Chapter 588: - Untitled

Zheng Fan’s words landed with the weight of iron.

It seemed he had never spoken to Tian Wujing like this before. In the past, most of the time he had always carried caution and wariness, with only the occasional flash of genuine feeling.

But no matter what, the words had been spoken.

Afterward, Count Pingye felt a brief emptiness and desolation.

Yet in the end, it felt good.

The Barbarian Saber remained planted in the ground before him.

Count Pingye looked straight at Tian Wujing.

Tian Wujing stood where he was, looking back at Zheng Fan.

The two men were not far apart.

They simply stared at each other.

The Sword Saint held Longyuan in his arms and wore the expression of a man watching a play.

There were not many spectacles in this world worth his attention. But this one truly had rare scenery, rare people, and rare lines. It would be a pity not to watch it properly.

Fourth Lady stood silently behind her Master, occasionally glancing around to make sure no one else was approaching.

As for whether Zheng Fan’s threat might truly become reality, put it this way:

Within the Demon Kings’ group, their Master’s likes and dislikes were the highest standard.

For the Demon Kings themselves, there was no great psychological burden involved, nor much question of whether they could bear to part with what they had built. It was like playing with blocks. After painstakingly stacking them up, one might still knock the whole thing down in the end. The pleasure lay in the process.

Caring too much about the result, becoming trapped by it, letting the outcome bind you in return, none of that fit the Demon Kings’ sense of beauty.

Every one of them possessed the sort of carefree spirit that could clap the dust from their hands, straighten their backs, look over a vast empty expanse, and shake their heads with a smile.

But one thing could not be denied.

The two men stood there facing each other.

At first, Count Pingye had driven his Barbarian Saber into the ground and spoken with a roar and absolute resolve. He had indeed forced his momentum upward.

But as the staring match stretched on, even a bystander could easily see the balance shift once more.

Their Master had surged magnificently for a moment.

Then, little by little, Tian Wujing began taking control again.

Haaah...

Fourth Lady sighed inwardly.

Their Master had grown very quickly, but in the end he still could not compare with Prince of Jingnan.

That said, the Demon Kings had no desire for their Master to become a copy of Prince of Jingnan either. Life like that would be boring, with nothing to look forward to.

Their Master’s role was to serve as the glue binding them together, not simply to become one more Great Demon King.

Count Pingye himself noticed what was happening.

His face remained stern.

His gaze remained severe.

His will remained firm.

Yet Old Tian did nothing more than stand there and look at him, and Zheng Fan could already feel his momentum sliding downward.

Down.

Down.

Down...

If this had been some other matter, some other dispute, Zheng Fan might already have softened and moved close, saying:

“Brother, my heart was blinded by lard just now. I spoke nonsense. Don’t take it to heart.”

But on this matter, Count Pingye knew he could not retreat.

His dream was not the main reason.

What truly mattered was what he had heard from the other soldiers after reaching Ying Capital.

Yes.

Zheng Fan understood why Tian Wujing had insisted on entering Ying Capital. He wanted to crush Chu pride. For a country, there were few blows greater than seeing its own capital destroyed.

But Tian Wujing had plainly possessed better choices.

Better methods.

Tian Wujing was personally very strong, but he was not the sort of man who liked flaunting a lone warrior’s bravery. Twice he had nearly frightened enemy armies away by himself, but that was because the opposing commanders feared the Jingnan Army might be following behind him, even though it had not actually come.

Cutting down an enemy commander from amid ten thousand troops, or dragging the opposing general out for single combat, those were not games Old Tian enjoyed.

Yet this time, entering Ying Capital, he had done exactly that.

To say something cold-blooded:

Ying Capital had already been taken.

He could simply have ordered one Brigadier General to lead five thousand iron cavalry into the city and burn the imperial city to the ground. Even if all five thousand cavalrymen died there, it still would have been worth it.

Were five thousand cavalrymen more important than one Prince of Jingnan?

That did not sound very “all lives are equal,” but it was fact.

Even that shameless old bastard Yao Zizhan had once dared boast that if he entered Yan, the Emperor of Yan would willingly trade ten thousand cavalrymen for him.

How much more so Great Yan’s Southern Marquis?

So this was real.

Tian Wujing had seen the war moving in Yan’s favor.

He had seen the Regent of Chu preparing to build a new stove elsewhere.

He had seen the campaign already entering its final stage.

Perhaps he had seen even farther beyond that.

And then Tian Wujing had begun deliberately searching for a “way out.”

Here, that way out meant a grave.

Perhaps the Fire Phoenix simply had not been powerful enough.

Or perhaps Old Tian had decided this burial ground still did not satisfy him.

In any case, he had failed to die.

The Blind Man once said that only a true bloody battle, a world-shaking war, would be worthy of Great Yan’s Southern Marquis as a final curtain.

Best if it involved turning back the tide.

Best if he fought until only one soldier remained.

The sunset would stretch long across the horizon.

Corpses would pile like mountains beneath his feet.

Blood would soak him from head to toe.

Kunwu, chipped from slaughter, would be planted beside him.

And finally, a little wind would rise and gently stir his hair.

That, the Blind Man said, was the ending Great Yan’s Southern Marquis deserved.

He had even painted the scene in ink wash. It was remarkably vivid.

Of course, designing Prince of Jingnan’s final resting place so early also revealed the Blind Man’s true feelings quite clearly.

The aesthetics were fake.

What mattered was that the Blind Man wanted to breathe freely.

The Sword Saint was an expert and more sensitive to shifts in aura and momentum. At this point, he finally spoke.

“I say, going home to a wife, a child, and a warm bed really is a pretty good life. You’ve been busy half your life. I’ve been busy a smaller half. That kind of life, really...”

Tian Wujing turned and looked at the Sword Saint.

He simply looked.

“...” The Sword Saint.

Nothing had been said.

Yet somehow, it cut straight to the heart.

You ran around for years and managed to wreck the Three Jin lands plus one capital region.

Me?

I attacked Qian, swallowed Jin, campaigned against Chu, and broke Ying Capital.

How are your circumstances supposed to be compared with mine?

Can they even be placed in the same sentence?

Have you no shame?

“Tian Wujing, I’m really not as refined as you imagine. Believe it or not, while you’re weak I can stab a couple of holes in you.”

Ever since the Sword Saint began spending time with Count Pingye and experiencing an “epiphany” every few days, he had actually become far more rounded in certain respects.

Once a man became grounded in ordinary life, some dirt inevitably entered the way he spoke and acted.

He had merely been standing at the side enjoying the show, yet somehow had ended up getting despised. Worse, he had walked forward and invited the contempt himself.

Tian Wujing stopped paying attention to the Sword Saint.

He turned back toward Zheng Fan and said:

“You want this Prince to live like the Left Guli King on your side?”

The last time Tian Wujing went to see his son, it had been at night. Sha Tuo Queshi appeared and tried to block him, and Tian Wujing forcibly cut him off.

Third Grade Martial Artists were far more common than Third Grade swordsmen, but they were still nowhere near as common as cabbages beside the road.

And from the style of clothing he wore, combined with certain habitual moves inherited from life, a genuine expert could easily recognize Sha Tuo Queshi’s identity.

The mighty Left Guli King of the Barbarians had once been a man who shook the world.

In the end, he could only lie inside a coffin.

People called it extending his life.

In truth, it was simply another form of lingering on.

Sha Tuo Queshi may not have had a choice.

But if he had been given one, a great Barbarian hero of his generation probably would have preferred to die magnificently in battle.

After all, when he once came to the gates of the Marquis of Zhenbei Residence and demanded entry, he had done so because he wanted death.

Instead, he ended up neither properly alive nor properly dead.

How bitter was that?

How tragic?

“Your Highness, I told you. You don’t have to lie in a coffin. Just stay with Tian Tian and watch him grow up.”

Tian Wujing shook his head.

“I taught you that when arranging troops and formations, the greatest taboo for a commander is hesitation, indecision, and changing one’s mind repeatedly. This road was chosen by this Prince. The road this Prince chose never left room for turning around.”

Tian Wujing clasped his hands behind his back.

“Either kill this Prince now, or rebel right now. Once this Prince recovers, this Prince will come kill you. Everything this Prince has done in this life, every road this Prince has walked, was chosen by this Prince personally. No one has ever dared point fingers at this Prince, much less arrange this Prince’s life for him.”

Tian Wujing did not say something childish like, “If you rebel, I’ll kill myself.”

That sort of threat was too dull.

Old Tian would never use it.

In truth, he was not threatening Zheng Fan at all.

He was simply stating a fact.

Other people might not know.

Zheng Fan did.

In Old Tian’s eyes, the Ji Clan, the imperial family, were not truly that important.

He did not fear his brother-in-law, even though that brother-in-law was universally acknowledged as a sovereign of great talent and vision.

Exterminating his own household had been his own choice.

Du Juan’s death and his hair turning white overnight had also been answered by his own choice.

For the sake of that Black Dragon Banner, he had swallowed everything.

Not because anyone forced him.

Because once that conviction had been put into practice, he would not permit himself to change it.

It had been Tian Wujing who ordered Zheng Fan to cripple the Third Prince.

He knew full well Zheng Fan was no “loyal and righteous servant of Great Yan,” yet he still kept making things easier for him, sending him soldiers, territory, and every other advantage.

He knew Zheng Fan had rendered the Commandery Princess unconscious and still refused to save her.

He knew Zheng Fan had raised Tian Wujing’s own banner and made chaos in Yingdu, then gone to Litian City.

He knew.

And tacitly approved.

He did not fear imperial authority.

He was not a dog beneath imperial power.

Even the Emperor of Yan would never dare treat him like one.

Zheng Fan was threatening him now.

But he would not accept the threat.

If it came to the worst, then both sides would simply shatter together.

While he still lived, he would not let himself drift with the current.

This was Tian Wujing.

And this was the greatest difference between Great Yan’s Prince of Jingnan and the Sword Saint.

At the end of the day, the Sword Saint was still a man who had come out of the jianghu. Longyuan’s brilliance might conceal it, but deep in his bones remained one side shaped by jianghu habits.

Prince of Jingnan, however, had already begun planning Great Yan’s future when he was very, very young.

A jianghu child grew up looking at sabers and swords, looking at the wicker fence outside Widow Wang’s house at the edge of the village.

Tian Wujing, from childhood, looked at maps.

What he gazed toward was the splendor of Qian and Chu in Shangjing and Ying Capital.

Methods of manipulating human nature would work extremely well on others.

Against Prince of Jingnan, they were useless.

Because he had no humanity.

Zheng Fan’s expression began twisting.

He reached out and pulled the Barbarian Saber from the ground.

Earlier, all of his momentum had already leaked away.

But now, his stubbornness had been completely provoked.

“Fine. Then you can wait and watch. Watch how I turn the Great Yan you value upside down. Watch how I hand back every inch of territory you devoted your life to conquering. I am your student, after all. I ought to resemble you at least a little in temperament. Otherwise, wouldn’t I be disgracing your mighty reputation?”

The master exterminated his own household and opened territory for Great Yan.

The disciple betrayed his school and threw himself into the arms of Great Yan’s enemies.

Fine.

Teacher and student.

A perfect match.

A faint smile appeared at the corner of Prince of Jingnan’s mouth.

It was difficult to explain the relationship between him and Zheng Fan.

Brothers?

Men in the army loved calling each other brothers.

Charge together today, drink together tomorrow, perhaps introduce your wife’s younger sister to him the day after that, then become brothers-in-law too.

Brothers without blood ties.

But it seemed to be more than that.

If anyone else dared stand before Tian Wujing and talk about betraying Yan for Chu, or harming Great Yan, then even if Prince of Jingnan were crippled he would use his final breath to hurl the saber in his hand and kill him.

But after listening to Zheng Fan say so many treasonous things, he felt no anger at all.

What older brother truly becomes furious at a younger brother going through a rebellious phase?

Especially when everything that younger brother was doing was actually for his sake.

But just as Zheng Fan had said earlier, Tian Wujing understood Zheng Fan.

That understanding was perhaps not the same as the bond between Zheng Fan and the Seven Demon Kings. That relationship was too strange, too mysterious, not something one could understand merely by wanting to.

Set all of that aside.

What Tian Wujing understood was Zheng Fan the man.

Things other people might treasure for an entire lifetime, Zheng Fan could throw away, smash apart, or destroy for one moment of satisfaction in his own heart.

He would not regret it.

Because he had always deliberately preserved this freedom to act whenever he pleased.

Then, the Sword Saint moved.

“You could simply have the Sword Saint restrain me. Or knock me unconscious.”

“...” The Sword Saint.

The Sword Saint, who had just been preparing to act, froze.

His body swayed.

Back when he lost to Prince of Jingnan, the Sword Saint had complained to Zheng Fan that Tian Wujing had used the logic of commanding a war to calculate a duel.

It was bullying beyond reason.

But this ability to anticipate the enemy first was genuinely impossible to solve.

If they forcibly took Prince of Jingnan back to Snow Sea Pass, there would naturally be an entire response process.

First, while Tian Wujing remained weak, they would have to find some way to seal him and prevent his cultivation from recovering.

Then there was the fact that Tian Wujing was even less able to show his face than the Savage King once had been. The Savage King’s original power base had long since collapsed, but if the Yan troops that once followed Prince of Jingnan’s banner learned that their prince was being imprisoned by Count Pingye, they would go mad and come slaughtering their way over.

After he was “imprisoned,” they could arrange for Tian Tian to spend every day within Tian Wujing’s sight.

Let the child play.

Let the child approach him.

Use the child to soften him and move him.

The routine was obvious.

Easy to arrange.

Easy to design...

But what was the final purpose?

Tian Wujing stepped forward.

“This is what you want to see?”

You want me to live worse than death.

Zheng Fan closed his eyes.

Earlier, when he said, “This general respectfully asks Your Highness to die,” put plainly, it had been a rush of blood to the head.

Before that moment, he had never seriously designed any long-term plan like this.

Because he had never believed Prince of Jingnan could be someone he casually arranged and manipulated.

But the problem was this opportunity was once in a thousand years.

A chance to force Tian Wujing to submit.

“I want you to withdraw into the mountains. I want you to live with Tian Tian. I want you to stop living so tired.” Zheng Fan said, “I know, you know, plenty of people know that the road you are walking now has no return.”

“Zheng Fan, do you know what a road of no return means?”

Zheng Fan fell silent.

“A road of no return does not mean there are no other roads behind you or to either side. It means that except for continuing forward, every other road is a greater torment.”

Tian Wujing walked several more steps until he stood before Zheng Fan.

He raised a hand and rested it on Zheng Fan’s shoulder.

His body trembled faintly.

Not from fear.

From exhaustion far beyond ordinary limits.

Earlier, Zheng Fan had knocked him backward with one punch, but that was only part of it. Looking at the sea of fire now consuming Ying Capital, Tian Wujing had walked out alive, yes, but the price he paid had unquestionably been far greater than merely being “seriously wounded.”

Zheng Fan suppressed his breathing.

The corners of his eyes began turning red.

It was frustration.

A deep frustration twisted into anger.

“You’ve grown.”

Tian Wujing nodded and continued:

“I told you long ago that this world has no shortage of men scurrying after petty gains. What it lacks are men who can truly stand upright. In the past, you liked calculating small accounts too much. Small accounts can be calculated, but if you cannot settle the great account, then no matter how many small accounts you calculate, it means nothing. Let this Prince’s fate go where it will, all right? This life, this lifetime, can no longer be untangled clearly no matter how one argues over it. It cannot be washed clean either. So let it be this way. Let it end this way. This is the consequence this Prince brought upon himself. No one else is to blame. Besides, it is not as though this Prince was certain to die today. The Fire Phoenix failed to kill this Prince. This Prince had expected that already.”

He paused.

Then said:

“The boundary of the Second Grade is not something you enter yourself. You draw it out. Just like this great fire. If you want flame, strike one piece of wood and ignite it. Why walk into the sea of fire yourself just to obtain a spark?”

“...” The Sword Saint.

Those words were obviously not meant for Zheng Fan.

Count Pingye was nowhere near the level where he needed to think about the Second Grade.

“You...”

The Sword Saint gave a helpless smile.

Then nodded.

He stepped backward.

“Sorry to the children of Snow Sea Pass. Zheng Fan, I’m staying out of this.”

Whether Tian Wujing had meant to do it or not, whether the Sword Saint himself wanted to hear it or not, the words had been spoken.

And he had heard them.

For a true peak Third Grade expert, that one sentence was worth a fortune.

Because there was no way to test such a thing safely.

The last time the Sword Saint forced open the Second Grade outside Snow Sea Pass, he had nearly died on the spot.

Tian Wujing, however, had walked out of the sea of fire.

That proved he had tested it.

Perhaps tested it long ago.

And besides, other people’s words might require caution.

But Tian Wujing?

The Sword Saint knew perfectly well that mighty Prince of Jingnan would not play childish tricks with him over something like this.

What could he do?

Nothing.

A teacher for one word.

And this was guidance concerning the threshold of the peak realms.

Whatever else happened, the favor had to be acknowledged.

The moment the Sword Saint declared himself uninvolved, Count Pingye’s plan collapsed completely.

Without the Sword Saint watching Prince of Jingnan, who could possibly keep him restrained?

Prince of Jingnan was not Gou Moli.

Gou Moli’s individual combat strength was practically nonexistent.

But once Prince of Jingnan recovered, he would be even more terrifying than Sha Tuo Queshi had once been.

Zheng Fan wanted to save him.

Not kill him.

He wanted to help him.

Not harm him.

Was he supposed to pierce Tian Wujing’s body with iron chains and feed him poison every day to stop his cultivation from recovering?

What kind of insanity would that be?

Did Zheng Fan and Tian Wujing have some blood feud?

Tian Wujing looked at Zheng Fan.

From some point earlier, the smile had never left his face.

He raised a hand and patted Zheng Fan’s shoulder.

“I miss those stuffed steamed buns from your army camp. They were very fragrant.”

Zheng Fan drew a deep breath and tilted his head slightly upward.

“Whether you rebel against Yan is up to you. What this Prince likes has always been only that Black Dragon Banner. But the momentum you had just now was not bad. Live freely. Live clearly. Live without restraints. That is the way you should be. How about this? If another opportunity comes in the future, this Prince will call you over to discuss it together. We can discuss the death most suitable for this Prince. A death that satisfies you. How does that sound?”

Standing behind them, Fourth Lady could not help feeling a little sour in the heart.

She was a woman who had long since seen through ordinary romance and worldly desire.

But at this moment, she was unexpectedly struck by the relationship between the two men before her.

Not that kind.

It was a profound harmony of spirit.

He understood the other man’s pain.

And he was willing to fulfill the other man’s freedom.

Teacher.

Friend.

Fellow traveler.

At that moment, Fourth Lady turned her head.

Someone was coming from behind.

No.

A group of people.

The Sword Saint sighed too.

Because he understood that there was no longer any choice.

The sea of fire filling Ying Capital was enormous. Finding someone inside it was difficult.

Yet one unit of Jingnan soldiers came straight toward them.

At their front was actually Prince of Jingnan’s Pixiu.

The creature had been burned almost black from head to toe and looked miserable beyond words. Its hide was thick enough that even though it looked like a little cumin could be sprinkled over it and it could be served directly to the table, it still somehow carried a stubborn air of majesty.

The moment it spotted Tian Wujing, the Pixiu immediately rushed toward him.

The surrounding soldiers gathered as well.

“Greetings, Your Highness!”

“Your Highness, you’re safe!”

“Your Highness is mighty!”

No one drew a saber against Count Pingye.

No one would believe Count Pingye could possibly harm Prince of Jingnan.

The moment those soldiers arrived, Zheng Fan knew his chance was gone.

Prince of Jingnan’s power did not come only from terrifying personal strength.

Behind him stood a mighty army absolutely loyal to him.

If he were merely one Martial Artist, he would not actually be quite so frightening.

Zheng Fan raised his head.

The blood-red cast slowly faded from his eyes.

He did not worry Tian Wujing would settle accounts with him afterward.

He did not worry Tian Wujing would punish him.

He did not worry Tian Wujing would distance himself in the future or change the support and favor he had always shown.

If Tian Wujing intended to do any of that, he would have said so directly earlier and made his attitude clear.

Count Pingye often acted for the sake of “living.”

Back when he still needed to face too many people as an “Oscar-winning actor,” the list had been long.

As he climbed higher, it became shorter and shorter.

Even when dealing with the imperial princes in Yanjing, if he lacked interest he could no longer be bothered performing.

The point of working hard was to become increasingly able to face the people and events of the world with ease.

Old Tian disdained acting altogether.

He had always lived honestly.

After exterminating his own clan, he never offered a single explanation.

After Du Juan died and two decree-bearing eunuchs smashed their heads to death outside the Marquis Residence, he still did not say one extra word.

Just as earlier, when Zheng Fan asked him to choose, he directly chose to reject the arrangement.

After today, the fire of Ying Capital would continue burning for many more days.

If Great Yan failed to unite all beneath Heaven, future historians would say Yan barbarians burned away Great Chu’s cultural treasures with one savage torch.

If Great Yan did unite the realm, and did not immediately collapse in the second generation, then so long as the dynasty lasted a little while, this fire would become nothing more than an insignificant interlude.

And the relationship between the two men would return to where it had always been.

Perhaps

Little Sixth would even envy this sort of “understanding” and “relationship.”

Because Little Sixth knew perfectly well that if he rebelled against his own father and failed, his father, the Emperor of Yan, would absolutely not say:

Everything remains as before. You are still my good son.

No.

More likely, Emperor Yan would erupt in fury:

“You cannot even rebel properly, and you still deserve to call yourself Our son?”

Then

Little Sixth would follow his Third Brother down the same road.

For the same reason, Fourth Lady only sighed silently in her heart and showed no nervousness at all.

The Sword Saint licked his lips.

He did not believe some storm would erupt next either.

And in fact, nothing did.

Tian Wujing even spoke first:

“You thought this Prince was deliberately stalling for time?”

Stalling.

Waiting until his Pixiu followed his scent and led soldiers over?

Because once Jingnan soldiers arrived, Zheng Fan could not rebel even if he wanted to.

Count Pingye had played an enormous role in this war, but his own personal troops were still too few.

At the end of the day, if he truly wanted to rebel, it would not actually be impossible.

He could wait until returning home.

Or earlier, he could have taken Tian Wujing away first, then used the pretext that Prince of Jingnan had fallen to rapidly seize a portion of military authority, privately contact his elder brother-in-law, and decisively defect.

But now, thinking about any of that had no point.

It was not even worth considering.

At that very moment, the Regent of Chu, whose traveling court rested at Mount Liugong, had no idea that in those few brief moments earlier, he had nearly possessed a sliver of possibility to reverse the entire situation immediately.

Zheng Fan said nothing.

Tian Wujing reached out and gently patted the Pixiu’s head.

The ring of fur around its neck had already been burned black and curled.

The creature opened its mouth and spat out a black broken saber.

Broken saber did not mean a damaged blade.

It was simply a style of saber.

Whether that form had been deliberately chosen during forging was difficult to say, but it did not interfere with use.

How could a divine weapon passed down through the Shadow lineage possibly be some ordinary damaged scrap?

Tian Wujing pointed at the saber lying on the ground.

“This is Wuyai. Earlier, this Prince worried he might not make it out. This Prince was afraid Wuyai would be lost in the fire, so he had the Pixiu carry it outside first.”

Count Pingye bent down and picked up Wuyai.

The moment he lifted it, he understood this was a true divine weapon.

Far superior to his own Barbarian Saber.

Yet because of everything that had happened earlier, he felt very little joy or excitement.

“The war is not finished,” Prince of Jingnan said.

Zheng Fan looked at Tian Wujing.

“This Prince is badly injured. Since you are here, that works out well. You will command this army for now. What you said earlier was right. This war needs to be brought to an end. We have fought far enough.”

Zheng Fan did not kneel.

He did not react as he once had, half anxious and half excited, shouting:

“This general obeys!”

He simply nodded calmly.

Prince of Jingnan looked at Zheng Fan and said:

“Tell this Prince how you intend to finish it.”

Zheng Fan sighed.

Then laughed.

He lifted Wuyai and pointed it toward the surrounding sea of fire.

“My elder brother-in-law abandoned his capital long ago. Truthfully, he doesn’t want to keep fighting either.”

Prince of Jingnan gave a slight nod.

“Yes.”

“If neither side wants to fight anymore, then we simply need to find a set of stairs both sides can walk down.”

“Continue.”

“His traveling court isn’t here. He should have taken the civil and military officials he values and left in advance. But he won’t be too far away. I’ll take this Jingnan cavalry and catch up with his traveling court. Wherever he relocates, I’ll fight my way there. I’ll chase him while he runs and keep fighting as he flees. Fight long enough, and the stairs will appear. Then we can negotiate peace.”

Tian Wujing looked toward the Pixiu.

The exhausted beast had no choice but to lower its head and spit out Prince of Jingnan’s command token from its mouth.

Within the Jingnan Army, they did not recognize the Emperor’s tiger tally.

They recognized only Prince of Jingnan’s command.

Prince of Jingnan pointed at the token on the ground.

“Take it.”

That meant the nearly eighty thousand Jingnan cavalry Tian Wujing had brought into Chu would now be under Zheng Fan’s command for the remainder of the campaign.

Count Pingye slung Wuyai across his shoulder.

Turned away.

Waved one hand.

“No need for that thing.”

“You have grown arrogant.”

“You spoiled me.”

[End of Chapter 588]