The atmosphere inside the command tent underwent a subtle yet sharp shift the moment Hou Xia’s envoy was introduced.
The charcoal fire still burned, and the aroma of medicine and ink still wafted through the air, but an invisible tension belonging to the arena of diplomacy and strategic maneuvering quietly replaced the somber atmosphere of the previous military conference.
The envoy, Wuzhu, was a middle-aged civil official of about forty years old, with a sharp and wiry face, high cheekbones, deep-set eyes, and a gaze as sharp as an eagle’s.
He wore the right-fastening brocade robe unique to the Houxia nobility.
He was led into the tent by two personal guards.
The deliberately maintained polite expression on his face could barely contain the humiliation and burning anger that had been churning within him for more than a month.
After giving a perfunctory bow to Feng Qinghe, who was seated at the head of the table, he could no longer contain himself.
His voice, shrill and even slightly cracked, came from the intense agitation he was trying to suppress: “Commander Feng!
I, Hou Xia, have come to pay my respects daily with the utmost sincerity, solely to discuss the ransom of General Xia Jiyuan of our nation!
But what have you done?
Time and again, you have used the excuse that your esteemed envoy has not yet arrived and you dare not act on your own initiative, leaving us stranded at the post station and refusing to see you!
May I ask, Commander Feng, is this the way of hospitality of the great Zhou Dynasty?
Is this the rule that commands your authority in the northern frontier?
Such behavior is domineering and unreasonable, disregarding the basic etiquette of diplomatic relations between two nations.
How can this be the conduct of a dignified military commander and a high-ranking official on the frontier?!” He spoke very quickly, as if he wanted to vent the anger that had been building up for days.
His chest heaved violently with each word, and his fingers unconsciously clenched his sleeves, revealing the veins on the back of his hands.
Seated regally in the main seat, Feng Qinghe listened quietly to the barbed and accusatory words.
Far from being angry, she didn’t even furrow her brow.
Instead, the moment Wuzhu finished speaking, her eyes widened slightly, and a mixture of surprise, astonishment, and deep grievance quickly appeared on her face.
Feng Qinghe, somewhat “out of line,” lightly tapped the sandalwood table in front of her, making a soft “snap,” and then spoke in a tone full of grievance and eagerness to defend herself: “Oh dear!
Envoy Wuzhu, what you say is truly…
truly a grave injustice to this commander!” Her tone was extremely earnest, as if she had suffered a great injustice.
Her eyes were clear as she looked at Wuzhu, with a hint of helplessness.
“Some time ago, it was indeed true that our imperial envoy, Zhang, did not arrive!
You think, what kind of person is General Xia?
This is a matter of great importance concerning the negotiations between our two countries and the stability of our borders.
This commander is merely a border general, responsible for guarding our territory.
How dare I overstep my bounds and presume to discuss such important matters with your country?
This is a matter of national etiquette and custom.
This commander has always been cautious and prudent and dares not overstep it in the slightest.” As Feng Qinghe spoke, she stood up from behind the desk, her face bearing the expression of “I must make things clear with you today; otherwise, I won’t be able to clear my name even if I jump into the Yellow River.” She beckoned to Wuzhu and said sincerely, “If Envoy Wuzhu doesn’t believe me and thinks that I’m making empty promises and neglecting General Xia…
come, come, come and see for yourself how I ‘entertained’ and ‘settled’ General Xia!
Seeing is believing!” Wuzhu listened to Feng Qinghe’s words and felt as if his anger had hit a wad of cotton.
He was speechless for a moment and did not know how to continue his rebuke.
He was full of doubts and uncertainties.
While he was stunned, Feng Qinghe did not give him a chance to think.
She turned around first and walked briskly towards the entrance of the commander’s tent.
Wuzhu had no choice but to suppress his chaotic thoughts and, with doubt and vigilance, quickly followed.
Feng Qinghe walked to the tent entrance and personally lifted the thick, windproof felt curtain.
Instantly, bright but not glaring sunlight poured in from outside, bringing with it cool, fresh air that dispelled some of the lingering medicinal smell inside the tent.
“Envoy, please look.” Feng Qinghe stepped aside, giving way to her view, her tone calm, even carrying a hint of casualness, as if she were showing off the scenery of her own backyard.
Wuzhu looked in the direction she indicated.
Not far away, at the edge of a relatively open training ground, a figure was walking slowly with his hands behind his back.
The man wore a clean, dark blue robe, not prison attire, and was unshackled.
His hair was neatly combed.
Judging from his figure and gait, it was none other than the captured General Xia Jiyuan.
He appeared calm, occasionally pausing as if observing the soldiers’ daily drills in the distance, and sometimes looking up at the sky, displaying a leisurely and carefree demeanor.
What made Wuzhu’s pupils shrink even more, almost unable to believe his eyes, was that occasionally, when Great Zhou soldiers passed by in formation, they would stop, clasp their hands, and bow slightly, offering a simple salute, seemingly respectfully addressing him as “General Xia.” Xia Jiyuan would merely nod slightly in return.
The interaction between them was natural, and the atmosphere… could even be described as a strange kind of “harmony”!
This…this doesn’t look like a defeated and captured general in the enemy camp at all!
This clearly looks like a friendly commander who has come to inspect or visit!
If Wuzhu hadn’t known the inside story, he would almost have thought that this scene was a harmonious scene of friendly exchanges between the two countries!
Wuzhu stared in disbelief, his mouth involuntarily agape.
All the rebukes he had prepared beforehand, all the bargaining chips he had set up based on the claim that “General Xia was being mistreated,” were now stuck in his throat, unable to utter a single word.
The scene before him was completely beyond his expectations, like a silent blow that left him dizzy.
Feng Qinghe took in every look of shock and astonishment on his face, then lowered the tent curtain to block out the outside world.
Feng Qinghe turned around and faced Wuzhu, who was still in shock.
She suddenly sighed softly.
This sigh was completely different from her passionate outburst earlier.
It was full of dejection and even mixed with a bit of annoyance and disdain, like that of a shrewd merchant who had made a seemingly profitable but actually troublesome deal.
“Alas, Envoy Wuzhu, you have seen it too.” She spread her hands, her tone quite helpless.
“General Xia is staying in a clean tent that I prepared separately.
He has three meals a day, with wine and meat.
Although it cannot compare to the delicacies of your royal court, he is certainly not hungry or cold.
As for his movements, as long as he does not leave the camp and does not involve military secrets, he is quite free.
Apart from not being able to return to Houxia for the time being, tell me, how different is this treatment from being a general in my Great Zhou?
I respect him as a true man and a worthy opponent, so I treat him with courtesy and have never humiliated him in the slightest.” She paused, then abruptly changed the subject, her tone becoming lighter yet carrying a casualness that made one’s heart tighten.
She even waved her hand, as if she were talking about a trivial business deal she wanted to get rid of quickly: “However, to be honest, I also feel that this matter has been handled… tsk, a bit boring.
You see,” she took a small step forward, lowered her voice, as if to share some heartfelt secret, but her clear eyes were fixed on Wuzhu, “that newly promoted General Wang Tong from your Houxia side, hasn’t he been doing quite well lately, hasn’t he?” Wuzhu’s Adam’s apple bobbed involuntarily, and a chill crept up his spine.
Feng Qinghe seemed oblivious to his momentary stiffness, continuing in a casual, even somewhat considerate tone, “This commander is extremely considerate and understands your country’s difficulties.
If you feel this ‘deal’ of redeeming General Xia is a loss, then so be it; we won’t force you.” Her tone was relaxed, as if she were discussing an object that could be disposed of at will.
“Anyway, Houxia is a vast and resource-rich land, teeming with talented individuals.
There are countless brave warriors, like stars on the grasslands.
I suppose…
one more General Xia won’t make a difference, will it?” She smiled, a smile that, in Wuzhu’s eyes, was colder than the wind outside the tent: “Anyway, while other things may be scarce here, I always have some provisions.
Keeping General Xia here is just an extra bowl and chopsticks; it’s not a mistreatment.
However,” she subtly changed the subject again, “General Xia is here, receiving our ‘hospitality’ every day, occasionally sparring with the soldiers in the camp, and discussing military strategy.
The longer this goes on, the more naturally a bond will develop.
I’m just a little curious—can General Xia’s deep affection and attachment to his homeland withstand the daily, ‘homely’ hospitality and the erosion of this ‘friendship through martial arts and mutual appreciation’?” Feng Qinghe deliberately spoke lightly, as if she were only discussing a trivial matter of human relationships, but to Wuzhu, it was like a thunderclap, exploding deep in his mind!
He was instantly jolted awake from the astonishment he had just witnessed of the “harmony” illusion; a chill ran from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, and a layer of sticky cold sweat instantly broke out on his back!
This wasn’t an explanation or a complaint at all.
Feng Qinghe was clearly and bluntly telling Hou Xia and himself: First, Xia Jiyuan already had a replacement in your country, and the replacement was gaining momentum, making his importance no longer unshakeable; second, with him in my hands, I could provide him with good food and drink and even allow him to “cultivate relationships” with my generals—wouldn’t people’s hearts change over time?
Third, and most threateningly—if you haggle over the ransom and terms I proposed, we won’t be in a hurry to return him.
We could even “raise” him so well that he wouldn’t want to leave, or perhaps even more ruthlessly, make his existence a thorn in your country’s political situation, a potential threat!
At that time, what weight would a returning general who had “close ties” with an enemy general hold in the Khan’s eyes?
The anger on Wuzhu’s face, and the surprise and doubt he had felt earlier at seeing Xia Jiyuan “treated with courtesy,” vanished without a trace, replaced by a deathly pallor and a panic that even his forced composure couldn’t conceal.
He opened his mouth, feeling his throat dry and tight.
All the bargaining chips and bottom lines he had prepared seemed so pale in the face of the other party’s few words, and he couldn’t utter a single word.
He suddenly felt that he hadn’t come to negotiate but rather to walk into a trap.
Seeing his complexion shift between pale and flushed, Feng Qinghe knew the time was right.
She said nothing more, even withdrawing her seemingly gentle yet icy gaze.
Feng Qinghe turned gracefully, calmly returning to her seat, as if those scathing words had never come from her mouth.
She reached for the slightly cooled cup of tea, gently blew away the nonexistent floating leaves, lowered her eyes, and took a small sip, her posture relaxed, leaving Wuzhu to linger in the tent.