Chapter 7

“Now, the two of you can rest assured.”

Yan Nanjing stood there as the wolfhound ate its food; it would take some time to see if any poison would take effect. In the depth of winter, meals cool quickly, so one must seize the moment—leaving the food to sit too long would cause it to chill and the oil to congeal. Even if it retained some warmth, it would be difficult to swallow.

By now, it was about right.

She raised an eyebrow at the young man. Earlier, he had been furious and ready to confront her, but when his shoulder was gripped firmly, the anger on his face had to be suppressed. Gritting his teeth, he retreated.

“I don’t know how else to prove my innocence, so I’m forced to take this measure.”

She glanced at the wolfhound leisurely finishing its meal in the courtyard. “This dog will stay here. It serves two purposes: to guard the gate for you gentlemen, and to test whether the food is poisoned.”

The young man was about to explode again, but the hand on his shoulder squeezed tighter. The pain in his shoulder bone forced him to quiet down once more.

When Yan Nanjing casually left with A Yuan, the young man could no longer hold back. “Jingyue, why do you always stop me?”

“That woman is strikingly beautiful, but when it comes to biting and striking, she’s unmatched—even compared to those truly rough village women, she’s fiercer.”

The young man sat by the hearth, muttering to himself. “You’re so angry, yet you still care about her looks. Seems like you’re not truly mad.”

Jingyue was rendered speechless by this remark, unable to reply for a long while.

“Move all the food here. Do you really want to eat cold things?”

Jingzhou was not as cold as the Central Plains, but winter’s chill was still formidable. By now, the meals had mostly cooled.

The young man obeyed and shifted everything from the four-legged table over.

The fire in the hearth had been lit the night before; faint embers still remained. The man beside him poked at the fully burned wood, scattering it and adding a handful of dry grass. The weak flames quickly licked at the dry grass, bursting into a more vigorous blaze.

He grabbed small branches neatly stacked by the hearth—easy to reach with just a stretch of the hand.

The food was cold now, and without even an iron pot to boil water on the fire, no matter how strong the flames, they could only warm the body, not reheat the meal.

The soup had been simmered with mutton bones, a touch of meat and fat added to help endure the damp cold of winter.

When steaming hot, it carried the rich aroma of meat and bones. But once cold, a layer of hardened mutton fat floated atop the broth, and the savory scent turned into an indescribable gamey odor.

It was not only unappetizing to eat but even to smell.

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“Jingyue, do you think they might have guessed who we are?”

The young man asked.

“Even if they did, it wouldn’t be surprising. After all, the way we looked back then—like lost dogs—it wouldn’t be hard to figure out.”

The Central Plains had been engulfed in endless war, and the imperial court had become a mere figurehead. Neither the royal princes nor the local warlords heeded its decrees.

With the court powerless, the princes and lords vied for dominance, forming alliances and betraying each other. Over the years, a few forces in the north had grown relatively strong.

Among them, Qi Xun, who held sway in the Eastern Commandery, was particularly prominent. Recently, Qi Xun had seized Yanzhou, neighboring Jingzhou, and continued marching south, eyeing Jingzhou.

Jingzhou was a strategic gateway to the south, and once taken, nearly half of the fertile lands of Wu and Chu would fall under their control.

Qi Xun sent his eldest and second sons along with his generals to lead the army.

Qi Yun, Qi Xun’s eldest, was not the commanding general. Though tall and only seventeen, he deferred to his uncle.

When the Qi army arrived in Jingzhou, the northern soldiers were unaccustomed to the water and climate. Many fell ill. Then came the damp, cold winter. Locals said this winter’s chill was unusually severe.

If it were only cold, it wouldn’t be so bad; northerners were hardy against cold. But Jingzhou’s winter was different. Snow fell but never stayed on the ground, melting instantly and turning roads into muddy quagmires. The wheels of supply wagons sank deep into the mire, making logistics a nightmare.

Gradually, rations became scarce. If food ran out, mutiny was close at hand.

Qi Yun saw little chance of confidently taking Jingzhou. At best, it would be a costly stalemate.

Given the current situation, losing vital strength to seize Jingzhou was not worthwhile.

He shared his thoughts with his uncle, Qi Huan. But before his uncle could decide, they were struck by a night raid.

With supply shortages and disease, the army’s morale was already fractured. The sudden attack threw them into chaos.

In the confusion, orders broke down, friend and foe were indistinguishable—a cardinal sin. The army collapsed like a house of cards.

Qi Yun led Zheng Xuanfu in escape to a mansion on the city’s outskirts.

“It’s all just conspiracy and deceit,” Zheng Xuanfu sneered. “If they had the guts, why not face us openly rather than resort to such underhanded night raids?”

Qi Yun smiled. “You’re too idealistic.”

“War is the art of deception. All the military treatises say it plainly: assess the situation, deceive if you can, strike ruthlessly when you must.”

“As for chivalry, gentlemen die faster on the battlefield.”

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Finishing his words, Qi Yun tilted his head back and swallowed the now-cold mutton broth.

Zheng Xuanfu, from the prestigious Zheng family of Xingyang, had lived a life of luxury since childhood. Seeing Qi Yun finish his bowl in a few gulps, he glanced down.

The layer of hardened mutton fat floated atop the soup, carrying that pungent gamey scent.

The mutton Zheng Xuanfu ate back home came from Wuwei Commandery, mostly purchased from the Xianbei and Wuhuan tribes. Grazing on Gobi medicinal grass, the meat was tender and free of any unpleasant odor.

He could hardly tolerate this; an instant wave of nausea rose in his stomach, and he wanted to fling the bowl aside.

But just as he moved, Qi Yun stopped him with a glance. “Eat it.”

“I—” Zheng Xuanfu tried to protest.

“Now is not the time for indulgence. Besides, this food is what keeps us alive.”

Qi Yun pressed his thumb on the bowl’s rim, then with a little force, drained the entire bowl down his throat.

The broth was sticky and icy cold. When the bowl was empty, Zheng Xuanfu clutched his throat, coughing violently.

Qi Yun wiped his hand. “Right now, having shelter over our heads and food in our bellies is a blessing. There’s no extra for you to show off. If you want to survive, behave.”

Zheng Xuanfu finally managed to cough out the lodged food, pounding his chest hard, feeling much better.

“Jingyue only scolds me. What about you? You’ve tolerated that young woman time and again. If they guess who we are, it’ll be too late.”

Before Zheng Xuanfu finished, Qi Yun chuckled.

“Do you even know whose home this is?”

He looked up questioningly.

“Yang Zhijian’s household.”