Chapter 119: Subversion (4)

In the heart of Kantipur, the capital of Nepal, lies an expansive open square traditionally used for trade. At appointed times, it is usually a bustling hub filled with merchants. Today is no exception, save for the fact that the tents that typically crowd the area have been ordered dismantled. The entire plaza has been cleared, only to be immediately packed with city residents drawn by the news. Curiosity is a universal human trait, regardless of nation or ethnicity.

Beyond the locals, a large number of mountain folk have arrived in groups, carrying animal hides as if they were coming to market. No one has stopped them, as orders from a high-ranking official dictated that the more people who witness the event, the better. However, as they approached the square, the guard presence suddenly intensified. Heavily armed Tibetans secured the streets and the perimeter, while a larger force of Nepalese soldiers held the outer lines, causing a sense of unease among the mountain people.

No one expected that a simple fur trade would lead to a public execution. Most baffling of all, the prisoner is one of their own. Unconsciously, the mountain people gathered together, forming a distinct divide between themselves and the local populace. This instinctive grouping only heightened the tension among the surrounding soldiers; no one knew what might happen once the execution actually began.

"What is going on? Is that someone from your village?"

The mountain people, left in a state of bewilderment, began whispering to one another to uncover the truth. Given the massive commotion caused by the Tibetans that day, there were inevitably those who knew the story.

What to do? The first thought among the tribal leaders was to cancel their trades and exit the city to avoid unnecessary conflict. To be a leader of a mountain village, one must be as level-headed as one is brave; they understood that taking a step back was the only way to diffuse the mounting tension. Yet, entering was easy while leaving was hard. The Tibetans noticed their movements and reacted instantly; a large number of soldiers swarmed the area, surrounding the hundreds of mountain folk with unconcealed hostility.

Most of these people were village chiefs and their trusted kin—the only ones qualified to participate in such trade—and they had come virtually unarmed, never anticipating this turn of events. After several failed appeals, they were forced to abandon their plan to leave. If the Tibetans wanted to kill someone to establish authority, so be it; it was not the first time they had faced humiliation and warnings during these years of occupation.

Once the mountain people were contained, the square returned to an uneasy calm. Everyone waited for the moment to begin. Soon, there was movement: first, the local official responsible for administrative affairs emerged, followed by the Tibetan military commander stationed in the region. When a young man dressed in the garb of a mountain tribesman was dragged onto the platform, a fresh wave of commotion rippled through the crowd.

"It’s Timo!"

A woman named Sindija let out a low cry of shock, immediately covering her mouth.

"Don't worry," a voice whispered. "They cannot hear you."

Liu Ji and his companions did not push into the square. Instead, they found a high vantage point about a hundred paces away, from which they could clearly see everything unfolding.

"We have to go down and save him," the woman said, her heart burning with anxiety at the sight of her beloved.

"Are you blind? There are so many guards. If we go down now, we’ll be killed before we even get close. I guarantee you'll die faster than he does."

Liu Ji’s blunt retort left her stunned. She knew he was right and did not immediately snap back.

"You said you had a way to save him," she pleaded, lowering her pride as she remembered his earlier promise.

"I said it, and I meant it. But not here. To save him, we must exchange him for someone of weight. Now tell me, in this city, who is a figure that both the Tibetans and your King would be forced to bow to?"

Sindija was shocked by his words. Though not particularly clever, she was no fool. Such people existed, but they were kept in heavily guarded locations, and to strike at them would escalate the situation to a point where every member of their mountain villages might be implicated. She did not fear death—she would not regret dying beside her beloved—but she could not rest in peace if she brought ruin upon her kin. She hesitated.

"I suggest you go to the square, wait for them to kill Timo, and die with him. That would end it all."

Liu Ji’s words sent a shiver through her. Watching her beloved die before her eyes was a fate worse than death. Sindija bit her lower lip hard. "Follow me."

The Nepalese royal palace was not far from the square. It was a square, domed structure topped with a spire, occupying a vast area and elevated by several tiers of stairs, appearing majestic and imposing compared to the city’s other buildings.

Hadi Shiryapo walked up the steps with a few attendants. He felt the dismissive glares raining down from above, and without looking up, he knew they belonged to his brothers' men, accompanied by hushed mockery.

"Why is he here?"

"Who knows? Maybe he’s short on women and has come to ask his father for one."

"Ha!"

If this were any other day, he would have ignored the taunts. But today, to the surprise of everyone, Hadi Shiryapo walked directly up to the man who had spoken loudest and smiled.

"Skoky Limi, my brother's dear relative. I heard you sent your sister to his bed and that she is highly favored. I imagine you have more than one sister, yes? And you are right, I am indeed short on women. If you have no more sisters, your wife or daughter will do."

"You..." The man seemed not to have expected such audacity and reflexively reached for the hilt of his blade.

"Swish!" In a flash of steel, before the man could finish, his chest was laid open. It took a moment for the blood to seep through his clothes. He looked down, his eyes filled with disbelief, before collapsing to the ground, lifeless.

Kang Laosi sheathed his blade. Ignoring the shocked gazes of the others, he returned to his position behind Hadi Shiryapo.

"Poor man. My brother will be heartbroken."

Hadi Shiryapo pinched his nose and stepped over the still-twitching body, heading toward the palace gate. The guards at the entrance looked the other way, only blocking Kang Laosi and his men after Hadi had passed through. They quickly dragged the corpse away, and within moments, the blood was scrubbed clean, as if nothing had ever happened.

Those who had been mocking him a moment ago were now deathly silent, not daring to meet his gaze. Kang Laosi looked around and, instead of crowding together, he and his companions moved toward the guards at the gate.

The heavy doors shut behind Hadi Shiryapo with a resounding thud.