Chapter 402: Autumn Outing

*The sky was boundless, the wilds vast;
when the wind bent the grass, cattle and sheep appeared.*

Count Zheng sat before a barbecue rack.

Mutton roasted over the fire, while all around him stood bottle after bottle and jar after jar of seasonings.

Barbecue still tasted best when you grilled it yourself. Count Zheng could hardly call himself some master of the grill, but he had always cared a fair bit about quality of life, so his hands were reasonably capable.

Besides, with this many spices and aromatics on hand, even a roasted boot would not taste bad.

“You’ve added so much seasoning that the mutton’s original flavor has already been completely buried.”

The Sword Saint, seated nearby with a cup of tea in his hands, spoke.

On the other side, the Savage King—still wearing shackles around his ankles—rubbed his hands together excitedly. Hearing the Sword Saint say that, he immediately retorted:

“Spices are precious things. Look at you acting all disdainful, as though they’re beneath your notice. Tsk, tsk.”

The Sword Saint took a sip of tea and looked at the Savage King with disdain.

“I lived through hard days when I was young too.”

“You said it yourself—when you were young. How old are you now?

“A man’s mouth and stomach are the cheapest things under Heaven. You don’t need ten years, or even eight. Feed someone good food for half a year, then ask him to go back to coarse tea and plain rice. Difficult.”

“Not necessarily.”

“You want to say you still live naturally and frugally now?

“That’s because you have money.

“Don’t tell me you don’t. All you need to do is open your mouth. Even if you asked for a small mountain of gold, our Count would find some way to haul it over for you.

“If you have money but choose to live frugally, that’s called taste.

“It’s the same as going into the Red Tents and refusing to let the girls take off their clothes because all you want is to watch them dance.

“If you have no money, that isn’t called frugal.

“That’s called genuinely poor.”

The Sword Saint could not be bothered arguing any further.

He merely asked:

“Why are you talking so much today?”

The Savage King laughed.

“Our Count took pity on me. Dragged me out of my cage and even brought me along for a picnic. The scenery here is excellent too. Of course I should talk a little more and help relieve our Count’s boredom.

“Unlike you, sitting there like some lordly clay idol in a temple.

“Fine, since you’ve decided to play the chaste courtesan and handle all the lofty purity, then I’ll be the warm little whore and make things lively. Otherwise this would be too dull.”

Sitting opposite them, Monk Kongyuan heard this.

He pressed his palms together.

“Amitabha.”

Little Monk Liaofan, sitting beside him and staring at the barbecue rack while drool gathered at the corner of his mouth, immediately wiped himself and pressed his palms together too.

“Ami—the mutton’s burning!”

*Thwack!*

His master’s knuckles immediately came down on his skull.

“It’s ready to eat.”

“Oh! Thank you, Count.”

The Savage King showed no courtesy whatsoever. He grabbed two skewers and immediately started eating.

He ate extraordinarily quickly and did not seem afraid of the heat. One slurp of the mouth and an entire skewer of meat disappeared between his lips.

The Sword Saint reached out and took one.

He ate slowly.

His body was still recovering and was not suited for this sort of uninhibited feasting.

In his previous life, Zheng Fan had always imagined Martial Artists and wandering heroes as men who drank from huge bowls, tore great chunks of meat with their teeth, carried wine jars in one hand, and swept aside every demon and monster around them with carefree swagger.

But in this life, after he began practicing martial arts himself and came into contact with figures at the level of the Sword Saint and the Marquis of Jingnan, he discovered that they were actually all extraordinarily self-disciplined.

In certain respects, their discipline exceeded even that of professional athletes in later generations.

It was a strange circle.

On one hand, their bodies had long surpassed those of ordinary people, so even if their habits, diet, and way of life became somewhat indulgent, they could withstand far more abuse.

Yet precisely because of their immense self-discipline they had also been able to reach heights ordinary Martial Artists could never attain.

Even Sha Tuo Queshi, who had once looked like some filthy wanderer with disheveled hair, eating raw and cooked alike without care, had only become like that because he had already abandoned everything and intended to go to the Marquis of Zhenbei Residence to demand an answer.

That kind of self-control—

Count Zheng genuinely could not manage.

Normal saber practice was fine.

Normal martial training was fine too.

But giving up the pleasures of food and drink, or living like an ascetic monk solely for the sake of strength and advancement?

Count Zheng truly did not possess that level of enlightenment.

Better to live however felt comfortable.

His previous life had already been miserable enough. He had been diagnosed with an incurable rare disease while still young.

If this life also had to be spent grimly sitting in seclusion and cultivating like some bitter hermit what would be the point?

Thinking this, Count Zheng finished one skewer of meat and habitually took out his metal Zhonghua cigarette case.

He removed one cigarette.

The Marquis of Jingnan had once told Zheng Fan directly that tobacco damaged the body.

But among all the things in this world capable of producing quick, short-term pleasure which one did not carry some side effect?

Little Monk Liaofan reached out to grab some roast meat.

His master immediately gave him another rap on the skull.

Liaofan rubbed his head and looked pitifully toward Zheng Fan.

Zheng Fan held the cigarette between the fingers of his left hand and said:

“Eat.”

Monk Kongyuan pressed his palms together.

“Amitabha. Since the Count is forcing us under the cruel torture of the heated pillar, then we can only eat. The Buddha will forgive us.”

Immediately afterward the large monk and little monk began sweeping the battlefield clean.

The meat roasted earlier had been far too little.

There was nowhere near enough to divide among everyone.

Monk Kongyuan efficiently placed more meat on the grill and continued cooking.

His hands were even very practiced as he brushed on the seasonings.

Not far away, one thousand Snow Sea cavalry patrolled the surrounding grasslands.

Behind Zheng Fan sat A’Ming.

A’Ming did not eat meat.

Count Zheng had grown accustomed to caution.

Even for something as simple as coming out onto the grasslands for a barbecue before autumn fully arrived, he had gone to great lengths where security was concerned.

Count Zheng had never denied that he feared death.

He had always been quite open about it.

After all he could not yet be called some supremely powerful man standing beneath only one person and above ten thousand.

But surely he still counted as a local emperor in his own corner of the world.

In later generations, it would be something like simultaneously serving as mayor of a centrally administered municipality and commander of the local military district.

His little life was damned comfortable.

Naturally he wanted to find ways to live more securely and make the happiness last longer.

Besides after receiving the news from Yanjing and Little Sixth’s personal letter—

Count Zheng suddenly felt that all his previous caution had shown tremendous foresight.

Just look at the grievance dripping from Little Sixth’s letter.

The words *that madwoman* appeared seven or eight times.

That alone showed how furious Little Sixth had been.

It was probably the kind of overturning, crushing sense of defeat an old fox accustomed to deceiving people and manipulating hearts at the gaming table felt when someone simply flipped the entire table over.

At that moment, Little Sixth must have stopped feeling like an imperial prince.

He must have felt like a helpless little chicken.

Count Zheng could sympathize very deeply.

He had been a helpless little chicken himself.

Precisely because the feeling was so awful—

Count Zheng had forced himself to gather every expert he could find around him.

Living or dead.

Crippled or useless.

Did not matter.

Tie them all to his side.

Because Count Zheng believed that perhaps things were not especially dangerous yet.

But give it a few more years as his power, status, and importance continued rising his head would become valuable enough for hostile forces to dispatch extraordinarily precious experts specifically to remove it.

There might even be great wandering experts like the Sword Saint who came of their own initiative to claim the head of the Yan dog Zheng Fan.

That was not an exaggeration.

Think about how the old Situ patriarch died.

Zheng Fan stretched lazily and reclined sideways.

His right arm supported him against the grass as he settled into a relaxed posture.

Then he said:

“The Commandery Princess of the Marquis of Zhenbei Residence will be coming here in a little while to admire the snow.”

The Savage King, hearing this news for the first time, immediately brightened.

You could practically hear his breathing grow heavier.

But very quickly he picked up another skewer and swept the meat into his mouth.

His entire expression and bearing instantly returned to calm.

After chewing and swallowing, he said:

“Count, this slave feels that the Commandery Princess is not coming merely to admire the snow.”

“Oh?

“Then why do you think she is coming?”

Zheng Fan looked at the Savage King with interest.

“Count, if the Commandery Princess is coming here, does that mean her marriage with the Crown Prince has fallen through?”

The Savage King was normally kept inside his cage.

Most of the time he was only exploited by the Blind Man.

Very few people supplied him with outside information. Even when they did, it was generally limited to changes across the snowfields.

“The Empress passed away.”

Hearing the reason, the Savage King nodded.

“So our Commandery Princess truly does have a miserable fate. Every time she tries to marry, something happens?”

And one of those times had even involved Gou Moli himself.

“Get to the point,” Zheng Fan reminded him.

“Count, this *is* the point.

“As the saying goes, once can happen, twice can happen, but not three times.

“After something like this keeps happening, the Commandery Princess and Crown Prince’s wedding will probably be shelved for a very long time.

“Food goes cold if you leave it too long. Leave it longer and it spoils.

“A marriage between two people is actually even less substantial than a dish of food.

“This slave believes the Commandery Princess really coming to see snow is false.

“Using the opportunity to sound out reality, examine the situation, and interfere in certain matters—that is true.

“After all—there are still two Zhenbei Army garrisons in Jin territory.”

Hearing this—

Zheng Fan could not help laughing.

“Surely not?”

One of those garrisons had belonged to Li Bao.

After Li Bao died in battle, the new chief commander had indeed previously served as an Assistant General in the Zhenbei Army.

But his actual control over that formation had inevitably declined.

Add in the prosperity of Quhe City, and that Zhenbei Army force had probably long since developed other interests.

It was no longer the pure Zhenbei Army formation that had once existed in Beifeng Commandery.

As for Li Fusheng’s garrison the Marquis of Jingnan had placed it close beside himself, stationed near Fengxin City.

To the southeast, it could deter Chu.

To the west, it could preserve influence over Yingdu.

If the Prince of Zhenbei, Li Liangting, came personally then naturally there would be little question.

Those two Zhenbei Army garrisons would most likely still obey Li Liangting’s orders.

But the Commandery Princess...

The gap was far too great.

“Count, don’t dismiss it.

“The Commandery Princess is, first of all—very beautiful.”

The Sword Saint frowned slightly.

Liaofan’s little eyebrows twitched.

Clearly, the young monk had become very curious just how beautiful this Commandery Princess actually was.

The Savage King continued:

“Second, the Commandery Princess is extremely willful.

“When she does things, she often does not think them through very deeply first.

“People like us used to say the barefoot man does not fear the man wearing shoes.

“We could afford not to care because we had no shoes.

“The Commandery Princess is different.

“Her household simply has too many pairs.

“Whether it succeeds or not, this slave believes she will probably try.

“In fact—this slave even believes she may try to recruit you too, Count.”

“Heh.”

Zheng Fan felt the Savage King was becoming more ridiculous with every sentence.

“Does this Count still need to find some other mountain to lean against?”

“She is capable of anything,” the Savage King said with a smile. “So I ask the Count to prepare one thing in advance.”

Zheng Fan laughed.

“Prepare what?”

“Prepare yourself so that when the Commandery Princess tries to recruit you—you do not laugh the way you just did.”

...

[End of Chapter 402]