Chapter 236: Jon Snow

After he read the news Val sent back via raven to the main officials of the Night's Watch, they remained silent, silently expressing opposition.

Silence was still okay; several people had already cursed loudly and used all their strength to slam the door when they walked out of the hall.

At least I am not a door.

He pretended not to understand the cursing.

What's the use? You can call on the Night's Watch to oppose me, but no matter what, I have obtained the approval of most of the brothers, even if he wants to bring the Free Folk south of the Wall, even under the pressure of Ser Roderick.

The Wall is mine. You should be obedient.

Reading the news to them had no meaning; he knew he should give orders directly.

He was indeed ordering: Orell Waters was transferred by him to Eastwatch, he hoped Cotter Pyke would like his mocking smile from time to time; he appointed Jaremy Rykker as First Ranger, hoping this nobleman from the Reach could teach Alliser Thorne to learn humility, of course, even more so to dismiss this incompetent Master-at-arms of Castle Black, so that the more suitable Andar Royce could take over.

He also wanted to send Bowen Marsh to the Nightfort, let him organize the largest ruined fortress on the Wall, but that hid the Black Gate, he could never make up his mind, and, excluding dissidents so blatantly made him feel a lot of pressure. For the same reason, the original position was retained for the First Builder Othel Yarwyck; this stubborn old man also didn't like the Free Folk, but the task of repairing the path to the top of the Wall still needed him. If he completes this task, he will drive him to the Nightfort as soon as possible, where countless jobs are waiting for him.

After receiving the orders, everyone's reactions were different.

The bastard of Driftmark respectfully agreed, but he requested to tidy up a bit and set off early tomorrow morning, because his attitude was respectful and the reason was reasonable, Qiongen agreed.

Ser Alliser cursed at the appointment, maliciously guessing the bad intentions behind his appointment.

He thought Qiongen was trying to make him die beyond the Wall, but Qiongen felt he was just not suitable for the position of Master-at-arms, and he was too lazy to explain to him. Perhaps the life of a ranger would tell him that every Night's Watchman has their own strengths, and he could also use real sword skills to exchange for the skill of wiping his ass with leaves.

He also made arrangements for the captives.

Mance Rayder, the most important captive among the Free Folk, had been in the ice prison of Castle Black for dozens of days, but when Qiongen went to see him and proposed the conditions he thought were already very generous, he still refused without hesitation.

When Qiongen realized that this person was seeking death, he simply locked him in a cage next to the wight, so that when he could spare manpower, or when Ser Roderick returned to Winterfell, he could take him and the wight back together.

In his sister's eyes, he and the wight might be equivalent; at least in Qiongen's view, it was difficult to distinguish the value of the two.

The women among the captives were arranged by him to the Long-bridge Tower, guarded and transported by mountain clan warriors led by Athos Flint. He hoped Athos and his Flint warriors would not sow seeds among these wildlings. To ensure this, he also split up Bowen Marsh's steward subordinates.

Those stewards who were extremely disgusted with the Free Folk were arranged by him to go to the Long-bridge Tower with Athos Flint. Qiongen hoped their disgust would make them do as few wrong things as possible. Besides these arrangements, he didn't know what method to use to protect the chastity of these Free Folk women as much as possible. Perhaps on the contrary, protect the chastity of these Night's Watchmen and Flint warriors as much as possible.

The children among the captives were driven by him to the Nightfort, where there were the largest fortresses and ruins on the Wall, and every room had countless legends and stories; perhaps these stories could make them have a little more favor for the Night's Watch, and the spacious space was enough to consume their energy.

As for the elderly, he handed them all over to Rickard Harklay; he had experience dealing with the elderly and knew how to exert the value of these elderly people. Didn't his sister appoint him to command all the mountain clan warriors? Then it should also be arranged by him for the elderly he didn't know how to handle.

He kept the most dangerous young Free Folk warriors and a giant entangled in layers of chains by his side.

He originally had two giant captives, but one of them died of infection yesterday because the arrow wound was too serious. They burned the giant's bones in front of the remaining wildling to avoid someone taking out the giant's bones to show off in front of him, making the still-living giant go crazy.

But so far, the healthy giant's performance was still okay, but Qiongen didn't know if it would be different after he unlocked the chains.

It was not the time to test yet. His focus was still on those young Free Folk warriors.

He hoped that the treatment of the Free Folk Night's Watchmen serving by his side could be seen by them, and inspire more people to completely turn to him. But from the current point of view, these young captives had no interest in joining the Night's Watch.

Qiongen rejected Jarmen's proposal to reduce their supply.

Those foods could only maintain the most basic survival, but if they wanted to eat better and be freer, they needed to make contributions to him, make contributions to the Wall, or, when he made a proposal to Tormund Giantsbane, be able to make contributions to his sister.

They could pay with strength to live better in the North. His sister, from every angle, was at least a fair and just person.

When he finished all the arrangements and discussed the communication plan with the Free Folk with Sam, the maester, and the First Ranger, the night was already deep.

Eddison Tollett served them food several times, and in the end, urged them several times to return to their rooms to sleep. When Sam couldn't help but yawn, Qiongen finally gave up the discussion.

He felt extremely sleepy and extremely tired.

He didn't want to return to the King's Tower; he was not a king, and even less wanted to be a king, and even less wanted his Night's Watch brothers to see him impatiently enjoying the status of Lord Commander. The King's Tower was lived in by a tired and busy commander, not a king or some nobleman.

There was nothing to enjoy there.

Lord Commander Mormont's bird didn't know when it flew back to Castle Black, almost bothering him all the time. He wanted to catch that bird several times and throw it into the cage in the Maester's Tower, but every time he wanted to act, he was always interrupted by various things, and he didn't want to hurt the only remaining relic of Lord Commander Mormont.

Lord Commander's body was still left at Craster's Keep... he hoped people hadn't forgotten how to burn.

Ollo, Grenn, Othor, Small Paul, Karl... he didn't know if there were other Night's Watch traitors entrenched there.

He had no energy or strength to invest power into Craster's Keep to eradicate this group of traitors; the keep was too far from the Wall and too dangerous, and he didn't want to consume the increasingly dwindling Night's Watch there.

The Gods would not forgive these sinners who violated the guest right, he believed.

He walked out of the warm small council chamber and separated from the rest of the people. Two Night's Watchmen followed behind him. He smiled and let them return to sleep too. Ghost was by his side; no one could hurt him, and besides, this was the Wall, his Wall.

He wandered in the pitch-black corridor, the cold wind whistled down from above the Wall, he tightened his cloak, and felt the back of his feet cold. He continued to walk forward aimlessly, hoping that under his feet was a path independent of the one his sister had drawn for him, walking out of rebirth, walking out of narrowness, walking out of entanglement.

She was a Stark, or a Targaryen; she said names didn't matter, bloodlines didn't matter. But he felt that no matter how he walked, he couldn't walk out of Snow, ice and snow.

Snow, Snow. His feet stepped on the hard accumulated snow, making a puff-puff collapsing sound. The soldiers watching in the hanging tower looked at him suspiciously, then retracted their gaze and curled into a corner.

When he looked up again, he found he was already at the entrance of the steaming hot spring. Ghost looked at him, then stepped on the snow and disappeared into the night. Perhaps in a dream, they would meet again, in a more intimate way.

A lonely lantern was placed at the entrance of the hot spring pool, and one further inside was flickering; the candle inside might go out soon.

He went in before the candle went out.

He chose the innermost hot spring pool.

He took off his black robe and cloak, took off his leather armor and the cotton armor inside, and hung them on the clothes rack.

If there was anything to enjoy in Castle Black, besides the hot spring bath, there was only the endless turnips and black vegetable soup. He didn't appreciate the latter.

The pool water was only slightly warm in the middle of the night, but it was enough to keep him warm, and he lay down comfortably.

He wanted to sort out the way to break the situation, wanted to crack the trap his sister had set for him. But no matter what method he thought of, he was always considered by himself to be annoying and willful.

The spring water rippled slightly, with the smell of sulfur, and a faint dryness. The smell of fire.

Underground was a furnace, warming the flowing water source; when the water source rose to the surface, it formed a hot spring. He remembered having heard this explanation.

He somewhat regretted choosing the last bath pool; no matter how hot the hot spring water flowed through the cold long canal, it became tasteless by the time it reached here.

Forget it. He closed his eyes, and fatigue almost instantly enveloped him.

He fell asleep.

He thought he would dream of Ghost, following it to hunt hungry prey on the land of the North, but this dream only had the sound of endless flowing water.

Smoke shrouded the island, war flags fluttered, he thought he could see the direwolf banner, but what he saw most was the banner of House Greyjoy, the banner of the golden kraken. Under the banner, soldiers were rushing to the warships leaving steps, the burned buildings were still emitting greedy smoke, a corner of the distant beach was dyed red with blood, and corpses were floating on it with the waves.

A group of women and soldiers were holding babies on the other side, and amidst the strange shouting of the priest, they sank the babies into the seawater rushing onto the shore. The seawater receded, and kelp and water plants remained on the babies' bodies. The babies were screaming in pain.

Oh, that's not kelp, that's the umbilical cord.

The seawater seemed to be washing him, he hoped to put aside such a boring or terrifying scene. He was not interested in the Iron Islands, and absolutely did not want to go there.

He got his wish. The sea disappeared before his eyes, turning into dark spring water, and the dripping water on the rock wall fell into the spring.

The spring water was cold, like the cave where he and Ygritte were together.

He hoped to find Ygritte in this cave, however, the spring water gurgled, and no one was in sight.

He went up along the spring water, hoping to find the source, find the origin.

The water became warmer and warmer. The smell of sulfur became stronger and stronger, and the smell of fire became stronger and stronger.

The water flowed down from higher rocks, craggy stalactites grew on the rock wall, the hot spring steamed in the pool, emitting amazing heat waves, he tried his best to lean forward, and the pool emitted a white luster.

What is that? Pearl, dragon egg? He couldn't see clearly. When he wanted to get closer, he was interrupted by the sound from outside.

He woke up.

"That bastard wants me dead!" That was the voice of Ser Alliser.

"It doesn't matter if you die. It's just that the bastard wants to bring the wildlings in. Hehe, everyone is getting close to him, as if he is the younger brother of the Lady of Winterfell, so no matter what stupid things he does, he can be forgiven." This was the voice of Steward Bowen Marsh. "That is betrayal! It is betrayal, shameful betrayal!"

He gently sank himself into the hot spring. He hoped they would leave quickly, perhaps he wouldn't have to listen to these voices opposing him, and he could pretend to be at peace with these people.

"I have served on the Wall for as long as that bastard has been alive, and now I have to be commanded and toyed with by him. If I had known, I should have taken my sword and stabbed it into Tywin's neck..." The sound of water drowned out his later words.

"Damn it, if you wanted to stab, you would have stabbed long ago. If you ask me, it's fine to stab now." Steward Bowen Marsh said, "That bastard has transferred everyone around me, I think the next one to go out on a wildling patrol will be me. That bastard must want us all to die..."

"Unless..."

"What's the use of saying these? We have to act, destroy his conspiracy. Hmph, protect our Wall, yes, our Wall, that bastard's sister wants to disband the Night's Watch, has she ever thought of us? We have wasted half our lives here, do we have to be... by a word from her sister..."

"She wants that bastard to go back and be..."

"Hmph! Dream on, I must take his head and send it to his bitch sister..."

Before they said anything more excessive—he felt he couldn't hide anymore.

So he walked out of the bath, didn't wipe dry, and wrapped himself in a robe. This made him sigh a little; the damp clothes would only make him colder later.

"Who is it?" They questioned after hearing the sound.

"The bastard in your mouth," Qiongen walked to the front of their bath and mocked, "Next time you talk, you'd better pay attention to whether there is anyone nearby. Of course, about sending heads, you'd better just think about it." He casually put on his leather armor, put on his pants, put on his cloak, mounted Longclaw, and walked out.

The cold wind blew through the cave entrance, ice-cold to the bone, instantly taking away all the warmth brought from the bath.

He heard the subtle sound behind him, turned his head, and a dagger was handed straight to him. He dodged, touched his waist and hip, but he didn't touch his dragon steel dagger. Just finished washing, the dagger hadn't fully returned to its place.

He dodged sideways. He couldn't see clearly who it was. Maybe it was Ser Alliser or Steward Bowen Marsh, or maybe the Night's Watch soldiers or officers with them.

"What are you doing?" Qiongen was terrified and scolded loudly, hoping the sound could deter them.

They hesitated for a moment, then came with more fierce movements.

Qiongen hurriedly drew his sword, but Longclaw was too long, and before he could draw the sword, he felt pain in his chest, and then his whole body began to lose strength. He fell backward and fell into the hot spring.

Am I going to die?

He heard the sound of water splashing when he fell, heard the angry accusations of Ser Alliser and Steward Bowen Marsh, and heard the muffled sound of the dagger falling and rolling into the hot spring.

He smelled the sulfur smell of the spring water, the smell of fire, and the smell of blood again.

He wanted to shout, but when he opened his mouth, he couldn't shout anything. He heard the sound of their footsteps running away.

The world spun before him.

He was struggling, but there was no strength at all.

In the dark, he heard footsteps walking in quietly again, and heard the sound of breathing squatting on the ground.

He felt Longclaw leave his hand, and he saw a black shadow stand up from beside him.

"Mother..." He wanted to call out this name he had never called before, but couldn't make a sound, "Mei..." He was ashamed and couldn't call out that name either.

"This is a good sword, you said." He heard a voice.

That was a gift from his sister.

Facing the faint firelight, he saw that mocking smile. Above the smile was a head of silver-gold long hair. ===== CHAPTER 237 =====