Chapter 23: Shadows of Betrayal

 

After returning to the Lin residence, Lin Jun refused food and sat in silence within the courtyard pavilion. From midday until sunset, and then into the dead of night, he remained unmoving, his grief weighing heavier than stone.

The steward tried to persuade him several times, but Lin Jun would not stir. Only when Duan Xu arrived late at night, walking directly to him, did Lin Jun finally snap out of his daze, rising in surprise.

Duan Xu, dressed in a plain round-collared robe, bowed deeply.
"Boss Lin, Shunxi is ashamed to face the Lin family."

Lin Jun quickly shook his head, helping him up.
"General Duan, there’s no need for self-reproach… All men must die. My uncle, he…"

His voice faltered, unable to continue.

Duan Xu sighed softly.
"I heard your father passed away early, and your uncle cared for you as a father would. The words he spoke beneath the city walls today were to spare you grief. I imagine he couldn’t bear to see you so despondent."

Though Lin Jun was older, Duan Xu always addressed him with respect, refusing to drop the formality.

"I know the Lin family has suffered greatly, and your heart is heavy with sorrow," Duan Xu continued. "Yet, I must ask for your help with a matter of great importance. I hope you will agree."

Lin Jun blinked in surprise.
"What matter?"

Duan Xu’s expression hardened.
"Regarding the spy in the army—I have suspicions about someone and would like your help to confirm it."

“Who?”  

“Han Lingqiu.”  

Lin Jun froze, staring at Duan Xu in disbelief, as though the very name could not possibly be true. “General, what evidence do you have?”  

“Lady He’s ambush, the burning of provisions, the encirclement during the grain raid, the betrayal of the Lin family—each incident ties back to him. During the grain raid, the Hú Qì People specifically ordered that Han Lingqiu not be harmed. He came from Danzhi, claiming amnesia, but there are far too many inconsistencies.”  

“Amnesia?” Lin Jun blurted out.  

“I suspect he’s concealing his true martial prowess. That’s why I arranged a competition to test him. I’ve heard you, Boss Lin, are a martial enthusiast yourself, with several highly skilled guests in your household. Could you invite them to spar with Han Lingqiu?”  

Lin Jun’s expression hardened. He bowed deeply. “Leave this matter to me. I will not fail your trust.”  

Duan Xu placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Boss Lin, you are not only the pride of the Lin family—you are a pillar of Great Liang.”  

---

After leaving the Lin residence, Duan Xu went directly to find Han Lingqiu. Spotting him on patrol, he called him over.  

“Whatever suspicions you may harbor about me, I am your general now, and you must obey my orders.”  

Han Lingqiu lowered his eyes. “Yes, General. What are your orders?”  

“You’ve been hiding your true strength, haven’t you? You’ve never shown your full martial skill.” Duan Xu’s words cut straight to the heart.  

Han Lingqiu stiffened, about to speak, but Duan Xu raised a hand to silence him. “In the martial arts competition a few days from now, I want you to win every match—but still conceal your true strength. Do not reveal it unless absolutely necessary.”  

The request left Han Lingqiu stunned. After a pause, he asked quietly, “General, how did you know I—”  

“This is my order. You only need to say ‘yes.’”  

Han Lingqiu hesitated, then lowered his head. “Yes.”  

Duan Xu chuckled softly. “There’s one more thing I need to tell you. Remember it well.”  

By the time the moon climbed high, Duan Xu finally emerged from the camp. Alone, lantern in hand, he strolled through the cold, moonlit streets. Red lanterns and silk ribbons swayed on either side, new couplets pasted neatly on doors. The city brimmed with joy, preparing for the New Year.  

Yet they did not know the truth—that provisions would last only another month, that endless black tents pressed against the walls, that twenty-three members of the Lin family had bled out beneath those very walls today.  

This peace, this happiness, was both astonishing and eerie.  

And the one concealing it all walked calmly down the street, lantern glowing in his hand.  

“Are you there?” he asked.  

Silence answered first. Then, a pair of lotus-colored cloud boots touched the ground beside him.  

The Ghost King Lamp at He Simu’s waist flickered with a faint blue glow as she remarked lazily, “All arranged?”  

“Mm. You already know?”  

“Most of it, I’d guess.”  

“Let’s see how much you can guess by the end of this game.”  

He Simu turned her gaze on him. His eyes were clear, yet deep as a thousand-foot cold pool—fathomless. For someone who had lived barely twenty years, to already carry such eyes…  

She asked softly, “Little General, how old are you? Aren’t you tired?”  

Duan Xu’s gaze flickered. He tilted his head toward her, smiling without a word.  

---

The New Year’s martial arts competition began on New Year’s Eve. He Simu, as Diviner of the Snow-Treading Army, was seated beside Duan Xu. Lin Jun sat on his other side.  

Duan Xu himself did not compete, nor did he allow Wu Shengliu, the martial fanatic, to join. Wu Shengliu sulked with arms crossed, drinking in silence.  

After several rounds, Han Lingqiu advanced to the finals, defeating every opponent. His reputation was already formidable—his only loss had ever been to Wu Shengliu.  

His final opponent was Master Song, a martial artist invited by Lin Jun. Broad-shouldered, thick-waisted, and powerful, Master Song had crushed his earlier challengers with ease.  

The two bowed, the drum sounded, and the duel began.  

Duan Xu narrowed his eyes. Lin Jun leaned forward anxiously. He Simu cracked melon seeds with Chen Ying, watching idly.  

The fighters clashed fiercely, neither yielding. Dust swirled as they exchanged blow after blow. Still, no victor emerged.  

According to Duan Xu, if Han Lingqiu had truly been a death warrior of *Heaven Knows*, his skill should surpass Master Song’s. Yet, bound by orders, he held back. At this pace, he could not win.  

He Simu thought wryly that Duan Xu had given both Lin and Han a cruel task—probe, conceal, and still triumph.  

The stalemate dragged on until Lin Jun frowned and said, “At this rate, we still won’t see Han Xiaowei’s true strength. I heard Hero Song mention a jianghu tradition—combatants blindfold themselves. It’s said to best reveal an opponent’s skill.”  

Duan Xu paused mid-sip of tea, then smiled. “Very well. Since there’s no clear winner, let’s proceed this way.”  

He summoned Meng Wan and announced the new rules.  

On the field, Han Lingqiu stiffened. His eyes flicked toward Duan Xu, who met his gaze impassively. After a long silence, Han Lingqiu lowered his head, sighed faintly, and tied the black cloth over his eyes.  

The crowd leaned forward, breathless.  

Once blindfolded, the air around him shifted. He Simu saw faint ripples in the wind, the same she had noticed when Duan Xu fought Wu Shengliu. Han Lingqiu’s speed doubled, his precision flawless—as though he had grown a third eye.  

Master Song faltered. His strikes slowed, his accuracy wavered. Han Lingqiu feinted, then struck his chest with brutal precision. As Song staggered, Han Lingqiu seized his arm, pivoted, and slammed him to the ground, hand locking around his throat.  

Swift. Precise. Lethal.  

He Simu set down her melon seeds. Song’s ribs were likely shattered, one nearly piercing his heart.  

Blindfolded, Han Lingqiu fought with ruthless efficiency, honed only through the harshest training.  

The gong sounded. A soldier cried out, “Han Xiaowei wins!”  

Han Lingqiu removed the blindfold, bowed to Song, and said quietly, “My apologies.”  

The crowd erupted. Wu Shengliu leapt to his feet, eyes wide. “Brother Han—how? Since when was he this strong? Why would he hide something like this?”  

Amid the uproar, Duan Xu set down his teacup and rose. He walked to the edge of the training ground, his voice carrying clearly.  

“Gentlemen, during our time in Shuozhou Prefecture, we’ve faced one calamity after another—the attack on Jiao Zhanhou’s carriage, the burning of provisions, the ambush during the grain seizure, the betrayal of the Lin family’s main branch. Each proves there is a Danzhi spy among us. Today, I can finally confirm who that spy is—someone tied to every incident.”  

His gaze fell on Han Lingqiu. The young man clenched his fists, silent.  

But Duan Xu only smiled, then turned to Lin Jun.  

“Boss Lin, what do you say? Or should I ask you—where have you hidden the real Lin Jun ever since we took control of the prefecture city?”  

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