Chapter 147: Only Resting After Getting Drunk

“My lord, it is hard to say for sure...” Zheng Dali said with uncertainty.

Martial arts was not something one could master overnight. It required immense dedication, the ability to endure hardship, and the resilience to weather several freezing winters and scorching summers.

“In other words, I still have a chance?” Wei Wuji leaned forward, his face full of optimistic hope. Since Zheng Dali had not completely dashed his hopes, he figured the heavens had not entirely shut the door on him.

Zheng Dali mumbled and said nothing more; this was a matter he could not judge. Besides, as a noble young lord, why would he ever need to learn these deadly arts meant for risking one's life? That was precisely what guards like them were for.

“My lord... there is a great deal of bitterness to endure in this. Just look at the previous training of the Wei Martial Warriors—it was far too grueling...” Zheng Dali advised, trying to persuade him.

Furthermore, he understood all too well that even after going through such training, its practical application was limited. Without experiencing real life-and-death combat time and again, the growth of one's personal martial prowess was bound to be minimal.

“It matters not... No matter how grueling it is, this lord can endure it,” Wei Wuji interrupted directly. In the short term, he had no way to elevate his status or increase his control over military power. Thus, the only thing within his grasp was to boost his personal martial strength.

Even if it wasn't enough to deal with assassins, it would certainly suffice to put arrogant young nobles like Wang Yu and Gaoyang in their place.

“Starting tomorrow, we shall begin training, right alongside the soldiers.” With this thought in mind, Wei Wuji declared with absolute finality.

He wanted to strike while the iron was hot, seizing the momentum of his fleeting enthusiasm before it faded and the idea was abandoned.

“Ah... My lord, won't you be returning to Wu'an? His Lordship the Marquis is about to lead the army back in triumph,” Zheng Dali reminded him at the opportune moment. He felt Wei Wuji was merely joking; this was not a matter to be treated as child's play.

Besides, who could possibly train him? Who would dare? At any rate, he, Zheng Dali, certainly did not dare. Therefore, the success or failure of this endeavor would rest entirely on Wei Wuji himself. The thought of completing the grueling training of the Wei Martial Warriors without anyone to supervise was simply unimaginable.

“My father is leading the army back, and naturally I will go to welcome him, but he has not returned yet!” Wei Wuji said dismissively.

After tossing a piece of meat into his mouth, Wei Wuji continued, “By my estimate, it will still take at least a month for Father and the main army to reach Wu'an, and they will surely be delayed along the way to receive local officials.”

Fine! He had offered a single objection, only to be blocked by Wei Wuji’s two lengthy counter-arguments. It seemed the young lord’s enthusiasm was not mere talk after all, Zheng Dali thought to himself.

Yet, refusing to give up, he pressed on with his persuasion, “My lord, Her Ladyship is also waiting at home for your return!”

At the mention of Lady Dan, Wei Wuji only smiled faintly. “No matter. We shall simply send a messenger back to inform her that I must remain in the military camp for a time.”

Before finishing, Wei Wuji added a strict caution, “Make sure word of my assassination attempt is not sent back, so as not to cause my mother undue worry.”

At this, Zheng Dali truly believed that Wei Wuji had made up his mind with absolute determination and confidence.

“As you command...” Zheng Dali bowed and replied. At any rate, this was hardly a bad thing—it was certainly better than returning to Wu'an City to dally with women.

Indeed, that was precisely what this loyal guard was thinking, especially given how many times he had stumbled upon the illicit romance between Wei Wuji and Huan'er.

“Very well! Excellent. For the days ahead, you shall be the one to supervise this lord!” Wei Wuji said with a deadpan, serious expression.

Zheng Dali’s face crumpled once more; after all, he could not escape this wretched chore. Given how many times he had been cursed at in the past, how could he possibly dare to supervise Wei Wuji?

He could neither hit him nor scold him—it was nothing short of a bitter ordeal, a fate Zheng Dali could already foresee.

“Splendid, splendid, splendid...” Wei Wuji was overjoyed, leaping to his feet and clapping in delight.

At times, human emotions easily surged to a peak, reaching a state of boundless inflation. Wei Wuji could already envision himself with off-the-charts martial prowess, radiating youthful vigor and heroism, securing the moniker of a brilliant young master, and becoming the object of adoration for all the maidens in Wu'an City.

“And what about that beautiful Lady Cao? Why can’t I seem to get her out of my mind?” At that moment, that exquisite face suddenly floated into the forefront of Wei Wuji's consciousness.

Was it love at first sight, or was he simply incapable of walking away upon seeing a beauty? Wei Wuji found it difficult to distinguish between the two feelings.

Yet the outcome was identical: possession. Not only that, but Wei Wuji harbored even grander ambitions, for no one ever complained about having too much power or too many beauties.

Since he had arrived in such a magnificent and turbulent era, he would grasp the supreme power and take unto himself the most stunning beauties. What did Wu'an City amount to? Even the State of Wei could not satisfy him; he would let none of the various rival states slip through his fingers, and even among the princesses of the Zhou royal house, he would simply have to capture a couple to warm his bed, Wei Wuji mused inwardly.

His thoughts not only shifted rapidly, but expanded faster and traveled further.

Patting Zheng Dali on the shoulder, Wei Wuji said with bold, unrestrained spirit, “Dali, my boy, work hard alongside this lord, and one day I’ll capture a princess for you to warm your bed.”

Such words from Wei Wuji could only be described as treasonous. Even though the Zhou royal house was in decline, no one had yet dared to openly defy them; even the Marquis of Wei still had to wage war against the State of Chen under the banner of "clearing the ruler's side."

And yet, here was Wei Wuji casually telling Zheng Dali that he would capture a princess for him to warm his bed.

It seemed this young lord had long since ceased to hold any reverence for the Zhou royal house, Zheng Dali reflected, recalling their earlier encounter in the territory of Tiedlin.

While Wei Wuji could afford to speak recklessly, Zheng Dali dared not echo such sentiments; the implications were simply too immense.

“My lord, such words must not be spoken carelessly...” Zheng Dali stammered evasively, his back bending a few inches lower.

Wei Wuji chuckled derisively; this fellow's courage truly waxed and waned unpredictably.

“Enough of that. Let us go down and share a cup with the brothers below!” Wei Wuji said slowly. This, too, was an indispensable step in his plan.

To communicate directly with the rank-and-file soldiers in this manner would undoubtedly foster a profound sense of intimacy.

For an exalted, supremely revered young lord to clink cups and drink wine with ordinary soldiers—was that not something to be proud of, something to savor, something that made a man willing to pour out his heart and soul?

The answer was a resounding yes. Moreover, if Wei Wuji wished to turn the tables on his fate, having no path open to him among the upper echelons, he had to rise from the bottom up.

And so, carrying a jar of wine in one hand and holding a bowl in the other, Zheng Dali followed closely behind Wei Wuji as they walked down toward the parade platform.

“Greetings, My lord!”

The moment Wei Wuji stepped down, the soldiers stationed near the platform ceased their tasks and knelt in unison.

They were immensely gladdened by Wei Wuji’s arrival; after all, it was rare to have such close contact with the "idol" in their hearts.

“Rise, all of you, rise!” Wei Wuji smiled genially, projecting an aura of approachability. One had to admit, his acting skills were improving by the day.

“Thank you, My lord...” The crowd bowed once more before cautiously standing up, looking very much like devout believers.

Wei Wuji’s performance continued. As he walked among the soldiers, those closest to him immediately cleared a path.

Nodding to the man nearest him, Wei Wuji seated himself with bold, commanding ease, then pressed his hands downward in a gesture telling everyone to sit.

“Drink freely today, and let no one stand on ceremony,” Wei Wuji said in a clear, resonant voice, his demeanor remarkably poised.

“We thank the lord!” The crowd bowed yet again before cautiously perching on the long benches, awaiting whatever the young lord might have to say to them.

“During the campaign against Chen, you have all labored arduous hours...” Wei Wuji opened the conversation, chatting casually with the men.

Being approachable was not merely a matter of shouting empty slogans; one had to attend to every detail, truly communicating with the soldiers, listening to their opinions, and resolving their hardships.

Only by doing so could he solidify and embellish the lofty image he had just established atop the parade platform.

...

All through the afternoon, Wei Wuji’s mouth did not rest, and he partook of a generous amount of wine.

With food and drink provided in abundance, the soldiers drank their fill as well, truly drinking until they were thoroughly intoxicated.