Tigers Sniff the Rose - Chapter 92

Chapter 92

After nightfall, not long after the camp led by the Wuman King had settled, chaos erupted. From all directions, shouts in various languages rang out—

"The Great Wei army is attacking!"

"Get up! Stop sleeping! Our camp is being attacked by the Great Wei army!"

However, three days of constant harassment had caused the soldiers of the envoy delegation’s camp to lose interest. Over the past few days, the Wei army had repeatedly come to harass them, but their force was so weak that they never accomplished much of anything.

Furthermore, tonight the Wuman King had led a large force to attack the Wei army. If the Wuman King won, these minor losses in the camp would be beneath notice.

The soldiers cursed and grumbled, sluggishly and carelessly picking up their weapons to meet the assault. Yet, once they stepped out, they discovered fires rising in all four corners of the camp, with swarms of dark figures darting about. When they clashed, the Wei army—unlike the previous two days—did not retreat, but instead charged head-on to kill!

The soldiers in the camp were suddenly jolted, realizing that this time, the Wei army was launching a genuine, full-scale attack!

Arguments broke out in a jumble of different languages: "They’re after the grain supplies! Don't let them take it!"

"Quick, it’s really the Wei army! Brothers, let’s make sure they don't get out alive!"

The confusion of languages made communication extremely difficult. However, suddenly, a general climbed to a high point and let out a long whistle, drawing the attention of the soldiers. Under the pitch-black sky, a flag was planted on the corner tower, its waving sequence shifting rapidly. Amidst the constant signaling, order was restored to the Wuman King’s camp, and the soldiers began to organize themselves to resist the Wei army.

The general was straining himself to wave the flag manually, finally bringing order to the scattered ranks. As he wiped away his sweat, he suddenly sensed a wave of danger. Looking back, he saw a cold arrow piercing through the night mist, vibrating with a whistling sound as it shot toward him!

Horrified, the exotic general leaped outward, dropping the flag in his hand, and shouted loudly: "The Wei cavalry archers are here too! We cannot let our guard down!"

In the ranks of the Wei army, Yan Shang lowered his bow.

The soldier beside him sighed with regret: "If this were a real battlefield, that arrow just now would have killed him."

Yan Shang shook his head with a smile: "If it were a real battlefield, I wouldn't have been so rash. However, the fact that the enemy learned to use flag signals so quickly—to replace their disparate languages—must be a method the Wuman King devised."

"Even though the Wuman King is not in the camp, he managed to get his soldiers to concentrate this quickly. He has only been training them for less than a month; it is truly impressive."

In the dark of night, Han Shuxing followed by his side. When the enemy charged to strike at the archers, Han Shuxing stayed almost glued to Yan Shang to protect him. As they moved through the camp, Han Shuxing followed closely at Yan Shang's heels.

Because Han Shuxing had been specifically sought out by Mu Wanyao, and because he was a Wuman man himself, he did not look out of place in this camp. When someone noticed him and looked surprised that he didn't seem to be a Great Wei soldier, Han Shuxing struck before the enemy could react, knocking them unconscious or forcing them to surrender immediately.

Those who surrendered were always puzzled, shouting: "Who exactly are you? You aren't a Great Wei man. Why are you helping the Great Wei army? Did we have a traitor in our ranks?"

Han Shuxing was tall and burly, with a scar running across half his face that made him look ferocious and grim. He ignored the clamoring of the enemy soldiers, continuing to follow silently behind Yan Shang.

Yan Shang said: "It is your turn to act."

Han Shuxing cupped his fists: "Take care, Young Master."

Without hesitation, he turned and left, his position behind Yan Shang filled by another Wei soldier. Relying on his exotic appearance, Han Shuxing ventured deep into the camp with ease.

Han Shuxing’s stature was similar to Meng Zaishi’s. In the pitch-black night battle, the enemy lacked a commander-in-chief. Han Shuxing grabbed a general and spoke in the Wuman tongue, his voice harsh: "Stop worrying about the grain! The enemy is attacking from the east; let’s go to the east to meet them."

The captured general was surprised: "Wuman King? Didn't you go to raid the Wei army?"

Relying on the fact that most people were not familiar with the Wuman King's personality, Han Shuxing faked being the ruler, intentionally speaking the Great Wei language with a feigned clumsiness: "If everyone knew my whereabouts, there would be no need for me to command this battle."

The captured general believed him without hesitation and turned to carry out Han Shuxing’s orders.

Han Shuxing ventured even deeper into the camp, spreading rumors everywhere.

The army led by the Wuman King was well-guarded, yet in the dead of night, they were thrown into complete disarray. The tents housing the grain supplies deep in the camp were set on fire, and as the thick flames roared, they were still fiercely clashing with the Wei army.

Because the Wuman King had said: ignore the grain!

As long as they held the camp, the main force would soon arrive to reinforce them!—

Drums thundered, and horns blared with heroic intensity.

Horses galloped, kicking up clouds of dust. The dong-dong-dong rhythm of the drums was invigorating. After determining the strength of the Wei army, the Wuman King chose to lead his main force in a night raid without hesitation.

Night is disadvantageous for combat.

But precisely because it was disadvantageous, it became an advantage.

The Wuman King lined up his horses and formations, drawing the long saber from his waist and pointing it directly at the camp behind the Wei army’s city tower. His heroic spirit infected everyone: "My sons, follow me—charge!"

The army led by the Wuman King was invincible. Whether it was the trenches dug by the Wei army in front of their makeshift city tower or the walls they were building higher by the minute, everything was crushed by the enemy’s force. The enemy used every tool at their disposal—iron cables, chains, spurs... amidst thunderous noise, the Wei army could only retreat again and again.

Enemy cavalry charged into the city. The Wei army resisted a few times, but retreated each time. The momentum of the army led by Meng Zaishi was simply too strong, and their tactics were mature. Many soldiers in the Wei army lost their nerve the moment they saw the ferocious faces of the enemy.

When the iron hooves of Meng Zaishi’s force crossed the first trench, the Wei cavalry were still hurriedly lining up. However, because the enemy charged in too quickly, the cavalry formation was incomplete, and they had no choice but to let the infantry engage.

In the plains, cavalry are the strongest.

For cavalry, the difference between ten miles and a hundred miles is negligible. On the battlefield, in the era of cold weapons, the cavalry is the undisputed king.

However, for cavalry to attack, they must first form up and have distance. Once that distance is gone, they cannot charge.

Now, the Wei army was being pushed into such an embarrassing predicament by the Wuman King’s army—they had arrived too quickly.

News had only just arrived, and formations were only just beginning to form, when the enemy cavalry had already reached the front of the tower. At such speed, the Wei army could not arrange their cavalry and could only use infantry and crossbowmen to fight off the enemy cavalry.

And in the dark of night, the effectiveness of crossbowmen was truly limited.

The infantry collapsed rapidly under the assault of the cavalry.

The Great Wei army was in danger!

Several generals left to guard the position turned pale as they heard the constant reports of crisis coming from outside. Although the order from the center was for them to lose, and although they were here to buy time for Yan Shang... losing so quickly was still a massive blow.

Losing so easily, without even a semblance of resistance—would the center blame them?

As the generals were discussing this, the tent flap was suddenly lifted, and a young man’s voice called out: "Why not send the cavalry out?"

They looked up to see Wei Shu.

Wei Shu’s features were delicate, and this time he had been responsible for managing the grain supplies. Moreover, because Wei Shu was silent and rarely spoke, he had been like a transparent person in the camp.

In the midst of the chaos, this young man who never cared for their battle affairs lifted the curtain to rebuke them. The generals looked embarrassed and said: "The cavalry cannot form ranks and cannot charge out. This is a matter of war; what do you understand?"

Wei Shu ignored their skepticism and said: "How can you not form ranks? If you push over all the camp tents and smash the pots and pans in the rear to clear space, won't you be able to form ranks?"

The generals were stunned.

Then they said: "You want to destroy the grain camp? Then what will we eat tomorrow?"

Wei Shu’s expression was cold: "I have already had a group of soldiers take some grain and flee. Even if the grain, pots, and pans are all destroyed, as long as we last until tomorrow afternoon, the military exercise will be over. It’s only half a day; no one will starve."

These generals were all young talents; at first, they simply hadn't thought of such a "break the cauldrons and sink the boats" method.

Now that Wei Shu had suggested it, it wasn't as if they couldn't make the decision. Several of them slammed the table: "Good! Pass the order: flatten and destroy the camp! Cavalry, form ranks! We will stay here tonight and have a real showdown with the enemy! Even if we must lose, we cannot make it too easy for the Wuman King!"

After persuading the generals, Wei Shu left the camp to check on the grain supplies.

The enemy’s vanguard was now weaving through the city, though the main army was still being blocked. But that likely wouldn't last long. Wei Shu had to hurry to move the grain and clear out a space for his own cavalry to charge.

As a logistics person, he only needed to ensure there was enough grain for tomorrow so they wouldn't starve.

Fires were burning everywhere, and the two armies were locked in combat. Whenever Wei Shu saw fighting, he detoured around it, protected by the soldiers following him, and made his way to the grain camp.

Suddenly, a long saber smashed toward Wei Shu from the darkness. It was silent, and no one reacted. The blade only revealed its icy, sharp intent when it was right before him, forcing Wei Shu to look up in a daze. The saber cleaved down horizontally; the enemy wielding it was imposing and fierce, speaking in broken Great Wei: "Surrender quickly!"

Wei Shu pressed his lips together and remained silent: at such a critical moment, if he surrendered, who would be responsible for the grain camp?

He would naturally concede, but not now.

Wei Shu remained silent, and the enemy did not pause his blade; he swung it directly toward him. The military exercise wouldn't cause deaths, but injuries were unavoidable. Wei Shu was forced to stumble backward by the blade; a few soldiers rushed up to block the enemy, but they were surrounded and dealt with by more of the enemy force.

Wei Shu fell to the ground. As the blade was about to cleave down on his head, he still refused to concede. As the blade was about to pierce his chest, a hand suddenly reached out from the side, pulling Wei Shu up.

That person spun, bringing their palms together to parry the stabbing blade. After a sharp cry, the sword at their waist was drawn to meet the enemy.

Weapons clashed, and sparks flew.

The enemy exclaimed: "You are a woman? Good men don't fight with women."

This woman’s martial prowess was excellent, yet her voice was very crisp and delicate: "Only those who cannot beat a woman say such boastful things!"

The young woman who had suddenly appeared was, naturally, Zhao Ling.

Zhao Ling pulled Wei Shu with one hand while parrying the enemy with the other. The enemy could gain no advantage from her, and in his fury, he had no choice but to retreat. Zhao Ling turned back and looked at Wei Shu.

Wei Shu’s features remained cold and pure, shimmering with a layer of snow-light.

The two spoke at the same time—

Zhao Ling glared: "Why didn't you just surrender?"

Wei Shu: "Where did you pop out from?"

Then, the two of them froze in unison.

Zhao Ling puffed out her cheeks: "I’ve been following you the whole time! Second Brother Yan told me to protect you; did you think I was the kind of irresponsible person who would just run away and leave you behind?"

Wei Shu took a step back, putting his hands behind his back, turning his face slightly to the side, pressing his lips together as he frowned in a slightly conflicted manner.

He thought in confusion: What did "following him the whole time" mean? Did she know everything he had done? He hadn't done anything strange, had he?

The sound of the horn blew even more urgently.

Hearing the sharp horn, Zhao Ling and Wei Shu both looked up. Then, Wei Shu’s wrist was grabbed by Zhao Ling again, her speech rapid: "The enemy is charging the city again! Follow me—"

Wei Shu: "No. I’m going to the grain camp."

Zhao Ling: "What time do you think it is, still worrying about grain? There must be a lot of enemies there, and I can't handle it."

Wei Shu did not speak.

Zhao Ling assumed he agreed with her.

But just as Zhao Ling released Wei Shu’s wrist to switch her sword to her other hand, Wei Shu turned and left. Seeing the direction he headed, he was indeed going to the grain camp, leaving Zhao Ling stunned.

Zhao Ling stomped her feet.

She yelled: "Hey—can you speak or not! Even if you insist on going, you could at least tell me properly... We are partners, not enemies. Hey, wait for me! If you bump into the Wuman King directly, you’ll have to rely on me to save you!

"Say something! Why did Second Brother Yan let me watch over a dull block of wood like you? You’re suffocating me!"

Grumbling and cursing, Zhao Ling still chased after Wei Shu, full of anger—

Standing on the high mountain, the army led by the Wuman King had been charging for less than half an hour when the main force broke through the Wei army’s city gates.

Then the gates were smashed open, and the Wuman King’s army confronted the Wei army’s cavalry.

Meng Zaishi showed no fear, taking the lead and meeting the charge first.

Flames of war and the white flags of constant surrender burned on the ground. Both sides fought with bloodshot eyes, and inevitably, deaths began to occur, but neither side cared anymore. In the heat of the slaughter, Meng Zaishi received news that an urgent report had come from his own camp, asking the Wuman King to return for reinforcements.

Meng Zaishi said coldly: "Tell them to hold on."

The reporter said: "King, they can't hold on... It is Yan Er who personally led people to burn our grain, and he even found someone to impersonate you. We were all fooled at the beginning. We have suffered heavy losses..."

Meng Zaishi: "After I settle things here, I will go back to reinforce them. Seal the news; except for me, no one is allowed to pass it on. If anyone dares to shake our army’s morale, I will treat you as a traitor!"

The Wuman King remained unmoved, clearly determined to take down the Wei army even at the cost of his own camp suffering heavy losses. The reporter had no choice but to follow the King's orders.

This battle lasted for two hours. As time passed midnight and it reached the fourth day of the military exercise, the Wuman King finally forced the Wei army to surrender, winning this battle.

Without a moment’s hesitation, after dealing with the bulk of the army, the Wuman King turned his horse around and left, leading his army to support his own camp.

The two armies engaged, and in the middle, there was a pocket-shaped gorge. This gorge faced the direction of the envoy’s army and was easy to defend but hard to attack. Since it was also the shortest route back to the camp, Meng Zaishi chose to take this path after only a brief moment of thought.

Dense clouds obscured the moonlight in the sky. The trees in the forest were shady, and horses kicked up dust as they galloped.

Thousands of cavalry followed Meng Zaishi to reinforce the camp. But as they entered the gorge, Meng Zaishi in the lead suddenly raised his arm, pulling the reins and bringing his horse to a halt. His mount let out a long whinny, its hooves kicking up high; Meng Zaishi sat steadily on his back, confronting Yang Si—the Third Young Master Yang—who was leading a hundred men to block the road on the other side of the gorge.

Meng Zaishi glared: "Make way!"

Yang Si sat on his horse, laughing nonchalantly at the thousands of troops before him: "The grain hasn't finished burning yet, so how could I let you pass?

"But Wuman King, you are too slow. I’ve been waiting for you for so long, I was about to fall asleep."

Meng Zaishi: "Third Young Master Yang, you have only a hundred cavalry, and we have over a thousand. Do you think you can stop me? Even with the advantage of the terrain, you cannot hold me back! It would be better to surrender early to minimize losses. That way, you’ll look better when reporting to your leader."

Yang Si lowered his eyes, a strange smile flickering across his face.

When he raised his head slowly, Yang Si’s gaze met Meng Zaishi’s.

Both men had murder in their eyes, both remembering the unfinished battle at South Mountain.

Yang Si said word by word: "It’s a pity I’m not the type to care if my battle report looks good; I only care about a duel with the Wuman King—come!"

As soon as his voice fell, he took the lead and charged his horse forward, his men following close behind. The Wuman King’s side did not hesitate either; with a wave of his hand, a thousand soldiers charged out.

The two armies collided in the gorge. There was no moon in the sky; it was the perfect time for a night battle!—

Relying on the terrain and extreme mobility, Yang Si actually managed to block the enemy army attempting to rush out of the pocket-shaped gorge.

Yang Si was also feeling the thrill of battle, leading his team in a fierce fight. Surrenders occurred constantly, and Yang Si’s hundred men were also constantly being unhorsed. Yet Yang Si pressed forward, his heroic momentum causing the enemy to panic; he actually managed to open a gap in their ranks.

Meng Zaishi: "Surround him! Shoot him off his horse! Capture Third Young Master Yang alive, and the opposition will collapse without a fight!"

Yang Si laughed aloud.

The two sides clashed, and frightened birds flew out of the forest. A young hero like Yang Si grew more vigorous the longer he fought. Dozens of cavalry surrounded him, but they couldn't force him off his horse. However, as time dragged on, Yang Si did have fewer men. Amidst the chaotic rain of arrows, his prized mount finally collapsed to the ground with a thud.

The enemy army was emboldened: "He’s finally off his horse! Charge!"

Yang Si leaped from his horse, rolling on the ground to dodge the iron hooves stepping from all directions. No sooner had he risen than a horse raised its hooves to stomp him down. Even Meng Zaishi’s expression shifted, thinking that if Yang Si were trampled to death, it would be difficult to explain to Great Wei.

But in that instant, everyone heard a horse let out a miserable, long whinny as it was thrown to the ground. A youth leaped up from the ground, his spear stained with blood, leveraging the horse's fall. The horse lying on the ground had its belly pierced through by the spear, blood gushing out like a fountain. Everyone around them felt a wave of horror, their faces turning pale.

They looked at Third Young Master Yang, who was surrounded by the horses, as if he were a monster.

His long hair fell down, a lock sticking to his face, horse blood splattered across his features. Yang Si stood with his spear in hand. His strength alone made the men surrounding him hesitate; they didn't dare to charge, fearing their own horses would be injured.

As soon as Meng Zaishi saw this, he knew these mobs were feeling sorry for their horses again. His expression remained unchanged as he shouted: "Are you confused again?! These are horses provided by Great Wei, not our own! In a military exercise, you only need to fight; you don't need to consider external factors!"

Meng Zaishi pointed his saber at Yang Si and shouted: "We have over a thousand men and hundreds of horses, and we can’t even take down one Third Young Master Yang who has lost his horse?!"

Dust swirled, and Yang Si held his long spear as the horses began to circle him. His eyes flashed, watching for an opening, ready to seize any opportunity to charge out of the horse formation. However, with Meng Zaishi commanding personally this time, such mistakes were unlikely to be repeated. Yang Si soon gave up on that possibility, and when the blades and spears on horseback swung toward him, he began looking for chances to seize a horse.

Meng Zaishi grew irritable: "Third Young Master Yang, still not conceding?"

Yang Si laughed aloud: "Is the King anxious? Only after you take me down can the King return to reinforce! Why doesn't the King try another path!"

Meng Zaishi: "Looking for death!"—

Due to a momentary fit of pique, Meng Zaishi was blocked here by Yang Si and his fewer than a hundred men. But Meng Zaishi soon realized that being impulsive was inadvisable. The terrain here was not advantageous for attacking, and Yang Si was so stubborn... If he really stayed here for two hours, it was likely that the camp would fall completely, and he would turn victory into defeat.

Meng Zaishi gritted his teeth: "Retreat! We take another way!"

Yang Si laughed: "You say you’ll come, and you say you’ll go; do you take us for so casual—"

Yang Si threw the spear in his hand, shocking everyone; they hadn't expected that he would not only hold his ground with so few men but actually dare to attack?!

However, once he calmed down, Meng Zaishi was completely unaffected by Yang Si’s strike. While having some men block Yang Si and the others, he began to withdraw from the gorge. Yang Si fought fiercely, but with over a thousand men determined to leave, he truly couldn't hold them.

The large army withdrew from the gorge and took another path.

Yang Si, covered in blood, stood on the open ground in front of the gorge, with a few panicked men following him. Some had already surrendered, while others still persisted. But the Wuman army had already retreated.

They thought in confusion: Did they... complete the task?

Several people looked at Yang Si, their blank expressions mixing with a trace of excitement: "Third Young Master... did we win... on this road? Did the Wuman King flee?"

Yang Si did not answer them. He stepped back three paces and fell to his knees. The hand holding the spear was trembling faintly; the blood on his face reflected in his eyes, making his pair of starry eyes appear even more wild and untamable.

Yang Si let out a long breath.

He fell backward and lay on the ground, panting.

He suddenly laughed aloud: "I won—!"

The crowd was stunned, then they all began to laugh, sitting down in small groups, starting to joke and tease their companions about why they had conceded so quickly. The atmosphere in the gorge became joyous. Regardless of the outcome of the military exercise, they had made a contribution on this road.

Without worry, the laughter of the youths rang through the gorge. Yang Si lay on his back, panting as he watched the starry sky overhead.

Stars filled the sky, clouds obscured the moon, and the birds that had been scared off by the battle returned cautiously.

Yang Si closed his eyes, as if he could still feel the feeling of boiling blood from just moments ago—

Battle, battlefield. Hot blood, prized horses... all of this made him infatuated—

When Meng Zaishi arrived at the camp, the grain had already been burned to the ground, and Yan Shang had led the Wei army to surrender directly.

When the sky was turning light, the Wei army had been completely defeated. Standing on the scorched ruins of their own camp, the envoy army led by the Wuman King became the victors of this military exercise.

The atmosphere on the envoy side relaxed, and they were very happy, just waiting for the military exercise to end.

Meng Zaishi, however, did not look pleased.

He asked the happy people beside him: "There is still half a day left. Our grain supplies have been completely burned. Have you thought about what this many troops will eat and drink for this half day?"

The subordinates looked around blankly and said: "...It was all Yan Er’s trickery; we didn't look after the grain at the beginning."

Someone said optimistically: "Then we’ll just be hungry for half a day, it doesn't matter."

Meng Zaishi looked indifferently at this mob he was leading and said: "On a real battlefield, if you are cut off from grain for half a day, your combat power will drop by half. If the Wei army attacked again, we would be finished."

Someone said unhappily: "It’s just a military exercise anyway... Besides, we had a total victory. Why must the Wuman King be so harsh?"

Meng Zaishi crossed his arms and looked at them: "The Wei army came to harass us three or four times specifically to numb us, so that by the time the Wei army actually attacked the camp for the final time, we would have relaxed our vigilance, allowing them to win. We won the majority of this battle, yet we suffered consecutive losses in two small areas. You call this a total victory?"

Everyone was speechless.

Meng Zaishi stopped paying attention to them, stepping toward the camp to check how badly the grain had been burned and if anything remained. However, if his predictions were correct, Yan Shang wouldn't have left him anything.

Sure enough, there was nothing left.

Standing in front of the thoroughly burned-out grain camp, after the initial excitement, everyone began to worry about being hungry. Meng Zaishi sighed, remaining silent.

Although they had won the battle, having to be hungry for half a day... there was a feeling of being defeated even in victory.

Yan Shang, Yang Si, and even... Wei Shu, who took the initiative to destroy his own camp to make space for the cavalry to form ranks.

If these few grew up, they would be formidable enemies.

However, Meng Zaishi looked back at these envoys and saw that none of them noticed, all just worrying about being hungry. Meng Zaishi shook his head and stopped speaking with this mob—

On the fourth day, the military exercise ended, and everyone reported the situation to the Crown Prince and the Prince of Qin. The Crown Prince and the Prince of Qin thanked the envoy delegation for their hard work and didn't mind their own side's defeat. Afterward, the two led everyone to see the Emperor.

The Crown Prince said: "Father has also been waiting for the results of your exercise. Regardless of who won or lost, tonight there will be a reward for all the generals. Whether it is the Great Wei soldiers like Yan Er, or the envoy army led by the Wuman King... Father says you are all young heroes, and he has written poems and essays for you, and had them set to music for the world to sing."

Meng Zaishi looked at those Great Wei youths and smiled: "In that case, I, an exotic person, will be able to live in the legends of your Great Wei people?"

The Crown Prince smiled: "I’m afraid so. Is the King willing?"

Meng Zaishi said half-jokingly: "Naturally, I am willing. Interacting with the young Great Wei generals makes me feel how many talents Great Wei produces, which is very stressful. I intend to use this as motivation; I must improve our military power after returning to Wuman... I cannot lose to Great Wei."

Another envoy asked from the side: "Where is the Emperor of Great Wei?"

The Crown Prince looked casually into the distance: "The literary contest has already ended, and the results were announced today. Father has gone to see the literary contest presided over by Sixth Sister."——

Thus, at sunset, the youths and teenagers all went downstairs together, mounted their horses, and under the leadership of the Crown Prince, galloped all the way to pay their respects to the Emperor.

Leyou Plain was a vast expanse, completely different from the crowded streets and pavilions of Chang'an city. Fearing they would hurt ordinary people, they loosened their reins, riding freely and galloping across the long road!

How unrestrained and elegant—

Inside a pavilion, the Emperor sat quietly, gazing at his youngest daughter. Mu Wanyao, in a red skirt and snow-white skin, sat beside him, evaluating the results of the literary contest.

And the Emperor looked at her, just as he had been gazing at her for a long time every day for the past few days. At first, Mu Wanyao felt creeped out by the Emperor’s gaze, but after these few days, she had become accustomed to it.

After announcing that Great Wei had won, Mu Wanyao was about to wave for people to withdraw, but there were those in the envoy delegation who were unconvinced.

Someone said: "Are we really so much worse than Great Wei in literary talent? Why is Her Highness the Princess qualified to be the judge? Could it be that the Princess is a master in all the talents we competed in?"

The Emperor looked at them with a smile that did not reach his eyes.

Mu Wanyao raised her gaze toward the crowd and said coldly: "I am not a master, but I am proficient in all of them. What, do you want me to enter the contest?"

There was a commotion among the envoys, and then one person was pushed forward: "This is the best zither player among us; Her Highness the Princess commented that it was 'like plucking wood.' We truly find that hard to accept. We want to know what it is like when the zither is played in a way that is not 'wood.'

"We know Her Highness the Princess is a master of the konghou, so we dare not humiliate ourselves. As long as Your Highness can convince us with the zither, we will never question your judgment again."

The Emperor watched them with interest and also felt a stir in his heart: in the past, Mu Wanyao was said to have "mastery over both talent and music." However, Mu Wanyao had not been seen fussing over these things for many years; she still played the konghou as well as ever, but had her zither skills grown rusty?

Mu Wanyao looked at them and said decisively: "Xia Rong, fetch my zither."——

Willow and elm catkins danced in the air, like floating down and falling snow.

At dusk, horses galloped, heading straight for the pavilion.

The noble men and women on the road, as well as the ordinary people, heard the sound of horse hooves and hurriedly made way. They saw a group of young men and women riding toward them, leaves and flowers flying in their wake, rushing toward the pavilion where the Emperor was located.

The youths and teenagers on the horses, the young masters and young ladies, were all handsome and beautiful. Such heroic and elegant style, such youthful years, filled one with admiration.

Someone who recognized them said: "Isn't that the Wuman King? Has the exercise ended? Who won?"

Someone counted the heads on their fingers:

"That is the Wuman King Meng Zaishi, that is Third Young Master Yang Si, that is Second Young Master Yan Shang, and over there is Seventh Young Master Wei Shu... Eh, why is there a woman? That is Fifth Lady Zhao Ling."

"Have they all just retreated from the military exercise grounds?"

The young men and women rode past the people in a flash, and when they arrived in front of the pavilion where the Emperor was, the horses stopped one by one.

The world was silent, and they heard the sound of a zither coming from the pavilion above, and could not help but look up.

They saw the Princess of Danyang sitting under the window, her fingers plucking the strings. The zither’s melody poured out from beneath her slender fingers, the tone leisurely yet containing a trace of unrestrained, murderous intent.

Layered clouds were thick in the sky, and the red sunset covered the heavens; the young lady sat in the high pavilion, and as she plucked the zither, she lowered her eyes to look at them.

Yan Shang, Yang Si, Wei Shu, Meng Zaishi, and Zhao Ling all gazed in a daze, listening to the leisurely zither music, as if placed in a wondrous world of high mountains and flowing water—

Willow catkins flew all over the sky, sunset clouds were like weaving, and the sound of the zither circled the rafters and leaped like a clear spring.

A beauty sat in the high pavilion. To look at her was a delight to the eyes; to see her was joy to the heart.

Never to be forgotten—

Sunset clouds filled the sky, and the canopy of heaven darkened. Lanterns were lit one by one, and the lights flickered. Suddenly, a eunuch interrupted their reverie: "The Emperor is serving a meal—

"Everyone, please follow this old servant upstairs!"