Chapter 54: The Arrival of the Liao People

“Damn it! Come on, pretty boy, let me show you just how fierce I, Nairu, can be!” Enraged by his companions’ mockery, Nairu’s bloodlust surged. He no longer bothered with his fists but brandished his blade, leaping into the air and bringing it down on Shen Shi with the force of a mountain cleaving blow.

Shen Shi frowned slightly but immediately understood—the wild cries meant the man was aiming for his life.

With a sudden lash of his leg, Shen Shi delivered a swift, whiplike kick. Though he moved second, his speed outstripped his foe, sending the Liao warrior Nairu flying through the air to crash into the corridor wall.

Under the incredulous gazes of all present, the burly and powerful Nairu was sent hurtling across the room, landing with a crash.

“Nairu! Nairu, are you all right?” The faces of the other Liao warriors changed subtly.

Nairu was not their strongest, but Shen Shi looked so feeble that the image of a Song Dynasty scholar sending a Liao warrior flying was jarring and unreal.

At that moment, Nairu felt as if a galloping horse had struck him at the waist; his organs seemed to shift within him. With a guttural cry, he coughed up a mouthful of blood.

“Well done. Very well.” The Liao leader’s facial muscles twitched uncontrollably; rage welled up inside him as he felt the dignity of the Liao people openly challenged. All he wanted now was to exact revenge at any cost.

He waved furiously at his men. “What are you waiting for? All of you, kill him!”

Obeying his command, the Liao warriors drew their swords, abandoning their posts and charging at Shen Shi with murderous intent. Judging by their aura alone, it was clear these men were hardened veterans who had seen real battle.

The Qian brothers, Liu Yuance, and the others, witnessing this, had long since hidden under the tables, trembling with fear. Only Shen Shi remained, surrounded and facing a dozen armed men alone.

“Courting death,” Shen Shi sneered coldly.

In an instant, his figure flickered like a phantom, darting into the midst of his attackers.

Shen Shi had originally come from a military family, possessing outstanding physical prowess. Now, after rigorous training and tempering, his body alone contained strength enough to break bones with a single blow—no need for sword or blade. The enemy’s broadswords couldn’t even graze the hem of his robe, let alone touch him.

In less than a minute, the floor was littered with Liao warriors who’d raised their blades against him, now writhing and groaning, clutching broken arms or shattered legs.

To face a force of that magnitude with one’s body meant limbs snapped at the slightest contact.

“He… he actually beat them all?” Gongsun Ce and Kong Xueli stared in disbelief as if they’d seen a ghost.

Especially Kong Xueli, who’d known Shen Shi for years and was aware of his military heritage, yet never imagined Shen Shi could fight with such ferocity. The original Shen Shi had often been the victim of schemes—yet here he was, unstoppable.

Kong Xueli glanced at the Qian brothers cowering beneath the table, thinking how fortunate they were not to have been struck by Shen Shi’s fist.

The Qian brothers themselves were just as stunned. This was the first time they’d seen Shen Shi fight so fiercely. The thought of having bullied such a formidable man, as the Song Dynasty’s teachings had encouraged them to, sent a chill down their spines.

This scene was even more shocking than what had happened on the boat. The threat of violence in the flesh was far more immediate than any mere display of skill.

Under the astonished eyes of all, Shen Shi walked over, calm and at ease, and stood before the sole remaining Liao leader.

“Oh? Now, do you understand that the Great Song is not so easily entered?” he said quietly.

The entire hall was silent.

The Liao leader’s eyes bored into him, his face turning green, then white, then purple. He had never expected a reversal here. Liao had forced Western Xia to cede land and make peace; Western Xia had forced Song to sign humiliating treaties—surely Liao was the strongest. So why had his elite warriors been so utterly defeated by a single man? This youth’s strength was beyond terrifying; with such ability, why be a mere scholar? In Liao, he’d at least be a commander of a thousand.

His men were beaten, but he himself showed no great alarm. Instead, he replied coolly, “Young man, you fight well. But so what? I am a Liao subject, even a captain serving the Liao envoy. Do you dare lay hands on me?”

That was his confidence—so long as he declared his diplomatic identity in the language of the Song court, he believed no one in Song would dare touch him.

“Heh… So, honored envoy, would you care to explain why you’re not in the capital, but have come to Zhejiang North Road instead?”

Seeing the man’s absolute confidence, Shen Shi frowned, a killing intent rising in his heart.

“Lord Bao, please return to your room. I have matters to discuss with him alone,” Shen Shi said calmly.

Shen Shi was not a native of Song and felt no fear of the Liao. He only wished to spare Bao Zheng from being implicated.

The others were bewildered—first the Liao, then an envoy, now an official? Was this all a dream?

“Wait.”

Bao Zheng did not return to his room but came down from upstairs. With his guards Wang Chao, Ma Han, Zhang Long, and Zhao Hu at his side, he said in a low voice, “Shen Shi, ask him if he’s brought troops into the region.”

“What’s going on?” Shen Shi asked.

“Sigh. I’ll not hide it from you. Though the Western Xia have retreated, the Liao are sure to take advantage. According to the court, the Liao have already marched south…”

The Great Song was everyone’s scapegoat—whenever one vulture struck, others would come to feed.

To deal with Western Xia and oversee their withdrawal, almost all Song forces in Zhejiang North Road had been redeployed to the border, leaving the region defenseless.

With such weakness, it would be a miracle if the Liao didn’t seize the chance to plunder.

“All the way from the capital, Wang Chao and Ma Han found traces of cavalry movements. I’d thought it was just our own army’s redeployment, but now… I fear it’s not Song troops at all,” Bao Zheng said, deeply concerned.

“Then, my lord, do you know how many Liao troops have come south this time?”

“…”

“Who is commanding them?”

“…”

“At least their military objective—do we know what it is? Are they after grain, or are they planning to capture cities?”

One question after another, but the answer to all was the same—no one knew.

“Now that their tracks are revealed, he must know. That’s why I came down here,” Bao Zheng explained.

It was best not to put much faith in Song’s intelligence or military power. After Western Xia’s successful trick, whether the Liao would come was a grave concern.

And now, with Liao warriors appearing in the inn, whether they would come was no longer in question—the only matters that remained were how many, where they were, and what they intended to attack.