She placed a piece of meat in her mouth along with two stalks of vegetables and began to eat with great relish.
Watching her enjoying herself so thoroughly, Qiao Mu prepared a bowl for herself in kind.
Before long, everyone had come inside — all except Tuoba Keyan, who was on duty that day.
Per Feng Jiu’er’s arrangement, someone was required to be on watch duty each day, and today the rotation had fallen to Tuoba Keyan.
As for Zhao Yusheng’s hot pot, everyone heaped praise on it without exception.
With such wonderful food before them, the atmosphere in the tent was more carefree and joyful than it had ever been.
In the forest behind the mountain to the right of the encampment, a clear, sparkling stream burbled along, alive with fish and shrimp darting cheerfully through its current.
At a bend in the mountain foot on the far side of the stream, a towering figure sat astride a horse.
After a while, two much smaller figures in the distance began to approach.
Feng Qingyin rode hard across the flat grassland, her gaze sharp and fierce, without a trace of the vulnerability she wore like a mask.
Ling Long, her face covered, sat in the saddle close behind.
“My lady, slower! Mind the child in your belly.”
“I’m fine. I know my own body.” Catching sight of the figure in the distance, Feng Qingyin pressed her heels to her horse’s flanks and quickened her pace.
After a moment, Feng Qingyin and Ling Long arrived at the mountain bend and drew their horses to a halt before Tuoba Keyan.
She half-narrowed her eyes, sizing him up for a moment, then said coolly: “So you are the First Prince of the Ruhe Kingdom?”
“Oh — my apologies. There is no Ruhe Kingdom anymore, is there. So you are the refugee of a fallen nation I sent for — the one who wishes to work with me?”
Tuoba Keyan’s gaze fixed on the woman before him. His fists clenched tight, and a tide of deep, concentrated hatred churned in the depths of his eyes.
He glanced briefly at Feng Qingyin’s rounded belly, drew a slow breath, and furrowed his brow.
“You’re not much to look at yourself. A Noble Consort, great with child, still trudging around a battlefield. Quite pitiable.”
“I have no patience for idle talk. You summoned me at this hour, which tells me you are interested in collaborating with this refugee of a fallen nation. Am I wrong?”
At the corners of Feng Qingyin’s lips, a faint smile appeared — edged with a thread of bitterness, and touched with a thread of disdain.
“To work with me, I’ll need a show of sincerity. I heard that the man surnamed Cai is not yet dead. Didn’t you say you’d help me kill him to prove your good faith?”
Tuoba Keyan’s lips curved up slightly, and he pulled his gaze away from Feng Qingyin.
“Killing a man — and a half-dead one at that — presents no difficulty to me.”
“But you should know that if General Cai were to die without explanation, it would not be to my advantage either.”
“All these days have passed. Has anyone gone to the Crown Prince and said anything? No — isn’t that right?”
“In any case, I can guarantee he will never have the chance to speak. Letting him live a few more days changes nothing.”
“So you are saying General Cai is already under your control.” Ling Long stared hard at Tuoba Keyan and spoke in a low, measured voice.
Tuoba Keyan glanced at Ling Long and nodded.
“Rest assured — he will have no opportunity to say a word. Noble Consort, you have condescended to summon me here, so let’s not waste time. Speak your piece and be done — this is not a safe place to linger.”
At this moment, Tuoba Keyan looked nothing like the person who stood at Feng Jiu’er’s side. He seemed to have reverted entirely to who he was before that great battle — just as cold, just as ruthless, his eyes brimming with the intent to kill.
Feng Qingyin glanced sideways at Ling Long. Ling Long unhooked the command token from her waist and tossed it across.
Tuoba Keyan extended a large hand and caught it cleanly.
“I trust you are already aware that Feng Jiu’er holds the Crown Prince’s genuine command token.” Feng Qingyin raised an eyebrow and spoke in a firm, steady voice.
“At the time, Feng Jiu’er and Ling Long fought, and the token was taken from Ling Long’s hand. Retrieve it and exchange it back for the real one — then I will believe you mean it.”
“Otherwise, our collaboration is off the table.”
Tuoba Keyan turned the counterfeit token over in his hands a few times and nodded.
“Xing Zizhou has been carrying the Crown Prince’s token on his errands outside — he only arrived today. Swapping it out should not be difficult.”
“Very well. I give you one day.” Hearing that there was a real chance of recovering the token, Feng Qingyin let out a breath of relief.
Tuoba Keyan’s lips curved slightly as he continued.
“And how am I to know whether Noble Consort’s word is true? If you merely intend to use me to exchange the token and have no genuine intention of collaborating, I would be left with no recourse.”
“My lady keeps her word. Who are you to question someone of your station?” Ling Long glared at Tuoba Keyan, her voice dripping with contempt.
“Ling Long.” Feng Qingyin silenced her with a glance, then turned her gaze back to Tuoba Keyan.
“I am the Crown Prince’s woman. How could I not wish for him to win this war?”
“That goes without saying. Still, I have my concerns.” Tuoba Keyan tilted his head slightly.
“Then let’s say this: give me one hundred thousand taels of silver, and in exchange, I’ll bring you the real token. What does Noble Consort say?”
“To bring down the Ninth Prince, to recruit soldiers and buy horses — all of that takes silver. And silver is precisely what I am most lacking at the moment.”
“Whether you are Noble Consort or Crown Princess, one hundred thousand taels is hardly a large sum to you, is it?”
Feng Qingyin frowned faintly and glanced back at Ling Long.
She had always known her schemes would not come cheap — she just hadn’t expected Tuoba Keyan to open with one hundred thousand taels at the very first word.
Ling Long met her gaze and gave a quiet nod, then turned her eyes back to Tuoba Keyan.
“Have you forgotten your own place? A refugee of a fallen nation, asking for this much? Aren’t you getting a little too far above yourself?”
Tuoba Keyan, however, seemed entirely unbothered by Ling Long’s words. The faint curve at his lips did not waver.
“My life is not worth one hundred thousand taels, that’s true. But as things stand, Jiu’er trusts me completely — and that, I would say, is something one hundred thousand taels couldn’t buy.”
“It seems Noble Consort merely wishes to use me to swap back the token, with no genuine intention of collaborating.”
“Very well. I’ll take this to the Eighth Prince instead. Whatever price he offers, it will certainly exceed this figure.”
Before he had finished speaking, Tuoba Keyan took hold of his reins and turned his horse around.
“Wait.” The word left Feng Qingyin’s lips almost before she could stop it.
She had to bring the real token back to Crown Prince Brother. Without it, Crown Prince Brother would certainly send her away.
She could not leave. She had to stay by his side — only then would Feng Jiu’er have no opening to take advantage of.
Tuoba Keyan turned his horse back to face Feng Qingyin, his manner entirely unchanged — seemingly at ease, yet carrying a cold that ran deeper than words could describe.
“Noble Consort, have you made up your mind to cooperate with me?”
“Fine. One hundred thousand taels it is.” Feng Qingyin let out a small sigh and waved her hand. “At first light tomorrow, you are to bring the real token to me.”
She glanced back at Ling Long, frowning faintly.
“Give him fifty thousand now. The other fifty thousand — we exchange the token and the silver at the same time tomorrow.”
“Yes, my lady.” Ling Long reached into her robe, counted out a stack of banknotes, and pulled them out.
“Here are fifty thousand taels. Please inspect them, Young Master Tuoba.”
Since it was Feng Qingyin’s decision, Ling Long dared not say another word.
Tuoba Keyan took the banknotes, glanced them over, and tucked them into his robe.
“Noble Consort, I hope we will have the opportunity to work well together. Until next time.”