Chapter 65: Demand an Explanation!

The afternoon sun still carried its own stubbornness. Even in winter, it continued baking every living thing across the desert.

When the warhorse beneath Zheng Fan finally reached the top of a low hill, the scene revealed below sent a genuine shock through him.

Ahead lay an oasis.

Along its edge, the Heng River—regarded by the barbarian tribes as a blessing bestowed by the Barbarian God—flowed steadily past. To the west of the oasis stretched the Yin Mountains.

A century ago, when war between the barbarian tribes and the State of Yan had burned without end, every barbarian campaign had begun here. The Royal Court’s Golden Tent would be raised at this very place.

This had once been the base from which the barbarian tribes launched their wars against Yan.

But for the past century, this land had remained firmly in the hands of the residence of the Marquis of Zhenbei.

When the first Marquis of Zhenbei was enfeoffed by the Emperor of Yan, he chose this exact place to establish his residence!

The century of peace between the barbarian tribes and Yan existed for two reasons.

First, the khan of that generation had ruined the Royal Court in his western expedition, leaving it weakened ever since.

Second, the residence of the Marquis of Zhenbei had always maintained an uncompromisingly aggressive posture toward the outside world.

And the clearest expression of that posture was... the residence had no walls.

This had been a family rule established by the first Marquis of Zhenbei.

He had not only placed his own home—and the home of all his descendants—in such a dangerous location, he had also left behind an ancestral command:

Never build walls!

The purpose was to force his descendants to live forever beneath the shadow of a possible barbarian resurgence.

To prevent them from becoming addicted to comfort.

To ensure that both the Marquis’s residence and the Zhenbei Army under its command would forever preserve one strategic objective:

Attack.

Attack.

Attack again!

At this moment, Zheng Fan genuinely felt as though he were visiting a historical monument in his previous life.

Through the layout of these buildings, it was almost possible to reach across time and touch the pulse and will of the people who had lived a century earlier.

And standing here now, Zheng Fan truly was shaken by the first Marquis of Zhenbei.

The problem was he had done too good a job.

Or rather, his descendants had inherited his will too faithfully and done far too good a job themselves.

Not only had the Zhenbei Army continued suppressing the barbarian tribes, but even the Beifeng Liu Clan—which had once been enough to make the Emperor of Yan deeply wary—had been suppressed and divided by generations of Marquises of Zhenbei until it no longer possessed even a shred of military authority.

The clan might appear enormous and wealthy.

But in truth, it was merely an enlarged version of a country landlord.

No matter how much gold and silver you possessed, no matter how vast your clan influence before blades, armor, and cavalry, all of it meant nothing.

Zheng Fan even found himself thinking with faint amusement:

There were probably quite a few men like Xu Wenzu, hidden inside the carriage behind him, scattered throughout Beifeng Commandery.

It was just that... they had already come this far, and Zheng Fan still had not killed Xu Wenzu.

Was he truly going to have to enter the Marquis’s residence and search for some random man surnamed Zheng to impersonate his father?

A unit of Zhenbei Army cavalry approached.

In truth, the closer they drew to the residence, the more frequently they encountered scout riders.

This particular unit, however, had come specifically to receive them.

Zheng Fan rode forward and presented his documents and letters.

After the riders inspected everything and confirmed there were no problems, a fifty-man cavalry unit took position at the front and began guiding the convoy onward.

The residence of the Marquis of Zhenbei occupied a unique position not only among Yan’s soldiers, but across the entire military world of the four great states.

Even the rough grunts under Zheng Fan instinctively straightened their backs now, trying to look as martial and imposing as possible for fear of being looked down upon.

The convoy continued advancing.

When they reached the riverbank, Zheng Fan raised a hand and ordered his men to halt.

They had to queue.

There were simply too many convoys ahead.

The Marchioness of Zhenbei was celebrating her birthday.

No family, large or small, throughout Beifeng Commandery would dare omit a gift.

The Yan imperial house and every influential family in Yan had sent representatives.

Even the states of Jin, Qian, and Chu had dispatched envoys bearing birthday congratulations.

“Is that a dragon?”

Zheng Fan pointed toward a carriage in one of the convoys ahead.

The carriage was not merely lavishly decorated.

It was almost twice the size of the carriage in Zheng Fan’s own convoy that held the snow wolf.

And across its outer walls was painted the image of a black dragon.

“Yes, Master.

“Most likely, one of Yan’s princes has come personally.”

The dragon was a symbol reserved for the imperial clan.

Yan revered black.

Accordingly, the imperial clan’s emblem was the black dragon.

“Heh.

“Even a prince who comes to offer birthday congratulations still has to line up for inspection.”

The current Marquis of Zhenbei had already been summoned back to the capital by repeated imperial edicts.

The relationship between the Marquis’s residence and the Yan imperial house had nearly reached the point of drawn swords and strung bows.

And yet today, the imperial family had still sent a prince to congratulate the Marchioness on her birthday.

That alone showed the Emperor of Yan truly felt somewhat guilty.

“Everyone rest!

“Make camp!”

Before the birthday tribute convoy was formally handed over, it could not be left unattended.

Even now that they had reached the entrance to the residence of the Marquis of Zhenbei, they still could not relax.

But with so many convoys lined up ahead, Zheng Fan had no intention of forcing his soldiers to remain standing in formation.

Those who needed rest could rest.

Those who needed food could eat.

Only a tiny handful of people possessed the qualifications to enter the residence and attend the Marchioness’s birthday banquet.

A convoy like Zheng Fan’s naturally had no chance of going inside.

Once his tent had been erected, Zheng Fan entered and immediately found the slovenly man already sitting beside the pot, waiting for Feng Siniang’s dumplings to finish boiling.

The dumpling wrappers were thin.

The filling was generous.

Pork and celery.

By the standards of this world, they were extravagantly luxurious.

Zheng Fan sat down beside the pot as well.

He looked at the slovenly man.

Then reached inside his armor and took out a small iron box.

To a smoker especially a smoker who had transmigrated into another world that iron box and its contents could be called exceptionally precious.

After all, you could hardly walk into the convenience shop outside the residence of the Marquis of Zhenbei and ask the proprietor how much a pack of Liqun cost.

Zheng Fan took out one cigarette and handed it to the slovenly man.

The man accepted it.

Zheng Fan rose and personally lit it for him with a fire striker.

The man accepted that service too.

A woman cooked.

Two grown men sat nearby, smoking.

Not long afterward, the dumplings were ready.

“Siniang, do we still have wine?”

Feng Siniang nodded.

“Yes.”

“Bring it.

“Dumplings and wine.

“The more you drink, the more you’ll have.”

“All right.”

Feng Siniang brought over a jar of clear liquor.

A’Ming had distilled it while making perfume.

Its alcohol content was extremely high.

Zheng Fan personally poured the wine.

First for the slovenly man.

Then for himself.

The slovenly man raised his cup and was just about to drink when he saw Zheng Fan lift his own cup toward him.

A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

The two cups clinked.

When they did, Zheng Fan deliberately held the rim of his own cup slightly lower than the other man’s.

Feng Siniang noticed.

She said nothing.

She merely poured vinegar into Zheng Fan’s dipping dish in silence.

The slovenly man drank his cup in one swallow.

A trace of brightness seemed to appear inside his murky eyes.

He set the cup down.

Zheng Fan prepared to refill it, but the slovenly man raised a hand to stop him.

With some regret, he said, “What a pity.

“I never drank liquor this good before.”

Zheng Fan smiled.

“Then drink a few more cups.”

The slovenly man shook his head.

“Can’t.

“If I drink more, I won’t want to die.”

Zheng Fan placed the entire wine jar at his feet.

“Then drink while you die.”

The slovenly man pointed at Zheng Fan.

Then nodded.

“Makes sense.”

At that moment, the tent flap opened.

Yang Wenzhi entered in full armor and saluted Zheng Fan.

“Lieutenant Commander, this subordinate just went to handle the handover formalities.

“According to the current order, it should be after nightfall before they begin inspecting our birthday tribute convoy.”

This genuinely was a line for delivering gifts.

And the queue would last until night.

“Mm. Understood.

“Go rest.”

Yang Wenzhi acknowledged the order and turned to leave.

Then he suddenly stopped.

He turned back around, bowed, and said:

“Lieutenant Commander, the Pacification Commissioner is still waiting for you to make arrangements for him.”

Zheng Fan smiled.

So it was you.

Feng Siniang smiled too.

So it was you.

Then, Yang Wenzhi smiled as well.

Except...

Yang Wenzhi did not want to smile.

He was smiling now only because the corner of his mouth had twisted sideways.

Then the rest of his face twisted with it.

Then his neck.

CRACK...

The Yang Wenzhi who had been alive a moment earlier turned into a heap of mangled flesh spread across the carpet inside the tent.

Zheng Fan picked up his chopsticks.

He took a dumpling.

Dipped it in vinegar.

Put it in his mouth.

Closed his eyes.

And chewed with great enjoyment.

The slovenly man did not use chopsticks at all.

He simply picked dumplings up with his hands.

They were scalding hot.

He ate them happily anyway.

The three people inside the tent collectively ignored the pile of mangled flesh and continued eating and drinking.

Zheng Fan ate slowly.

The slovenly man still ate like someone freshly released from prison.

Plate after plate vanished before him.

Feng Siniang boiled three full batches of dumplings.

He ate all of them himself.

In the end, Siniang could only say apologetically, “There’s none left.”

No wrappers.

No filling.

Not even enough time to make more.

Only then did the slovenly man put down his plate.

Satisfied, he patted his belly and rose unsteadily.

Standing over Zheng Fan, who was still seated on the ground, he asked, “Tell me again.

“What’s your name?”

“A true man does not change his name whether standing or sitting—

“Fan Li.”

“Then why do all your men call you Lieutenant Commander Zheng?”

“My surname is Zheng.

“My name is Zheng Fan Li.”

“Hahahahahaha...”

The slovenly man burst into laughter.

Zheng Fan laughed along.

The man turned and walked toward the tent entrance.

Zheng Fan rose, picked up the wine jar, and hurried after him.

“Your wine.”

The slovenly man turned, reached out, and took the jar.

The tent flap lifted.

He raised the wine jar and took another deep drink.

Then he began walking again.

His pace looked slow.

Yet he moved incredibly fast.

Afterimages began appearing through the camp behind him.

He reached the carriage containing the snow wolf.

One hand still held the wine jar.

The other lifted the entire carriage.

The four horses harnessed to it began kicking frantically after their hooves left the ground.

They neighed in panic.

Inside the carriage, the snow wolf that had remained sickly and listless the entire journey began howling in terror.

The slovenly man took another drink.

Then, he started running.

One man.

Holding an enormous carriage over his head.

Running through the camp.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

The earth began trembling, as though deliberately accompanying his footsteps with drums.

His momentum rose.

Like a great eagle spreading its wings into the sky!

Along the riverbank, more than a hundred birthday tribute convoys were thrown into alarm.

Nearby Zhenbei Army units were alerted as well.

WOOOOOO—

A bleak horn sounded.

Its meaning was simple.

Enemy attack!

The running continued.

The trembling continued!

Viewed from above, one could clearly see a streak of distorted air racing from the riverbank straight toward the main gate of the residence of the Marquis of Zhenbei.

And from every direction, black torrents formed by Zhenbei cavalry began surging inward!

The residence of the Marquis of Zhenbei had no city walls.

But it did have a gate.

The gate itself was an enormous ceremonial archway.

It had stood there for a century.

Across the top were two characters:

ZHENBEI.

Written personally by the Emperor of Yan of that generation.

On the left side of the archway were four characters:

NEVER BUILD A CITY!

On the right:

WINGS OF THE STATE!

And at that exact moment an enormous carriage came flying through the air.

The four horses harnessed to it, the people inside, the beast inside all of it slammed violently into the ceremonial archway.

BOOM!!!

The archway collapsed.

Sand and dust billowed into the air.

When the dust finally cleared, a huge crater had appeared in the ground.

Beside the crater stood the slovenly man, wine jar in hand.

Then a thunderous shout exploded from his mouth.

Across the riverbank, it rolled like a thunderclap!

“Former Left Guli King beneath the barbarian Royal Court—

“Shatuo Que Shi—has come to congratulate the Marchioness of Zhenbei on her birthday!”

The Zhenbei cavalry that had converged from every direction halted beneath the raised hands of their commanders.

A guest was a guest.

Whether benevolent or malicious, still a guest.

And since a guest had arrived at the master’s door, there were rules to be observed.

Even so, although no charge had been launched, three thousand armored cavalry had already surrounded the slovenly man!

One order from inside the residence and they would immediately cut this barbarian down!

Not long afterward, an elderly voice came from within the residence:

“The Old Marchioness says:

“Many thanks for the Left Guli King’s good intentions.

“If it is convenient, you may enter the residence and drink a cup of wine.”

The slovenly man raised the wine jar and drank deeply.

Then laughed.

“I brought my own wine.

“And I have already resigned from the office of Left Guli King.

“Everything I do today has nothing to do with the Left Guli King.

“Nothing to do with the Royal Court!”

With that, he drank again.

Then shouted:

“Invite the Princess out to meet me!”

After a short while, the elderly voice sounded from inside the residence again:

“The Old Marchioness says:

“The Princess is young and mischievous.

“The Left Guli King is a distinguished elder among the barbarian tribes.

“Do not lower yourself to quarrel with a junior.”

At those words, the slovenly man’s eyes instantly reddened.

A terrifying aura erupted from his body!

He held the wine jar in one hand.

With the other, he pointed toward the residence of the Marquis of Zhenbei.

Every word seemed soaked in blood.

“The Princess is young?

“The Princess is mischievous?

“Then what crime did the five thousand women, children, old, and weak of my Shatuo Tribe commit?

“Today, I, Shatuo Que Shi, have come here not as Left Guli King, but as one of the surviving people of the Shatuo Tribe!

“For the five thousand women, children, old, and weak of my tribe—

“I have come to demand an explanation from the Princess!”

(End of Chapter)