“Adoptive father, try this ginger tea, it’s…” Mao Haifeng was enthusiastically urging Wang Zhi to taste the tea when footsteps interrupted, followed by a drawn-out “Report!” from outside the tent.
Mao’s face darkened. He knew that voice too well—it was his trusted aide, sent to challenge Zhu Ping’an.
Bloody hell, back already?!
In the Three Kingdoms, Cao Cao warmed wine, Guan Yu rode out, slew Hua Xiong, and returned with the wine still warm. But you? You left to challenge Zhu Ping’an, I’m pouring tea for the king, it’s still scalding, and he hasn’t even taken a sip!
Faster than Guan Yu slaying Hua Xiong?!
I told you to be quick, but not *this* quick! Why are you back so soon?
This isn’t a good sign.
Did you botch it? Get turned away? Didn’t even see Zhu Ping’an and got chased off?
You said that token would get you through Zhejiang, yet you couldn’t even reach their gate!
Thinking of the boasts he’d made to Wang Zhi, Mao Haifeng’s face fell. Zhu Ping’an, you’re making me lose face, you know that? This could have serious consequences!
Want to recruit my adoptive father? Good luck with this attitude.
“That voice sounds familiar—your man, just sent out, right? Back so soon? Probably got driven off by the Zhejiang army! Quick, bring him in, let’s hear what happened,” Xue Tao said, his ears sharp, barely containing his glee.
This was too good. Xue urged the messenger to enter.
“Come in,” Mao Haifeng gritted his teeth, forced to let the aide in.
Sure enough, it was the man he’d just dispatched.
“Why are you back so fast? Zhu Ping’an not in camp?” Mao asked, his tone suggestive, hoping for a tactful answer to save face.
“Heard me? Answer carefully, keep it vague, don’t make me look too bad.”
“Zhu Ping’an’s in camp,” the aide blurted.
“Hah, then why’re you back so quick? Got chased off?” Xue Tao jumped in.
“No. I went to the Zhejiang camp, showed the token, and their gate opened. Hearing my purpose, they took me straight to Zhu Ping’an’s command tent. I relayed the leader’s words on the spot.”
“And what did Zhu Ping’an say?” Xue Tao asked eagerly.
“Good,” the aide replied.
“Good what? I asked what Zhu Ping’an said!” Xue Tao glared, repeating himself.
“After I spoke, he didn’t even think, just said ‘Good,’” the aide clarified.
“He didn’t think and said ‘Good’?!” Mao Haifeng stood, thrilled.
Zhu Ping’an, true to form! I thought he’d need an hour to respond, but he exceeded my expectations, accepting the challenge instantly.
Mao felt his pride restored.
“Yes, didn’t think, just said ‘Good,’” the aide repeated.
“Hah, adoptive father, I thought Zhu Ping’an would take an hour to reply, but he was so quick, beyond my expectations,” Mao chuckled to Wang Zhi.
“His ambition is indeed great,” Wang Zhi nodded. “I like dealing with bold, ambitious people.”
“Hah, good! He beat Nephew Haifeng once and thinks he’s invincible. Perfect, I was worried he’d refuse, making my victory hollow. He’s accepted, so tomorrow I’ll show him the sky’s limits. If I don’t make him question his life, my name’s not Xue!” Xue Tao boasted smugly.
Then, remembering something, he turned to the aide, “Go back. We forgot to set a time—morning or afternoon? Fix a specific hour.”
“No need. Zhu Ping’an said sooner’s better. Tomorrow after breakfast, at 8:45 a.m., the Zhejiang army will send 1,000 men across the river to fight. He asks our camp to pull the gate back 100 metres for battle space. He said an early fight won’t delay lunch, when he’ll share wine with the king and discuss matters,” the aide replied.
“Zhu Ping’an’s got guts, sending troops across the river. If he loses, those 1,000 won’t retreat easily over that narrow bridge. His ambition, as Haifeng said, exceeds my imagination. No ordinary man,” Wang Zhi said, stunned again by Zhu’s boldness, nodding in admiration.
“Zhu Ping’an’s wildly ambitious,” Mao Haifeng echoed.
“I’m looking forward to meeting him,” Wang Zhi said softly, sipping his hot tea.
“Young and reckless. Tomorrow, I’ll make him pay dearly,” Xue Tao snorted, boasting.
“Don’t underestimate him, Uncle Xue. Zhu Ping’an’s Zhejiang army, though newly recruited, isn’t weak, especially their firearms. Prepare well. I’ve got armour in camp—need me to allocate some?” Mao reminded Xue, offering help.
He didn’t want to warn the old fool, but with Wang Zhi present, if Xue lost and blamed Mao for not warning him, it’d look bad. Having fought the Zhejiang army, Mao had to speak up.
“Hah, Nephew Haifeng, relax. We’ve got more firearms than the government troops, and I know how to handle them. Armour? No need. You just lost, probably short on gear yourself. I’ll borrow from old mates—everyone’ll have armour. Tomorrow, watch how I avenge you!” Xue Tao waved dismissively, scoffing at the defeated Mao’s advice and “cursed” armour.
Perfect.
Just what Mao wanted.
He forced down a smirk. “Tomorrow, I’ll watch closely and learn.”
