Chapter 401: You, hurry up and go sell your charms!

I already said it's just a few steps away—stop always messing with that 'pass'!

That really looks ridiculous!

Forget it, forget it.

The whole world has sunk to this state, and I no longer care how absurd it becomes.

Ouyang An softly sighed in his heart, turned sideways, and squeezed through the door of the broken thatched hut that could barely fit one person.

As soon as he stepped inside, they stood face to face.

The two or three hundred guards who followed Shi Er had brought few belongings when they arrived; now they can only stay outside, using the sky as a blanket and the ground as a bed, cooking their meals on the spot, in a miserable state.

Yet this place is a rare refuge on Heishishan.

Although there is only a broken bed, a half-ruined stove, and the floor is stained with large patches of greasy grime of unknown origin...

But once inside, even the ever-present wind howl of Heishishan grew much fainter.

Ouyang An left Yongzhou at the end of last year; although he still has some silver, he dares not be ostentatious, so aside from using it to win people over, he never reveals it openly, nor does he dare to buy anything for himself.

Normally it's fine, and the southern lands aren't that cold, but unfortunately this winter he wound up on Heishishan.

The mountain already endures bitter cold winds and lacks clothing and food, making this winter inevitably harsh.

Clad lightly, he saw that upon entering the hut he was no longer exposed to the cold wind, and he originally wanted to take a half breath, relax a little, then discuss the main matter.

But unfortunately, as soon as he looked up, he met Shi Er's face, black as a pot's bottom.

Shi Er seemingly does not feel that being driven here like a drowned dog by the King of An Nan, barely managing to save his life and finding a place to stay, is already a great fortune.

His whole person appears, to the naked eye, as frenzied as a dying beast.

Shi Er sat on a pile of dry straw; though only thirty years old, an age when he should be vigorous and commanding a region, he now looks so disheveled as to bear no resemblance to his former self.

At a glance, a heavy, violent aura surged forth, mingled with the mountain's dampness and a heavy sense of exhaustion and decadence.

Inside the hut, the silence was oppressive—no lamps, no movement—yet it harbored a restlessness and madness on the verge of exploding.

Ouyang An stopped at the hut's entrance, lowered his eyes slightly, and spoke respectfully:

"Your Highness."

Shi Er had already heard the voice, but did not answer right away.

His sideburns were now tangled and dry, his eyes filled with red bloodshot lines, yet he still did not want to lightly abandon his former dignity.

He, he was merely defeated in his bid for power.

Although he fell from power in an instant, all his lifelong schemes came to nothing...

But he remains the former Crown Prince who could summon wind and rain at will.

Although, in his frantic flight after defeat, he ruthlessly abandoned his wife and children, severing all ties to save himself, fleeing here...

But he has never regretted it; he only hates that his plans were flawed, his move off by one, and that heaven toyed with him, leaving him to lose everything.

"How did you come here?"

Shi Er's voice was hoarse and dry, as if rubbed by gravel, laden with suppressed anger and decadence.

Ouyang An did not answer his question, lifted his gaze to this former Crown Prince at the end of his rope, his expression respectful, his tone flat yet striking straight at the heart, and spoke slowly:

"Your Highness, do you really want to turn things around?"

That one sentence precisely struck the deepest obsession in Shi Er's heart.

Upon hearing this, Shi Er's tightly coiled emotions exploded instantly; he jerked his spine straight, his eyes turned blood-red, his chest heaved violently, and his tone brimmed with indignation and unwillingness, laced with strong sarcasm:

"If you were me, holding half a lifetime's power and countless schemes, only to lose it all in an instant and become a stray dog, wouldn't you want to turn things around?"

Every word he spoke was heavy with anger, every sentence full of unwillingness.

The humiliation of failure, the wretchedness of his plight, his obsession with power, his yearning for a comeback...

All of it condensed into this single retort, echoing in the ruined hut, full of the madness of a cornered beast still fighting.

Yet this so-called unwillingness contains not a single word of guilt toward the implicated wife, children, and retainers.

He is merely unwilling to lose the power within his grasp, unwilling to see his lifelong schemes come to naught, unwilling to fall from the clouds into the mire.

Ouyang An listened quietly, his expression unchanged, yet deep down he inevitably felt a faint disdain—

This person is obstinate and utilitarian.

At a glance, it's clear he cannot achieve great things.

As it turns out, between different masters...

there is also a great difference.

He had something on his mind, but he showed nothing on his face, still maintaining a humble and respectful demeanor, lowering his eyes and speaking softly:

"Then I may have a plan; I hope you will not hesitate to listen."

As these words fell, the tense, oppressive atmosphere inside the hut suddenly thickened.

Shi Er's whole body shuddered; his previously agitated, crazy gaze instantly locked, fixed firmly on Ouyang An—

This younger brother used to be unnoticed in An Nan, but ever since he helped gather a batch of salt at the end of last winter, relieving an urgent need—

He then increasingly felt that this younger brother bore some resemblance to the former Fifth Brother in demeanor.

The Fifth Brother died mysteriously while away on business, but having a 'Little Fifth Brother' at his side is also sufficient!

Now the other party says he has an idea—

The hostility in his eyes faded largely, replaced by intense hope and eagerness, mixed with the wild joy and probing of grasping at a straw in desperation.

Shi Er stared fixedly at the youth, silently awaiting what came next, his eyes full of urgency.

Ouyang An gave a slight nod, steadied himself, and spoke in a calm, steady tone, each word clearly reaching Shi Er's ears:

"Your Highness, you have now lost all power, been forced onto Heishishan, and possess nothing at all. By now, you have nothing left to lose."

These blunt words mercilessly laid bare all his misery and ruin, causing Shi Er's face to pale slightly, his fingertips to clench, his knuckles to whiten, and his shame and agitation to surge again.

Before Shi Er could grow angry, Ouyang An spoke again, his tone cold and resolute:

Rather than die trapped in the wilderness, waiting for death, it's better to take advantage of the two or three hundred trusted followers who still have the strength for one battle, make a desperate breakout... even if it means selling myself once.

What did you say?!

Upon hearing this, Si Er instantly flew into a rage, and a vicious aura burst forth all around.

He sprang to his feet, a murderous light flashing in his eyes, his whole body tensed, the pressure around him plummeting, as if he were about to erupt on the spot:

"Selling myself? Si An, you dare insult me!"

He is the Crown Prince of a vassal state; even in defeat, he is a heavenly nobility raised from childhood—how could he tolerate others uttering such humiliating words as 'selling oneself'?

Anger surged to his head in an instant, the frustration of defeat intertwining with present humiliation, nearly causing him to lose control.

Ouyang An, however, remained unchanged in expression, calm and unhurried, continuing to say:

Prince, calm your anger. Our dynasty lies at the junction of the Central Plains and the Southern Oceans, a vast territory where fish and dragons mingle, powers intertwine, imperial control is weak, and various forces are deeply entangled—exactly the ideal place to survive in troubled times and turn the tide.

In this borderland, a Khmer tribe has long been entrenched, a matriarchal clan power. They do not involve themselves in court disputes, nor train heavy infantry, yet they exclusively control the trade route at the border, engaging in year‑long maritime trade with the Southern Oceans, accumulating immense wealth, with numerous subordinates and spies spread everywhere; what they lack most is a person capable of overseeing the big picture, versed in stratagems, and skilled at layout to take charge.

Ouyang An raised his eyes, gazing directly at the still‑furious Si Er, his tone calm and forceful:

You have spent half your life in high office, deeply versed in the arts of power and strategy, familiar with military and civil arrangements, and besides, your appearance is handsome and your bearing extraordinary—this is what you have left, and your most precious asset.

If you set aside your pride and go to the borderlands to seek refuge with the Khmer tribe, using your wisdom and status to aid them in trade and governance, borrowing their manpower and wealth for your own use, lying low to build strength and await the moment—how could you lack a sliver of hope for a comeback?

?? Ouyang is an alias, the original surname is Si—don't worry if you don't remember, the author will remind you from time to time~

? The typing conditions are still good or bad, outside is a vast flood......