Chapter 423: The Royal Court of Tuyu Hun, Xiahou Fuyun

Fusi City.

The evening heat had not fully faded, yet the great hall of the Royal Court was soaked with the coolness emanating from an ice mirror.

The hall's ceiling, a yak‑hide dome, bore multicolored feathered banners that swayed gently with the draft, fragmenting the torchlight on the walls into fine specks that fell upon the dozen or so dancing maidens in the hall.

They all wore floor‑sweeping scarlet silk skirts, the hems embroidered with winding honeysuckle patterns; as they moved, the skirts brushed the smooth Qingshi slabs, the rustling mingling with the silk‑and‑bamboo music from the hall's corners.

The lead dancer had tiny Turquoise set in her hair; as she spun, the golden bells on her earrings chimed lightly, harmonizing with the clear flute and the gentle pipa.

Her arms stretched like slender willows, the Red Silk twirled at her fingertips with the dance, at times like flowing clouds encircling her, at others like a startled swan sweeping the hall.

A silver belt at her waist jingled, making her waist appear as soft as boneless.

The other dancers formed a circle, lightly spinning to the drumbeat, the arcs of their skirts rising like blooming lotus flowers.

On the main seat of the hall, Khan Tuyu Hun Xiahou Fuyun reclined obliquely on a couch covered with white deer hide, his fingertips idly tracing the gilt wine cup on the low table before him.

His gaze, however, was fixed on the dancing figures in the hall; the faint frown on his brows had already relaxed, and the corners of his eyes were soaked with amusement.

"Not bad, not bad!"

Seeing the lead dancer spin, the Red Silk like clouds and the golden bells trembling lightly, he involuntarily straightened his posture, a low sigh escaping his throat: "Such looks, such figure, such dance—truly elegant!"

Seated in the lower seat, Xiahou Da leaned slightly forward, hands clasped on his knees, his face piled with overtly flattering smiles, the lines at the corners of his eyes compressed into a knot: "As long as Father Khan likes it!"

"These are what a son‑minister should do!"

Xiahou Da deliberately selected the most skilled dancer, even hired Western Regions musicians for days of training, hoping to win a smile from his Father Khan...

Xiahou Fuyun pinched the gilt wine cup and brought it to his lips; the amber‑colored liquor slid down his throat, his Adam's apple gently rolling, and he slowly nodded: "Da'er, you're thoughtful!"

He truly is his most beloved son.

Upon hearing that, Xiahou Da's smile blossomed instantly like a flower opened by spring wind, becoming even richer and more vivid.

He hurriedly straightened his back, lifting his previously slightly lowered head even higher; the shrewd gleam in his eyes sparkled, full of pride and flattery.

"The son‑minister also found some Jiangnan women with clear, ringing voices..."

He first bowed and responded, his voice carrying a jubilant inflection, then leaned forward, deliberately lowering his volume yet still clear enough for Xiahou Fuyun on the main seat to hear: "When the time comes at Fusi, we will present it to Father Khan!"

To please Father Khan and solidify his standing in the Father's eyes, Xiahou Da had indeed exhausted himself...

Those Jiangnan women were all bought with heavy money.

Each, when singing, sounded more beautiful than a golden oriole!

Xiahou Fuyun's fingertips lightly brushed the rim of the wine cup, and he raised his voice in praise: "Very, very good!"

He spoke, but his gaze, as if magnetized, remained fixed on the lead dancer in the hall.

Watching her spin, her waist bent lightly, the fluttering skirt revealing a slender figure; seeing her lift her eyes, the dazzling look in her gaze, his Adam's apple involuntarily rolled hard.

He silently swallowed a mouthful of saliva, his eyes swirling with unabashed greed and heat.

Tonight, I shall savor it properly!

Seated in the lower seat, Zhao Xufeng furrowed his brows into knots, his fingertips unconsciously picking at his sleeve cuff; the graceful dances and pleasant silk‑and‑bamboo music in the hall were, to him, as if nonexistent.

His face, full of Gouhe, was piled only with inescapable worry.

His gaze flicked several times toward Xiahou Fuyun on the main seat, then repeatedly dropped, clearly tangled inside.

Finally, he sprang up, clasped his fists and bowed, breaking the hall's merriment: "Great Khan, it has been over a month since the Crown Prince's side, and no word has returned..."

"Shall we send someone to investigate?"

As soon as the words fell, the dancing maidens in the hall all froze, the Red Silk hanging mid‑air, the lingering sound of the golden bells gradually fading.

The musicians at the hall's side hurriedly stopped playing, the flute lifted from the lips, the pipa strings muted, and the entire great hall instantly fell into silence.

Xiahou Fuyun's smile faded instantly, he cast a sidelong glance at Zhao Xufeng, a light hum escaping his nostrils, his tone full of indifference: "What's there to investigate?"

"My seven thousand elite warriors move like the wind, and with the Tongtian Society's internal‑external coordination, what could possibly happen?"

Before the words finished, he turned his head, opened his mouth to catch a grape offered by a nearby maid with a silver pin, his teeth lightly biting, juice splattering.

He then chewed nonchalantly, his gaze returning to the rigid lead dancer, the earlier worry seeming just an inconsequential breeze.

"Exactly!"

Xiahou Da lifted the wine cup before him, tipped his head back and gulped a large mouthful, letting the liquor run down his lips without care, then set the cup down, his voice booming as he echoed: "My Great Tuyu Hun's seven thousand elite Iron Cavalry ride out, flatten Hezhou of Zhou State, is that not as easy as a palm‑sweep?"

Having said that, he proudly lifted his chin, his gaze full of certainty.

"But on Zhou State's side, the one they sent is Chen Yan!"

Zhao Xufeng, seeing this, furrowed his brows even tighter, the wrinkles at his temples deepening, again clasped his fists and bowed, his waist bending even lower, his voice filled with lingering worry: "That is a renowned general among Zhou State's younger generation..."

He paused, his tone growing heavier, his complexion becoming exceedingly solemn: "Renowned for cunning tactics, he has never suffered defeat in any campaign!"

As a senior minister, Zhao Xufeng paid great attention to news about Zhou State...

This individual is a presence more terrifying than the vast majority of Zhou State's older generals!

Moreover, one could say that aside from his youth, he has virtually no flaw...

Just as he popped a grape into his mouth, hearing the name "Chen Yan," a short snicker escaped his throat, then he turned his head and spat the grape seed onto the woolen rug laid in the hall.

His eyebrows arched high, his eyes filled with unabashed contempt.

"Chen Yan?"

He leisurely repeated the name, dragging the final syllable extremely long, as if hearing a colossal joke, "Just a wet‑nosed brat!"

Having said that, he lifted his hand and patted the low table, his tone of disdain nearly spilling over: "Not long ago wasn't the Crown Prince driving his troops, chasing them away like a dead dog..."

He paused, deliberately deepening his tone, "Such a person worthy of being called a famed general?"

As the words fell, he opened his mouth again to catch the grape offered by the maid, his chewing done with a hint of nonchalance.

Xiahou Fuyun had read the battle report sent by the Crown Prince; otherwise why dispatch an additional three thousand Iron Cavalry as reinforcement?

Because they intended to utterly crush that dead dog!

Xiahou Da's face immediately piled with contempt mirroring Xiahou Fuyun's, he curled his lip and continued: "Chen Yan, that yellow‑mouth child, hasn't fought any real…"

"Absolutely not worth worrying about!"

Having said that, his eyes flicked, and he immediately stepped forward, his gaze blazing as he looked at Xiahou Fuyun, solemnly clasping his hands and saying, "Father Great Khan, when we launch the next campaign against Zhou State, please let your son go, and I will surely crush the Zhou Army for you!"

This chance to earn military merit for oneself must not be missed......

Xiahou Da also fixed his eyes on that Khan seat; he could not let Xiahou Shun outpace him in military merit.

A flash of brilliance instantly lit Xiahou Fuyun's eyes, wiping away his previously indifferent demeanor; he struck the low table heavily and laughed aloud, "Truly worthy of being the son of this Khan!"

"What ambition!"

A smile spread along the lines at the corner of his eyes; his gaze at Xiahou Da was full of approval, and he immediately declared, "Next time the command will be yours!"

Xiahou Da's eyes shone like burning torches, and his earlier flattery turned entirely into an uncontainable elation.

He sprang to his feet, lifted the hem of his Brothel, bowed deeply, and his voice trembled with excitement, "Thank you, Father Great Khan! I shall not betray your trust and expectations!"

Zhao Xufeng's heart grew heavier, his brows nearly twisted into a knot, and fine cold sweat seeped onto his forehead.

Ignoring the joyous atmosphere in the hall, he stepped forward again, knees slightly bent, clasped his fists, and urged urgently, "Great Khan, you must not be careless, do not underestimate the enemy!"

Xiahou Fuyun's brows lifted sharply, his approval replaced by impatience; he raised his hand and slammed the low table, saying gravely, "We shall await the good news from the Crown Prince to return!"

As soon as the words fell, his knuckles whitened; recalling old matters, his tone suddenly turned teeth‑gritted, his eyes swirling with fierce hatred, "The debt of that old scoundrel Chen Hu must be repaid to Zhou State a thousand‑fold!"

Even after many years, the memory still makes his teeth ache with hatred.....

If they ever capture Chen Yan alive, they will surely humiliate him.

To vent the hatred in their hearts!

Zhao Xufeng's complexion turned ashen, and in his haste he leaned forward half a step, shouting with a hint of burning urgency, "Great Khan....."

The admonition that had just reached his tongue was abruptly cut off.

Xiahou Fuyun's impatience exploded in his eyes; he slammed his hand down and barked, "No more words needed!"

He then turned to the side of the hall, his tone suddenly softened, and he laughed, "Continue the music, continue the dance!"

He does not wish his refined mood to be disturbed.

Such a fine day and beautiful scenery must be savored.....

As the words fell, the dancers who had been frozen for a long time quickly readjusted their posture, Red Silk fluttered again, and golden bells chimed lightly once more.

The musicians hurriedly grabbed their instruments, and the clear tone of the transverse flute, the gentle melody of the pipa, and the rhythm of the drum filled the main hall, forcibly suppressing the earlier solemn atmosphere.

Seeing this, Xiahou Da immediately lifted the gilded wine cup before him, his face again plastered with a flattering smile, and shouted toward the seat, "Father Great Khan, I toast to you!"

Xiahou Fuyun's stern expression faded considerably; he took his own cup, smiled and replied, "Very well, father and son shall drink together!"

Both raised their heads and drank to the bottom at the same time, and the music and dancing in the hall grew ever more joyous.

Zhao Xufeng watched this scene, his lips moving, but ultimately he swallowed the remaining words, let out a heavy sigh, and helplessly bowed his head and returned to his seat.

Just as the song and dance flourished, a rapid footfall suddenly came from outside the hall, accompanied by the rustling "whalla" of the curtain being lifted, and the minister Shi Zhen staggered in.

His hair was disheveled, the hem of his robe covered in dust, and even his shoes were half‑askew, clearly having rushed here at full speed.

Shi Zhen's face turned as pale as paper, his lips trembling, his breathing ragged, and he rushed into the hall, collapsing with a "thud" to kneel on the ground, his voice shaking almost out of tune, "Great... Great Khan... great... great trouble!"

"What is the matter that makes you so frantic?"

Xiahou Fuyun was extremely displeased: "How disgraceful!"

Shi Zhen lay on the ground, his forehead pressed against the cold floor, his body trembling like a sieve, his voice full of panic and despair, "Zhou State's seven thousand cavalry are now less than twenty li from our Fusi City!"

Xiahou Fuyun's smile froze instantly, then his complexion drained of color, leaving only a pallid white.

He abruptly sat up straight, staring intently at the kneeling Shi Zhen, his pupils shrinking like needles, his tone filled with incredulous astonishment, "Seven thousand cavalry?"

"Seven thousand cavalry?!"

He slammed the low table hard, the gilded wine cup clanged loudly, his voice suddenly rose, tinged with frantic howls, "Where did Zhou State summon such speed, bringing so many cavalry?!"

"…even entered our territory?!"