Vol. 2 - Ch. 58 - Northward to the Grasslands!

Daming and Xiong Shan uncorked their wine jars. The two of them hoisted the jars and continued drinking.

After their sworn brotherhood, the distance between them had shrunk considerably.

“Brother Ming, what exactly are your thoughts about that girl Xiuxiu?” Xiong Shan asked, swallowing a mouthful of wine.

“Do you ever see her and feel this urge… to hold her tight, to… you know…”

Xiong Shan’s face twisted into a peculiar expression, his eyes glinting.

Daming, still innocent in the ways of the world, didn’t quite grasp the meaning behind Xiong Shan’s look.

He shook his head, a trace of confusion crossing his face.

Resting his left hand on the wine jar, Daming’s tone dipped slightly.

“I… I don’t know,” he muttered.

“I just want to be with her.”

“No matter what we’re doing.”

“Even if it’s just chatting or watching the clouds…”

“I’d be content.”

“As for…” Daming’s cheeks flushed slightly. Embarrassed, he said, “As for hugging her—I wouldn’t even dare to think about it.”

The image of Xiuxiu surfaced unbidden in his mind.

A soft smile curled at the corner of his lips. He stared blankly at the table, as if Xiuxiu were right there before him.

Hearing Daming’s words, Xiong Shan froze for a moment.

A thoughtful look appeared in his eyes.

When he looked back at Daming, his gaze carried a new sense of respect.

“Brother Ming, it seems I had the wrong idea.”

“I’ve sullied the thought. I’ll punish myself—three… three mouthfuls!”

He had intended to say “three cups,” but of course, they weren’t using any cups.

So he grabbed the jar and took three hefty gulps, offering penance.

Daming snapped back to reality, the illusion in his mind dissolving.

He gave a bitter smile and waved it off.

Xiuxiu was already gone.

What use was there in saying all this now?

He picked up the wine again and drank deeply.

Only the drink could numb his sorrow, if only for a little while.

Seeing Daming’s grim expression as he downed mouthful after mouthful of liquor, Xiong Shan pondered in silence.

Then he said seriously, “Brother Ming, I can see your heart is troubled.”

“Staying here in Jingzhou will only bring you more pain.”

“Why not come north with me? Get away for a while, clear your head.”

Xiong Shan knew Daming’s heart was pure, and Xiuxiu’s death must have hit him hard.

It would take time—perhaps a long time—for Daming to move on.

Daming’s face was flushed from drink, and a dazed look lingered in his eyes.

“Is it far?” he asked quietly.

Xiong Shan tore into some braised meat, chewing heartily.

“With fast horses, we can reach it in a month.”

“You’ve never seen the grasslands, have you?”

“Come with me. I’ll give you the highest honor.”

“The grasslands are beautiful—once you’ve seen them, you’ll never forget them.”

As he spoke, Xiong Shan’s gaze turned hazy, as though lost in old memories.

A gentle breeze swept through.

The grass on the plains swayed lightly, like rolling waves of green.

Cattle and sheep roamed freely, grazing leisurely under the vast sky.

Xiong Shan described the scenery and the amusing tales of the grasslands.

Listening, Daming’s eyes gradually filled with longing.

“Well, Brother Ming?” Xiong Shan rumbled.

“I can arrange for swift horses in Jingzhou. We can leave soon.”

Daming shook his head. “It’s too far…”

“I’d love to go. But I need to discuss it with my father first.”

“And also…”

The gentle, graceful image of Zhang Wan’er suddenly appeared in Daming’s mind.

“I need to apologize to Wan’er.”

For reasons unknown, Daming suddenly felt incredibly clear-headed.

Inwardly, utterly lucid.

He realized he hadn’t even said goodbye to Wan’er when he left home this time.

Regardless of anything else, he was still, at least nominally, her betrothed.

A confused look appeared in Daming’s eyes.

Perhaps it was the wine—but somehow, everything that had once seemed so unclear now felt so obvious.

When Xiong Shan heard the name “Wan’er,” he paused.

“Who’s Wan’er?”

Daming explained her background.

As he spoke, he recalled her kindness and grace. His tone, unconsciously, grew a little more admiring.

When he finished, Xiong Shan looked startled, his expression turning oddly conflicted.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, then fell silent.

After a long pause, he sighed. “Brother Ming, you really are a remarkable man.”

At this point, Xiong Shan truly didn’t know how to describe Daming.

Daming gave a bitter laugh and took another swig.

Though the alcohol was rising to his head, his eyes only grew clearer.

He finally understood why Chen Ye had asked him before he left:

“What do you think of Xiuxiu?”

“And what about Wan’er?”

Now Daming understood.

He liked Xiuxiu, wanted to stay by her side.

But he also had responsibilities.

He was engaged to Wan’er…

Daming kept drinking. His heart ached, but his thoughts grew sharper.

He realized, suddenly, just how unfair he had been to Wan’er.

Gulp, gulp...

With a frustrated sigh, he raised the wine jar again and took a long drink.

Xiong Shan watched him, brows tightening.

A woodcutter’s daughter…

A fiancée…

If Daming already had a marriage arrangement, then he couldn’t just abandon her.

But if Daming were to follow him into battle one day, that identity alone wouldn’t be enough.

A flicker of calculation flashed in Xiong Shan’s eyes.

“Brother Ming! Why don’t I go back with you? We’ll bid farewell to your father, get his blessing—then we’ll head north together.”

“There’s still time.”

Daming paused mid-drink, a smile forming on his lips. “That sounds good.”

Listening to Xiong Shan’s description earlier had stirred a yearning for the grasslands in his heart.

Seeing Daming agree, Xiong Shan smiled faintly, a gleam flashing in his eyes.

If this Wan’er truly was the gentle, virtuous girl Daming claimed…

He could adopt her as his sworn sister. When he eventually took the throne—

The sister of the future Lord of Great Liao would carry a royal title.

Then, Daming would never have to worry about any gap in their social status…

Xiong Shan looked at Daming, his gaze full of plans.

Daming drank quietly, lost in grief.

Unaware that, with just a few words, his “good big brother” had already charted out the road ahead.

…

Jingzhou, Wuchang Prefecture

Inside a certain residence...

Crack— A sharp snap echoed.

Wan Qing crushed the teacup in his hand.

Porcelain shards scattered. The sharp fragments dug into his palm.

Tea trickled down from his hand, dripping onto the floor.

His pale, jade-like fingers clenched the broken pieces, crushing the tea leaves inside as well.

The sharp porcelain had pierced him—

But his hand remained unscathed.

Not a single cut.

Grit…

Wan Qing’s handsome face twisted with fury, teeth grinding.

The porcelain shards in his hand crumbled into dust, mixing with tea leaves into a dark clump.

Before him, a warrior knelt on one knee.

“They’ve lost their minds!”

“Assassinating a provincial administrator in broad daylight?!”

“Madmen!”

“Those two are absolute lunatics!”

Wan Qing cursed furiously, veins bulging on his forehead, expression feral.

With a forceful flick, he hurled the broken tea pulp onto the floor—it struck hard, leaving a small dent.

His face darkened as he paced.

The gentle, cultured, noble demeanor he usually wore had vanished entirely.

Wan Qing now looked like a caged beast, consumed with rage.

The kneeling warrior waited until Wan Qing had cooled slightly, then continued, “According to intel, the relief silver has also been lost.”

“The Yuye Hall somehow found it and has already delivered it to Jingzhou...”

At that, Wan Qing nearly coughed up blood.

“Useless!”

“Completely useless!”

He grit his teeth, eyes burning with fury.

Both operations had failed.

Impossible!

Wan Qing couldn’t fathom it.

Every detail had been arranged to perfection.

How could it still fall apart?

Zhang Moxiang might’ve met two lunatics—but what about the silver?

How could even that have gone wrong?

A deep sense of frustration surged in his chest.

Both plans should’ve been flawless!

So why did they fail?

Why?

“AHHH!”

Wan Qing howled at the ceiling, eyes bloodshot, like a wounded animal.

He couldn’t understand it.

The kneeling warrior remained silent, awaiting orders.

After a few more howls, Wan Qing calmed. A cold gleam appeared in his eyes.

“Tell our people in the cult to accelerate the plan. The court will react within three days.”

“Convert as many fools as possible—however many we can reach!”

The warrior nodded hard. “Yes, sir!”

Wan Qing waved him away with a grim face.

The warrior stood, bowed, and exited, closing the door behind him.

A damp, chilly breeze blew past.

He lifted his head slightly, revealing an ordinary face—

But over his left eye, he wore a black eyepatch.

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