Chapter 40: The Stormy Weather of the Teaching Grounds

  The yellow sand rose from the ground, slapping against the cold armor of the crowd. Qing Xia stood behind Yang Feng, as if all the cold wind that blew onto her body had already warmed up a bit.

  Chu Li stood on the platform, gazing down at the low-ranking soldier standing upright below, his eyes cold as frost, holding a horse whip with the handle slanting towards Yang Feng, saying in a deep voice: "You continue speaking."

  "Though my position is humble, I dare not forget my duty to the state. Your Highness, who once spent ten years as a hostage in another country to save our nation from danger, today I am willing to offer my life's blood and head to serve our great Chu. When our great Chu rises again, it will be the day I close my eyes in death. I request that you dispatch me to scout out the southern border, to pave the way for the iron cavalry of Southern Chu!"

  The sonorous words fell on the sandy training ground, and everyone's eyes were fixed on Yang Feng with different expressions. The treacherous and dangerous place in Nanjiang was well-known to every person from South Chu. Nanjiang is vast in territory and rich in products, but over the years, several times when South Chu sent troops, they could not conquer Nanjiang. The reason lies not in whether Nanjiang has many soldiers or sufficient reserves, but because that place is full of poisonous insects, with a fierce folk custom, and extremely dangerous terrain, where one can easily be annihilated if not careful.

  Suddenly, Qing Xia seemed to know what the man was going to do, a strong sense of foreboding rose up in her heart, and sandstorms flew up, instantly blinding Qing Xia's eyes.

  "Do you know, I've already sent out over thirty teams of scouts, with more than nine hundred people, yet not one has returned alive from the southern border. So, do you still want to go?" Chu Li's voice was low and heavy, but it echoed clearly across the vast training grounds, carrying a sense of oppressive weight. The crowd held its breath, waiting for the response of this young Wu Chang who seemed oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

  "I am willing!" Yang Feng lifted the front of his armor and knelt on one knee, saying loudly: "Sharing worries for the country, righteousness does not allow refusal!"

  "Huh?" Chu Li hummed softly and said in a deep voice: "Then what makes you think I should believe you, that you can surpass the 900 scouts from our country who have received regular training, that you can bring back useful intelligence, and that you can return safely from Nanjiang?"

  "Because I am from the southern border." Yang Feng suddenly raised his head, a pair of eyes as hard as iron, with a stubborn and sharp edge, "I'm not going to be a spy, just returning home."

  "Haha! Well said, just a simple return to one's hometown!" A loud laughter suddenly burst into the sky, Qing Xia stood stunned in the midst of a hundred thousand-strong army, looking at the young emperor who was always gloomy and mysterious, rarely speaking, and couldn't imagine that he would also have such an expression of loud laughter. Chu Li said with a heroic tone: "You have courage, you have brains, being just a small Wu Chang is really a waste of your talent."

  At this point, Chu Li's expression suddenly turned cold and his voice became icy as he said: "However, you have extraordinary abilities but are impatient for quick success and don't know the way of moderation. You don't understand how to protect yourself with wisdom or the philosophy of handling matters in the military camp. In seeking rapid advancement, you offend many people. It seems that your time spent in the army is still too short and you need more tempering. Last night, someone said I was unclear about good and evil, and didn't distinguish between rewards and punishments. Today, I will have both rewards and punishments. You dare to speak directly, every sentence hitting the nail on the head, having courage and insight, I reward you with 100 taels of gold, 10 fine horses, and three boxes of brocade. But your words are rash, your tone arrogant, not showing respect for your superior general, which is disrespect and unrighteousness. I punish you by demoting you one rank, removing your position as Small Squad Leader, and having you stand guard in front of the camp for a month at night. Can you accept this?"

  "What Your Highness said is absolutely right, I completely agree!" Yang Feng replied in a deep voice, without any hesitation.

  Chu Li smiled faintly as she looked at Yang Feng, saying: "You're not bad. If you have the ability to make me notice you again next time, I'll give you a chance to tell me your name."

  As soon as the words fell, everyone suddenly buzzed and Yang Feng knelt on one knee, responding loudly: "Thank you for your great kindness, Your Highness!"

  "That's enough, General Hou! Let's start training our troops!"

  "Yes!" Hou Yong shouted loudly, jumping forward and mounting his horse with a loud crash. With his sword held horizontally, he shouted sternly: "Form ranks!"

  Yang Feng stood up, quickly grabbed Qing Xia's reins and led him back into the camp. All worries were apparently unnecessary as Qing Xia returned to the camp when the sky had already darkened. Yang Feng sat on a felt mat, repeatedly polishing a short sword in his hand, Qing Xia suddenly walked forward, snatched the short sword away, and said in a low voice: "I will settle my own affairs myself, you and I are not related, there is no need to take such a great risk for me."

  Yang Feng raised his head, slightly raising an eyebrow and said lightly: "I just want to get some opportunities to show off in front of the Crown Prince, it has nothing to do with you."

  "Don't think you can fool me!" Qing Xia shouted, saying: "You want to go to Nanjiang as a scout, isn't it just to find an excuse for me to escape halfway?"

  Seeing Yang Feng hanging his head in silence, Qing Xia squatted down and said seriously: "Yang Feng, you've helped me a lot, I'm very grateful to you."

  "No need." Yang Feng shook his head, his voice slightly low. "You're fine as you are."

  "We've only known each other for a day," Qing Xia said in a low voice, "yet you've saved me multiple times. What I did to save you that day was just a trivial matter, but now if things go wrong, it's a crime punishable by destruction of one's entire family."

  "I have no home to return to."

  "So you won't take revenge? You won't save your benefactor?"

  Yang Feng suddenly lifted his head, staring straight into Qing Xia's eyes. Inside, there was an inexplicable undercurrent slowly surging.

  "Listen, I have a way to deal with it myself, I don't want to drag you into this."

  "I'm in a humble position, with no power or influence, even if I want to help, I won't be able to, I'll do what I can within my limits, you're thinking too much." Yang Feng suddenly stood up, clanking sounds of armor echoed, and he walked out.

  "Where are you going?" Qing Xia shouted loudly.

  "I was punished to be a guard, did you forget?"

  The man's figure gradually disappeared into the dark night, Qing Xia stood still, raised her head, but didn't know what she was doing.

  A single lamp was like a bean, the night wind was very cold, the curtain was lifted, and Qing Xia couldn't help but shiver.

  Yang Feng returned late at night, his whole body clad in cold black iron armor like ice. Qing Xia was curled up in the felt blanket, and now she had removed her whiskers, revealing a clean white chin, her small body wrapped in military uniform, looking as elegant and refined as a lotus flower out of water.

  Yang Feng's movements involuntarily paused, carefully removing his armor, trying not to make a sound. Seeing Qing Xia had no reaction, he felt relieved and walked over to the brazier, adding some charcoal before sitting down beside it.

  The night in the barracks seems to be always so quiet, and the long melody hummed by the soldiers' low-pitched voices occasionally echoes in the cold wind, which sounds like a Mongolian long tune, but also has a sense of sadness unique to soldiers.

  Yang Feng pulled out a copper wine jug from his waist, tilted his head and poured it down, the clear liquor flowing from the corner of his mouth, slowly flowing into his neck. His ancient bronze-colored skin glowed with a healthy luster under the lamp light. His narrow eyes were slightly narrowed, his sword-like eyebrows tightly furrowed, and he leaned on a silver long spear. Yang Feng poured himself drink after drink, occasionally stirring the fiery charcoal fire.

  The tent was warm as spring inside, but outside it was blowing a cold and fierce wind. From time to time, the long calls of soldiers could be heard coming from afar.

  That's the tune passed down through generations in South Chu, with lyrics sung in the dialect of the south. The tune is a bit off-key, but Yang Feng can still make out that it's about a man who rode his horse to battle and didn't return for ten years. After ten years, all his comrades-in-arms had died, and he himself became a general, but when he returned home, his wife had run off with someone else, and his father and son had long since starved to death. Standing in the empty, desolate courtyard, listening to the cry of a solitary wild goose in the distance, he wept for the first time.

  The general dies in a hundred battles, the brave warrior returns after ten years. An ordinary commoner, who is willing to fight?

  He tilted his head back and took another swig of wine, Yang Feng slightly closed his eyes, leaning against the pillar of the camp tent, one hand propping up his gun, the other hanging by his side. The remaining wine in the jug flowed out along his wrist, gurgling softly, and was heated by the charcoal fire, evaporating instantly, filling the entire room with a strong smell of alcohol.

  He has never been good at drinking and gets drunk with just a little bit of alcohol.

  The room was quiet, with only the charcoal fire burning fiercely, occasionally crackling and popping. Qing Xia's eyelashes trembled slightly, finally closing slowly, with a hint of exhaustion weighing heavily on her heart.

  Night falls, gradually deepening.