Chapter 546 - Chapter 546 - 268: Until Next Year’s Full Moon Night

Chapter 546: Chapter 268: Until Next Year’s Full Moon Night

She figured Zheng Xiu would, at most, get close but not go all the way... After all, they were Orchids. Just Orchids. ’Who made us into Orchids?’ she wondered. ’What did we do wrong?’ Then again, they were also pitiful souls who had become Mystics for no reason at all. As Feng Bei thought about it, she felt a strange sense of kinship with them, born from shared misfortune.

Zheng Xiu breathed in the faint scent of her hair, so close to his neck. The familiar scene stirred old memories, and the past ten years flashed through his mind like a slideshow.

"How about this year..."

Zheng Xiu said casually, his voice as light and airy as a cloud.

"Hmm?"

Feng Bei’s nose twitched, and she let out a soft hum like a kitten.

"I’ll have the Monk come back. The Monk and Second Lady can act as the parents for both sides. We’ll ask Xi’er to play the role of matchmaker, and we can get engaged."

Xi’er’s name just sounded auspicious.

Feng Bei was silent.

Zheng Xiu smiled faintly. "When the moon is full on the fifteenth of the eighth month next year, I will no longer be Gongsun Mo, and you will no longer be Xie Luohe. I, Zheng Xiu—the Red King, the Richest Person, the great philanthropist—will take the sole daughter of the Feng Clan as my bride."

"This time, it will be a wedding that truly belongs to ’us.’ With Heaven and Earth as our witness, and the sun and moon as our testament. You will illuminate my life with your lifelong radiance, and I will promise you the rest of mine."

"Alright."

Feng Bei’s expression was calm, showing not a hint of surprise. She agreed readily.

For the first time in a long while, a soft, gentle smile appeared on her face.

...

「November.」

The autumn air was cold and brisk. A desolate wind swirled, carrying the scent of decay as it howled and spun fallen leaves across the city walls.

The Monk, having heard that Zheng Xiu and Feng Bei were getting engaged, was already on his way back.

He said he was bringing a relic of Master Dengdeng’s and that he wanted Zheng Xiu to see it with his own eyes.

Zheng Xiu waited quietly, periodically checking the Monk Post Station’s travel route.

The Monk’s existence held a special meaning for Feng Bei. Even if she never said it, Zheng Xiu knew that ever since the incident with the Cannibal Painting, a subtle bond had formed between them.

The Monk was like the only family Feng Bei had left in the world.

Thinking of the Monk, Zheng Xiu would often recall their time in Richan Valley. Every year, the Monk would travel across the Great Desert, dusty and weary, just to visit the two of them. He would leave after a night of heavy drinking, leaving a complete mess behind. The memory always brought a knowing smile to Zheng Xiu’s face.

「Mid-November.」

North of the Imperial City, a column of troops approached, marching under a fluttering, blood-red war banner. They were a starkly distinct group.

Escorting them at the front and rear were a thousand elite soldiers of the Divine Martial Army, led by the Military General of Haoran Pass, Shen Shizong. He had not returned for ten years since his appointment to the pass. He had left as a handsome and brilliant young man, but now returned with a face full of stubble, a poignant reminder of the passage of time and lost youth. ℯℓ.

News that the envoys from the Northern Kingdom had arrived in the Capital City spread through the Imperial City as if on wings. After learning of this, Zheng Xiu was now seated in the top-floor Venerable Room of the Fragrant Pavilion, looking down from his high vantage point at the procession.

The reason the envoy’s procession was described as "starkly distinct" was because the attire of the Northern Barbarians was completely different from that of Daqian. The Northern Barbarians and Daqian had fought on and off for centuries. Among the common folk, the mere mention of "Barbarians" was enough to make people pale. The streets were now empty, the citizens having barred their doors and windows, afraid that even a single glance at the Barbarians would bring disaster.

The Barbarians wore greatcloaks and sweaters stitched from animal hides, looking utterly out of place in Daqian. They rode magnificent black horses, tall and powerfully built, their coats so dark and glossy it seemed as if even their sweat would be black.

’So this is the legendary Black Wind, the ultimate warhorse that the Barbarians spent centuries breeding? They used a method akin to cultivating Gu—culling the weak and keeping the strong, generation after generation. Looking at them now, they truly radiate a murderous aura. Daqian’s warhorses are restless next to these Black Wind Horses, completely outmatched in presence alone. No wonder they could make Daqian’s elites flee in disarray twenty years ago.’

Zheng Xiu could tell with a single glance that the horses bred by the Barbarians were extraordinary, and he was secretly alarmed. Behind the envoy’s procession were several carriages covered with waterproof tarps. He couldn’t see what was inside, but he figured it was just the usual tribute unique to the Northern Kingdom.

Just then, a particularly petite figure among the envoys caught Zheng Xiu’s attention. Amidst a dozen burly, towering men, the small figure seemed incredibly out of place and jarring. It looked like a woman from the Northern Kingdom.

Tribute, women, and probably gold... Zheng Xiu knew this was the standard trifecta for foreign missions, so that part wasn’t surprising. What did surprise him was that the Northern Barbarians, after years of fighting, had reversed their usual stance. They had made a great show of traveling thousands of miles to negotiate peace. This was a "major event" that had never before occurred in the history of Daqian.

’What does this have to do with me, anyway?’

Just then, the exquisite dishes prepared by Chef He were served one after another. The Red King had just stopped by his own restaurant for a meal. With a "none of my business" attitude, Zheng Xiu’s appetite was whetted by the fragrant aroma of the food. He still felt that he would have no contact with the Northern Kingdom’s envoys. After all, that was a job for the Ministry of Rites.