Chapter 0101 Unwillingness

Chapter 0101 Unwillingness

Stepping out of the King's tent, Qu Yunmie stood silently at the door for a moment. Then he suddenly raised his hand and threw the Snow-Drinking Vengeance Spear backward.

Not long ago, General Yu had experienced a tragic incident, and no one wanted to be struck by the Snow-Drinking Vengeance Spear before the big battle. The two guards behind him scrambled to catch it, barely managing to hold the spear together and stand it on its shaft. They secretly wiped the sweat from their foreheads, but when they looked up again, the King was already gone...

Mi Jing sat in his own tent, twirling prayer beads in his hands while pondering his next move.

In the past, he had always contacted the leaders of these countries under his personal name, but this time, he appeared as an envoy of the Northern Pacification Army. It wouldn't take long for everyone to know about this. Once his identity became less simple, their attitudes toward him would inevitably change.

After realizing that the pure is not always pure and the clean is not always clean, some people were bound to be disappointed in him, while others would seek to extract greater value from him.

It was getting harder...

But also more interesting.

Mi Jing closed his eyes and smiled silently.

At this moment, Mi Jing suddenly felt a sense of relief. If there was one lesson he learned from the Xianbei people, it was that one must save oneself before saving others, and save one's country before saving the world. Only when one and one's nation become strong and invulnerable can they have the power to change the fates of others.

Xiao Rong had always admired how well Mi Jing knew these kings and queens, but he didn't realize that these relationships weren't given freely. Mi Jing had to fight for them, seeking audiences with these rulers until they granted him a chance. Only then did they fall for his personal charm. Everything works this way: even the best wine needs to be brought forward in turbulent times. One must humble oneself to accumulate layers of connections and capital quickly.

Since receiving the great precepts, Mi Jing's mind had never relaxed. But he wasn't a masochist; if given the chance, he too wanted to be at ease, like tonight, enjoying this victory and leaving the rest of the problems for tomorrow.

He closed his eyes completely, and the speed of the prayer beads in his hands slowed down. Just as he was about to fully relax, swish!

An unwelcome visitor lifted his tent flap.

Mi Jing: "…………"

Forget it, he was born to work hard.*

Qu Yunmie didn't know why, but in his greatest anger, he didn't go to Yuan Baifu or Jian Qiao. After going through everyone in the camp in his mind, he found that among all these people, Mi Jing was the most suitable to listen to his complaints. ...

A moment later, Mi Jing listened numbly to Qu Yunmie's complaints.

"Though I don't know what kind of advice ordinary people receive before setting out on a campaign, I do know it's certainly not like what Xiao Rong gave me! The more I don't want to hear something, the more he insists on saying it. If he wants me to return victorious, couldn't he just say so? Why does he have to anger me!"

Mi Jing: "……"

He sighed inwardly before responding resignedly, "Perhaps because last time he said it directly, it didn't work, so this time he's trying a different approach."

Qu Yunmie: "……"

He looked at Mi Jing gloomily, "Every time you make sense, it makes me feel extremely uncomfortable."

Mi Jing nodded, "I know. Every time, the King shows his displeasure on his face."

Qu Yunmie: "……"

Taking a deep breath, Qu Yunmie's voice was no longer as impulsive as it had been at the start. He lowered his eyes and drew a deep breath: "This King is indeed a straightforward person. Xiao Rong knows me too well, which is why he acts so boldly. He knows that even if he angers This King, there's nothing I can do to him."

Mi Jing remained silent for a moment. He felt that Qu Yunmie's character couldn't be described simply as straightforward, but he didn't want to contradict him. He just continued nodding: "The King is right. Young Master Xiao has always had the King's best interests at heart."

Thinking that Qu Yunmie had calmed down, Mi Jing was surprised when, in the next second, Qu Yunmie burst out angrily again: "It's not that simple! In the past, he also had This King's best interests at heart, but he wouldn't have spoken to This King like this. Something has changed, but This King hasn't figured out what exactly."

Mi Jing suddenly raised his eyes, but Qu Yunmie didn't notice his gaze. He continued speaking to himself: "At first glance, it seems to have started when he arrived at the camp, but upon reflection, it seems to have begun back in Northern Yangzhou. Since returning from Jinling, Xiao Rong's temper has grown worse day by day, and he no longer respects This King as he used to. He—"

Pausing, Qu Yunmie's voice dropped significantly, as if he were deep in thought: "He treats me better, but also more strictly."

Whenever Qu Yunmie spoke, he would refer to himself as 'This King' only when he was about to lose his temper or become formal. Eventually, he would revert to using 'I.'

Through his self-references, one could gauge whether his words were sincere.

When he switched back to 'I,' Mi Jing's expression subtly changed. His hand holding the prayer beads stilled, and he stared intently at Qu Yunmie, waiting for some outcome that no one else could discern.

After a brief contemplation, Qu Yunmie somehow recalled the dance under the moonlight. The man who had been so righteous and angry suddenly lost his confidence, and he whispered: "In the end, it was I who betrayed his feelings..."

Mi Jing: "…………"

He looked at Qu Yunmie with a sense of helplessness. Although he didn't know what had happened between Qu Yunmie and Xiao Rong, based on his observations over the past few days, their interpretations were entirely different. Hmm...

Actually, maybe not. He had initially thought that Xiao Rong was the one who remained detached and clear-headed, but recent events showed that wasn't entirely true. These two were becoming more and more alike.

Mi Jing suddenly felt a bit desperate. As the only outsider in the camp, why did he have to bear so much?...……

Not dwelling on the past was one of Qu Yunmie's few virtues. Since the past cannot be changed, he chose to focus on the present and future.

After his contemplation, Qu Yunmie suddenly looked at Mi Jing and smiled: "On the eve of our departure two months ago, This King had a late-night conversation with the Bodhisattva. I never expected that scene to repeat itself after two months."

Mi Jing also smiled: "To be able to alleviate the King's worries is an honor for Mi Jing."

Qu Yunmie shook his head: "It's not alleviation; it's just that This King knows the Bodhisattva is different from others. What This King says to the Bodhisattva will not be shared with anyone else."

Mi Jing bowed his head: "Thank you for your trust, Your Majesty."

Even though you've trusted the wrong person.……

If unnecessary, Mi Jing could take all these matters to his grave, but if necessary, he wouldn't hesitate for a second to reveal them to those he deemed should know.

Fortunately, Qu Yunmie was lucky tonight. Mi Jing deeply believed that these words should not be told to Xiao Rong or anyone else. Some things, even if known, should not be interfered with. With Xiao Rong's determination and Qu Yunmie's concern for him, Mi Jing didn't think their issues would affect the course of the world, unless they reached a point of no return. But... facing reality, that was impossible. No matter how their relationship changed, such a situation would not arise.

From any perspective, their goals were aligned. Qu Yunmie couldn't threaten Xiao Rong, and Xiao Rong wouldn't stand against Qu Yunmie over trivial matters. Therefore, their issues affected only them. Since it had nothing to do with the world, why should Mi Jing interfere?

Beyond these rational thoughts, Mi Jing wondered whether he hoped they would remain in their current state of confusion forever or quickly realize their feelings and endure the pain they hadn't acknowledged yet.

Mi Jing: "……"

He didn't know. He was just a monk, why should he ponder the complexities of the mortal world. *

Early the next morning, the entire army assembled on the grasslands.

When they first left Yanmen County, Qu Yunmie, following Xiao Rong's instructions, had given every soldier a white cloth strip and delivered an impromptu speech. Xiao Rong hadn't seen it himself but learned from letters that the entire army was filled with fervor, eager to slay some Xianbei for morale.

This time, there were no more white strips to distribute. Xiao Rong had brought nothing but himself, yet he didn't need to worry about morale.

As he passed through the already gathered soldiers, he noticed many of them wearing cloth bands around their wrists—some white, some blue, and some black.

Some had washed and re-tied the strips Qu Yunmie had given them; others who had lost theirs had improvised with scraps. Still, others wore relics of fallen comrades.

One month into the campaign, the Northern Pacification Army had lost thirty thousand men, and the reinforcements had lost eight thousand. On average, one out of every ten soldiers now lay buried in this grassland.

Only the generals' bodies were sent back home; the rest were buried where they fell. In ancient battlefields, there were always pits holding the remains of thousands, even tens of thousands. Flowers bloomed year after year atop these bones, though it was unknown if the long-departed could still smell their fragrance.

Xiao Rong rode his horse to Qu Yunmie's side and asked, "Where did you bury the fallen soldiers?"

Qu Yunmie pointed in a direction behind them: "On the eastern slope of White Wolf Hill, near Canghe Pass. The ground is high there, and it's outside the pass, making it closer to home. They can continue watching over the grasslands and witness the fall of the Xianbei."

Xiao Rong turned back as well. His eyesight wasn't as sharp as Qu Yunmie's, and despite his efforts, he couldn't see Canghe Pass.

But he knew the place. Canghe Pass, like Shanhe Pass, had a slightly shorter history than Yanmen Pass, yet it was also a famous pass in Chinese history. Foreign invaders never ceased to threaten the Central Plains, and each pass held its own tragic and bloody tales. It wasn't an ideal resting place, but it was the most fitting for heroes. Above ground stretched the Great Wall for thousands of miles, while beneath lay the bones of countless martyrs, watching over future generations of soldiers as they charged forth to defend their homeland.

The Great Wall wasn't built by a single dynasty; it was constructed over many generations. Today, Canghe Pass wasn't part of the Great Wall; it naturally formed a pass due to its terrain.

Gazing at the distant horizon, Xiao Rong suddenly had an idea—he wanted to build a Great Wall too.

Build it further out, extending it to the edge of the desert.

But this wasn't something decided on a whim. At present, the map of the Central Plains was relatively small. Some dynasties had expanded it to twice its current size, but those rulers didn't do so because they lacked ambition; rather, the nomadic tribes of the grasslands were untrustworthy. If the grasslands were included, the Great Wall would only serve to guard against even more northern nations and tribes. These tribes, once harboring ill intentions, would be impossible for the Central Plains during weaker periods to resist.

Thus, to build a Great Wall, the mutual distrust between the grasslands and the Central Plains must first be resolved.

Xiao Rong lowered his eyelids, putting away all his thoughts. He could ponder these matters later; for now, he needed to send off the soldiers.

During the first expedition, Qu Yunmie had claimed an army of six hundred thousand. In reality, including logistics and servants brought by nobles, the number was closer to three hundred and sixty thousand, not even reaching four hundred thousand. With so many casualties, logically, the number should have been reduced, but he didn't. He still claimed an army of six hundred thousand.

If asked, he would boldly respond that Chenliu had sent reinforcements—a Xiao Rong and a Buddhist monk. These two alone were considered new troops.

Xiao Rong: "..."

Buddhist Monk: "..."

Do not look at this poor monk; in the King's heart, I am merely a thousand soldiers, not ten thousand horses.

After assembling, the three hundred thousand soldiers headed toward the battlefield, where the Xianbei had long been prepared. Their general sat on his horse, tightly gripping his saber. Xiao Rong accompanied them to the front lines but was heavily guarded. Nowadays, military advisors received such protection; the Xianbei might recognize him as an advisor but wouldn't identify anything else.

At this moment, Xiao Rong missed Song Shuo. If Song Shuo were here, he would have joined in the excitement instead of staying behind like the Buddhist monk, who, since he wasn't needed on the battlefield, preferred to remain in camp reciting scriptures and praying for the souls of the dead after the battle.

But having him there was beneficial. At least when he recited scriptures, the grieving soldiers found some solace.

In this situation, Xiao Rong wouldn't spoil the mood by thinking about whether this would increase the number of Buddhists in the Northern Pacification Army. Surviving was the most important thing; who cared what they believed in.

With no one to chat with and Yu Shaoxie having gone to escort Yu Shaocheng elsewhere, Xiao Rong barely knew these guards. He could only crane his neck and try hard to see how the Xianbei people dressed.

Xiao Rong had always thought the Xianbei were similar to the Qiang, sporting hairstyles that seemed bizarre to the people of the Central Plains. But this group of Xianbei didn't seem particularly outlandish, except for some Eastern Hu characteristics in their attire; their hairstyles were much like those of the people of the Central Plains.

This was still the era of the Murong clan, who admired Central Plain culture and had been learning from the first day they came to power how to integrate into the Central Plains. Of course, the next step after integration was to swallow up the Central Plains. ...But regardless, at least they looked more pleasant than the Yūwen clan. The Murong clan at least pretended to be civilized beasts, while the appearance of the Yūwen clan left the people of the Central Plains with only one thought: beasts.

Sweeping his gaze over the enemy troops, which were difficult to distinguish by ethnicity with Central Plain eyes, Xiao Rong looked towards the towering general at the forefront, wielding a giant longsword.

Xiao Rong silently blinked, feeling that the sword must be two meters long, with one meter being the blade and another meter the handle.

Long and heavy weapons always gave a strong sense of oppression. Qu Yunmie's Snow-Drinking Revenge Spear was such, and so was the general's saber.

So this was the Xianbei grand general, a Murong noble who had been raiding south since his teens. Not only was he skilled in combat, but he also had unexpectedly good luck. Xianbei nobles loved to fight on the front lines, leading to a higher casualty rate than among the nobles of the Central Plains. Everyone else died, but he survived—what else could it be but luck? ...

Xiao Rong glanced at his head, then lowered his eyes.

A bit too big, even less appealing. ...

No more shouting or speeches; both sides glared at each other for a while before Qu Yunmie and Murong Wei simultaneously issued orders to charge. Hooves trampled countless withered grasses, and the roar of hundreds of thousands formed an overwhelming wave.

The guards protected Xiao Rong as they retreated. At first, he could still see Qu Yunmie fighting alongside other soldiers, but later he saw nothing because Qu Yunmie had already led the troops forward.

Xiao Rong: "..." Liar.

On the first day, they advanced two miles, terrifying the Xianbei emperor so much that he almost agreed to the cowards' suggestion to flee.

On the second day, the Northern Pacification Army only advanced half a mile because Qu Yunmie was injured again. He fell off his horse, and everyone around him rushed to save him. The Xianbei could hear his agonized cries: "No, let go of me! I want to kill them all!!!"

But no one listened to him. With the Northern Pacification King injured again, the Northern Pacification Army had to sound the retreat. Hearing this news, the Xianbei's confidence soared.

It seemed that even if Qu Yunmie hadn't died, his combat strength had diminished significantly. Excellent, they still had a chance! ...

As the army moved forward, so did the camps. Xiao Rong sat by the stove, warming his hands. After they were warm, he lifted his eyes to look at Qu Yunmie.

The latter was sharpening his Chi Dragon Sword with swift strokes. During his feigned illness, he couldn't leave, so this was how he vented his energy.

Xiao Rong: "..."

Unfortunately, DNA testing wasn't possible in this era; otherwise, Xiao Rong would have found a way to draw a vial of Qu Yunmie's blood to see how much of his genetic sequence was still human.

Spending time with Qu Yunmie made Xiao Rong doubt himself. Though he had a well-proportioned and healthy body, compared to Qu Yunmie, he felt thin and frail.

When such doubts arose, Xiao Rong would look in the mirror, smiling slightly at his reflection. Yes, it was just a misunderstanding. ...

He said to Qu Yunmie, "The Kumo Xi kept their promise. There were no Kumo Xi among the enemy troops yesterday; they've all been reassigned to guard the front lines. I wonder how their general convinced the Xianbei to agree."

Qu Yunmie, indifferent, replied, "That's their business; it has nothing to do with the Northern Pacification Army." Xiao Rong looked at him and didn't mention the Kumo Xi again. "I heard that General Yuan was startled today. His horse's leg was cut by the enemy, but fortunately, he wasn't hurt."

Qu Yunmie continued to sharpen his sword, not looking up as he said, "Yuan Baifu has been acting strange these past few days."

Xiao Rong was taken aback. Before he could ask anything, Qu Yunmie had already stopped sharpening and raised his head with a frown. "He seems distracted by something. Being unable to focus on the battlefield is a death wish."

Xiao Rong: "…Do you talk like this in front of other generals too, The King? Have you heard of the phrase 'a heart of tofu hidden behind sharp words'?"

Qu Yunmie turned his head, blinking. "Tofu? You mean the recipe Yu Shaoxie brought back from Jinling? That soft white block that tastes like nothing?"

Xiao Rong nodded. "'A heart of tofu hidden behind sharp words' means someone who speaks harshly but has good intentions. Their words may hurt, but their heart doesn't intend to harm anyone."

Qu Yunmie was slightly stunned, pursing his lips as if understanding why Xiao Rong said that.

He spoke to Xiao Rong, "Ah Rong, you don't need to say such things about yourself. In my eyes, you're not one to speak with sharp words."

Xiao Rong: "…………"

He snapped, "I know I'm not! I'm saying you are!"

Qu Yunmie slowly processed this for a second before changing his tone, "You're not?! You should be grateful I can't show you my heart; otherwise, I'd hold it up to you and tell you when each hole appeared!"

Xiao Rong: "……"

After a while, Xiao Rong asked, "Would you bear a grudge against me?"

Qu Yunmie was still a bit angry, but he looked at Xiao Rong and reluctantly said, "If only I could bear a grudge."

Xiao Rong laughed, but then grew serious again. "That's the difference. Those whom you offend won't tolerate you as I do. Hearing such words would upset them, and they'd remember. You can't expect everyone to be so magnanimous."

Qu Yunmie only heard what he wanted to hear, so the key point became something else. He narrowed his eyes. "So you do realize how exceptionally tolerant I am with you."

Xiao Rong chuckled, unafraid of him, even looking a bit arrogant. "I'm smart, of course I know. After all, The King gave me the chance to offend you. Since there's no price to pay, why shouldn't I be bold?"

Qu Yunmie: "……"

He laughed in frustration. "You're truly candid. Dancing with wolves isn't a good habit; everyone knows wolves are ruthless."

Xiao Rong: "Indeed, dancing with wolves is dangerous, but aren't you The King? The King isn't a wolf and wouldn't turn against me."

Qu Yunmie looked at him, laughing ambiguously. "Are you so sure? Xiao Rong, do you remember what you told me at first? Human hearts are unpredictable."

Xiao Rong nodded. "I still believe human hearts are unpredictable, but you…"

He hesitated, then slowly closed his mouth, looking at Qu Yunmie, who also looked back at him.

Even Xiao Rong didn't know what he wanted to say next, but Qu Yunmie seemed to understand. Lowering his eyes, he didn't force Xiao Rong to finish. Picking up the Chi Long Sword, he placed it on the whetstone but paused before continuing. "If I return unscathed, could I get another gift?"

Xiao Rong glanced at the sword in his hand and reminded him, "Without a sword, there's no dancing."

Actually, any other unsharpened sword would work, but Xiao Rong held a grudge and didn't want to dance for Qu Yunmie just yet.

Qu Yunmie wasn't picky. "No problem, something else would be fine."

He waited for Xiao Rong's answer. Xiao Rong initially wanted to refuse, but looking into Qu Yunmie's eyes, he couldn't bring himself to say no.

He knew that if he refused, Qu Yunmie wouldn't insist, but this attitude made Xiao Rong soften.

Closing his eyes, he sighed, conceding, "Alright, if you return unscathed."

Qu Yunmie's eyes brightened, and he smiled, lowering his head to sharpen the blade more vigorously.

Xiao Rong watched him work, smiling silently.

So it wasn't just Qu Yunmie who had become more magnanimous; Xiao Rong had too.

When he used Qu Yunmie's kindness to push him into doing things he didn't want to, he didn't realize that both were being affected.

He was a bad person, but a bad person who sank deeper with every bad deed. If one day Qu Yunmie was pushed off a cliff, Xiao Rong would see not his fall but his arms opening wide to catch him.

Where does the road ahead lead? Rather than saying Xiao Rong didn't know, it was more accurate to say he didn't want to know. He preferred beautiful dreams but couldn't enjoy them, knowing they were just dreams. Once he realized it was a dream, he woke up.

So he really didn't want to know. It was better to keep guesses as guesses. But alas, the beauty of the dream lay in the presence of another person caring for him, tolerating him, loving him. He could deceive himself but not the other person.

Feeling frustrated, he reminded himself of what truly mattered after all his efforts and sacrifices.

Repeating this twice in his mind, Xiao Rong looked at Qu Yunmie again. The latter was carefully examining the marks on the Chi Long Sword before starting to sharpen the other side. Watching quietly for a moment, Xiao Rong turned and left.