Not long after Song Chuyi crouched down, she saw a soldier walk over. He stood about seven meters away and scrutinized her for a few moments. “Lord Fan wants to see you. Come with me.”
Song Chuyi silently rose and followed the soldier to the front of the camp, where a burly, middle-aged scholar-official was already waiting at the entrance. He wore a dark brown wide-sleeved straight-hemmed robe, with a black great cloak over it. His features were regular but rugged, and he had a neat beard from his philtrum to his chin. His eyes were bright and piercing.
The middle-aged scholar-official and Song Chuyi sized each other up, and each saw a trace of surprise in the other’s eyes.
“Where does our honored guest come from?” The middle-aged scholar-official’s voice was as rugged as his build, which was not particularly common among scholar-officials.
“Wei (Wey).” Song Chuyi said.
“Which Wei (Wey)?” the middle-aged scholar-official asked.
Song Chuyi cupped her hands in salute and said, “I am Song Huaijin. I came here from Puyang half a year ago. Might I ask your esteemed name, sir?”
“Gongsun Yan.” The middle-aged scholar-official gave a slight cupped-hand salute, glanced at White Blade, and then said, “Please follow me.”
“Thank you for the trouble.” Song Chuyi suppressed her astonishment. If she remembered correctly, Gongsun Yan had once served as Xishou in the State of Wei – so how could he be in Zhao? Was Wei interfering in Zhao’s civil war? Or had Gongsun Yan already left Wei?
Along the way, Song Chuyi did not look around, but she paid close attention to the sounds around her.
“Please wait a moment.” Before a tent, Gongsun Yan turned and looked at Song Chuyi once more.
Like many people, he was surprised by how young Song Chuyi was and by the air about her that did not quite match her age. But he soon stopped dwelling on it. Suffering can make people grow quickly, and there is no shortage of suffering in this world.
Gongsun Yan went inside for a moment, and then a maidservant came out to welcome her. “Please follow me.”
How could there be a woman in a military camp? Song Chuyi was briefly stunned, then nodded. Just as she was about to lead White Blade inside, the guards on both sides stopped her. “This wolf may not enter.”
Song Chuyi knew this was only to be expected, but White Blade could not possibly be left locked up obediently, and who knew how they would treat a wolf? So she raised her voice and said, “I have long heard that Gongzi Fan is extraordinarily magnanimous. Could it be that he is afraid of a wolf? I have raised this wolf by my side since it was small. Please forgive me, but I cannot comply. Since you are all uneasy, I think I had better come back to pay my respects tomorrow morning after Young Master Yilou has risen from bed.”
“Let her in.” A man’s voice came leisurely from inside the tent.
The guards at the entrance paused for a moment, then reluctantly stepped aside.
Song Chuyi walked into the tent, and warm air like spring, mixed with the scent of rouge and powder, rushed to her face. Seeing that there was no one on the main seat, Song Chuyi could not help looking to the left and right.
Behind the translucent gauze curtain on the right was a two-meters-long and two-meters-wide carved sandalwood couch, covered with a white tiger skin. A handsome young man in his early twenties, dressed in light red silk, lay on his side on the couch. Four beauties in thin, sheer clothing were at his side: two massaged his legs and shoulders, one offered wine, and one cut the roasted meat on the plate into appropriately sized pieces and fed them into his mouth.
“You just now spoke in a way that rather belittled me.” Gongzi Fan stared at Song Chuyi through the gauze curtain, but his gaze was involuntarily drawn to White Blade. He could not help sitting up and exclaimed in admiration, “What a mighty snow wolf!”
Gongzi Fan rose. Two maids immediately fetched a straight-hemmed robe and draped it over him, while the other two moved with lotus-like steps to the front of the tent and gently parted the gauze curtain with hands as fair as jade.
He walked out and examined White Blade carefully for a good while, then said, “I will take this snow wolf. That will exempt you from the crime of your disrespectful words just now.”
Song Chuyi was weighing in her mind how much weight Gongzi Fan carried in this rebellion when she suddenly heard these words, and could not help frowning.
“What, you are unwilling?” Having heard no response for a while, Gongzi Fan raised the corners of his eyes and looked at Song Chuyi.
That expression clearly said: It is your honor that I, this lord, want something of yours.
“I… am unwilling,” Song Chuyi said.
“Hm?” A trace of surprise flashed across Gongzi Fan’s handsome face. He suspected he had misheard – that someone would actually dare to refuse him so rudely. “To you, this wolf is merely a plaything, but to me it is a companion on whom I depend for my very life. I have long heard of your lordship’s reputation for worthiness, and that you are not the kind of person to cut the flesh from another’s heart. Therefore I venture to guess – is your lordship testing me?” Song Chuyi cupped her hands and said humbly.
“Ha… hahahaha.” Gongzi Fan gave a few dry laughs. “So you saw through it. Truly a young talent.”
As soon as Song Chuyi had entered and used that bit of provocation, she had guessed that this lord might not truly have been provoked, but rather cared greatly about his reputation. Now, after testing him again and again, it was indeed so.
But Song Chuyi did not dare to underestimate him either. If this man were truly a useless figurehead, the various great clans would have kicked him aside long ago after finding the young lord, and would never have allowed him to carry on with such airs in a military tent.
“I was only making a wild guess. It was mere coincidence,” Song Chuyi said with a bow. She truly had to be glad that this lord was not a violent person; otherwise, trouble would likely have arisen again. Although there was an unwritten rule at present that scholar-officials were not to be killed at will, it was still only that they could not be killed “at will.”
“My lord,” someone said outside the tent.
“What is it?” Gongzi Fan saw White Blade staring at the meat on the table and smiled slightly. He sat down on the couch and picked up a piece of meat to tempt White Blade.
Song Chuyi looked at White Blade, whose drool was about to drip down, and felt it was simply too embarrassing. It wasn’t as if he usually lacked food and drink – at such a critical moment, he must not roll around and act coquettish.
“The young lord is awake and wants to see his friend,” the person outside the tent said.
Gongzi Fan’s face turned cold. He threw the meat onto the plate and said angrily, “Come in.”
A thin young man dressed as a scholar-official walked in. Before he could even salute, there was a clatter as Gongzi Fan smashed the plate in front of him. “Who gave permission to tell him about the matter here, hm? Was my consent ever obtained?”
“It was Hua Ji Rongjian,” the young man said hurriedly.
Hua Ji Rongjian was not really a name. These three characters meant: a man of the Hua clan, fourth in rank, named Rongjian. His full name was actually Hua Rongjian.
Gongzi Fan’s face was ashen, but he swallowed his anger and said through gritted teeth, “Take him there.”
The young man did not dare linger. He hurriedly gestured for Song Chuyi to follow him.
No sooner had Song Chuyi stepped out of the main tent than she heard the clatter of bronze and porcelain being smashed inside. Song Chuyi thought to herself that with so many different factions tangled together here, if they truly captured the capital, it would be a tremendous disaster for Zhao. The history of “The Orphan of Zhao” would likely repeat itself.
“I am Song Huaijin. Might I ask your esteemed name, sir?” Song Chuyi cupped her hands and said to the thin young man beside her.
The young man glanced at White Blade, as if very wary of him – whether because he was frightened by White Blade or because the lingering force of Gongzi Fan’s rage had not yet faded, his voice trembled slightly. “I am Chuan Ping.”
Song Chuyi was preoccupied with the thought of soon meeting Zhao Yilou, so she had little interest in talking with him.
Chuan Ping likewise seemed poor at conversation, and the two walked in silence all the way to a large tent.
