Chapter 73:
Sometimes she even suspected that this man had figured her out completely.
Otherwise, how would he know that she loved seeing this side of him, always teasing her heart just right to make it itch.
Actually, Xie Wanning had always liked being around generous, bright, and straightforward people from childhood to adulthood, and she did not like this coy and shy temperament, regardless of gender.
Yet this demeanor, which could easily seem sleazy if one was not careful, appeared on him and inexplicably made people find it pleasing.
She propped her chin, softening her voice to tease: “I see you as clearly elegant and steady in temperament, so why do you always blush.”
Pei Yuqing raised his eyes to glance at her, saying faintly: “Just tease me a few less times.”
What Xie Wanning did not know was that Pei Yuqing had suffered from a heart condition since childhood and had long ago learned to stabilize his emotions. Over these many years, let alone blushing, even the simplest emotional fluctuations were rare on ordinary days.
His deference and gentleness were only shown on the surface; deep inside, he was cold, a coldness utterly different from Lu Ziyan’s.
Such coldness melted only in front of her, warming into spring water.
If he did not truly like her, how could he blush just from her teasing him a couple of times.
Xie Wanning naturally understood his feelings, and because she understood, she was so unrestrained.
…………
Yunzhou City.
The blazing sun scorched the earth, and the military camp sent to suppress the rebellion was stationed ten li outside the city gate.
In the central tent of the camp, several deputy generals under Lu Ziyan were fiercely discussing the details of tomorrow’s battle.
The Great Khan Dynasty had been founded for over two hundred years. Although emperors of every generation had been diligent and none had been tyrants, the internal corruption was still unstoppable, and the border tribes had begun stirring decades ago.
To guard the borders, the court had lost countless great generals. In the past two years, the borders had barely stabilized, but internal bandit unrest had erupted frequently.
This time, it was not even ragtag bandits, but Lu Ping, the Military Governor of Yunzhou, plotting rebellion.
Lu Ping had Qiang Tribe bloodline and was born a horse slave, yet he was exceptionally brave on the battlefield, achieving remarkable feats many times. He had once beheaded a Qiang Tribe leader with one stroke, earning deep favor from His Majesty.
There were only sixteen Military Governors in the Great Khan Dynasty, all Regional Governors who held heavy troops and guarded one side, true local emperors.
For Lu Ping, half an outsider, to ascend to this position was because His Majesty trusted his appointments and did not want to bury talent.
With such favor, any other minister would have been tearfully grateful, wishing to die for the country, but Lu Ping not only felt no gratitude—instead, with military power in hand, it fueled his wolfish ambitions day by day.
Some time ago, the Qing Tian Guard submitted a secret memorial stating that Lu Ping had allied with outsiders, planning to collude from inside and out to breach Yan Yun Pass and let the tribes in to bring cholera to the dynasty’s rivers and mountains.
Yan Yun Pass was one of the Great Khan’s four major passes, never breached in over two hundred years of the dynasty. If tribal cavalry broke through it, it would not only be a great humiliation but also directly threaten the safety of the capital city.
One can imagine how shocked the emperor was upon receiving the secret report. He was not a ruler who listened to one side; upon getting the news, he immediately issued an edict summoning Lu Ping to the capital to report.
As long as he dared enter the capital, the emperor was willing to believe his innocence.
Perhaps some outsider had deliberately misled the Qing Tian Guard with false information, stirring the emperor’s suspicions to wrongly kill a famous general and chill the hearts of the court’s generals and soldiers.
After all, such miscarriages of justice had occurred in history.
But Lu Ping dared not come to the capital.
He claimed that bandits had appeared in a small area of Yunzhou, that he had personally led troops to suppress them, suffered a minor injury, and not only could not enter the capital but also requested funds from the court to reward the soldiers who had “achieved great merit.”
The emperor issued three urgent summons in a row, and Lu Ping responded with this excuse each time, while secretly contacting the tribes frequently.
His intentions were already plain as day.
Unfortunately, Lu Ping did not know that though the vast dynasty was somewhat weak internally, the Qing Tian Guard’s eyes and ears still reached to the heavens. The letters he thought had reached the tribes had long been intercepted and presented on the imperial desk.
Lu Ziyan had led troops here this time to personally capture Lu Ping and bring him back to the capital for trial.
Yunzhou City had already been surrounded airtight by them; what remained was how to capture the man.
In the tent, the subordinates each held their views, debating heatedly. Those eager for merit argued for a strong assault, capturing the rebel general with thunderous momentum to display our army’s might.
The other side believed there were at least hundreds of thousands of citizens in the city; a strong assault would only lead to slaughter of the innocent and destroy Yunzhou City’s years of peace in an instant, requiring decades to recover.
These were all citizens under the Great Khan’s jurisdiction, not others’.
Better to besiege slowly than attack forcefully. Lu Ping had no reinforcements, and the city’s grain was limited; eventually it would run out, and they would have to come out to fight in desperation.
Though this would make the court’s suppression seem less imposing in the eyes of the people, it would minimize casualties.
The subordinates argued endlessly, while Lu Ziyan, the commander, sat at the head in plain clothes, eyes slightly closed, saying nothing, with faint dark circles under his eyes.
Suddenly, the tent flap was lifted, and a soldier on guard at the entrance entered holding a letter.
“General, a letter from the capital city.”
Lu Ziyan abruptly raised his eyes, took the letter, opened it, skimmed it at ten lines per glance, then read it carefully again, his expression inscrutable.
An old general with all white hair and beard at his side saw this and probed: “General Lu, is there news from the capital city?”
“This is my family letter, unrelated to the warfare. Continue discussing; I will go reply.”
With that, Lu Ziyan casually folded the letter paper, rose, and walked to the desk in the corner.
The letter was from Ming Jian, saying all was well in the capital city.
That heartless young lady had, as expected, not replied to him.
But it did not matter; he was not disappointed and would not be angry with her.
As long as she was willing to wait for him.
Lu Ziyan penned two letters, one to Ming Jian and the other to Xie Wanning.
In the letter, aside from not revealing any military strategies, he wished he could tell her every detail of his diet and daily life.
As he wrote, suddenly his hand paused, seemingly lost in thought, lingering without setting pen to paper.
Finally, he pursed his lips, turned his wrist, and four words quickly appeared on the white xuan paper.
Madly missing you…
His writing was like him, carrying a taste of proud aloofness, yet between the lines it was full of the opposite: gentle whispers.
After finishing the letter, Lu Ziyan looked at the words on it, somewhat unable to believe these affectionate words had come from his own hand.
He, a man of iron bones and battle-hardened aura, had actually written such soft love words.
But after hesitating for a moment, he still had his subordinate send it back to the capital city.
The deputy generals were still arguing; several hot-tempered ones were red in the face and thick in the neck, their voices so loud that Lu Ziyan in the corner slightly furrowed his brows.
