Zheng Fan had never considered himself particularly fond of mature, older women, but he truly enjoyed the feeling when he was with Siniang.
They didn’t do much, just held each other. Though simple, it was genuinely beautiful.
He had slept well that night.
When he woke up, Siniang had already risen and was knitting by the bedside.
Zheng Fan opened his eyes and looked at Siniang. In his previous life, his parents had divorced when he was relatively young, so he had no memories of waking up to see his mother sitting beside him, knitting a sweater.
Seeing Siniang in the role of his ’mother’ felt a little strange.
But in this fortress, sane people were a rarity.
When Siniang saw Zheng Fan was awake, she remained silent since he said nothing, quietly continuing with her task.
This silent atmosphere lasted for nearly an hour before Zheng Fan finally stretched and asked, "What time is it, Siniang?"
"Well, then I’ll go wash up."
He got out of bed, dressed, and washed. By the time he was done, Siniang had already brought in breakfast.
Plain porridge with pickled vegetables—simple yet delicate.
Zheng Fan picked up a salted duck egg and, as he peeled it, asked, "Is the Blind Man still asleep?"
"I expect he will be unconscious for a few days," Siniang replied.
The Blind Man’s manipulation of Lady Daxi had been successful. It was just that the timely appearance of the Qian army had prevented Zheng Fan from seizing the opportunity to enter the city.
At that moment, A Ming came over. Although he had been pierced by quite a few arrows the previous day, he looked relatively well, perhaps because he had been drinking a lot of ’water’.
"My lord, we’ve counted and loaded the heads."
Counting enemy heads was not an easy task. The difficulty wasn’t fear, but rather determining and distributing the heads. Some scouts had sacrificed a great deal for the group, so they also had to be compensated with a portion of the heads.
"My lord, please take your time eating. I’m going to rest. Call me when you’re ready to go to Nanwang City."
A Ming, a bulging waterskin tied to his waist, went to his room to find his coffin. Some people enjoyed drinking coffee in Starbucks; A Ming enjoyed the feeling of ’anemia’ while lying in his coffin.
"My lord, San’er hasn’t returned yet," Siniang said.
"He should be fine, right?" Zheng Fan said.
Zheng Fan trusted Xue Three’s survival skills.
"Well, if anything did happen to him, it probably would have happened some time ago. We should prepare ourselves for that."
Scraping the last bit of porridge from the bowl into his mouth, Zheng Fan clapped his hands and said, "The harvest from this expedition was significant. It’s time to squeeze Hui Wenzu again." Thıs text ıs hosted at novęlfire.net
The noble prisoner soldiers were indeed very useful. With tangible proof in the form of severed heads, Hui Wenzu could more confidently and assertively pave the way for him. Zheng Fan was also looking forward to expanding the army further.
Moreover, the appeal of his Green Willow Fortress to these noble prisoner soldiers would also be greatly enhanced.
He no longer needed to worry about the army’s morale and spirit.
"What’s A Cheng busy with?"
"My lord, he’s probably busy appeasing the Huo Family."
With the death of Huo Kuang, the Huo Family had suddenly lost its leader. It was indeed appropriate for Liang Cheng to go and console them now.
The biggest problem with the noble clan soldiers was their strong clan allegiance. Zheng Fan didn’t like having too many factions under his command either.
When the sun was up, around nine o’clock, Zheng Fan called for A Ming. Xiao Yibo, leading his men, had already readied the carts.
Zheng Fan mounted his horse and took a deep breath. Although the sun was up, the air still held a biting chill.
Looking back at the cartloads of severed heads, Zheng Fan suddenly felt as he had in his previous life when playing a farming game. It was as if the carts weren’t loaded with heads, but with corn and flowers.
It felt like he was farming; this time, he was taking his harvested crops to sell in Nanwang City.
His barbarian soldiers wanted Yan citizenship, the noble clan soldiers wanted freedom for their families, and what he himself could gain would likely be official rank and more resources.
Whether he wanted to rule the world or strive to be superior to others, and what to do once he reached that point—Zheng Fan hadn’t really thought much about it.
But he did enjoy the feeling of striving and achieving. The process itself was highly satisfying.
"My lord, shall we depart?" A Ming asked.
Zheng Fan nodded. The morning sun shone on his face as he raised his whip and commanded,
Outside Mianzhou City, several divisions of the West Army Division had gathered. Using Mianzhou City as their center, they began constructing a large encampment. Everything proceeded in an orderly fashion, displaying a potent military presence that had long been absent from the Qian State’s three border regions.
Inside the government office in Mianzhou City, Zhong Wenhao had awakened. Older people naturally slept less.
While he was having breakfast, a personal guard came to report.
Zhong Wenhao nodded and said, "Reply to Grand Commandant Yang that I will await him in Mianzhou City tomorrow."
With the arrival of the various army units, their respective leaders naturally needed to convene. Grand Commandant Yang’s choice of Mianzhou City as the meeting place was, in effect, a gesture of humility, acknowledging Zhong Wenhao’s leadership role among the numerous Qian armies.
When it came to matters of great principle, this eunuch had always been remarkably clear-sighted.
Putting down his chopsticks, Zhong Wenhao asked the personal guard beside him, "What’s Tianlang doing?"
"Marshal, the Young General is likely still resting. He returned quite late last night."
"Resting? Can he truly afford to rest?"
"That boy is probably pleading with his various uncles for cavalry right now." Zhong Wenhao chuckled. "Never mind that! Assign a thousand cavalry from my personal command to him. Since he’s looking to stir things up, we can’t be stingy about it. If the Yan people can come, can’t we Qian people go? It’s only polite to reciprocate!"