Chapter Forty-Nine: Three Pursuits and Three Captures

Propping herself up, she looked around and saw the ranks of Nangong soldiers standing in formation. Once again, she had been brought to the entrance of the Nangong camp where she was first captured, and was unceremoniously thrown to the ground.

Qingyun gave a peculiar smile. "You're much less capable than I imagined."

Wiping the cold water from her face, she slowly recalled what had happened before she fainted: the inexplicable tea stall, the money-grubbing old man, and that bowl of wine. She sneered inwardly, then looked at Qingyun and said, "If that old man hadn't tricked me, you might not have caught me at all!"

Qingyun burst out laughing, tapping her forehead with a finger. "You still haven't figured it out? In the middle of nowhere, where would anyone set up a tea stall? It was all arranged by me."

Kaiming, startled, exclaimed, "The old man, the tea stall—it was all your doing?"

Qingyun pressed her lips together, unable to hide his amusement. "I thought you were clever, but it seems you're quite foolish. Listen, the first time I tried to capture you, I had the soldiers make noise in the woods to reveal their position, driving you toward the trap—you should have been on your guard. But then you made the same mistake a second time."

"How so?" she frowned. "No one drove me anywhere that second time."

"The second time, I received information that you'd discarded your clothing. You certainly wouldn't run naked through the woods, so it was most likely you blended in with the soldiers. Sure enough, an unconscious soldier was found, so I set another trap. I had someone mention the tea stall ahead. That way, even if you saw it, you wouldn't be suspicious."

"The mistake you made was the same as before—I had the soldiers leave you an escape route during the encirclement, just as before, only this time, the trap was the tea stall."

As she listened, Kaiming glared at him, her brows raised.

Clearly enjoying his own cleverness, Qingyun continued, "The old man was, of course, one of my soldiers in disguise. The conversation between him and the others was meant to put you at ease, so you'd drink that bowl of wine without suspicion..."

"You drugged the wine," she said coldly, finishing his sentence.

Qingyun smiled. "You've learned to be clever. So, you lost the second round as well."

"If they were all your people, why not just arrest me outright? Why go to such lengths?" she demanded.

"Don't you think it makes the game more interesting?" Qingyun replied with a mischievous grin.

"Dangerous man," she muttered stubbornly, turning her head away. "I'm still not convinced!"

Qingyun's smile faded. "A wager must be honored. I won't give you endless chances."

"One last time!" Kaiming's eyes flashed with hope. "Third time's the charm. I promise, this is the last time!"

Qingyun gazed at her in silence. She smiled gently, "In any case, you're so clever, General. You'll catch me in no time."

Qingyun's lips curled into an odd smile. "You said it yourself—three times and no more. But heed my warning: if you're caught again..."

"Kill me, flay me—do as you will!" she interjected quickly, winking at him.

Qingyun's smile widened as he flicked his sleeve at her. "My patience ends with the third time!"

Overjoyed, she wasted no more words. With a leap, she sprang from the ground and disappeared in a flash.

The Nangong soldiers were even more bewildered. "General, what about...?"

"Don't worry," Qingyun replied. "At most, by the second watch tonight, I'll have caught her again."

"You sound so sure?" A cold voice came from behind. The soldiers immediately stood at attention. Qingyun was taken aback for a moment, sighed softly, and turned around.

Behind him, a pair of bright eyes shone in the dying light of sunset, brows drawn even tighter than usual. Sikong wore a loose, pale robe, its hem brushing the ground, and light-soled shoes of the same color.

"I hear you made a foolish wager with the captured female soldier from Zhonggong," Sikong said icily, regarding Qingyun. "Is the strategist of our camp so idle as to play childish games?"

Qingyun smiled faintly. "I merely gave her a chance, nothing more."

"Just one chance?" Sikong's gaze grew colder. "You have let her go and captured her twice, and still she shows no sign of surrender."

Qingyun inclined his head. "There will not be a third time, Commander. You have my word."

Sikong stepped closer, his eyes sharp as blades. "Qingyun, is there something between you and that woman that cannot be spoken aloud?"

Qingyun was momentarily taken aback. "Commander, what are you implying?"

"We grew up together—you think I don't know you? You've always been clever and proud. My father has admired you since we were children, pitied your orphaned state, and cherished you more than his own son. We're friends, aren't we? Tell me honestly—I won't tell anyone. Is there something between you and that woman..."

"Sikong, as your friend, let me assure you that your suspicions are baseless—it isn't anything like that!" Qingyun replied gravely.

"Is that so?" Sikong's narrowed eyes turned dangerously crescent-shaped. "So, you're a paragon of virtue. Let's hear the truth from her own lips, so Father can see what kind of hypocrite you really are!"

"Sikong, you're going too far!" Qingyun's fists clenched within his wide sleeves, trembling slightly.

"This is a battle between the two of us," Sikong murmured close to his ear. "It's always been this way, hasn't it?"

Qingyun frowned at him, but Sikong only smiled back.

Only one last chance remained. Qingyun had made it clear—he would not be lenient again.

Kaiming leaned against a tree trunk, gazing at the distant flicker of the Nangong camp through the darkness, lost in thought. Qingyun was a master of strategy; her petty tricks stood no chance against him. How could she defy expectations and win against all odds?

To win by surprise? A normal escapee would panic and flee by any means possible. But if she did the opposite... Her eyes darted as a plan formed in her mind.

She would bet everything on this.

The soldiers reported in succession: "Nothing to the east."

"Nothing to the south."

"West and north, no sign either."

Qingyun acknowledged them, starting to pace in place. Sikong settled into a nearby chair, watching with malicious amusement. "What's this? Even the great strategist is caught off guard?"

Qingyun managed an awkward smile. "It seems this time, she's determined."

"Still, she's no match for the great Qingyun," Sikong replied mockingly. "We're breaking camp tomorrow. You'd best settle this quickly, or the Zhonggong will mock us for letting a mere soldier outwit the Nangong strategist."

With that, he rose and returned to his tent with his guards.

"General," one of his soldiers said worriedly, "Commander Sikong has always resented you. If you give him anything to use against you, he won't let it go lightly."

Qingyun reassured him, "Don't worry, I won't hand him any weapons."

His personal guard made his bed. "I hope things go as you say. Frankly, I don't think you should have let that Zhonggong soldier go."

Qingyun sat down, drumming his fingers idly on the table. "Do you think I was wrong?"

"I wouldn't presume to judge. You are always shrewd beyond ordinary men; your actions are not for others to guess." The guard shook out the bedding and approached, intending to help him undress.

"Not for others to guess?" Qingyun echoed, a thought sparking in his mind.

"General, we must rise early tomorrow. You should rest," the guard urged, seeing him lost in thought.

But Qingyun's eyes grew ever brighter, his expression more animated. "Not for others to guess... Would she do the opposite, then? What a clever girl!"

The guard looked at him in surprise, but Qingyun stood abruptly and ordered, "Summon the team that tracked her last time. No one is to sleep tonight—we're going to catch a cunning little fox."

Using the same trick, Kaiming knocked out a soldier who had left camp to relieve himself, donned his uniform, and pulled the helmet low over her face. Who says you can't use the same method twice? This time, it worked perfectly.

Boldly, she strode through the camp gates. The plan she'd conceived by chance was simple: since escape was impossible, she would return instead. Qingyun was clever, but he would never suspect that she wouldn't simply flee, but instead would return to the camp and brazenly appear before him.

She grabbed a passing soldier. "Brother, where is the strategist's tent? I've just received the latest intelligence from Zhonggong."

The soldier, not daring to be careless, personally escorted her to the tent and whispered, "This is it."

After thanking him and making sure he had left, she did not rush in. Instead, she circled the tent, observing. The area was pitch dark and silent, except for the footsteps of patrolling soldiers.

Inside, all was quiet. It seemed the occupant was already asleep.

She waited and watched for a long time. Finding nothing amiss, she drew her dagger from her belt, lifted the tent flap, and slipped inside. As she entered, a row of eyes, glittering like fireflies in the darkness, emerged outside, gradually surrounding the tent.

Inside, guided by memory, she crossed to the bed in three swift steps, reaching the figure lying there. The person stirred in surprise, but she quickly pressed the cold blade to his throat. "I've caught you, Strategist," she whispered.

Suddenly, a burst of laughter rang out from the shadows—clear and crisp, making her hair stand on end. "Are you sure you've caught who you think?"

A candle flared, illuminating the tent. Qingyun was sitting calmly at the table, his eyes glinting with triumphant amusement.

She was struck with terror. If Qingyun was there, then who was on the bed? She turned to see a panicked, familiar face.

"My bodyguard," Qingyun explained. "To catch a big fish like you, I had to use proper bait."

With a rush, soldiers poured into the tent, weapons at the ready, forming a solid wall around her. Not even a bird could escape now.

Her hand trembled, the blade at the young guard's throat quivering, making his face go pale with fear.

"You do have some wit, knowing to advance by retreating," Qingyun said softly. "But unfortunately, your opponent is me."

She said nothing, her face as pale as the guard's, despair flooding her heart. What kind of man was this? Why could she never escape his net? Was there any hope of winning against someone like him?

"This was the final round," Qingyun said, rising to his feet. His gentle eyes suddenly grew sharp, piercing straight to her most vulnerable spot. "You have lost."