Ji Hua, enraged by Zhan’s words, swiftly shifted the blade from Na Yan Xing’s neck to point directly at Zhan, his eyes blazing with fury. Of course, Guang Zhao Yun, standing behind Zhan, would not tolerate this. He drew his long sword in a flash, locking eyes fiercely with Ji Hua.
“You seem to have forgotten…” Qing Yun’s soft chuckle broke the tense silence. “You seem to have forgotten that I’m the one making the demands here.”
Faced with Zhan’s cold mockery, Qing Yun maintained his composure, taking a sip of tea before continuing with a smile. “That’s right, I do like her. And not having her makes me want her even more. What’s wrong with that? Which man hasn’t loved a beautiful woman? There’s no shame in it. But you—you used a woman who’s loyal to you as a pawn in your military strategy. Shouldn’t I be the one feeling disappointed?”
Zhan felt a flicker of irritation at Qing Yun’s veiled jibe. “Speak your terms.”
Qing Yun smiled. “I already did.”
Zhan also smiled. “And I already said, that’s impossible! If you don’t want to waste time, propose terms that we can both accept. Otherwise, we’ll fight to the bitter end, and the victor will be decided on the battlefield.”
Qing Yun looked at Zhan, knowing full well that he would never agree to the original conditions. Desperation can drive someone to extreme measures, but Na Yan Xing alone wasn’t enough to tear down the great empire Zhan had built.
After a moment of contemplation, Qing Yun spoke coldly. “The cities of Xueyuan, Gua Zhou, Weak Water, and Jiandu—all will belong to Tiandu. Additionally, there will be a thirty-day ceasefire between our nations. Those are my terms, and they are simple.”
Zhan snorted. “Four cities? They’re just three hundred li from my Yunpei border, and yet you refuse to promise a complete ceasefire? After thirty days, you’ll be able to march right up to our gates and occupy the best positions to launch attacks on Yunpei’s lands. Isn’t that a bit selfish?”
Qing Yun chuckled. “If you’re that afraid of me, you can surrender now.”
Zhan glanced over at Na Yan Xing, still held tightly, then turned back to Qing Yun. “In fact, I have another option, don’t I? For instance, I could destroy the flags and refuse the talks. We could fight for three more years, maybe more. Yunpei can handle that.”
Qing Yun stared into his tea, watching his reflection in the cup. “Don’t waste my time. I won’t hesitate to kill him right here.”
Zhan’s expression grew cold, and he fell silent.
* * *
In the year 318, the thirty-fourth king of Yunpei, King Na Jing, passed away. He left behind nine concubines and seventeen sons, with only the seventeenth prince, Na Yan Xing, being his biological son. At the time, the young prince was not yet four years old, unable to read or write, and completely isolated. The Supreme King Na Qida, prioritizing the stability of the kingdom, chose Zhan as the new king and gave him a scroll detailing the strategies for building the nation, then passed away.
This monumental secret was buried along with Na Qida. From that day forward, the one who sat on the throne in Guang Han Palace and received the ceremonial bows was not a true heir of Yunpei’s royal bloodline, but the boy Zhan, picked up by the Supreme King during his travels in the desert. Zhan, born a genius, had ruled Yunpei for thirteen years, establishing an empire more glorious than any in history. His accomplishments were unparalleled, and the people’s admiration for him reached unprecedented heights. Yet, no one knew that this perfect king had no royal blood. He had fulfilled the words of the wise monk Rong Ruo: “Blood does not control fate; a people’s rebellion will not lead to their downfall.”
Zhan revered and respected the Supreme King. To fulfill his wishes, Zhan had worked tirelessly, dedicating his every day to the affairs of the nation. His efforts were worthy of heaven and earth. However, there was one matter that still troubled him—the whereabouts of the former king’s only son, Na Yan Xing, remained a mystery despite seven years of searching.
An enemy who does not know the most vulnerable scar in your heart cannot become your true enemy.
Without threatening Yunpei’s borders, using the life of this innocent prince in exchange for four cities and a thirty-day ceasefire was a condition Zhan could not refuse, no matter how much he detested it. In truth, both men knew that the real loser in this game was Qing Yun, who had been driven by his obsession for a woman.
Zhan adjusted his posture and looked at Qing Yun’s face, seeing the obvious anger there. With a bitter smile, he said, “Sign the agreement. You must give him to me, and I’ll agree.”
Qing Yun rose slowly. “I’ll release him after thirty days. It’ll be written in the agreement.”
Zhan stared at him. “How do I know you won’t go back on your word in thirty days and play this game again?”
Qing Yun burst into laughter. “If the same trick still works after thirty days, then you’re truly useless!”
At that moment, Tiandu’s scribe, Priest Soulran, entered the tent carrying a tray with a stack of silk scrolls on it.
0 Comments