Chapter 353: Still, the horse

Aersi Leng stared at the collapsed Wolf-head Tent, the furious Bateer and the utterly drunk Jifeng, and already understood a few points.

"Outsiders, step back!" he barked, striding up to Bateer, right hand on his chest, "Great Prince His Highness, I come by the Great Khan's order to inspect. May I ask…"

"Ask? Need to ask?" Bateer pointed toward where Jifeng was being helped away, "Jifeng! He shot down my King's Tent!"

"Everyone saw it! This is murder! This is rebellion! Why haven't you seized him yet!"

Aersi Leng's expression unchanged: "Please calm your anger, Your Highness. This involves both princes; I will report immediately to the Great Khan for his judgment."

Having said that, he left a squad to help clear the mess, and taking another squad, turned and headed for the Golden Tent.

Menggen listened to his report, then remained silent for a moment.

Aersi Leng dared not lift his head to look at his face, his palms slightly sweating.

The Second Prince's action was truly too rash.

The Great Khan will surely fly into a rage.

However, the next moment.

"Heh heh… hahaha!" Menggen's hearty laugh suddenly burst out.

Aersi Leng jerked his head up, staring at him in shock—was the Great Khan furious?

After a moment, Menggen stopped laughing and said softly, "Just like when I was young!"

"A Grassland Wolf…"

"Go on. Tomorrow, after Jifeng sobers up, bring both of them to see me."

"Yes."

Aersi Leng withdrew.

Xiao Er was like a shadow in the night, closely following Jiang Heng.

Jiang Heng was extremely alert, looping around the tangled felt tents.

He deliberately chose shaded paths and little-used tracks, occasionally turning back suddenly or pretending to adjust his boots to observe behind.

Ordinary guards would have long been shaken off by him.

Unfortunately, the one he met was the head guard of the Ning Prince's Mansion, Xiao Er.

Xiao Er kept his distance, his breath almost blending with the night wind.

Finally, after circling most of the Royal City, Jiang Heng darted into an inconspicuous gray old tent.

The tent was extremely ordinary, no different from the herdsmen's own.

Xiao Er hid behind a pile of fodder a dozen steps away, waiting patiently for about the time it takes to finish a cup of tea.

The tent flap was lifted again.

Jiang Heng came out, holding an empty wooden bucket, as if to fetch water.

Since the lair was known, Xiao Er hesitated no longer, striking directly to pin him to the ground.

Xiao Er asked in a low voice, "Who are you? Where do you come from?"

Jiang Heng smiled, then clenched his teeth fiercely.

Xiao Er sensed something wrong, but it was too late; blood trickled from Jiang Heng's mouth, and in an instant he fell silent.

Xiao Er quickly dragged him into the shadow of a nearby cart, reached behind his ear, pinched the edge with two fingers—sure enough! Another human-skin mask!

Beneath the mask was revealed a youthful face no older than twenty.

Damn it! Where did all these assassins come from!

Xiao Er frowned, then immediately turned back and rushed to that gray old tent.

Inside the tent was empty except for the most ordinary felt mat, a low table, and a simple hearth already stone cold.

He quickly searched it through, lifting every felt mat and tapping every inch of the ground.

Finally, in the ashes of the hearth he found a corner of unburned paper.

Xiao Er carefully gathered the paper fragment and left the tent.

The next afternoon, Jifeng arrived outside the Golden Tent.

He had changed into a clean robe, his hair neatly combed, though his face still bore the grogginess of a hangover.

He shouted loudly, "Jifeng has come specially to apologize to the Great Khan!"

From inside the tent came Menggen's voice: "Come in."

Jifeng strode into the Golden Tent, Bateer already standing at the lower seat with a deathly pale face.

"Father Khan!" Bateer blurted out, "Last night Jifeng clearly intended revenge!"

"He destroyed my King's Tent in public, broke my Royal Banner, and treated the Royal Court's authority as nothing! Please, Father Khan, punish him severely to uphold the law!"

Jifeng dropped to one knee, his face piled with remorse: "Great Khan! I've been locked up these days; yesterday, upon release, I felt happy and drank a few extra bowls, getting drunk and muddled!"

"In a hazy view I saw a black shadow circling Bateer's tent top, took it for some blind vulture, and shot the arrow."

"I truly didn't know it was the King's Tent then! Even if I knew, I wouldn't dare even with a hundred guts!"

"I am willing to compensate Bateer's loss! Please, Great Khan, reprimand me."

"You're talking nonsense!" Bateer snapped, "A vulture? Where would a vulture come from at night!"

"Those few arrows of yours could snap flagpoles and ropes—could a drunkard do that? You clearly did it on purpose!"

"Bateer, you're being unreasonable!" Jifeng protested, "I have no other skill; this archery is my livelihood from the Longevity Heavenly Reward—even dead drunk my hand would still be true!"

"I really just misjudged it!"

The two went back and forth, and an argument erupted.

Bateer insisted Jifeng had acted intentionally, while Jifeng maintained he was drunk and confused, and they shouted at each other without end.

"Enough."

Menggen finally spoke, and the tent instantly fell silent.

His gaze swept slowly over the faces of his two sons.

"Drunken Archery remains undiminished," Menggen looked at Jifeng, "your archery has improved quite a bit."

Bateer's face turned pale at the words.

Both brothers started learning archery at four, but his horsemanship and archery could never compare to Jifeng's.

Jifeng lowered his head, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes.

What does the Great Khan's remark mean?

Hmph, who cares what it means; at worst I'll be locked up for a few more months!

"However," Menggen shifted his tone, "destroying the King's Tent and disturbing the Royal Court is ultimately your fault, Jifeng."

"Yes."

"Starting today, within ten days, you are not to touch a drop of alcohol."

"Sober up properly from your drink!"

Jifeng replied listlessly, "Oh! Yes!"

He secretly rejoiced; the punishment was as light as a tickle.

"Father Khan!" Bateer exclaimed, what kind of punishment is this? Are you just letting him off so lightly?

"Bateer," Menggen's face darkened, "you were frightened last night, and your tent was destroyed."

"I award you a hundred taels of gold to rebuild the Wolf-head Tent."

"This matter ends here."

"Father Khan!" Bateer, incredulous, lifted his head to look at Menggen, face flushed, "How can you let him off so easily..."

"I am tired." Menggen interrupted him, closing his eyes, revealing a hint of fatigue.

"From now on, I do not wish to see such things again."

"Brotherly discord makes the Royal Court a laughingstock to outsiders."

"If your eyes are always fixed on your brothers' tent tops, you will never see where the true wolves hide."

He waved his hand: "All of you, withdraw."

Bateer clenched his fists tightly, ultimately daring not to argue, he glared fiercely at Jifeng, then turned and strode out of the Golden Tent.

Jifeng also followed, bowing before exiting.

Outside the Golden Tent, the sunlight was blinding.

He stretched a big yawn; no trace of listlessness remained on his face, the corners of his mouth turned up in a carefree smile.

Ten days without alcohol? A hundred taels of gold?

The Great Khan's heart today is truly intriguing in its partiality.

At the same time, Xiao Ningxun was carefully examining the slip of paper Xiao Er had brought back.

He gave a faint smile: "This Central Plains fellow who hides his head and shows his tail has still revealed his hoof."