Transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty as a County Magistrate (GL) - Chapter 89

89: Reviving a Dead Piece

“If I am not myself, then who does the chief think I should be?” Tian Qingyi obediently knelt on the prayer cushion beside Ma Zhusege, pretending to pray to the Buddha while thinking to herself, A ruthless person like him actually believes in Buddhism? What a supreme irony!

“Your mission has failed.” Ma Zhusege stated the worst outcome in the calmest tone, clearly showing no interest in further philosophical discussion about identity.

Tian Qingyi looked at the towering Buddha statue and replied neither humbly nor arrogantly: “This humble one has indeed failed. But even if the chief were to take over this mission, you might not achieve better results.” The implied meaning was: You assigned me an impossible task – my failure was inevitable.

Unaccustomed to humbly referring to herself as “this humble one,” Tian Qingyi could only endure it, as the original host had always been this deferential to Ma Zhusege.

Both Tian Qingyi and Ma Zhusege clearly knew that rising from a low-ranking capital official to chief minister within ten years was nearly impossible without substantial backing or extraordinary luck.

“Indeed so. Although your mission failure is understandable, while the death penalty may be waived, living punishment cannot be avoided.” Tian Qingyi expected a rebuttal, but Ma Zhusege directly admitted he couldn’t have done better either.

In truth, Ma Zhusege was satisfied with Tian Qingyi reaching her current position in just ten years. The original mission had merely been to test Guihai’s loyalty and dedication.

Clearly, Tian Qingyi had worked diligently without slacking – only her loyalty to the Khan was now questionable!

“This humble one knows the rules.” Tian Qingyi quickly stood up, retreated three paces, and drew a prepared dagger to press against her neck. “The chief saved my life, which I’ve yet to repay. I would never implicate the chief in disloyalty. Only by returning this life to the Khan can both sides be satisfied. Having failed the mission, I die without regret. I only beg the chief to spare my elder sister’s family for my sake.”

What ‘death penalty waived, living punishment unavoidable’? It was just psychological manipulation to make her grateful and continue serving them. So she escalated – if they wanted loyalty, she’d give them the performance of it, if not the real thing.

By only mentioning Liu Daniang’s family and not Yun Jingchu, she hoped Ma Zhusege still believed she only cared about Liu’s family. After all, the original host would sacrifice anyone except Liu Daniang and Ma Zhusege.

Completely unprepared for this move, Ma Zhusege paused his prayers briefly before realizing this was both a show of loyalty and a threat. Understanding this, he didn’t stop her but instead gazed devoutly at the Buddha and casually said: “Before Buddha today, I want no lies. Is Yuchen Dongxue?”

Shocked that Ma Zhusege had discovered this after all, Tian Qingyi quickly concealed her surprise and firmly insisted: “No!” The moment she spoke, an arrow pierced her left calf. The impact and pain sent her kneeling forward, bl00d dripping from the wound as the dagger unconsciously left her hand.

Though in great pain, Tian Qingyi’s mind had never been clearer. She didn’t know how many people Ma Zhusege had brought, but killing her would be effortless for him. Yet he hadn’t – instead demanding the truth. Did that mean he had reasons not to kill her?

“I won’t ask again.” Ma Zhusege withdrew his outstretched left hand and resumed praying, not even glancing at her.

“…Yes.” With circumstances against her and unsure how much Ma Zhusege knew, Tian Qingyi could only admit it.

“Why did you betray me?” Ma Zhusege finally turned to look at her, his sharp eyes revealing nothing of his thoughts.

Kneeling three paces away, Tian Qingyi vehemently argued: “This humble one never betrayed the chief! I only acted out of longing for family – the chief knows how much my elder sister meant to me. Had I known she would leave this world, I’d never have done it.” Her voice carried hints of grief and anger by the end.

Tian Qingyi deeply regretted Liu Daniang’s death. If not for her selfish desire to break free from control, she wouldn’t have sent for her, and Liu wouldn’t have died on the journey – nor would Shi Wan have lost his life.

Ma Zhusege spoke with rare anger: “Then why didn’t you tell me?” Clearly accepting her reasoning but not her independent action.

“Would telling the chief have helped?” Tian Qingyi’s hoarse voice was full of resignation. “They were just the Khan’s hostages to control me. Even if the chief kindly wished to reunite us, the Khan would never have permitted it.” She painted the Khan as the truly unreasonable one.

Ma Zhusege finally lost his composure, because Tian Qingyi spoke the truth – family members were spy hostages. Whether the Khan would approve didn’t matter – he himself wouldn’t have allowed it. Her words showed she remained loyal to him, if not the Khan.

The hidden archer felt inexplicable sorrow. Though he didn’t know who this person was or what mission had failed, their shared longing for family resonated deeply – as fellow Liao spies, he understood completely.

“Did you summon me across great distances just to atone through suicide?” Ma Zhusege still remembered Liu Erniang’s stubbornness. With pretenses dropped, it was best to get to the point.

“I’ve heard the chief admires Central Plains paintings and especially chess. Then you must know even a dead piece may revive. I have the resolve of a dead piece, but beg the chief to show me a chance at revival. Otherwise, a truly dead piece loses all value.” Tian Qingyi felt her chess studies had finally proved useful.

After a long silence, Ma Zhusege finally stopped praying and walked over to study Tian Qingyi intently before asking seriously: “What do you want?”

Even under Ma Zhusege’s gaze, Tian Qingyi showed no fear. Despite her messy state, her eyes held convincing determination, clearly resolved not to compromise easily.

“What I want is simple – to live like an ordinary person, peacefully, not in daily fear.” This was Tian Qingyi’s constant longing, so she spoke with particular force.

Ma Zhusege suddenly laughed loudly: “How can life always go as one wishes? A dead piece is just dead – replacing you would be easy.” As if her life meant nothing to him.

But if it truly meant nothing, someone of Ma Zhusege’s status wouldn’t have risked coming so far.

“The chief’s kindness will be repaid in my next life. This humble one only wishes to atone through death.” With no chance to negotiate, she might as well not bother. Tian Qingyi again raised the dagger to her throat.

The moment it touched skin, Ma Zhusege swiftly knocked it away, exasperated: “With the death penalty waived, why seek death? Isn’t living better?”

“With my elder sister gone, life holds no hope. The chief can save me temporarily, but not forever.” Seeing he wouldn’t kill her, Tian Qingyi grew bolder.

Ma Zhusege glared at the depressed-looking Tian Qingyi, barely restraining the urge to slap her. After a long pause, he finally compromised: “You should know reviving a dead piece has its price.”

Tian Qingyi immediately looked up hopefully: “I understand the rules. If the chief is willing, this humble one will serve as your eyes in the Song court.” The difference between spy and informant was vast – not just in affiliation but having choice in participation.

“Not enough. Three more tasks.” Recalling how all previous spies planted in the Song court had become dead pieces, Ma Zhusege finally compromised for the bigger picture and that sliver of compassion.

Even someone as ruthless as Ma Zhusege felt rare compassion for Liu Erniang: First, her exceptional talent made saving her worthwhile; second, her loyalty to him seemed unquestionable, he relished being more important than the Khan to a subordinate; third, she never forgot her roots, showing yearly gratitude after gaining status.

Most importantly, Liu Erniang was his trusted aide; such people naturally received different treatment.

“Two tasks.” Tian Qingyi calmly sheathed the dagger and began bargaining, negotiations required give-and-take.

“Three. Not one less, or no deal!” Ma Zhusege stood firm, unwilling to compromise further. Though he’d yielded, there were limits.

“If no one but the chief will ever know my identity, this humble one will follow your lead.” With bargaining failed, Tian Qingyi fearlessly added this demand while showing “loyalty.”

“Agreed. Henceforth, only I will know your identity.” Ma Zhusege took out a booklet, flipped through it, tore out a page and tossed it before Tian Qingyi.

Would the Khan hold him accountable? Impossible! Between hunting and wars with Goryeo, the Khan barely remembered such trivialities, let alone Ma Zhusege’s typically vague reports.

Tian Qingyi immediately struggled up and limped over to examine the page detailing the original host’s origins and history. Dragging her injured leg, she hobbled to the altar and burned this page representing shackles, then leaned against the altar in relief.

Ma Zhusege watched silently until certain she wouldn’t act further, then issued his first demand: “First task – kill the traitor Yuan Changzhong within a month.”

The name sounded familiar, wasn’t this the “Yuan” Minister Wang had asked her to monitor? That Yuan Changzhong was a Liao traitor surprised her. “Agreed.” As a traitor, she needn’t hold back.

“Second task – within three months, I want the military rosters and defense layouts of Hebei and Hedong circuits.” Though Liao had many spies, military intelligence was hard to obtain.

“Agreed.” With her position in the Ministry of Personnel, this wouldn’t be difficult. Historically, no major Liao-Song wars followed – the impact should be minimal.

“The third task remains undecided. I’ll inform you later. Here’s wound medicine.” Ma Zhusege tossed her a small porcelain vial from his sleeve. As she caught it, he turned to leave, a black-clad figure flashing past her.