Chapter 361: Drunk

He really was somewhat drunk.

Just not *that* drunk.

But in circumstances like these, being drunk—and letting himself ramble drunken nonsense—was precisely what allowed the entire matter to be covered over.

Was Zheng Fan worried that the First Prince might reveal the fact that the real Savage King was in his hands?

Truthfully no.

The First Prince’s decision to hand that “dowry” force over to Zheng Fan was itself an investment.

And Zheng Fan was the company being invested in.

Years ago, Zheng Fan had possessed only seven sycophants at his side and no capital at all. He had been forced to beg everywhere for connections until, in the end, he managed to secure venture funding from Little Sixth.

Now?

He was still losing money.

And one could safely predict that anyone investing in him today would continue losing money for years to come.

Profit?

The odds were so small they could practically be ignored.

Dividends?

Forget it.

But the problem was that Zheng Fan had already achieved a certain scale.

He controlled the strategic stronghold of Snow Sea Pass.

He had been enfeoffed as Count Pingye.

The Snow Sea Cavalry was still small, but given time to develop, its future was unquestionably promising.

So if the First Prince wanted to get on the train now, the most he could do was participate in a Series B financing round.

Count Zheng was no longer the penniless loser begging for startup money.

If you wanted to invest in him now, the required “resources” and “price” were both far higher.

And even then, you would receive no real voice in decision-making.

Certainly no authority to determine direction.

In fact, you would have to take the initiative to help preserve the existing structure.

That was precisely the First Prince’s position.

His “military life” had essentially ended.

What remained of his “political life” amounted mostly to serving as a marriage-alliance tool.

He wanted to buy a late ticket and climb aboard.

Even though he had always been the eldest brother, now he could only become a “third brother.”

And even that position was unstable.

Investing in Count Zheng already effectively placed him inside the “Sixth Prince faction.”

Perhaps Count Zheng simply had not lived through Little Sixth’s brilliant childhood years with him, so he did not understand just how heavily favored Ji Chengjue had once been.

But the First Prince would rather invest in Little Sixth than ride the favorable wind of his Second Brother, the current Crown Prince.

That alone said plenty.

A relationship driven entirely by profit became too cold and distant.

Steel that was too hard broke easily.

But if personal feelings accumulated too heavily, the relationship became a tangled mess.

The ideal arrangement was to tune the two into the proper balance.

Using the slightly unrestrained language permitted by drunkenness, General Zheng had given his promise.

The First Prince surely understood it.

This investment might produce no return at all for a very long time.

But at least he had obtained a fallback route.

A certainty.

As for the dowry why refuse something free?

And even once the First Prince received that dowry, he could not use it himself anyway.

It had to be sent somewhere.

Naturally, he might as well give it to someone he found more pleasing.

Count Zheng’s luck during actual battlefield fighting had always been terrible.

Something unexpected seemed to happen every time.

But when it came to making powerful people look at him favorably?

Throughout his career, Count Zheng had genuinely never lost to anyone.

Sha Tuo Queshi back home.

The Sword Saint now.

Hadn’t both effectively been won over by his face?

Just imagine the future.

The Sword Saint recovered.

Sha Tuo Queshi’s bloodline advanced another step.

Even if neither returned to some mythical peak, and both merely recovered to their original Third Grade—

Sha Tuo Queshi on the left.

Sword Saint on the right.

That was practically an imperial-class bodyguard formation.

Why were so many deals discussed over drinking tables?

Because alcohol created more room for probing.

True mixed with false.

False mixed with true.

Everything became easier to maneuver.

Xue San entered.

“Master, shall we interrogate him now?”

Zheng Fan waved a hand.

“Leave him hanging for a day.

“I’m going back to sleep.”

Count Zheng knew exactly what level of opponent the Savage King represented.

Even if the man had become a prisoner.

Even if he could only kneel before Zheng Fan now.

If Zheng Fan intended to cross swords with him in conversation, he needed to ensure his own mind was at its absolute sharpest.

There could be no carelessness.

So Xue San took the Savage King away.

With Xue San and Fan Li watching him tonight, there was no possibility the man would stir up trouble.

As for Zheng Fan, he pulled the quilt over himself again.

Madam Ke brought hot tea.

Zheng Fan accepted the cup and took a sip.

The tea tasted... so ordinary.

Almost regretfully, his gaze swept once across Madam Ke.

Her face immediately flushed scarlet.

“Nothing else.

“You can go rest too.”

“Yes, Count.”

Madam Ke withdrew.

After returning to her own room, she vigorously fanned her slightly burning face.

Heaven knew why she had behaved so wildly during the first half of the night.

Still men who had never been fathers and women who had never been mothers could not understand the pain of swollen breasts.

Her child simply could not drink that much.

And her milk supply happened to be excessive.

So during the first half of the night she had somehow, as though possessed by a ghost...

Now, thinking back to the Count’s gaze when he drank tea earlier, Madam Ke suddenly realized something.

Had the Count really been unconscious from drunkenness earlier that night?

...

The latter half of the night passed peacefully.

Zheng Fan slept until late morning.

He did not even have time for breakfast.

He dressed, mounted a horse, and rode outside the fortress to see off the First Prince and the eunuch who had carried the imperial decree.

The eunuch’s party was already waiting.

The First Prince had more “wives,” however.

Two of the seven savage women already showed signs of pregnancy.

That meant more carriages.

More baggage.

And more time needed before departure.

General Zheng had always believed the First Prince had made an enormous contribution to the great cause of resisting and weakening the savages.

Seven savage women.

Suppose each remained on the snowfields and gave birth to six children over the course of her life.

Assume half the children died before adulthood.

That still meant twenty-one additional adult savages.

Then chickens laid eggs, eggs hatched chickens, and the cycle continued.

Calculated this way the First Prince could practically be said to have destroyed an entire savage tribe!

Of course, a joke like that belonged strictly inside Zheng Fan’s own head.

He absolutely could not say it to the First Prince’s face.

“Count, this gift is far too generous.”

The eunuch carrying the decree was surnamed Liu.

Within the palace, Eunuch Liu belonged to the more senior generation of attendants.

“Eunuch Liu came such a long way. The journey was difficult.

“This little token is only proper.”

“Heh heh heh.”

Eunuch Liu covered his mouth and chuckled.

“Then this old slave will accept it on behalf of Sixth Highness.”

Hearing this, Zheng Fan’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Still, his expression did not change.

He merely nodded.

He could not determine whether Eunuch Liu was speaking truthfully.

But there was no need to verify it either.

After the events of these past few days, Zheng Fan felt he should reassess that “good little brother” of his with fresh eyes.

Before, he had sometimes felt guilty over repeatedly squeezing Little Sixth dry.

Squeeze.

Squeeze again.

Then squeeze harder.

Now, however perhaps Little Sixth had deliberately been letting go.

Letting go once.

Then again.

Then again.

Perhaps he had already intended to dispose of the things in his hands.

If so, rather than throwing those assets into the trash, why not throw them at Zheng Fan?

At least there would be some sound when they landed.

Sometimes loss was exactly what created gain.

The Blind Man had investigated Little Sixth’s maternal clan before—the Min Clan.

In earlier years, the Min Clan had occupied a position somewhat similar to Shen Wansan during the Hongwu era of the Ming.

And, naturally, their eventual fate had been somewhat similar as well.

A merchant could build his business as large as he pleased.

But if he did not understand politics eventually he would still be finished.

Little Sixth might have inherited some of the Min Clan’s legacy.

But could anyone really say Ji Chengjue did not understand politics?

The more Zheng Fan thought about it, the more amusing the situation became.

Back when he had possessed nothing, he had simply hoped to bump into some fallen, idle prince and extract his first pot of gold.

Somehow he might genuinely have hit the jackpot and found a true hidden dragon lying beneath the abyss.

Zheng Fan himself had never remained absolutely vigilant toward Little Sixth.

But Siniang had arranged precautions long ago.

When staffing Shengle City’s core positions, she would rather use members of the Wen Clan than place the shopkeepers and managers sent by Little Sixth in truly critical posts.

At last, the First Prince arrived.

A long line of carriages followed behind him.

Zheng Fan exchanged formal farewells with both parties.

Then he escorted them another ten li before finally turning his horse back.

When he returned to the secondary residence, lunch had already been delivered.

Zheng Fan ordered the Savage King brought up.

Before long, Gou Moli arrived.

Xue San had informed him that the Master intended to invite him to eat.

Then, the Savage King saw an extremely long table assembled from multiple tables placed end to end.

Its shape resembled the absurdly long dining tables used by noble families in certain Western films.

Count Zheng sat at the northern end, facing south.

The Savage King sat at the opposite end.

Xue San and Fan Li stood on either side of Zheng Fan.

Safety.

Safety.

Maintain a safe distance.

Very important.

When dealing with the Savage King, no degree of caution could be considered excessive.

Hadn’t Situ Lei’s entire illustrious career ultimately been buried at this man’s hands?

“Count, Little Dog offers you a cup.”

Once his chains were removed, the Savage King lifted his cup toward Zheng Fan in a distant toast.

The table really was absurdly long.

Zheng Fan lifted his own cup, swirled it once, and took only a tiny sip.

The Savage King picked up his chopsticks.

He took a piece of meat and placed it into his mouth.

He chewed slowly, visibly savoring it.

One could easily imagine how miserable his life had been these past days.

Because of his hangover, Zheng Fan still had little appetite.

He merely used a spoon to drink chicken soup from the bowl before him.

Seeing this, the Savage King smiled.

Then stopped being polite.

He began eating with tremendous enthusiasm.

Business could wait twenty minutes for a meal.

However stingy General Zheng might be, he was not so petty that he would begrudge someone one full stomach.

Around twenty minutes later, the Savage King finally seemed satisfied.

He put down his chopsticks.

Then patted his stomach.

Zheng Fan picked up the white cloth beside him and dabbed the corner of his mouth.

The gesture made the Savage King slightly surprised.

At that moment, Madam Ke entered with two cups of tea.

One went to Gou Moli.

The other to Zheng Fan.

The Savage King lifted his cup, took a sip, and praised:

“Excellent tea.”

Zheng Fan lifted his own cup.

Took a mouthful.

Then—

“Grrrghhh... hrrrghhh... ptoo!”

He spat the tea he had used to rinse his mouth into the small copper basin Madam Ke held in her other hand.

“...”

The Savage King.

The meal was over.

Zheng Fan leaned slightly back in his chair.

His gaze remained level with Gou Moli’s.

The Blind Man was not here.

So Zheng Fan himself had to conduct this first round of confrontation.

Liang Cheng was unsuitable for this work.

He knew how to command armies, but was not especially adept at this sort of interpersonal struggle.

In the prequel to his old comic, it had even been established that Liang Cheng’s personality was too rigid and unwilling to bow his head, which had once led him to experience the fate of “when the cunning hare is dead, the hunting dog is cooked.”

Fan Li?

That idiot was even less suitable for conversation.

Zheng Fan was afraid Fan Li might choke the Savage King to death.

As for Xue San...

Mm.

Having him sit at the table would damage the dignity of the state.

Now that the Savage King had eaten and drunk his fill, he immediately entered his role.

Tears began falling at once.

No emotional buildup.

No rubbing garlic beneath the eyes.

The moment the scene required tears, the tears arrived.

“Count...

“I...

“I...

“I’ve suffered so terribly.”

Watching him, Zheng Fan suddenly felt as though he had finally encountered an opponent capable of matching him in high-level acting.

He did not hurry to speak.

He simply allowed the Savage King to continue performing.

Gou Moli sniffled and sobbed for a while.

Eventually, when Zheng Fan still gave no reaction the tears stopped just as abruptly as they had begun.

The Savage King had understood something.

Zheng Fan had no interest in playing this false game with him.

This newly enfeoffed Count of Yan preferred a more direct style.

Only after identifying what the other side liked could one prescribe the proper medicine.

So the Savage King immediately asked:

“Count— would you like the snowfields to serve you?”

Zheng Fan nodded.

“I would.”

There was nothing shameful about admitting it.

Nothing he dared not say.

Everyone here belonged to Zheng Fan.

He could tell the Savage King, *I want to become emperor*, and nothing would happen.

The Savage King immediately continued:

“Then you can use Little Dog.

“Little Dog has nothing left now. There is no need for me to return to the snowfields.

“I already know that the tribes which once supported me are currently being attacked and swallowed by their neighbors.

“But the snowfields?

“Little Dog knows them.

“Which clan resents which clan.

“Which two tribes carry a blood feud.

“Which tribe can be used.

“Which should be suppressed.

“Which should be supported.

“I know all of it.

“If Count wishes to turn the snowfields into your own backyard, Little Dog can certainly help you.

“Little Dog will become your most loyal hunting hound— guarding your house and courtyard.”

Zheng Fan took out a nail file he had once borrowed from A’Ming and never returned.

He began filing his nails.

From time to time, he blew away the dust.

Only long after the Savage King finished speaking did Zheng Fan finally answer while admiring his own fingers.

“Situ Yi and Situ Jiong—

I ordered both of them killed in filth.”

Those two idiots had listened to Gou Moli’s persuasion, taken him as some kind of god-grandson, and acted as his internal support.

But after the savages entered the pass how had Gou Moli treated them?

Like chamber pots.

Useful once.

Then too foul-smelling to keep nearby.

Thrown far away and abandoned to whatever fate came.

“They were only two fools.

“How could Count possibly be the same as them?”

“Maybe a few years from now, you’ll be sitting across another table from someone else, eating another meal, and calling *me* a fool.”

One of Count Zheng’s greatest virtues was self-awareness.

In more vulgar language he knew exactly how much he was worth.

Was being idle every day with nothing to do truly happiness?

To a certain extent yes.

But in his present environment and position, constantly restraining his own hands and refusing to personally operate everything could also become painful.

The Savage King’s flattering hat was one Zheng Fan had no intention of wearing.

Negotiation, in the end, was usually this simple.

Supply and demand.

Count Zheng was unmistakably the buyer with all the leverage.

You named a price.

He cut it down.

“Count, Little Dog has been here some time now.

“I’ve noticed that your forces are very different from other Yan armies.”

“Oh?

“How?”

“First, there are very few Yan men in your army. Most are Jin. Barbarians come next.

“Second, many details are different too.

“Count, let us speak plainly.

“You have added... quite a lot of extra things to this army of yours.”

Professionals understood professionals.

An outsider saw only excitement.

An insider could often recognize the essence at one glance.

Throughout history, whenever military governors or regional commanders grew powerful enough, many began transforming their armies into personal forces.

They understood perfectly well that once they became too large to control, the court would inevitably target them.

Whether ambition had begun swelling or they merely wanted self-preservation, privatizing the army became almost instinctive.

But this was different.

The Shengle Army or what should now be called the Snow Sea Army had been built as a private army from the very beginning.

To exaggerate only slightly it was as though the thing had emerged from its mother’s womb already determined to rebel.

Zheng Fan showed no surprise at the observation.

He merely glanced down at his nails again.

Ah.

Today, for some reason his nails looked beautiful.

No wonder that bastard A’Ming loved filing his nails whenever he had nothing else to do.

It was not about the nails at all.

It was about enjoying the air of pretentious calm while doing it.

“Count, you need me.

“I can help turn the snowfields into the most loyal dog beneath your feet.

“I can make them serve you.

“And I myself am a dog.

“Yes, I have teeth.

“But Count— how can a man who intends to accomplish great things fear that the dog at his feet knows how to bite?”

Zheng Fan continued admiring his nails.

“Even without you— handling the snowfields would not be difficult.”

“Count, the snowfields are far larger than you imagine.”

“No matter how large— they are still a pile of loose sand.”

Zheng Fan finally lowered his hand and looked at Gou Moli.

“And I really should thank you.

“After all this trouble you caused, you’ve managed to spend nearly all the vitality the snowfields accumulated over the past several decades.”

“Count, Little Dog is useful.

“Even if you look down upon the scraps remaining on the snowfields, my ability itself can still create value for you.”

“Unfortunately— our roles conflict.”

For a moment, the Savage King did not understand.

But it was true.

What was Gou Moli best at?

Bewitching and manipulating people.

He had not been born a noble.

Yet he had recruited one hero after another from across the snowfields and made them follow him toward one shared dream.

He had almost succeeded in building a great undertaking from nothing.

And what was Count Zheng good at?

Wasn’t it the same thing?

*I already specialize in the human-heart profession.*

*Why drag another expert in to compete with me?*

One army could possess only one ideology.

If Gou Moli came over and stole Zheng Fan’s job what exactly was Zheng Fan supposed to do?

He was already idle enough!

The Savage King looked pained.

Because this was no longer a normal bargaining process.

Normally, he offered terms.

The other side cut the price.

At least both parties shared a basic willingness to trade.

The buyer genuinely wanted what the seller offered.

But Zheng Fan’s tone was completely different.

He was demanding that Gou Moli explain why Zheng Fan needed to buy him at all.

The baseline had just fallen through several floors.

Originally:

No deal, no hard feelings.

Now:

If you cannot persuade me to buy you you die.

Gou Moli did not need to provide a reason Zheng Fan should purchase him.

He needed to provide a reason Zheng Fan would regret killing him.

“Count, Little Dog sincerely believes you are a wise lord.

“That is why I voluntarily revealed my identity and came to serve—”

“No.

“No, no.

“Please don’t say that.

“I truly cannot bear such praise.”

A smile appeared on Zheng Fan’s face.

“You revealed yourself to the First Prince.

“You did not reveal yourself because you wanted to serve me.

“If that were what you wanted, you could have spoken long ago.

“But you deliberately did not.

“You wanted to grab the First Prince’s thigh.

“And through him— grab His Majesty’s thigh.

“Correct?”

Choosing the very night the imperial envoy arrived to reveal his identity had been intended to make the First Prince bring him away.

Unfortunately for Gou Moli the First Prince had only just invested in Zheng Fan.

He sold Gou Moli out without the slightest hesitation.

One could not really call the Savage King’s plan foolish.

The problem was simply that the two sides were not presently fighting from equal positions.

This man had even cut a vicious new scar across his own face to hide his identity.

He had spent so long in the prisoner camp that the information available to him was painfully limited.

All he knew was that the Jingnan Army had captured “him” and was already escorting that “him” toward Yanjing.

That false Savage King had to be A’Lai.

“Did you think that once the fake you was taken into Yanjing and publicly beheaded, you could follow the First Prince into the capital and the Emperor of Yan would secretly keep you alive and put you to work?”

The Savage King hesitated.

Then nodded.

“You really are too naïve.

“Our Emperor will never use you.”

“Count, you are not an emperor.

“So perhaps you do not understand just how broad an emperor’s heart can be.”

“No.

“It is different.

“Great Yan is different from Qian, Chu, and Jin.

“Chu’s Shanyue were long ago slaughtered until they barely had breath left.

“The Jin drove you savages from your homeland centuries ago. Even after Jin split into three houses, any one of those houses could still keep you pinned down.

“But Great Yan is different.

“The threat from the desert barbarians has always existed.

“No one here ever forgets it.”

For Great Yan, one of the fundamental principles upon which the state had been built was simple:

Huaxia and barbarians could not stand as equals.

For centuries, the people of Yan had gritted their teeth around that principle and endured the era when the desert barbarians stood at their greatest strength.

Now the same principle had even become part of the political doctrine used to absorb other Huaxia states.

For a ruler, a political program could become more important than his own life.

Would the Emperor of Yan *dare* use the Savage King?

Of course he would.

The question was whether using him would be worth the political cost.

And it was not.

The Savage King suddenly chuckled.

“Actually, Count, I understand these principles too.

“My Holy Race—”

“Say savages.”

“...My savages were driven from our homeland by the Jin and forced to endure the snowfields for centuries.

“In truth, we had already surrendered long ago.

“And we were willing to continue surrendering.

“Many among us learned the Xia Tongue.

“We wanted to trade with the Jin.

“We wanted reconciliation.

“We even wanted to integrate into Jin society.

“We tried to change ourselves.

“We tried to learn and use Jin rules.

“We believed that if we became more like them, the Jin might eventually lower the walls between us.

“Across those centuries, our people produced far-sighted leaders.

“They accepted investiture from Jin.

“They kept pushing this process forward.

“They believed that one day, once we became fully accustomed to the ways of Jin, the Jin would accept us.

“We no longer dreamed of driving the Jin away and recovering our old homeland.

“We only wanted them to acknowledge us.

“But later events proved those savage forebears wrong.

“No matter how hard we tried.

“No matter how low we bowed.

“No matter how completely we catered to Jin demands.

“No matter how cruelly we mutilated our own ways to reshape ourselves into what the Jin wanted— the Jin still refused to accept us.”

The Savage King raised a hand and pointed toward his own face, then his body.

“Skin.

“Features.

“There are too many things on us savages that differ from the Jin.

“Differ from you Xia people.

“You believe you have offered every possible sincerity.

“You believe you have abandoned your old self.

“You spend your life removing every obstacle placed before you.

“And then— when you finally clear them all away you discover something so absurd you almost want to laugh.

“So hopeless you almost want to die.

“Skin.

“Face.

“Those were the true final walls preventing you from ever entering their world.

“Every obstacle you struggled to remove before that— every excuse had merely been placed there deliberately to conceal the truth of what they hated about you!”

Hearing this, Zheng Fan genuinely felt a degree of resonance.

People gave you endless reasons.

You worked to eliminate them one by one.

Then, after you finally removed every reason that could possibly exist between you, you discovered all those reasons had been false from the beginning.

Only then did you see the root.

Racial prejudice.

“So I raised an army!

“I wanted to smash all of it apart!

“Because I understood— we had no road left behind us!”

The Savage King’s eyes reddened.

He stared at Zheng Fan.

“But I still do not believe all hope is gone.

“I understand the barbarian tongue.

“So I know the barbarians inside Count’s army receive respect.

“That is why I thought—”

Zheng Fan immediately raised a hand.

“Sorry.

“I use barbarians because the barbarians have not really done anything in the past century.”

For nearly a hundred years, the desert barbarians had mostly been bullied or been walking toward the next occasion when they would be bullied.

The savages were different.

The savages had just devastated nearly half the lands of Jin.

If Zheng Fan used barbarians openly, few people in Great Yan would reject it.

If anything, they would feel proud.

*Our ancient enemies have fallen so far they can only serve us as dogs now.*

But using savages?

Heh.

Did Zheng Fan still want his political foundation among the people of Jin or not?

Zheng Fan rubbed between his brows.

“Let’s talk about something more practical.

“Think harder.

“Try to persuade me not to turn that meal I just gave you into your last meal.”

The Savage King nodded very seriously.

He seemed to fall into thought.

Zheng Fan gave him plenty of time.

With Siniang absent, Count Zheng’s time was worthless anyway.

At last, Gou Moli spoke.

“Count, I can help you keep enemies alive to strengthen your own position.

“I can help you drain the power of the snowfields.

“I can provide you with a continuous supply of savage laborers.

“I can make the snowfields— feed Snow Sea Pass.”

“That’s all?”

“That is all I have.”

“At least you’re finally showing some sincerity.”

“I...

“I want to live.

“Because only while alive can there still be hope.

“As long as I remain alive, I may still possess a chance to rise again.

“I learned that principle when I was very young.”

Zheng Fan nodded.

Then shook his head.

“Keeping you alive is also enormously irresponsible toward my own safety.”

“You can imprison me.

“Put me inside an iron cage.

“I will tell you whatever you wish to know.

“I will advise you on the affairs of the snowfields.

“And if you have other matters you wish to discuss, you may come ask me as well.

“Loyalty?

“Even if I offered it— you would not accept it.

“But my intelligence.

“My experience.

“Those I can provide to you without condition.”

“And what do you gain?”

“If you are willing to imprison me— at least I remain alive.”

“Endless imprisonment can become an even deeper despair.”

“I still have hope.”

The Savage King left his seat.

Xue San’s eyes immediately narrowed.

His body prepared to move.

But Gou Moli made no hostile action.

Instead, he knelt toward Zheng Fan.

“Count.

“I can wait.

“And I am willing to try waiting.

“You are different from the other Yan.

“Truly different.”

“Wait?

“For what?”

“The road you have chosen cannot possibly remain smooth forever.

“So I can wait.

“Wait until one day, when you need a savage cavalry force to fight for you.

“Wait until the day you personally open my cage and release Little Dog.

“I bet— you will rebel!

“I bet— you will raise troops!

“I bet— one day you will break with the State of Yan!

“And when that day arrives, when you need every force you can possibly place in your hands— you will remember Little Dog sitting inside the cage.

“That— is my hope.”

The man had hit the point almost perfectly.

If you had truly intended to live forever as some pure and loyal subject, then why the hell had you spent so much effort building your army like this from the beginning?

For entertainment?

*Clap.*

*Clap... clap.*

*Clap clap clap...*

Zheng Fan began applauding.

Slowly at first.

Then faster.

Lacking sufficient education to express what he felt, he could only shout inwardly:

*Fuck me.*

*Impressive.*

He had learned something.

Genuinely learned something.

The short man before him, his face twisted by horrifying scars, had pushed the art of manipulating human hearts to its limit.

Zheng Fan had genuinely been tempted a moment ago.

No.

Even now he was still tempted.

Fortunately, Count Zheng had spent his entire life in this world surrounded by seven sycophants.

Since beginning his career, he had also repeatedly crossed swords with genuine masters of their fields.

And just recently, Little Sixth—that partner who played the pig while quietly eating layer after layer of the cake—had forced Zheng Fan to reassess his own instincts.

As a result, at this particular moment, Count Zheng was in one of the most mentally “balanced” periods he had experienced in a long time.

At first glance, it seemed Zheng Fan had been bargaining down the Savage King ever since the meal began.

In reality—

Gou Moli had been circling Zheng Fan the entire time.

First suppressing expectations.

Then raising the final proposition.

Before ever sitting at this table, Gou Moli had set only one objective for himself:

He had to survive.

He could not be killed.

Now he had succeeded.

A master.

A genuine master.

As another player specializing in the “human-heart” school, Count Zheng decisively admitted that Gou Moli’s rank stood above his own.

The Savage King’s only misfortune was encountering Tian Wujing.

“Get up.

“The floor is cold.”

Zheng Fan spoke.

The Savage King immediately stood.

He showed Zheng Fan a simple, honest smile.

Behind Zheng Fan, Fan Li’s expression became gloomy.

Because when he looked at Gou Moli’s face now—

Fan Li somehow felt as though he were looking into a mirror.

Therefore, Fan Li wanted to cut him down.

Then Fan Li released killing intent.

The Savage King’s neck immediately shrank.

The honest smile vanished.

He hurried back to his chair.

“You guessed correctly.

“I really am reluctant to kill you.”

“Many thanks to Count for sparing Little Dog’s life!”

“I’m not killing you because I think the world would become slightly less interesting if you died.”

If the world lost one truly interesting person wouldn’t the world itself lose a little color along with him?

“Count’s breadth of spirit leaves Little Dog in admiration.”

Zheng Fan smiled.

“Don’t rush.

“Don’t rush.

“For now, I’ll lock you up.

“After some time passes, we can come back out and talk again.”

Did Gou Moli think he had already passed the test?

He should remember the Demon King best at studying people’s hearts and arranging sinister schemes was not here yet.

Once the Blind Man arrived, Zheng Fan could hear his opinion.

If the Blind Man said Gou Moli should die then Count Zheng would feel no reluctance at all.

One chop.

Finished.

Afterward, send someone quietly to notify the Prince of Jingnan.

If the Blind Man said the risk was manageable and they could play around with Gou Moli under controlled conditions fine.

Then they could play.

*Haaah.*

Having Seven Demon Kings beneath you truly brought peace of mind.

No matter the problem there was always some professional available to provide a safety net.

“Take him away, Li.”

Fan Li walked over.

Before the Savage King could even offer Zheng Fan a final salute, Fan Li lifted him bodily and carried him out.

“San’er, you’ll have to work harder watching him for a while.”

“Understood, Master.”

Nothing could be allowed to happen with this prisoner.

He had to remain under the strictest guard.

But placing the task in Xue San’s hands allowed Zheng Fan to relax completely.

“You won’t need to watch him for too long.

“Doesn’t he want to live as a prisoner?

“When the Blind Man and Siniang arrive after the move— put him in the same room as Sha Tuo Queshi.”

“Heh heh heh.”

Xue San immediately flattered:

“Master— brilliant.

Absolutely brilliant!”

Zheng Fan laughed.

Then he stood and walked outside to stretch his legs.

After listening to the Savage King fan those flames for so long—

Count Zheng had actually begun feeling an urge to raise his banner and found a new state *today*.

No.

No, no.

He needed cold wind.

He needed to cool his head.

Zheng Fan wandered around the fortress without direction.

He did not go far.

There were only a handful of places inside Snow Sea Pass currently worth visiting anyway.

So he naturally wandered into another small courtyard.

The Sword Saint lived there.

After signaling the attendants to withdraw, Zheng Fan entered the room.

The Sword Saint lay propped against a pile of folded quilts behind his back.

“Your complexion really is getting better.”

Zheng Fan dragged a stool beside the bed and sat down.

“She sent a letter.”

“Hm?

“Oh.”

Zheng Fan understood.

Looking over, he indeed saw an envelope lying on the bed.

A’Ming had returned to notify Shengle about the relocation.

He had brought back lists of casualties and rewards.

He had also carried home quite a few letters written by soldiers.

Originally, almost everyone had written a farewell letter before the battle.

After the war, some farewell letters became ordinary letters home.

Others truly became final letters.

Not long afterward, while Shengle was busily preparing for the relocation, fast horses began carrying reply letters back toward Snow Sea Pass.

*Beacon fires rage for three months; a letter from home is worth ten thousand in gold.*

In this age, for soldiers stationed far from home, a single family letter genuinely possessed incomparable weight.

The Sword Saint had received one too.

There was no need to guess who sent it.

The Sword Saint sighed.

Count Zheng immediately said:

“Don’t act.”

The Sword Saint’s face became awkward.

“If you want to smile, smile.

“If you’re happy, be happy.”

*You may know how to use a sword.*

*But when it comes to luring a single man into the room just so you can force-feed him dog food, your technique is amateur.*

What?

Was Zheng Fan supposed to misunderstand first?

Comfort him?

Then hear the truth?

Then stand there stunned while the Sword Saint laughed at his expression?

Heh.

Absolutely not.

Zheng Fan refused to give him that satisfaction.

“Heh heh heh... heh—cough, cough, cough...”

The Sword Saint began laughing.

Then immediately coughed.

Zheng Fan stood and patted his back.

“Slow down.”

The Sword Saint looked dissatisfied.

“The laugh... wasn’t as satisfying as I imagined.”

“Oh, that’s my fault.

“My apologies.”

After settling the Sword Saint back into position, Zheng Fan pointed toward the envelope.

“What did she write?”

“I told you I did not want to test the human heart.

“You promised me.”

Zheng Fan frowned and spread both hands, looking deeply wronged.

“I genuinely did nothing.”

“But she never received the military-reward silver from those thousand savage heads!”

That was a terrifying amount of money.

And the Sword Saint had refused to convert his military merit into promotion or rank.

He wanted everything paid in silver.

That fortune was large enough to move the hearts of countless women and inspire the purest declarations imaginable:

*I don’t care about your money.*

*I only love that you’re old.*

*And that you hate bathing.*

“It wasn’t me.”

Hearing the answer, the Sword Saint thought.

Then seemed to realize something.

“My disciple did it.”

The Sword Maid.

Of all the people still in Shengle, she was probably the only one capable of arranging this.

“Aiyo.

“Does it even matter who did it now?

“You were the one who said you didn’t want to test anyone.

“But once the test gives you the answer you wanted— you’re the one enjoying it, right?”

The Sword Saint nodded reluctantly.

He genuinely could not refute Zheng Fan’s words.

Then he said:

“She wrote that she and I already ate a meal together.

“That meant the matter between us had already been settled.

“Even if I remain paralyzed in bed for the rest of my life— she will care for me for the rest of hers.”

“Happy?”

“Ha...

“Happy.”

“Moved?”

“Moved.”

“Haaah.

“I really envy you.”

The Sword Saint heard that.

The tension in his face relaxed.

*Huu.*

Comfortable.

Zheng Fan almost laughed.

“For her sake,” the Sword Saint continued, “I’ll work hard to stand again as soon as possible.”

The power of love.

“Then I really need to thank my good sister-in-law.”

“After she arrives, don’t do anything strange.”

“We still have to keep things hidden?”

“Food, clothing, housing...

“Help us a little.”

“Fine.

“No problem.”

So the Sword Saint wanted to enjoy the warmth of an ordinary little household without letting a huge fortune or his terrifying identity frighten the woman.

Fine.

You were the Sword Saint.

And Zheng Fan still possessed hope for your recovery.

If you wanted to be sentimental he would help.

After a while, Zheng Fan said:

“The Savage King is in my hands.”

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

After a long time, the Sword Saint finally answered:

“Oh.”

“Huh?

“You don’t want me to kill him immediately?”

“If I tell you to kill him— will you?”

“I will.”

Count Zheng answered without the slightest hesitation.

“Why?”

“He’s merely a fallen Savage King.

“If I kill him, I kill him.

“You’re a cripple right now, sure.

“But who knows whether you might recover someday?

“If killing one Savage King makes you owe me another enormous favor, and then one day you recover— wouldn’t I make a fortune?”

“That answer...”

“Feels very real?”

The Sword Saint nodded.

“But whether you kill him or keep him—

I won’t interfere.”

“You won’t?”

Strange.

The First Prince had said the same thing.

Now the Sword Saint too.

Yu Huaping nodded.

“With him in your hands— the ones who suffer will be the savages.”

“Huu...

“You really do see things clearly.”

Killing one Savage King meant little.

Keeping him alive, however, might cause the snowfields to pay an even more terrible price.

Perhaps rivers of blood.

“I want to trust you,” the Sword Saint said.

The hidden meaning was clear:

*Are you worthy of that trust?*

Zheng Fan reached out and placed a hand on the Sword Saint’s shoulder.

His expression became solemn.

“I want Snow Sea Pass to become another Prince of Zhenbei’s Residence.

“From this day onward, my Zheng clan will guard the gate of the realm for the people of Huaxia.

“Generation after generation— our descendants will die for the state altar if necessary.”

The Sword Saint smiled.

Then slowly shook his head.

“No.

“You don’t.”

The wheel had turned.

Now the Sword Saint was the one refusing to follow the script.

“I think life still needs a little beauty,” Zheng Fan said.

A little beautiful lie.

One convincing enough to move even yourself.

The Sword Saint sighed.

“I understood myself long ago.

“In this life—

I know only how to wield a sword.”

“Hm?”

*What are you trying to say?*

“As long as you can hold Snow Sea Pass.

“As long as, throughout this life, you never allow the savages to march south again.”

*Mm.*

*Go on.*

The Sword Saint looked toward the ceiling with faint melancholy.

Then said:

“I have killed an emperor before.

“So I know what killing an emperor feels like.”

The old patriarch of the Situ Clan had essentially been an emperor, even if he never formally took the throne.

Names without substance were worthless.

Substance without the name that was where the real pleasure lay.

“Oh?

“So this is a threat?”

“A threat?”

“Isn’t it?”

“What I mean is—

I, Yu Huaping, have already experienced the feeling of killing an emperor.”

He paused.

Then stared directly into Zheng Fan’s eyes.

Each word landed clearly.

“The State of Jin— is already gone.”

“What exactly are you trying to say?”

“So perhaps...

“I can also try discovering— what it feels like to raise an emperor onto the throne.”

[End of Chapter 361]