Qian Ye and the officers of Dark Flame discussed various options over the map before selecting a mine located in the land of the Earl as their objective. They started to assemble their units. He planned to station the main forces at Heiling, leaving Zhao Yuying to safeguard logistics and the retreat paths while moving ahead himself with an elite light company for rapid raids.
As Qian Ye began handpicking soldiers, Zhao Yuying finally asked, “You’re seriously going through with this?”
“Of course,” Qian Ye replied, a trifle puzzled.
“But that’s a mine, where gold gushes like a fountain!”
“Actually, it was another one of her insatiable money-fix dreams.
Qian Ye laughed lightly. “We won’t ever receive its wealth unless we scare off that old spider—we might as well set it ablaze. Additionally, aren’t there still several other spots in other branch ranges along these mountains from which more Blackstone mines could be harnessed?”
As Zhao Yeying casually went to slap a hand on Qian Ye’s shoulder yet again, he deftly dodged. A sly gleam flashed through her eyes. “Aw, come on, Qian Ye—are you so shy that you happen still to be a virgin?”
“Hardly,” Qian Ye retorted, visibly bristling, “So thanks for your concern.”
“Okay, good to hear. When we ascend back upward towards the Central Continent, Senior Sister’ll bring you somewhere fun. Oh there, many refined and delightful delights!”
The surrounding commanders of Dark Flame tried to maintain composed, yet their lips struggled to control the smirk creeping through; Qian Ye, too irately wanted to hold his throbbing foreheard. When did their tactical analysis degenerate into flirtatious banter? Eventually, he sighed, “Would you think this is something a woman of your station should be involved with?”
“Who else if not your loving sister? It’d relate to a lifetime journey!” she responded self-convincingly instead.
Qian Ye gave a helpless huff; no one he knew obsessed about lifemate arrangements at ‘that establishment.’ As for female company, he wasn’t hurting. Standing close by, casting intense looks over towards him were his attendants A-Qi and A-Jiu.
Regarding the idea of a ‘Lifetimes Journey’ though, it turns out plenty actually shared her concern—among were both Song Zi Ning and Wei Patian. Though rather strangely, what they worried about in this context was actually one another.
Right now Song Zi Ning and Wang Wei Patien were playing an ancient board game. This artistic contest usually bore no relation with battle-hardened Wei Patian, however, here the great son held black stones smiling across from Song, as though he contained a thousand games and secrets. Song himself, while gifted at many arts, easily outpaced the rough-edged Wei’s skill.
Yet today, his usually polished countenance betrayed a slight impatience difficult to mask in light of the group of high society belles surrounding the scene—and several precious white pieces between his fingers had already splintered under the tense pressure he imposed on them, suggesting a loss was near inevitable… and although the white side was winning handily, slaughtering black left in disarray, still Wei wouldn’t yield gracefully.
With a flair of aristocratic arrogance, Wei casually dropped piece, his left abruptly flourishing opened ornamental fans he’d been waving back-and-forth; grasping as if with axe-like hands ready for axe battle. Admittedly the painted scroll bore the handwork of masters though strangely the brushstrokes appeared rather familiar—the identical cherished art Song himself had kept close these recent days before its current inexplicable reappearance inside Wei’s callusing fingers somehow.
Snapping shut the fan Wei pointed mockingly with it toward the exasperated Song while proclaiming: “Behold the very essence! Elegance! Genius! If ever someone could rival Master Qi Shao as today’s Song clan does, I’m the first in objection!”
The on-looking maidens let loose musical guffaws appreciating the lively performance unfolding.
Yet lately Song’s expression had grown as sharp as a saber slicing into Wei.
“So you’re still not playing…” was all he stated.
But no one needed to suffer Wei’s glee—he was like one drenched midday swelter in icy bliss. He turned to the noblewomen beside him and laughed: “Let’s just say I am but a brute at war, feasting, and frolicking girls. My redeeming virtues limited mostly to how loud these snores at bedtime can become! Observe now how this Seven Boy exudes perfection, from his pretty face down… uh—well the face is enough! I trail behind no less than several streets back!”
With a slap upon his knee: “Ah, The SONG FAMILY! Sigh… the Wei household ain’t too pathetic myself really, aside from the shortage in military finance hindering any large conscriptions we could have. These attacks by the Darkbloods mean I personally must often fill in on the frontlines myself—getting myself wounded more times than I’d like!”
With this, Wei dramatically lifted part of his garment for exhibition. “Right here—a real whopper—letting you all girls see how it truly looks!”
Gasps then giggles arose among young highborn women as one impulsively launched chess grains over Wei’s head; the pieces scattering across the board. Seizing justification Wei promptly flattened everything into a claimed tie.
Song Zi Ning remained speechless, knowing the slightest further confrontation might provoke Wei to strip even more scandalously. That game wouldn’t be continuing tonight, and as night deepened, the group of noblewomen gracefully bade their leave.
But as soon as most vanished beyond the door, Song caught Wei by the collar mid-escape hissing, “Wei Fat-head—you already know I don’t desire the Song Patriarch title! So Why do you do these things?”
Grinning mischievously Wei whispered, “After all—it’s still all about looks these day. Whose neck should you wring, huh?”
Coolly Song rebuked: “Then Qian Yep—so handsomer than you could ever dream!”
Wei stalled momentarily then appraised his companion up and down again appreciatively: “Truly the most reliable brother indeed.”
Unmoved Song countered: “You sure have flair for finding female company.”
Wei’s expression took poetic stillness beneath the full shining moon: “Do you wonder something… more vital that looks?”
Song, half curious despite instinct protest, answered back: “Like—say—What’s important that surpasses that?”
Wei declared confidently but suddenly: “Power.”
A fool indeed was the man indulging further with an answer from this uncouth pig. Still Song couldn’t simply let it pass. Ever since Wei started attaching Song to anything he does over days—surrounded nonstop by noble women. This jeopardized vital operations—Song’s covert forces were half-veiled anyway; crucial attendants reporting couldn’t dare show themselves!
“We must not continue this game, Wei,” growled Song. “As Qian is westward in campaign and Dark Flame demands vast logistics management; legal disputes persist unresolved. How could I function entangled among these distractions?”
Catching this warning with sharp eyes, Wei staid with crossed arms as he observed: “The Dark Flame Regiment has Qian Ye as captain? Yet from here—it looks more… your men populating them?”
The two stared in mutual challenge across that invisible line.
“Dark Flame?” Song replied at length, smirking slowly. “Is one business we run together—my investment standing for three-tenth ownership. Comrade Wei, even between past grudges, don’t seek me during such sensitive times?”
Wei smiled calmly wobbling down his extended fingers threefold, hovering before Song. “So then—just concede me three more defeats publicly at chess in public view, then I’ll share my secrets.”
To lose at chess three times would cost only pride; no matter. Song nodded assent instantly.
With hearty chuckles Wei grinned his solution: “Dealing with these girls remains super-easy. Just act as planned and ignore them. By the way, if some potential alternatives come forth—call up fresh men around occasionally! Scattering fire helps, doesn’t it?”
Silently seething in full clarity at Wei’s intent, Song found himself the target meant for that diversion strategy all along.
By next morning South Palace Ling and two noblewomen found Wei Patien. The prince’s mood was high. Taking them with, he rushed head-first to the Headquarters of the Seventh Division in pursuit of the famed chess player Zhang Zixing for yet more drinking.
Upon the third cup, Wei loudly proclaimed: “Me? Chess genius unparalleled. Defeating Song Zi Ning? No big feat at all!”
Although many of the attending ladies had observed his trickery in person they merely concealed chuckles with silks as Zhang—who’d been recently crushed by Song—interjected mockingly:
“Win from Seven Boy?” He snorted. “Sure, I’d believe in hells!”
Wei Patienen slapped his thigh thunderously, grinning. “Me? That pale-face Song a problem. I could crush him! A triple consecutive win? Child’s play! What stakes you want?”
Zhang’s lips twisted into a smirk; “Name something then Wei.”
The brute gleamed, chafing his hands cheerfully: I just require half a Jin of that premium-grade Silk-Threaded Adamantine Ore.
Zhang couldn’t help but glare: Such material—extremely rare—primarily reserved for armors. The way Wei described it almost like an item worth nothing in the market at all—how was half Jin even obtainable?
“What are you going to do with this?”
“My hands hold many raw items already. Missing only this. When I get some blacksmiths working it to create a breastplate—one given freely to my best friend.” He answered calmly, adding as a postlude: “Qian Ye. Ever heard of him?”
The expression on Zhang’s face shifted.
Qian Ye indeed commanded respect throughout warzones—an armored protector wouldn’t go amiss amidst a battlefield like Yunye Dominion!
“And you bet a fan on that?” Zhang gestured to the exquisite artifact—clearly a rare treasure Song cherished dearly. The object, indeed worthy, though its use baffled his own lifestyle.
“Not your style?” Wei laughed heartily. “Perhaps old masters might appreciate it—or those noble belles there! Witness their expressions closely.”
Sure enough, the South Palace girls swooned with soft squeals trying repeatedly—vainly—to jab Wei’s broad back.
The challenge accepted, Zhang found himself amidst a drunken Wei Patien later who hauled him to Song’s base in search of a match. Slurred words mingled amid staggering balance yet somehow three matches concluded—each won cleanly by an increasingly stunned Zhang, his expression disbelieving. Despite an undeniably improved technique from Wei… this defied logic; Wei’s win streak simply couldn’t occur unless aided by under-table collusion.
Yet the two had not conspired. The conclusion crystallized rapidly; This had been solely Wei’s handiwork; cleverly orchestrated as yet another of this trickster’s grand schemes. However Zhang respected gambling honor over indignation despite feeling like a pawn. Orders for Silk-Thread Adamantine went directly through his soldiers back to Wei’s quarters.
Wei simply laughed off the tension claiming: “Just some small tricks. Don’t take heart,” offering back immediately the prized ornamental fan—a revelation somewhat lightened Zhang. Apparently Wei had simply planned a direct trade—the stakes had always been an excuse rather than profit; the entire match arranged for that singular exchange!
Song, silent witness at edge, quickly realized this too: his role nothing better than an exploited, expendable cog—a grimace darkened his pale features involuntarily.
But in that tense instant—a blood-curling alarm screamed out into the night from Helium City; all expressions turned rigid with shock. With the division’s patrol squad watching the skies from afar—no alert should have appeared this urgently?
Zhang immediately rose into the skies without a word. His entire personal escort scrambled for vehicles to join; light terrain craft raced full throttle toward sentry towers.
Midflight, Zhang scanned outward only to find four rapidly approaching black dots—flying at alarming speed. Four floating Dreadnoughts—closing in, their velocity superior compared to any ship within Zhang’s division except possibly few elite frigates!
His heart froze—the moment Zhang unleashed a deafening howling challenge. Across distant bases, ships ascension into flight sequences immediately begun.
And yet, no change emerged from these airborne warships’ path. As the dreadnoughts came near spotting a series of imperial warcraft now climbing, messages began flashing forth with bright blinking signals toward them instead.
“It’s the Red Scorpion Force!” Relieved but uneasy, recognition struck Zhang.
In this same moment Song along with Wei also appeared upon the city walls, seeing those signals as realization struck their gazes too. Something stirred deep in their gut—an unexpected return of the enemy. One long since unvisited after many cycles under a crimson bloodmoon; an ominous return, heralding winds that stirred not for idle breezes…
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