73 A Brilliant Idea (1/2)
Xiao Dao recalled when Meng Fuyao had held her cold hands outside of Deepspring Brothel. She also remembered when Meng Fuyao would cover her up at night and apply medication on the wounds that were inflicted by the brothel keeper. In contrast, the man in a white robe would look at her in a way that made her uncomfortable. She couldn't understand it, but her instincts had helped her distinguish between kindness and hostility.
And this man here was probably Meng Fuyao's love interest. The latter often avoided looking at him, but when they did exchange glances, it was similar to those shared between her own parents.
Xiao Dao bit her lips, thinking about her mother, who had to work barefooted in the winter months. She also thought about the barren land on which her tribesmen were residing, and how no one had been able to fill their tummy.
If not for that, would she have been stolen by the greedy man who then child-trafficked her and sold her into such a dirty place?
Her heart hardened again.
”I'll kill you,” she declared calmly, each syllabus sounding like a nail. She tried hard to recall the words of the brave soldiers on the grassland, ”If you're afraid, you can kill me now.”
Meng Fuyao burst into laughter.
While angry over Xiao Dao's naivety, Meng Fuyao simply couldn't pull a black face in response to her willful expression. Seeing this girl make such an adult-like vow reminded Meng Fuyao of her own stubbornness. She had, too, ever run to the end of a deep valley in Taiyuan and shouted to the heavens, ”I'm going to return one day! Take me again if you dare!”
Her eyes turned moist suddenly upon recalling the dreams of her youth, the mutability of fate, and the determined vow she had made despite being uncertain about whether it was worth it.
Yuan Zhaoxu was smiling slightly as well. He walked over suddenly and untied a jade tablet, handing it over to Xiao Dao.
”I do not sympathize with your father's plight. A true leader is one that is able to protect himself and his people – someone he isn't. Dao Naier, do you think you can become the real king of the northern and southern Rong tribe and seize the land that rightfully belongs to your father?”
Dao Naier grasped the jade tablet tightly, looking him straight in the eye and shouted, ”I can!”
”Very good.” Yuan Zhaoxu smiled. ”The Rong tribes will be unified, and having a female king isn't such a bad thing. Before that, though, you're only Dao Naier, the daughter of an exiled king. You have to restart in order to get what you want.”
”I can wait!”
”Those with patience will eventually succeed,” Yuan Zhaoxu advised meaningfully, his smile akin to the flowing clouds above the horizon. ”When that time comes and you, Dao Naier, still want to kill me, bring your unified army here. Till then, you're not yet fit to challenge me to a battle.”
”I will find you.”
...
In Wuji, on the 11th year under King De's reign, which was on the 8th of December. It was the first time that the allied army had experienced such a huge loss since the start of the war – their main tent was burnt, and the 3,000 soldiers had disappeared mysteriously. 3,000 lives had burst like a bubble, completely and soundlessly lost to the ocean without even the slightest ripple; it was as if 3,000 men weren't significant enough to fill a vast public square, but they were just petals of a flower that had simply withered.
That night where the Rongs worshiped their God was also the night that the citizens hadn't gotten their God's blessings and protection.
This war came to be the subject of intensive analysis for future historians and military scientists, but none were able to unravel the marvel within it. If they had known that the disappearance of 3,000 men was due to one man, perhaps they wouldn't have needed to label it as a miracle despite racking their brains for a long time.
Some people did not believe in miracles, because they themselves were the creators of miracles.
What the mortals were unaware of was that on that day, the future ruler of the grassland, with her endless courage and determination, would receive a real crown from a real king.
History rushed forward, and those destined to leave their trace went on their individual journeys.
...
Meng Fuyao had been leading good days.
Ever since her Emotion Lock had relapsed, she had been ordered by Yuan Zhaoxu to recuperate. Amid her recuperation, she was pleasantly surprised to find that there was something in the poison that was actually strengthening her endurance whenever her channels got attacked by it. While she was recovering slowly, it was much more substantial.