Chapter 135: Must Seize the Barrel of a Gun

Inside the room, Wei Wuji lay comfortably on the mat, holding Huan'er in his arms after they had finished making love.

“Young Master... Young Master...”

That same coarse voice dragged Wei Wuji out of his afterglow.

With a bitter look on his face, Wei Wuji turned toward the beauty beside him. “Huan'er, what do you think? Should we sew Zheng Dali's mouth shut?”

After being thoroughly exhausted by Wei Wuji, Huan'er was drenched in sweat and carefully tidying herself up. Hearing this, she froze.

“Young Master, why would you want to sew General Zheng's mouth shut?” Huan'er asked, turning her head and blinking her limpid eyes.

“Don't you think that fellow is simply too noisy?” Wei Wuji said helplessly.

At that very moment, Zheng Dali's coarse voice rang out from beyond the room, as though he feared no one could hear him.

“What are you shouting ab—ah! What are you shouting?” Wei Wuji immediately shouted back. That fellow was always ruining things.

Only after hearing Wei Wuji's angry rebuke did Zheng Dali fall silent outside.

As he dressed, Wei Wuji thought to himself that, apparently, every time this man came, it was always while he was in bed.

The realization gave Wei Wuji a terrible headache. Keeping Zheng Dali at his side was practically inviting disaster.

“I don't even want to scold you anymore. How many times have I told you not to rush around in such a panic? What are you getting so excited about?” Wei Wuji propped himself up and let Huan'er help him dress while continuing to grumble.

“Young Master, this time it really is something serious!” Zheng Dali said in a lowered voice from outside the door.

The sun outside was blazing. On top of that, Zheng Dali had just run in from outdoors, and his face was covered in sweat. He looked utterly miserable.

After dressing, Wei Wuji had Huan'er withdraw. Only then did he sit down in a rattan chair and lift a cup of cold tea. He called toward the door, “Come in.”

“Yes...”

Zheng Dali answered, followed by the creak of the door opening.

“Young Master, the Lord has returned victorious from the campaign and will be back soon.” Zheng Dali led with the news he had just received.

Wei Wuji immediately lost his composure and sprang to his feet.

“Really? When?” he asked in quick succession, clearly deeply concerned.

A capital without its lord was like a theater without an audience; none of its performances had any meaning. That was why Wuan City had been so “quiet.”

Once Lord Wei returned, everything would change. Wei Wuji was certain that the city would be far livelier than it was now.

“The palace guards were the ones who passed along the message, so it should be reliable. The Lord ought to be back within the next few days.” Zheng Dali wiped another handful of sweat from his forehead.

Seeing how pitiful Zheng Dali looked, Wei Wuji felt somewhat embarrassed. The man might have a loud mouth, but he was dependable when it came to getting things done.

Remembering how Zheng Dali had once taken the initiative to lead his men into battle and draw the Chen army's attention away from him, Wei Wuji's gaze softened.

“Here, have a cup of cold tea.” Wei Wuji pointed at the table and spoke in an even tone.

When Wei Wuji had distributed gifts to the guards as a reward, Zheng Dali had been the only one to refuse.

When asked why, Zheng Dali had replied, “My life was saved by Madam. Naturally, I should repay her faithfully, so I cannot accept Young Master Wei's reward.”

He regarded serving Wei Wuji as an obligation. Wei Wuji had been deeply moved by such devotion at the time.

“Perhaps I've been too hard on him,” Wei Wuji thought, feeling a slight pang of guilt.

When Zheng Dali remained standing where he was, Wei Wuji urged him, “Have some cold tea to cool yourself down. If you exhaust yourself, who will handle the work?”

Only then did Zheng Dali step forward as instructed. He picked up the cup and poured the tea into his mouth in great gulps.

Gulp after gulp, he emptied the entire cup as though he were a bull at a trough.

“If that wasn't enough, pour yourself another,” Wei Wuji said slowly, pointing at the table.

Zheng Dali did not stand on ceremony. He drank three more cups in succession, nearly emptying the whole pot.

Wei Wuji felt a pang at that. Huan'er had spent quite some time preparing that tea, only for this fellow to drink nearly all of it.

“My father is coming back. That's a good thing!” Wei Wuji murmured, stroking his chin as his thoughts began to race.

He could sense that once Lord Wei returned, his peaceful days would likely come to an end. He would have to start facing the arrows aimed at him from the darkness.

The people he had offended and the attention he had drawn in recent days would be the first to leap out against him.

“Dali, what day of the month is it?” Wei Wuji asked.

Zheng Dali stopped what he was doing and thought for a moment before answering, “Young Master, today is the twenty-sixth day of the seventh month.”

“The twenty-sixth...” Wei Wuji murmured, assuming a contemplative expression.

After a moment, he continued, “That means we've been back in Wuan City for nearly half a month.”

“Yes, Young Master,” Zheng Dali answered honestly, not understanding what Wei Wuji was getting at.

Wei Wuji's face took on a troubled expression as he said in a low voice, “We've also gone more than half a month without seeing those brothers of ours.”

Those brothers? Zheng Dali thought for a while before finally realizing whom Wei Wuji meant.

“Young Master, you want to go to the Wuan military camp?” he asked quietly.

“What? Am I not allowed to?” Wei Wuji glared, fixing his eyes on Zheng Dali's fierce face.

“Heh heh... Of course you are...” Zheng Dali replied with an awkward laugh. He had only asked a question.

Wei Wuji paid no attention to Zheng Dali's grievance. He rose, clasped his hands behind his back, and said, “The Lord's victorious return is a major event. Shouldn't we go tell them? Let them share in the joy.”

“Young Master is right...” Zheng Dali nodded, though inwardly he disagreed. The camp had probably already heard that the Lord was returning victorious.

Wei Wuji was not finished. He walked to the window and gazed at the lush green crowns of the trees outside.

“It has been so long since we've seen them. I find that I miss them rather badly.”

Zheng Dali was more willing to believe that reason.

He knew Wei Wuji fairly well. The changes he had witnessed in him, from before the last campaign to after it, had made him realize profoundly that Wei Wuji seemed born for the military camp.

Whether on the banks of the Ling River, in the forests of Fragrant River Mountain, or while defending Ironwood City, every battle had been extraordinarily difficult, yet every one had ended in victory.

In a certain sense, Wei Wuji could even be called a “general who always wins.” No wonder stories of his deeds had spread among the common people.

They were particularly impressed that Wei Wuji had dared to take the field personally and fight the Qin soldiers face-to-face.

If Zheng Dali had not accompanied Wei Wuji without ever leaving his side, he would surely have thought the man before him was an impostor.

Wei Wuji's astonishingly rapid “growth” further confirmed Zheng Dali's judgment: Wei Wuji had been born for war.

However, the man in question had not thought nearly so far.

His sole purpose in proposing a visit to the military camp was to strengthen his ties with the soldiers under his command.

After all, even relatives grew closer through frequent visits.

In the face of the dangers that were about to arrive, the only thing that could give Wei Wuji a sense of security was that army.

Only by holding them firmly in his grasp could he feel truly confident.

There was one saying he had always kept in mind:

“Political power grows out of the barrel of a gun.”