Four Seasons Brocade – CH 188

Chapter 188 ☆、

On the Luobei Grassland in early winter, the grass was withered and the leaves yellow, a thin layer of frost extending the white expanse beyond sight.

“They are here.” Ah Wu heard Chu Mao whisper in her ear. She was sitting on Chu Mao’s beloved steed, the Black Dragon King, wrapped in a mink coat, leaning against Chu Mao’s chest. The north wind howled against her cheeks, and even with the mink fur collar partially covering her face, it still stung.

But Ah Wu’s face showed no sign of pain or impatience; instead, it was flushed with excitement. She gripped the musket in both hands, and Chu Mao gently raised it, supporting her hands.

“Do not be afraid. Keep your eyes forward, and stay calm.” Chu Mao’s voice, carried on the howling wind, was like a stabilizing force, calming Ah Wu’s trembling hands.

The clatter of hooves echoed as the fleeing riders galloped in. In the vast expanse of land, a lone rider and two men stood silently beneath the vast sky.

Jinguo Erhan, leading twenty-three escaped riders, charged forward fearlessly. The twenty-four men arrived with overwhelming force, like a dark cloud sweeping over the sun, carrying the force of a thousand bolts of lightning.

Ah Wu flicked the trigger, and the bullet shot out like a meteor, leaving a bloody gash on Jinguo Erhan’s cheek. Jinguo Erhan was terrified, breaking out in a cold sweat. Before he could even recover, another bloody gash appeared on his other cheek.

Jinguo Erhan was so frightened that he fell from his horse. He had not even seen what had grazed his face, but at such a close call, he would have been food for the vultures.

“Is that enough?” Chu Mao asked in Ah Wu’s ear.

“A little,” Ah Wu replied with a restrained smile.

Seeing Ah Wu lower her hand, Jinguo Erhan immediately mounted his horse, not daring to remain on top of it, instead hiding to the side of its belly. The twenty-four riders immediately surrounded Chu Mao and Ah Wu.

Jinguo Erhan glanced at Chu Mao, raised his hand, and uttered only one word, “Kill.”

Ah Wu suddenly felt that Chu Mao had been overconfident. Two fists could not fight four hands, especially the strongest barbarian warriors who had broken through the Western Expeditionary Army.

Ah Wu suddenly felt emptiness behind her, her horse swayed, and Chu Mao’s figure appeared in mid-air. Ah Wu saw a flash of silver light, and before she could clearly see Chu Mao’s figure and movements, Chu Mao was already sitting behind her again.

The scene just now seemed like a hallucination to Ah Wu.

“Your Highness,” Ah Wu turned her head to look at Chu Mao, who was not even out of breath.

After Chu Mao remounted, he held something in his hand: twenty-four braids.

Jinguo Erhan, pale-faced, touched his head, then burst into loud laughter, his voice shaking the heavens.

“Very well, Your Highness, I, Jinguo Erhan, am utterly convinced of your superiority.” Jinguo Erhan dismounted, holding his whip in both hands, and knelt on one knee before Chu Mao’s horse.

This was a sign of surrender and submission from the Tatars, offering their horse as a tribute and pledging to serve them as slaves from this day forward.

The other twenty-three men also dismounted and knelt on one knee.

The sound of hooves echoed in the distance, and the ant-like black shadows grew larger and larger until they were in sight—Chu Mao’s personal guard, who had been tracking Jinguo Erhan.

That night, Chu Mao hosted a feast for Jinguo Erhan in his main tent. Ah Wu lay in bed, her eyes wide open, recalling Chu Mao’s heroic figure from earlier that day. Indeed, even beauties could not resist the charms of a hero. Ah Wu touched her chest; her heart was pounding rapidly.

When Chu Mao returned to his tent, his handsome face was flushed. He was usually quite a heavy drinker, able to hold his liquor without getting drunk, but today, with his face so red, Ah Wu wondered how much he had drunk. However, the grassland people were known for their generosity; if you could not outdrink them, they would not truly respect you.

Ah Wu jumped off the bed and helped Chu Mao sit down. “I will go ask He Chun to make you a hangover soup.”

“No need,” Chu Mao said, pulling at Ah Wu’s sleeve. “Hangover soup will not work.”

“How can it not work?” Ah Wu asked, puzzled.

“I’ve been drunk the whole time,” Chu Mao said.

Ah Wu frowned. His seemingly random statement meant he had indeed been drunk the whole time. As Ah Wu pondered this, two fingers appeared between her brows, gently massaging her temples.

“It’s not the wine that intoxicates, but the person themselves. I am afraid I will never be able to drink like this again,” Chu Mao sighed.

Ah Wu blushed, her heart pounding like a deer. She glanced at Chu Mao, suppressing her shyness, but saw his vacant gaze, completely devoid of his usual lucidity; he was utterly rambling incoherently. Ah Wu felt an urge to whip Chu Mao.

Ah Wu nudged Chu Mao. “Fine, you will not drink the hangover soup, but you stink. Go take a bath.” Ah Wu fanned her nose.

Chu Mao obediently went out, returning with a smile. “Why are you not asleep yet?”

Ah Wu looked at Chu Mao again, noticing the blush had faded from his face. She asked, “Your Highness is sober?”

Chu Mao nodded, lying down beside Ah Wu, fully clothed. Ah Wu turned her head to look at him and asked again, “Your Highness is really sober?”

Chu Mao chuckled and tapped Ah Wu’s forehead, saying, “I feel much better after the bath.”

“Did you not say you’d never…” Ah Wu began, unwilling to give up, but the words caught in her throat. Looking at Chu Mao, it was as if he had not said anything at all—of course, he had not said anything at all.

Ah Wu turned and lay down on her side.

“Never what?” Chu Mao asked. “Why did you not finish?”

“I am asleep,” Ah Wu said stubbornly, turning over and ignoring Chu Mao. The person behind her seemed utterly exhausted, not even bothering to comfort her or ask her anything. Ah Wu held her breath, fussing for most of the night before finally falling asleep, while the person behind her slept soundly, their breaths long and deep, occasionally nuzzling her neck with a contented sigh.

For the next two days, Chu Mao was extremely busy, busy reorganizing his troops, busy negotiating with Jinguo Erhan, busy meeting with local officials, busy…

In short, Ah Wu had not seen anyone for a day and a night, so she decided to go out for a walk. Ah Wu had never liked the smell of men, especially not in a military camp where the stench of men was overwhelming. Ah Wu usually stayed in her tent, so it was quite difficult for her to lift the curtain and endure the hungry gazes of those men.

As soon as Ah Wu stepped out of her tent, she heard faint cheers from the other end. “He Chun, what’s all this noise?”

He Chun indeed emerged from where she could not see him and laughed, “His Highness is wrestling with Jinguo Erhan.”

“Wrestling?” Ah Wu was not sure if she had misheard, but judging from He Chun’s expression, she knew she had not. Ah Wu knew what wrestling was, of course, but she could not imagine the way Chu Mao was wrestling—was it crude?

“Let’s go see,” Ah Wu said.

He Chun immediately cleared a path for Ah Wu, allowing her to stand at the very front to watch the wrestling match between Prince Qi and Jinguo Erhan. Three people’s width of space was maintained around her, greatly demonstrating her extraordinary status as a favorite.

Both Chu Mao and Jinguo Erhan were shirtless, wearing trousers and leather boots. However, compared to the hairy, thick-waisted, and muscular Jinguo Erhan, Ah Wu thought Chu Mao was incredibly handsome.

The wrestling movements were savage and primal. Jinguo Erhan charged like a bull, but Chu Mao sidestepped, grabbed his head, and flipped him to the ground. Cheers erupted from the sidelines, and even Ah Wu clenched her fists.

Ah Wu felt that Chu Mao, bathed in sunlight, exuded a primal power. It was not exactly beautiful, but it was undeniably spectacular. Sweat dripped down his back, reflecting the sunlight on his bronze skin, and Ah Wu suddenly felt a dryness in her mouth.

Another round of cheers erupted. Ah Wu, now even finding Jinguo Erhan’s fur pleasing to the eye, appreciated the fresh scent of the grasslands, the azure sky, the snow-white clouds, the man’s strength, his robust and magnificent presence, and the sincere applause. Finally, even Ah Wu could not help but shout, “Bravo!”

Chu Mao pinned Jinguo Erhan to the ground, turned back to Ah Wu with a smile, beads of sweat flying from his tossed hair. For the first time, Ah Wu ignored the stench of sweat and instead appreciated its beauty.

That evening, Ah Wu asked Chu Mao, “Your Highness can wrestle?”

Chu Mao smiled, but a hint of gloom appeared in his eyes, as if he were recalling something unpleasant. Ah Wu dared not ask further. She knew without guessing that His Highness’s days in the Forbidden Palace had been anything but pleasant—days Ah Wu could not imagine and dared not think about.

“How did Your Highness’s talk with Jinguo Erhan go?” Ah Wu changed the subject.

“I will release Jinguo Erhan back, and the Tatars will pay tribute to Great Xia with 5,000 warhorses annually. On the border, I’ve spoken with Liu Houfang, instructing him to secretly manage the border trade between the Tatars and Great Xia and tacitly allow intermarriage between the Han and non-Han peoples. Everything can only be done cautiously; we will try it out first,” Chu Mao said briefly.

Unfortunately, everything had to be done covertly, and they were still subject to the control of Liu Houfang, the governor of Luobei. The Tatars still had to pay their annual tribute, and Ah Wu seriously doubted how long this peace could last. “What are Jinguo Erhan’s demands?”

Chu Mao looked at Ah Wu seriously, as if surprised by her keen observation. “Jinguo Erhan demands that I must declare myself Emperor within three years.”

Ah Wu was not surprised, but she recalled whether Chu Mao had declared himself Emperor within three years in her previous life. The Longqing Emperor had indeed died at the end of the thirty-fifth year of his reign, and the Emperor Ai had succeeded him. In her previous life, Chu Mao had entered Shangjing in the second year of the Emperor Ai’s reign, which would be five years from now.

Chu Mao ruffled Ah Wu’s hair. “Do not worry about these things; leave them to me.” Then, Chu Mao added, “We will be setting off back to the capital tomorrow.”

“So soon?” Ah Wu exclaimed in surprise.

“His Majesty has already issued five imperial edicts urging us to return,” Chu Mao said calmly.

Ah Wu fell silent. After Chu Mao left the capital, Empress Tian and Consort Xiang had undoubtedly whispered countless rumors in the Longqing Emperor’s ear, and the Fifth and Sixth Princes’ factions among the court officials had submitted numerous memorials. And Chu Mao’s nine captures and releases of Jinguo Erhan in Luobei must have already been reported to the court.

Ah Wu even suspected that Chu Mao’s return to the capital would not be rewarded for his merits, but rather that he would likely be imprisoned and shackled.

Ah Wu truly admired Chu Mao’s composure at this moment. “Your Highness, after we return to the capital…”

Chu Mao ruffled Ah Wu’s hair again and smiled, “For Ah Wu’s sake, I will not let anything happen to myself.”