Lace Glory Universe King GL - Chapter 13

The streets of Chang’an at dawn were even more desolate than at night.

Hua Mulan walked aimlessly, without the slightest trace of drowsiness. She recalled that when the Office of Works first proposed to shelter Sun Shangxiang, she had felt a secret sense of relief—this way, if the princess stayed under their watch, Mulan would have a chance to spy on Sikong Zhen’s movements.

But events had changed too quickly. A large-scale raid in Changle Ward meant her tracks had been exposed. By seizing Sun Shangxiang in the middle of the night, there was no chance the little princess would be treated kindly. The only question was—how much did Sikong Zhen already know?

If they traced her all the way to ChangLe Ward, they would surely go and question her former informant, Gongsun Li. From A’Li’s testimony, they would at least learn there were two of them—one wielding a sword in front, another firing from behind. Their partnership would become obvious.

And then there was that flyer about the Seaside Battleship.

The more she thought, the more Mulan blamed herself—for not acting sooner, for not planning more carefully.

The heavy night thinned, the first light of dawn spilling into the sky.

She stopped her endless wandering steps and decided to take a gamble.

Few shops in Chang’an stayed open twenty-four hours, and “Xingyi” was one of them.

The signboard on the first floor still displayed the bold characters Xingyi Restaurant, but climbing the steep metal staircase led instead to a rooftop bar.

It was said the building had indeed once been a five-story restaurant, but after bankruptcy, several owners rented different floors: the lower levels became small shops of all kinds, while the rooftop and terrace were transformed into a bar. With striped blue awnings pulled overhead, the owner hadn’t even bothered to change the name—thus the restaurant became the bar known as Xingyi Restaurant.

As a restaurant, Xingyi was too elegant a name. But for a bar to bear the same sign? That was sheer whimsy. Yet it was precisely this ironic mismatch that made business surprisingly good.

Now, just past five in the morning, there were still more than ten guests on the rooftop.

Hua Mulan had once greeted its patron at a Chang’an official’s banquet, and heard that this royal capital spy was nocturnal—prowling crowded corners of the city all night long.

Those furry, oversized ears could belong to no one else. The small-statured figure lounged in a wicker chair, speaking with two others.

“Good evening,” Hua Mulan approached.

Li Yuanfang looked up, his ears twitching. For a moment he didn’t recognize her. “You are…?”

“At Lord Di’s residence, we met,” Mulan blinked.

To most, a single meeting would leave no impression—especially with her now disguised. But Li Yuanfang was born with flawless facial memory, never forgetting a face.

“Oh! I remember, I remember!” He rubbed his tall, upright ears, then turned to the table: “Gentlemen, excuse me for a moment. We’ll resume after.”

The two men didn’t seem offended; one simply raised his brows and went back to his hushed conversation with the other. Mulan caught a fragment: “That’s why this job is impossible.”

Li Yuanfang led Mulan past the tents to the terrace railing.

“How has the General been lately?” he asked. He knew she was here for intelligence, but he asked after her first.

“Not well. The Office of Works is hunting me,” Mulan said coldly.

“So that’s it. They’ve been making quite the stir tonight,” Yuanfang had already caught wind of it at his last stop.

“You’re always well-informed, Lord Li. They dragged away the Princess of Wu in the middle of the night. I’ve no idea what they’re planning.” Mulan dropped the hint deliberately.

“He already petitioned Ziwei Palace to take her in, didn’t he? Half the city knows. Why should the General be so tense?” Yuanfang said this on purpose too—baiting her to fill in the blanks.

“Last night, the princess and I happened to both be in ChangLe Ward. He discovered me first, then seized the princess.”

“Quite the coincidence.”

Mulan lowered her gaze to meet his sharp eyes. Both knew exactly what the other meant.

“Just as you suspect,” she smiled.

“Did you use your skills there?” Yuanfang asked.

“…Yes.”

“I heard the Office of Works recently hired a forensic master—one who can identify the traces of every hero’s abilities on the continent.”

So that was it. They must have identified Whirlwind Blossom from the wounds of those guards—or perhaps from Gongsun Li herself.

“No wonder.”

“What exactly are you two doing? I really can’t make sense of it,” Yuanfang muttered, hands sinking into his pockets.

“So Lord Li knows something, then.”

“What I know is far less than what those in the middle of it do.” His keen eyes flickered.

The two fell silent.

The dawn breeze carried a trace of chill across the rooftop. Perhaps summer’s days were numbered.

“The last time we met, he was also at Lord Di’s celebration,” Mulan recalled from two years ago.

“Yes. Back then, the Grand Sikong and we had not yet become so…” Yuanfang trailed off. Of course, he stood firmly on Di Renjie’s side.

“There are matters you should keep an eye on for Lord Di. He may be trying to stir trouble with Eastern Wu,” Mulan finally broke the silence.

“Thank you for the warning, General.” Yuanfang hadn’t known that piece.

“You’re in Chang’an, close to him—seen anything?”

“Not much. He sent his own men to the Great Wall as tax envoys—you must know that. His deputy has been recruiting informants constantly. And… he’s suddenly taken interest in mechanical arts, contacting all sorts of artificers in secret.”

“Mechanical arts?” Mulan frowned. Sikong Zhen despised machinery. In his eyes, even Great Wall’s Shield Mountain was inferior to a brute.

“Yes.” Yuanfang searched his memory. “If all this ties back to Eastern Wu, then seizing the princess was to pressure them?”

Mulan shook her head. “The princess doesn’t side with Sun Quan. At most… she’s useful to bait me.”

Yuanfang chuckled.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just think he miscalculated. Would General Hua knowingly walk into the tiger’s den?”

A heaviness pressed on her chest, but she didn’t answer.

When Yuanfang was startled, his ears spread wide. He turned toward her—her tall silver hair was slightly disheveled, her striking, severe face now weary.

“If he’s setting a trap, why charge straight in?”

Mulan leaned her arm against the iron railing, easing part of her weight. “No matter what, I’m not his top priority. He can’t guard the Office twenty-four hours. When Ziwei Palace summons, please pass me a message—I’d be grateful.”

“Fine. Where should I leave it?”

“Here at Xingyi Restaurant. I’ll tell the counter to expect it.” She shifted sideways, ready to take her leave.

“General…” Yuanfang stopped her, meaning to warn her kindly.

She waited.

“If you barge in recklessly, you’ll only hand him an excuse to make a spectacle of it. Of course, the cost is yours to bear.”

“Sometimes, one can only act without regard for cost.” Mulan raised a hand in thanks.

Sooner or later—it was only a matter of time. She knew it in her gut: anyone bleeding the Great Wall of funds wasn’t up to honest business. Her instincts as a patrol guard never failed her.

When facing multiple foes, her favorite move was Radiant Bloom of Ferocity.

Such as now, with the Office’s guards forming a half-circle around her.

To her eyes, they were little more than targets. Their black-clad menace meant little—in holding formation, they only hindered their own strikes.

Her blades gleamed cold and bright.

Fearless, she spun through them like a wheel, her body sweeping across the line. Steel clashed, ringing sharp and clear up close, chaotic and deafening from afar—shattering the stillness of the Office of Works.

One round complete, she switched back to twin swords in hand, readied her dash, and shifted ground—slipping to the side courtyard, scaling the eaves, ears pricked. She needn’t search—Sun Shangxiang would surely signal her.

Swish! Swish!

The sound of Whirlwind Blossom daggers cutting air.

“Sister! I’m here!”

As expected!

While the front guards fended off the airborne blades, Mulan drew her greatsword, half-charged—then released—

Boom!

More than enough to shatter windows and doors. She hurled the Heavy Repeater Crossbow inside.

Her plan held true: with Sikong Zhen away, his elite troops would guard Shangxiang’s location. No need to search—just find her weapon at once.

She took several arrows in the charge, but now a partner covered her back.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The repeater’s shells thundered with dull, explosive force.

A squad fell; the rest staggered, slowed.

Mulan vaulted the wall. Shangxiang sprinted from the smashed window, leaping out.

“Keep distance!”

Shangxiang understood. She turned, sweeping fire as she retreated.

The heavy crossbow grew hotter, its barrel nearly spitting flames.

Old Jin had said—this weapon built power through kills. The more it reaped, the deadlier it became.

Mulan could not close in now, only point out paths from above.

Though the Office compound was small, its layered walls rose high—nested like petals of a peony, dense and overlapping.

Shangxiang fought fiercely below when suddenly a lightning bolt struck from the heavens—straight into Mulan.

“He’s back—run!” she cried, her last warning.

Shangxiang looked up in horror—Mulan toppled from the wall. She rushed to catch her.

At the same time, Sikong Zhen descended like a thunder god, his massive form wreathed in endless lightning, terrifying to behold.

Mulan coughed blood, pale as paper.

Shangxiang hoisted her onto her back, skillfully vaulting to escape.

She could scale walls—but for Sikong Zhen, such heights were nothing.

And her final roll skill had already been spent.

Behind them, thunder crackled and hissed, like something burning to ash in fire—like death’s footsteps closing in.

“General Hua, you’re already at death’s door,” Sikong Zhen’s mocking voice rang.

Support Lace Glory Universe King GL