me, the sharp sound of a bolt being racked echoed instantly. Eighty-Seven loudly called for everyone to calm down, adding frankly that eliminating them would be effortless for us.

Considering this, I calmly asked him where my words had gone astray to provoke such a sudden shift in attitude.

Qin Weiguo let out two cold laughs. He declared that we must be barbarians who had stumbled in from some unknown place. While we had learned their language, our speech immediately betrayed us. This was because when the Old Buddha dispatched their ancestors to guard this area, Heshengtai was merely a minor official in the capital; it would have been impossible for him to be stationed in Tibet. This, he concluded, proved we were enemies.

Hearing this, I could only manage a wry smile. Their ancestors had arrived in Tibet before Heshengtai, and after remaining isolated for so long, how could they possibly know Heshengtai’s current affairs in Tibet? I looked back at the people behind me with a sense of helplessness, shrugging to indicate I didn't know where to begin explaining.

Eighty-Seven cleared his throat twice. He stepped forward from the group, first sheathing his own weapon, then motioning for us to secure ours. He sincerely began to explain the matter of Heshengtai to Qin Weiguo. After much gesticulation and explanation, Qin Weiguo and his men still failed to grasp the situation. Showing no sign of yielding, Qin Huguo and the others cleared away the wine cups and tableware from before, tightening their inescapable circle around us. The atmosphere grew increasingly tense.

Just then, two distinctly clear, short whistles drifted from an unknown location. Qin Weiguo’s expression shifted, and he slowly returned his gleaming long saber to its scabbard, though the others remained motionless. Qin Weiguo murmured something to the man next to him, who waved his hand to the rest. The men reluctantly sheathed their sabers, automatically forming two lines—it seemed they were allowing us to leave?

I was about to speak when three slower, more deliberate whistles sounded. Qin Weiguo’s face returned to normal, and he spoke to us with composed courtesy, “Our master requests your presence.”

We did not move. Qin Weiguo repeated the invitation.

I volunteered, saying I had the advantage. Then Eighty-Seven insisted that he should go instead.

Qin Weiguo watched our low-voiced deliberation with cold eyes, saying nothing.

Suddenly, another short whistle pierced the air. Qin Weiguo said again, “I fear we must trouble this young lady to accompany us.” He pointed at Zhuoma Yangjin and smiled. “She is Tibetan.”

Zhuoma Yangjin looked quite surprised, drawing out her question in disbelief, “Me?”

Qin Weiguo nodded, explaining that their master currently preferred to converse only with Tibetans. Qin Huguo stood to the side, watching me with an amused smirk, clearly sensing the connection between Zhuoma Yangjin and me.

Eighty-Seven hesitated, saying that since Zhuoma Yangjin was a young woman, he felt uneasy letting her go alone; perhaps he should accompany her.

Qin Weiguo did not argue. After Eighty-Seven finished, he firmly reiterated that only Zhuoma Yangjin could go. At this point, Qin Huguo, who had remained largely silent since descending from the cave, spoke up. He said, “Why not ask him to come along—” he gestured toward me, addressing Qin Weiguo, “—to accompany the young lady. That way, both parties might feel more at ease.” Seeing Qin Weiguo’s expression soften somewhat, he even seemed inclined to agree.

Eighty-Seven was unwilling to concede and tried to argue further, but Qin Weiguo politely and courteously reminded him, “Your skills are impressive, sir; would it not be better to remain here and protect your comrades?”

With that, Eighty-Seven could say no more. He retreated to the side silently, subtly signaling me to remain highly vigilant. I was well aware of this necessity; however, I didn't know if this path led to a mere sandbar or a tiger's den, and they needed to keep Qin Huguo and the others contained.

Having made up my mind, I told Qin Weiguo and the others that I was willing to go, but they had to leave someone sufficiently important behind.

As the words left my mouth, Qin Weiguo let out two unexpected, dismissive sneers. “You barbarians, sprung from who knows where, your minds are devious and sly, trusting no one. We do not dare waste a single piece of our meager pottery and cups, let alone human lives… Very well. This humble one and Huguo will accompany the two of you to meet our superior, and the remaining sixteen brothers will stay here. How does that sound?”

They had moved the crudely made ceramic cups and plates aside before surrounding us; clearly, material goods were scarce here, and manpower even more so. Thus, both sides quickly agreed. I led Zhuoma Yangjin, following the two Qin men to meet their leader.

Before we departed, Eighty-Seven subtly slipped a small, exquisitely crafted fragmentation grenade into my hand and gave Zhuoma Yangjin something else, only then seeming content to let us go.

The two Qin men openly led us through the crowd towards a densely vegetated area nearby. In truth, this entire region was covered in foliage, devoid of any human trace; without them as guides, even a master like Eighty-Seven would struggle to find a path.

Qin Weiguo seemed quite displeased about bringing me along, his expression invariably betraying cold reluctance. Qin Huguo cheerfully explained to him that if the Master declined to see me, he would bear full responsibility for the outcome.

My height of one meter eighty was almost entirely submerged by the grass, forcing me to tightly grip Zhuoma Yangjin's hand as I pushed aside the long blades of grass, keeping close to the two Qin men.

Fortunately, there was no overly dramatic procession. After walking through the brush for a short while and navigating a winding section of cave, we emerged into a shallow grassy clearing. The ground was covered in new, tender green shoots, and the air suddenly felt much warmer.

“Have we arrived?” Seeing the unusual setting—clearly not a place for ordinary people—I asked discreetly.

Qin Weiguo did not reply. He let out a short, long whistle. From beneath a large tree not far off, three figures emerged slowly. The leader was an old man with entirely white hair and beard, sporting the same hairstyle and similar clothing as the two Qin men, though his vest was replaced with a pale yellow Magua (a traditional long jacket).

The two Qin men quickly stepped forward, kneeling on one knee, and respectfully saluted, “General.”

The General bid them rise, and they stood to one side.

I followed the etiquette I’d seen in dramas, cupping my fist in salute and also addressing him as General, though my eyes never left his yellow Magua. In the Qing Dynasty, that color was reserved for officials who had achieved significant military merit, further deepening my confusion.

The General quickly returned our greetings, saying we could simply call him Qin Dazhong. He then asked about Zhuoma Yangjin’s background, adhering to the custom of directing his gaze solely toward her.

I paused, then answered truthfully, stating she was the current King of Guge.

Upon hearing the word “King,” Qin Dazhong seemed affected, murmuring “King… King…” twice before regaining his composure. He then asked if I was now in charge of the affairs of the sixth Prince Yixin’s household.

I had no interest in their Qing Dynasty squabbles. I simply stated that the Aisin Gioro clan no longer held power. I asked why he wanted to see Zhuoma Yangjin, only to find the old man standing stock-still, silent, for a long moment.

After a while longer, he asked me, “Can I speak with the King of Guge privately?”

I looked at Zhuoma Yangjin, who nodded.

Qin Dazhong then invited Zhuoma Yangjin to a spot slightly farther away to talk. Surprisingly, his two personal attendants did not follow, remaining behind to converse with the two Qin men—mostly about how bold they were to bring unauthorized people, risking the General’s wrath.

I presumed the unauthorized person referred to me, but I could hardly concern myself with that, focusing intently on Qin Dazhong and Zhuoma Yangjin.

However, Qin Dazhong chose a distance that was close enough that they were visible but far enough that we could not overhear their conversation. I saw Zhuoma Yangjin’s expression grow increasingly serious, while Qin Dazhong appeared entirely sincere, though I couldn't know what he was saying.

The two Qin men and the two attendants chatted quite amiably, mostly discussing the General’s good health, entirely ignoring my presence. In their eyes, I suppose, we were all lawless barbarians.

After a considerable time standing, my legs grew numb. Qin Dazhong and Zhuoma Yangjin finally returned. Qin looked immensely relieved, but Zhuoma Yangjin’s expression was grave, her eyes red-rimmed. She walked over and tightly gripped my hand, saying Qin Dazhong wanted to show us certain things.

“However, perhaps the King and her friends are tired, and many questions remain unanswered. Huguo, go have someone prepare some food and wine to entertain our honored guests. Weiguo, go invite the others in,” Qin Dazhong instructed.

When Eighty-Seven, Old Li, and the others rejoined us, before they could ask, Qin Dazhong introduced himself, saying any questions could be addressed over the meal, then led our entire party into a hall fashioned from an adjacent cave.

After we were seated according to rank, small boys clad in coarse linen brought us wine. For a moment, I truly felt as if I had time-traveled.

Soon, other servants brought dishes on crude pottery plates: perfectly roasted Tibetan pork, the aroma delicious.

After three rounds of wine and sampling the main courses, Qin Dazhong finally came to the point, saying that after a short rest, he would take us to see the things we wished to view.

For the moment, I wasn't particularly interested in what he was showing us. The most crucial thing was what he had told Zhuoma Yangjin that left her so subdued and silent. She drank when we drank and ate when we ate, her mood impossible to read—neither joy nor sorrow.

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