Chapter 28: Overthinking

After Li Miao sat down, he began to observe Zuo Lishan as well.

Just from Zuo Lishan’s appearance, Li Miao could deduce much about his character. There’s a saying: “The face reflects the heart.” Judging by appearances is often frowned upon, yet in the reality of human society, reading people by their looks is a survival skill everyone uses daily. Even the street fortune-tellers speak of face reading—not so much a superstition, but rather a body of empirical wisdom distilled from experience.

Take Zuo Lishan, for instance: He’s nearly forty, in his prime, yet fine lines already trace the corners of his mouth. This suggests he often purses his lips in thought, burdened with cares. The vertical crease between his brows marks him as someone who habitually frowns, a sign of a serious nature. His attire is simple and unadorned—given his rank and status, he could surely afford better—implying he cares little for others’ opinions, self-assured, perhaps even arrogant. Not a wrinkle mars his clothes; his collar is meticulously straight, his nails trimmed to uniform neatness. This hints at a rigidity, a near-obsessive fastidiousness.

While Zuo Lishan observed Li Miao for martial prowess, Li Miao was reading Zuo Lishan’s character—for Zuo Lishan’s martial skills were of little concern to him.

Zuo Lishan lifted his left sleeve, raised the wine jug with his right, and poured Li Miao a cup.

“May I ask your name, sir?”

“Li Miao, commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.”

Zuo Lishan thought for a moment. “The Commander of the Four Seasons?”

Li Miao smiled faintly. “You know quite a bit, Master Zuo. Even within the Guard, not everyone is aware of that nickname.”

“Who told you?” Zuo Lishan ignored the question, continuing on, “Of the ten commanders in the Embroidered Uniform Guard, the other nine have all spent time outside the capital and are well-known in the martial world. Only you have always remained in Shuntian Prefecture, hence few in the world have heard your name. I heard it by chance, a matter of luck.”

“You are the confidant of the Commandant-in-Chief.”

“Your presence here at Mount Tai—is it on the orders of Lord Zhu?”

Li Miao replied coolly, “More or less.”

Zuo Lishan, satisfied with the answer, glanced at Mei Qinghe standing nearby. Dispensing with further pretense, he addressed Li Miao directly, “If the Guard requires the Huashan Sect, I can leave them alone.”

“I have no wish to vie with the court for influence.”

“This unification of the Five Mountain Sword Sects—I am determined to see it through, and I do need a stepping stone. But it need not be Huashan. If the court desires it, I can seek another—Hengshan will do.”

“It’s just a bit more trouble, is all.”

His tone suggested he barely regarded the other four sects as obstacles. To him, switching out a major sect was a mere trifle, a condition he could grant without a second thought.

Behind him, Mei Qinghe was seething with rage, her hand unconsciously gripping her sword hilt, sinews standing out on the back of her hand.

It was true—the Huashan Sect, beleaguered by Mount Tai’s suppression, had been pushed to the brink of extinction in recent years. Li Miao had already spoken of this the first time he met Mei Qinghe, though she had refused to accept it then.

But now, Zuo Lishan, the alliance leader of the Five Mountains Sword Sects, was laying his calculations bare upon the table, treating the Huashan Sect as a bargaining chip to be pushed about at will, all in front of Mei Qinghe, a direct disciple of Huashan.

For Mei Qinghe, who valued her sect's legacy above her own life, this was an intolerable insult.

Had Li Miao not been seated before her, she would have already drawn her sword against Zuo Lishan.

Zuo Lishan glanced at her but was unconcerned.

He bore no grudge against the court embedding a spy within the Five Mountains Sword Sects; in fact, he welcomed it. Though the imperial court lacked the power to eradicate every great martial sect, some measure of surveillance and control was inevitable—almost every major sect harbored secret agents from the Guard.

An openly placed spy was almost a sign of the court’s tacit approval of the Five Mountains Sword Sects’ unification.

In Zuo Lishan’s view, Mei Qinghe’s alliance with Li Miao meant Huashan had already thrown in its lot with the court. From the perspective of survival, there was no harm in this. Yet by the unwritten laws of the martial world, the Huashan Sect had turned its back on its peers.

With this stain, Huashan would never again contend for dominance with Mount Tai.

Thus, surrendering Huashan to the court in exchange for imperial acquiescence to the unification—this, to Zuo Lishan, was a profitable bargain.

Li Miao understood his meaning and let out a quiet laugh.

He raised his hand, signaling Mei Qinghe to restrain herself, and turned to Zuo Lishan. “Master Zuo, you certainly have many schemes.”

“Too much cleverness leads to ruin. Those who think too much rarely live long.”

Zuo Lishan frowned, fixing Li Miao with a searching look. “What do you mean by that, sir?”

“I mean, you’re overthinking this,” Li Miao replied with a smile. “You have some reason in your conjectures, but from the very start, your thinking has gone astray.”

“You noticed the Guard did not storm Mount Tai directly, but sent a lone commander—myself—to call you out. Do you think I came here to bargain?”

Zuo Lishan said nothing, only looked at Li Miao with a puzzled expression, as if to ask, “If not, then what?”

A mere fifth-rank commander, bringing only a single first-rate subordinate to meet him—wasn’t that a clear signal of peaceful intentions? If not to negotiate, what else could they possibly do?

“Have you considered,” Li Miao said lightly, “that perhaps the Guard intends to annihilate Mount Tai?”

“That it would be simpler for me to lure you down and kill you first, before wiping out your sect entirely?”

At these words, Fei Junxuan, who had been standing nearby, turned pale and hurried outside, glancing nervously in every direction.

He feared the Guard had already surrounded them with archers and crossbowmen, ready to strike down Zuo Lishan—if so, it would mean he himself had delivered Zuo Lishan into their hands, a guilt he could never atone for.

But as he anxiously peered outside, there was only the usual bustle of townsfolk, with a few martial artists loitering nearby. When they caught his eye, they quickly turned away, feigning innocence.

No soldiers, no crossbows, no ambush.

Still uneasy, Fei Junxuan searched the street, questioned several martial artists, and even used his lightness skill to leap onto rooftops and scout the surroundings, but found nothing amiss.

Only then did he relax, returning to the room and nodding to Zuo Lishan.

Li Miao spoke again, “Rest assured, it’s truly just the two of us.”

He looked at Zuo Lishan, who had remained calm throughout. “Master Zuo, you must have thought that even if there were an ambush, your martial skills would ensure your escape.”

Zuo Lishan did not answer, silently acknowledging the truth of it.