Chapter 96 Royal Identity

Chapter 96: Royal Identity

Liu Yuenu had privately concealed the princess-consort, an unforgivable crime. Lu Feng initially intended to execute her to settle the matter once and for all. However, Jiang Wanrou pleaded both openly and in private for leniency on Liu Yuenu's behalf, arguing that she was young and acted without thorough consideration. Moreover, during their time stranded in enemy lands, it was thanks to Liu Yuenu’s care that Jiang Wanrou had survived—otherwise, she would still be trapped in enemy territory, never reuniting with her husband.

Liu Yuenu was her "little sister," though this bond existed only because of her elder sister’s status. Regardless of intent, Jiang Wanrou had indeed received Liu Yuenu’s kindness for a long time.

When Lu Feng found Jiang Wanrou that day, a stray arrow struck the horse beneath her, sending her tumbling to the ground. In that critical moment, Liu Yuenu threw herself in front of her, dislocating her elbow—something Lu Feng witnessed firsthand. Considering Liu Yuenu’s longing for her sister and her past military merits, Lu Feng spared her life.

Though death was avoided, punishment was inevitable. As an officially appointed General of Bright Might, Liu Yuenu had abandoned her post for over a month. Lu Feng sentenced her to eighty military floggings—the harshest penalty in the army. Even a strapping soldier would be left dead or crippled after such a beating.

Whether Lu Feng harbored personal bias was unknown to outsiders. Jiang Wanrou once subtly inquired about Liu Yuenu’s condition, to which Lu Feng replied, "I won’t kill her. The state has its laws, the army its rules—she will be dealt with accordingly."

His words silenced Jiang Wanrou. In matters of principle, even if Liu Yuenu were her blood sister, she couldn’t plead for leniency without risking the label of a scheming beauty who corrupted the nation. Clearly, Lu Feng was not a man easily swayed by feminine charms.

Thus, Liu Yuenu endured the eighty lashes. The canes used for flogging were thick and unrelenting. Even Ling Xiao, a man of towering stature, had needed days of bed rest after fifty lashes. For a woman like Liu Yuenu, by the end, she was barely breathing.

Fortunately, Lu Feng separated personal grudges from duty. The punishment was meted out, three years’ salary was withheld, and the matter was settled. She remained "General Liu," and no one was forbidden from tending to her wounds. Yet Lu Feng’s displeasure was so evident that his subordinates followed suit—no military doctor dared risk involvement.

After all, Lu Feng’s "reputation" was formidable—enough to terrify enemies and unsettle his own men.

Just as Liu Yuenu hovered near death, the "women" she had once taken in came to her rescue.

Amidst the chaos of war, these women were either impoverished girls sold into servitude or orphaned daughters of ruined families—each with some measure of beauty. Liu Yuenu had housed and fed them well, requiring no labor, not even singing or dancing—just sitting still for her to admire and reminisce.

This was far better than serving brutal men. General Liu was generous, never resorting to abuse. If other officers eyed them, she would stand up for them. Now, the women tended to the unconscious general day and night, selling their gold jewelry to bribe for her treatment. Money could make the devil dance—somehow, they kept her alive.

Liu Yuenu cared little for fine food or lavish attire—her entire salary had gone to supporting these women, leaving her practically penniless. Medicine, tonics, and winter firewood all cost money. In her absence, the women had already been living hand-to-mouth in fear. Now, with even their jewelry sold, they were desperate for funds. One keen-eyed woman noticed a dark green *xiuyu* jade pendant hanging around Liu Yuenu’s neck.

The circular jade was carved with a wolf’s head encircled by intertwined vine motifs—an uncommon design, but exquisitely crafted, and the jade itself was of fine quality. Survival came first. The women agreed to sell the jade and await Liu Yuenu’s recovery for further decisions.

A group of vulnerable women dared not venture out themselves, so they entrusted intermediaries. The more hands it passed through, the higher the chance someone would recognize its value—and someone did.

Anyone who had fought the Turkic head-on knew: the wolf’s head wreathed in intertwining vines was their banner.

A low-ranking officer immediately reported it. Within half a day, the pendant reached Lu Feng’s hands. Running his thumb over the jade, he immediately summoned Ling Xiao.

Just who was Liu Yuenu, to possess a token of the Turkic royalty?

...

Ling Xiao was drenched in cold sweat under questioning. Liu Yuenu had once claimed her parents were dead, her kin all gone. Before he could investigate further, war had erupted. Could she be a Turkic spy?

Yet on the battlefield, she had slain enemies more fiercely than even the people of Great Qi. How could she be tied to the Turkic royalty?

Fortunately, at this moment, Liu Yuenu awoke.

Pale-faced, she could barely stand even with support. Yet facing the intimidating men before her, she showed no trace of fear.

"I have never betrayed the people of Great Qi," she declared.

Lu Feng’s desk held records of Liu Yuenu’s actions since entering Great Qi. Toying with the jade pendant, he asked, "Is this yours?"

Liu Yuenu answered frankly, "Yes."

"You are of royal blood."

Liu Yuenu paused, her voice faltering slightly.

"I don’t know," she muttered.

The Turkic royal family was fragmented, unlike Great Qi, which had the Imperial Household Department. Anyone surnamed "Qi," even if they were just a distant poor relative of the emperor, would rise in status, dragging even their dogs and chickens up with them, becoming imperial relatives who didn’t have to lift a finger—they were supported by the Imperial Household Department.

The steppe was home to nomadic tribes, constantly migrating, without strong ancestral ties. By Liu Yuenu’s generation, her Turkic father had fallen so low that all he had left was the surname "Ashina." She killed him and fled from Turkic, leaving not a trace behind.

The jade pendant she wore was her father’s treasure. That washed-up martial artist often held her hand and told her of their family’s former glory. Ironically, the son he’d spent his life praying for never materialized—only this daughter, born to a woman he had seized from the Qi Dynasty, who outshot, outrode, and outfought everyone.

Liu Yuenu had never considered herself Turkic, let alone a member of the royal family. She’d all but forgotten this herself. This jade pendant was the only valuable thing left in the house. Even when reduced to selling his daughters, the old fool wouldn’t barter it for a meal. Back then, she was too young and could only watch helplessly as a merchant from Great Qi traded a sack of rice for her elder sister. By the time she had the strength, she burned down what was once her home, leaving only this jade pendant—deceptively valuable—behind.

Turks scorned her; the people of Qi feared her. What did the conflicts between the two nations have to do with her? Even staying in the Qi Dynasty as the "Mingwei General" was not by choice, but because of her agreement with Ling Xiao.

Lu Feng pondered for a moment before asking again, "What is your real name?"

She had been living under her sister’s name. She should have had a Turkic name.

Liu Yuenu spat out a name, tongue-tripping and foreign. Having dealt with Turkic for years, Lu Feng understood immediately.

Lu Feng’s face gave nothing away, showing neither anger nor joy. Ling Xiao had already dropped to one knee, clasping his fists. "This general begs punishment for his failure."

Recruiting a woman was one thing, but this woman had nearly abducted the princess consort and was of Turkic royal blood. Even if she was just a fallen branch of the family, it’d be a joke told for generations.

Lu Feng ignored Ling Xiao. Lightly tapping the table, he said to Liu Yuenu, "Do you know the princess consort thinks of you every day and has begged for your mercy over and over?"

Liu Yuenu froze, her cold expression softening slightly.

In a low voice, she said, "I’ve wronged her."

Her Wanrou-jie… She knew she wanted to return to Great Qi. Yet she tirelessly reminded her to dress warmly in the cold, carefully dressed her wounds, fastened her cloak and hat, held her in her soft, fragrant embrace, and sang childhood lullabies to her. She couldn’t let go.

She thought Wanrou would despise her, the "bandit" who had abducted her, yet she had pleaded for her… At this moment, Liu Yuenu’s heart ached with tenderness and fulfillment.

In truth, Jiang Wanrou didn’t resemble her elder sister at all. Her sister had been delicate and frail, while Jiang Wanrou was clearly a porcelain princess reared in silk and gold. The longer Liu Yuenu spent with her, the clearer it became—she wasn’t her sister.

But she was so good to her, so gentle. Liu Yuenu wanted her to be her sister.

Lu Feng gave a derisive snort. "At least you have some self-awareness."

He disliked Jiang Wanrou’s attention being on others. First, there was Pei Zhang, and now Liu Yuenu. Even if it was just a woman, it burned him up.

And that wasn’t even mentioning Liu Yuenu’s reputation! When he first learned that Liu Yuenu had hidden Jiang Wanrou and was "suspected" of having a fondness for beautiful women, Lu Feng splintered the vermilion brush between his fingers.

Liu Yuenu, her face bloodless, protested, "I’ve been completely honest with her. I swear on my life, I’ve never deceived her."

Just as Jiang Wanrou had once asked her name, she had answered without hesitation—not because she thought Jiang Wanrou wouldn’t understand, but because she wanted to tell her.

Jiang Wanrou had found the name familiar because Lu Feng had mentioned these surnames in front of her before. But she didn’t understand Turkic and simply assumed their names sounded alike, never digging further.

Now, with Jiang Wanrou absent, she couldn’t hear Liu Yuenu’s heartfelt confession. Lu Feng’s expression shifted several times. Even Ling Xiao thought he would order Liu Yuenu’s execution. But with a dark face, Lu Feng stormed out of the tent.

He left behind a single command: "Rest well."

Ling Xiao and Liu Yuenu exchanged glances, both seeing confusion in the other’s eyes.

That very night, Lu Feng convened another council, deciding to hold their position for now and summon Turkic envoys for negotiations.

Currently, the Qi Dynasty’s forces held the advantage, and it was Turkic who was falling over themselves to comply. Their royal court was prepared to cede territory and pay reparations. But Lu Feng’s demands were exorbitant: first, the vast northern grasslands, rich in water and grass and adjacent to key trade routes, then fifteen cities—including three copper mines and two iron mines. He demanded an annual tribute of 100,000 heads of cattle and sheep, and one million taels of pure gold.

Additionally, they were to present 50,000 fine horses—steeds of exceptional endurance, capable of galloping a thousand li. Beyond that, they were to hand over the rebel Chen Fu and have Modu personally journey to Qi, kneel in submission to the Celestial Empire, and submit in apology.

His demands were far too excessive, exceeding the Turkic's expectations by a wide margin. Though it was common to seek peace after defeat in war, none had ever been as harsh as Lu Feng, cutting them off at the knees. Moreover, he demanded that Khan Modu kneel and pledge allegiance to their emperor—For proud steppe warriors, this humiliation was worse than slitting their own throats to preserve their honor.

Lu Feng’s outrageous demands felt less like real negotiation and more like flexing. Yet, in the past, he hadn’t even glanced at Turkic peace proposals. Now, he was willing to sit down and lay out his terms point by point, which was downright generous for him.

The Turkic envoys all turned ashen-faced. Lu Feng’s expression was icy, his tone brooking no argument: "Agree, and Turkic shall henceforth become a vassal state of Great Qi. Our dynasty will follow precedent, ensuring your peace as if we were brothers. But if you refuse..."

He gave a cold laugh. "Great Qi’s iron cavalry is already poised, ready to trample every inch of your land, leaving nothing but ashes. By then, what I demand will far surpass mere cities and gold. The Turkic people will be ground into dust beneath our hooves, never to rise again! Think real hard."

His presence carried the authority of one long accustomed to power, mingled with the stench of blood from a thousand battles. This prince of Qi had once slain several Turkic envoys seeking peace. Now, they knelt, trembling, not daring to utter a word.

When the envoys returned, they wailed, "The heavens want us dead!"

The emperor of Great Qi had many sons, yet even one prince could pack this much punch. The might of Great Qi had been sorely underestimated!

Lu Feng’s demands were take-it-or-leave-it, but he granted them ample time—fifteen full days—to deliberate.

Fifteen days was neither long nor short. With the finest wound medicine, Liu Yuenu could now walk again. Surprisingly, Lu Feng—normally a stingy bastard—allowed her to meet Jiang Wanrou, even permitting them to address each other as sisters. Only then did Jiang Wanrou learn that Liu Yuenu had endured eighty military lashes. Heartbroken and guilt-ridden, she fed her medicine, wiped her face, and tended to her daily.

Liu Yuenu had no time to ponder Lu Feng’s motives, blissed out in her Sis’s arms, unwilling to return to reality.

The Qi army rested and recuperated in Wujin, while the Turkic court was in an uproar. Modu, newly enthroned, had an unstable foundation—precisely why he had sought war with Qi, only to bring calamity upon his people. Now, Turkic was divided into three factions: the war faction led by Modu, who believed real steppe men would rather die on their feet than accept the shame of surrender; the peace faction, who argued better to bend than break; and the largest group—the fence-sitters, torn between the futility of war and the ruinous terms of peace.

As the deadline neared, Great Qi suddenly sent an envoy with a new proposal: the previous demands were just to see if Turkic was serious. Now, they were willing to halve the annual tribute and negotiate other terms—on one condition: they must replace their Khan.

In the Qi camp, Liu Yuenu was bundled like a burrito, a damp cloth on her brow. As she tried to rise, Jiang Wanrou stopped her.

***

"Don’t move—"

She hurried over, removed the cloth, and gently touched Liu Yuenu’s forehead.

Her voice was soft. "You still have a fever. The cool cloth will help."

Liu Yuenu dropped her gaze. She had long recovered but couldn’t bear to part with her Sis. A few nights ago, she’d left the tent flap loose, letting herself catch a ‘convenient’ chill until she caught a "minor cold."

Liu Yuenu murmured, "I don’t want this. I want Sis to stay with me."

Jiang Wanrou had been cooling her medicine. With a fond eye-roll, she said, "Alright, alright. Let’s drink the medicine first. I’ll feed you."

Wujin was now fully occupied by Qi troops, but after the incident at Weicheng, Lu Feng forbade Jiang Wanrou from leaving unsupervised. To care for Liu Yuenu, she had wheedled him relentlessly, even promising to give up their nights together before he relented and allowed her to accompany him to camp.

Unaware of the sacrifices her Sis had made to visit her, Liu Yuenu blushed faintly and dipped her head shyly.

Accustomed to caring for the frail Lu Huaiyi, Jiang Wanrou cradled Liu Yuenu’s face against her chest as she fed her the medicine—blowing on each spoonful like it was scalding, followed by a sweet preserved fruit.

Between sips, she praised, "Attagirl!"

At first, Liu Yuenu was unaccustomed to such treatment—she’d normally gulp down the bitter brew in one go. But soon, she grew fond of nestling in her warmth, refusing to leave.

Sunk into her warmth, listening to her cooing as if to a child, Liu Yuenu’s ears burned red.

"I-It’s nothing, really. Just a bowl of medicine."

As if she’d accomplished some great feat.

Jiang Wanrou wiped the traces of medicine from her lips and said gently, "But it’s so bitter. I’ve drunk bitter medicine for years—it’s pure torture."

Liu Yuenu's gaze paused as she asked, "Many years? Does Sis have a chronic condition?"

Jiang Wanrou was referring to the time Lu Feng coaxed her into drinking contraceptive brew—back then, she had felt utterly wronged, but now, looking back, it didn’t seem like a big deal, even somewhat amusing. Seeing Liu Yuenu as no outsider, she shared it in a teasing tone. Just then, the tent flap was abruptly thrown open, and heavy military boots thudded against the ground—it was Lu Feng.

His cold eyes swept over the two, his brow deeply furrowed. "This clinging and grabbing—what kind of behavior is this!"

Jiang Wanrou was startled. She knew her boundaries well, returning to Lu Feng when appropriate. This was the first time he had come to Liu Yuenu’s tent to fetch her.

*She’s sick, and I’m feeding Sis medicine. What’s improper about that?* Just as Jiang Wanrou was about to explain, Liu Yuenu tugged at her sleeve and whispered, "Sis, I’m cold."

Jiang Wanrou’s heart instantly softened. She bent down to tuck the blanket more snugly around her. Lu Feng couldn’t stand this. With a cold glare, he pulled them apart. Meeting Jiang Wanrou’s innocent, watery eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to scold her. Instead, he turned to Liu Yuenu, who was playing pitiful on the bed.

"If you’re cold now, what will you do when you return to the Turkic territory?"

Liu Yuenu stiffened. "I’m not going back to the Turkic territory."

*Sis is definitely in Great Qi. I want to stay with Sis.*

Lu Feng suddenly grinned, a ruthless edge to his smile. "That’s not up to you."

"Today, the Turkic people sent a letter of surrender, proposing to crown you as the new Khan."

At these words, both Jiang Wanrou and Liu Yuenu were stunned. Liu Yuenu no longer felt cold—she shot upright, her phoenix eyes filled with utter confusion and shock.

"A new Khan?"

"Me?"