The young Minister often pondered philosophical questions about human nature. Though more intelligent than most, he was prone to overthinking. For any topic, there would be two contradictory answers. The more the young Minister thought, the more terrifying it became, and soon his face turned deathly pale, his entire person swaying unsteadily.

Prince Modun ate more than half the food on the table, then searched nearby for a clean silk cloth and wrapped the remaining flatbreads. He lifted the waterskin and drank deeply, then used some water to wipe his face. Looking at the remaining water in the skin, he hesitated, then pushed the wooden stopper back in and placed it on the table, planning to take it with him.

Then he stood up, looked at the armor hanging in the tent, pointed his crossbow at the young Minister, and snorted coldly: “Get up. Help me dress.”

This command rescued the young Minister from his intense internal struggle. He looked up blankly, just in time to see Prince Modun standing freely before him.

Qin people had always been taller and more robust than Central Plains people, and after standing, Prince Modun was even more imposing and powerful than the average Qin person. Yet the graceful muscle lines on his body didn’t make him seem overly bulky—they seemed to contain boundless strength. This young Xiongnu prince, having wiped away the dust and blood from his face, revealed his true appearance. His complexion was slightly dark, his eyebrows thick, his eye sockets deep-set with emerald green pupils, his nose bridge high, and his features extremely sharp. His cheeks still bore unhealed wounds, showing that escaping all the way from the Yuezhi Kingdom to here, he had endured unimaginable hardships and torment. He should have been the most noble existence among the Xiongnu aside from Chanyu Touman, yet now he could only survive with difficulty in the cracks. Under such adverse circumstances, he showed not a trace of dejection. Instead, his entire being was like an unsheathed blade, radiating an impossible-to-ignore sharpness after being tempered a thousand times.

Such a person, if allowed to return to the royal court, would surely bring the Xiongnu its most powerful chanyu.

The young Minister secretly clenched his fist again, though his face remained calm as still water. He stood up and obediently walked to Modun’s side, picking up the nearby armor to dress him while under the threat of the blade.

Since this was military officer armor he regularly wore, their builds differed greatly, and the binding sections needed adjustment. The young Minister’s fingers were already inflexible, making his movements even slower.

Modun watched, not realizing the green-robed youth had finger problems, thinking instead he was deliberately stalling for time. He laughed scornfully but didn’t make an issue of it. Before entering this tent, he had already surveyed the surrounding situation. He could afford to delay here for about half an hour. If not for fearing daylight would make escape difficult, he would have preferred to rest here for the night—heaven knew how long it had been since he’d had a good sleep.

His long-starved stomach, after eating, made him somewhat drowsy. After quietly yawning, Modun pinched his palm, using pain to remind himself to stay alert. He knew this was the most dangerous time—as long as he successfully escaped Wale Outpost, he could head straight for the royal court.

If not for the horse he’d stolen from the Yuezhi Kingdom dying from exhaustion, and needing to evade the Xiongnu cavalry hunting him, he wouldn’t have risked infiltrating Wale Outpost, which the Xiongnu cavalry dared not approach. Still, getting a meal was worth it. Modun had never known that hunger was a torture even harder to endure than pain.

From the corner of his eye, Modun glanced at the green-robed youth struggling with the armor before him. The dim lamplight cast soft shadows on his face. Even though they were from different peoples, Modun had to admit this youth was indeed extraordinarily handsome.

However, no matter how good his appearance, he wouldn’t survive tonight.

The young Minister acted as if he hadn’t seen the cold gleam in the other’s eyes, reorganizing his chaotic thoughts.

Someone like Modun, having set his mind on a goal, would be difficult to dissuade. Persuade him with classics and histories? He must already be well-versed in the hundred schools of thought, yet still firmly intended patricide and fratricide, proving that deep down he remained a lone wolf of the grasslands.

Though the young Minister’s heart scorned “these barbarians are truly savage,” he couldn’t help feeling a trace of envy.

If only… if only the First Emperor passed and Crown Prince ascended the throne, that would be best.

The young Minister’s expression darkened, knowing he had fallen into demonic obsession. The First Emperor possessed brilliant talent and grand strategies—a rare enlightened ruler in this world.

Perhaps because his own time was running out, he felt especially impatient.

At this moment, he somewhat understood why the First Emperor would pursue immortality by any means necessary.

The magnificent rivers and mountains of Great Qin had just been laid at his feet—how could he bear to willingly let them go to others?

No matter how much he dawdled with the armor, it was properly fastened within a quarter hour. The military officer armor was made of overlapping plates without padding, with a long body piece that looked somewhat short on Modun. With shoulder guards on both sides, Modun moved his arms, adjusted the armor’s fit, and indicated for the green-robed youth to help tie his hair.

Modun looked at him mockingly. A flash of suppressed anger crossed the green-robed youth’s eyes, but he still swallowed his pride and had him sit down, preparing to move behind him.

“This will suffice.” Modun moved the dagger in his hand, stopping the other’s action. How could he possibly leave his back completely undefended to an enemy?

The two sat facing each other. The green-robed youth straightened slightly and barely managed to tie his topknot.

Xiongnu people generally wore their hair loose. Modun moved his head uncomfortably, feeling his neck strangely cold with a chilling sensation—this drove all drowsiness away. Satisfied with this obedient captive, Modun bared his teeth and unceremoniously commanded: “Next, I need a horse.”

The young Minister’s expression only showed brief struggle before he lowered his eyes and stood, gesturing for him to follow.

Modun didn’t think the other had the ability to resist. If his character were unyielding, he would have cried out for help the instant he was taken hostage. The longer time dragged on, the more the person would surely value his life. Moreover, from the fact that he had a private tent, possessed military officer armor, and had abundant food, one could tell his status in the army wasn’t low. Yet because the tent was remote with no personal guards stationed outside, his position clearly wasn’t high enough that his disappearance would immediately attract attention. With his weak body lacking any combat ability, he was perfect for taking hostage.

Wale Outpost was now completely silent. Those who went on patrol hadn’t returned to camp, those resting had long fallen into slumber. The soldiers on alert duty within the outpost walked about with light footsteps, only whispers and the sound of wind rustling banners could be heard.

Modun, having changed into Qin army armor and wearing a Qin soldier’s topknot, wasn’t obviously distinguished by his high nose and deep-set eyes in the darkness. He looked no different from an ordinary Qin soldier. No one noticed that the crossbow he seemingly casually held was actually aimed at the youth walking before him.

With favorable timing, terrain, and circumstances, even cautious Modun felt that after twenty-two years of unfair treatment, he was finally receiving heaven’s favor. He didn’t notice the relaxed expression on the youth’s face ahead.

The young Minister truly wasn’t worried. Instead, he cheerfully led Prince Modun toward the stables at the outpost gate. Though alone in Wang Li’s army, several personal guards directly loyal to Fu Su always followed him. He had simply sent them farther away wanting to chat privately with Chaofeng and Yaoying. It hadn’t been long before he emerged from his tent with a stranger—anyone not foolish would notice the problem.

He just feared those guards couldn’t restrain themselves and would alert their target prematurely.

While pondering this, the young Minister negotiated with Modun behind him: “Your Highness said you’d spare my life—how can you guarantee it?”

Modun hadn’t actually considered this, but since the other raised it, and he hadn’t yet obtained a horse, he pretended to think seriously for a moment before speaking: “After leaving the outpost gate, once I reach an unpopulated area, I’ll let you leave.”

“I don’t believe you.” The young Minister simply stopped walking and smiled, shaking his head.

“You!” Modun was also forced to stop. Though both wore smiles, deadly intent lurked beneath. Despite his inner fury, Modun knew that if he caused a commotion here, he’d be captured within minutes, unable even to commit suicide. Suppressing his rage, Modun only thought briefly before saying gravely: “At a certain place, I’ll bind your hands and feet. I’ll ride backward on the warhorse as I leave. If you attempt to call for help, I’ll shoot this arrow.”

He raised his hand to indicate, sneering: “The arrow on your crossbow is a whistling arrow. Believe me, I don’t want to use it in the night either—its sound would be enough to expose my trail.”

The young Minister tilted his head thoughtfully, then reluctantly nodded.

Actually, he had no intention of letting Modun leave Wale Outpost at all. He had planned to confront Modun directly here—no matter how he might try to fly, escape would be difficult. Before the two reached the stables, however, an armored soldier actively approached leading a horse, his face stern as he performed a military salute: “Sir, are you leaving the outpost? The horse has been fed.”

The young Minister froze, looking aside to discover even the outpost gate had been opened in advance.

This was bad—did Wang Li know he’d been taken hostage? Was this compromise out of fear he’d be injured? How foolish!

Indignation rose in the young Minister’s heart, but what remained was an indescribable sense of being moved.

“It seems you’re far more important than I estimated.”

Modun beside him instantly understood. He swept up the still-dazed green-robed youth, vaulted onto the horse’s back in one motion, and with extraordinary horsemanship controlled the warhorse to gallop wildly out of Wale Outpost, laughing wildly: “Stay five hundred paces away, or we’ll perish together.”

Of course, in both their hearts, who was the jade and who was the stone had completely different definitions.