81 Fake Surrender (1/2)

Meng Fuyao marched off with the bundle still in his hand, unhesitatingly nudging away a few Rong leaders who had stepped forward to stop her.

”Hold up!” Someone with a deep voice called out.

Meng Fuyao stopped, her back facing the people in the tent, and a slightly smug yet painful smile surfaced.

'I was right, you strong-fearing morons...'

Before her arrival, she had given it a long thought on whether she should continue enduring the humiliation and bowing down in order to gain the trust of the Rong Commander-in-Chief or bluffing her way through to subdue them. From her understanding of the Rongs' characteristics, she had ultimately chosen the latter method. Not giving them the chance to strategize was her strategy.

She had been proven right.

Behind her, Tutie Muer was no longer steadily seated. He brushed his sleeves and walked toward her. ”Please slow down, Mayor Meng, please slow down. They have been ignorant...”

Meng Fuyao ignored his words and continued making her exit.

”I like that you have come to surrender the city. Men, gather around. Let me introduce them to you, Mayor Meng...” Tutie Muer added, holding onto her arm, his attitude undergoing a 180-degree change.

He had studied her carefully. While the mayor was unexpectedly young, he was aggressive and brave and had a domineering aura. He was here to surrender but was not ready to be disregarded and mistreated. He flaunted his might and angered the Rong officers, who in turn failed to unnerve him. Furthermore, his every word displayed a strong understanding of the Rong army's position and situation. There was no need for him to bring the whole Yaocheng back to the kings; they would be pleased by this talent alone, and he himself would be given some credit.

Whether or not Meng Fuyao was fake-surrendering, he thought it through for only a second before dismissing it. There was no way he could be this guiltless and careless about dropping the deal if it were an act. From the multiple times he had interacted with Mayor Meng, he believed that he would only have to raise his guard if the latter were to act all humble and submissive.

”Mayor Meng,” he started politely, gesturing to lead the way. ”We were wrong. I'll make it up to you. Come, come...”

Meng Fuyao turned and raised her brows. ”You believe me now?”

Tutie Muer let out an awkward laugh. ”Naturally, naturally!”

Meng Fuyao unwrapped the bundle slowly and retrieved the official stamp. She weighed it in her hand before handing it over to Tutie Muer. Smiling, she replied, ”Since that's the case, please show this to your men, in case anyone thinks it's bogus.”

”How can that be?” Tutie Muer received it, continuing, ”But since you've mentioned... Come here, you fools! Come vouch for her sincerity.”

The stamp circulated within the officers as Meng Fuyao cupped her hands together and waited in the darkness, a faint smile emerging on her face.

Some officers really took a good look at the stamp while others simply eyed it once before tossing it to the next person. Some could even be heard murmuring, ”The Han barbarians are all soft eggs.”

Meng Fuyao cast him a glance, responding with a smile, ”You probably won't get to see the heroic side of the Hansmen anyway.”

When the stamp reached the corner, the man who had looked at her earlier paused. Meng Fuyao's eyes wandered ambiguously toward him before she retracted them the next moment.

”I've already expressed my sincerity, Chief,” Meng Fuyao stated after a round of inspection. ”Shouldn't it be your turn now?”

Tutie Muer hesitated before waving, ”Men, prepare the tools.”

Chinaware with clear water in it and two daggers on the side was prepared.

Meng Fuyao appeared emotionless.

The oath of alliance required not blood from the finger but from the chest, as an expression of determination.

Trays were served, and Meng Fuyao took a step forward. According to the rules, Tutie Muer should now stand beside her, shoulder to shoulder. After a short hesitation, he stood a step behind her and two guards quickly followed.

Meng Fuyao did mind him at all. As if there were no onlookers, she grabbed the dagger, pierced her chest, extracting beads of fresh blood and dripping them into the clear water.

As the blood spread within the water, she retreated with a smile, leaving Tutie Muer's side.

Tutie Muer exhaled a sigh of relief, stepped forward and went through the same procedure.

At the moment his dagger was about to reach his skin, Meng Fuyao's hand appeared.

She had clearly been at least an arm's length away from Tutie Muer, blocked by his guards, but somehow with a snap, her arm seemed to have extended a section.

She grabbed Tutie Muer's dagger-holding hand in an instant.

The dagger that was supposed to graze the chest lightly entered soundlessly, and blood splattered.

Tutie Muer let out a sky-shattering howl, almost causing the tent to collapse.

Meng Fuyao did not let go of her hand. She continued smiling coldly before twisting the dagger.

Everyone present could hear the crushing of bones at that moment.