Chapter 1268: Mask

Throughout this journey, Peter the Great did not say another word.

Because even without drinking, he had entered into a deep sleep.

Even the strongest lion has a time when it grows old; Peter's current state was exactly that.

When he was young, for the sake of Tsarist Russia, he could travel to Europe to study, and no matter how hard the days were, he could endure them. At that time, he was full of ambition, and for the strength of Tsarist Russia, he was engaged in massive amounts of learning every day.

Of course.

He had already been very successful.

Peter the Great—this name in history is already dazzling enough.

He was a successful pioneer and also a successful reformer. But he was destined not to be someone who could lead Tsarist Russia to true success. Because a person's lifespan is short. However, the Peter of now did not imagine that in the days to come, he would constantly consider that Tsarist Russia, lacking an heir, would continue his glory in the hands of his daughter. And Catherine II would utter the bold words that if Heaven gave her another five hundred years, she would surely lead her army to tread across the entire globe.

Of course.

Now he does not know.

This man, who was absolutely a genius in terms of governance, was a total mess when it came to emotions.

In the Horse Carriage, the gazes of Yekaterina and Menshikov met once again.

In the eyes of the two, a fanatical light began to erupt.

Peter on the Horse Carriage began to snore like thunder.

The other two people, however, were kissing each other madly.

This bizarre scene seemed to increase the two people's passion; all of a sudden, the air inside the Horse Carriage became ambiguous and stimulating.

Returning to his own mansion, Menshikov still had the fragrance of Yekaterina lingering on his lips.

He fell into deep thought.

Of course, the matter had nothing to do with his lover of nearly a lifetime, but rather the warning Peter had given him.

What did he mean?

An ultimatum?

Menshikov gave a cold snort.

What did it mean?

To make him take out money to settle those ugly fellows? Distribute money to them? Use money to plug the mouths of the likes of Osilev?

Dream on!

Small money is fine, big money is not.

This was Menshikov's consistent principle. In all of Tsarist Russia, only he could be the richest! Having started out selling sesame cakes, his desire for money exceeded everyone else's. He was the Emperor's brother, he was the Empress's lover! By what right did others deserve it!

"Truly a senile old fool!"

Menshikov had always believed that only if he himself were absolutely powerful would these clowns be worth nothing! Hadn't Peter always done it this way? But now that he was old, he had actually started to fear these people...

Truly ridiculous!

Consequently, he thought again of this batch of grain and fodder about to be sent to the front line, and his mood became quite good.

"Quick, dance for me!"

"Dance!"

In an instant, he cast Peter's warning to him out of his mind.

Two million shi of grain and fodder still set off in a grand, mighty fashion.

No matter how unwilling Osilev was, with Peter the Great's order, he could not defy it.

Watching this troop head toward the front line under the escort of Abulu, his entire face was filled with deep worry.

This was just a feeling, a feeling very hard to ponder and very hard to confirm. But this feeling constantly lingered in Osilev's heart, unable to be dispelled.

He felt that this transport of military grain should end this war, or, it would end something.

As to what exactly it would end, he could not be sure.

But the matter was already as such, and it was no longer something he could change.

The Qian father and son requested of Menshikov many times to escort the grain and fodder, but they were all refused.

【Line 45 is a continuation of 44】

Of course, they were not surprised by this result.

In fact, the request had to be made, and the refusal also had to be refused. This was a kind of extreme tug-of-war; if they did not want to go, Menshikov would instead suspect them. But since they wanted to go, Menshikov naturally would not let them.

The matter of grain and fodder was too big.

Menshikov had to keep the two of them to serve as hostages.

Once any problem appeared at the front line, those two would certainly not be able to leave Tsarist Russia alive.

Of course, Menshikov still prepared a luxurious life for the father and son, tall Tsarist Russian beauties, as well as all kinds of dancers, fine wine, and delicious food.

Only they could not go out.

The father and son looked at each other with a bitter smile.

They had long anticipated this result, so they were not overly worried.

Even the two of them had long since prepared themselves psychologically to sacrifice their lives for the motherland. Even if they died here, so what?

If the death of the two of them could make their family back home feel glorious and allow the family's honor to rise again, then they would have died for a worthy cause!

Thinking this, the two had already raised their wine cups and downed a drink fiercely.

This time, they had played a big game!

The grain and fodder were already on the road, which basically determined that the scales of this war were beginning to tilt.

Just like that, the days passed one by one.

The two of them, apart from the residence Menshikov had arranged for them, could go nowhere else. So they simply enjoyed themselves, having already seen through life and death. They would enjoy each day as it came. Every day they woke up, it was to live in a drunken stupor.

Every day they woke up, it was to song and dance.

Menshikov naturally liked the state the two were in.

At the beginning, he even had servants monitoring them.

Later, seeing the way these two were, he couldn't be bothered to care anymore.

Anyway...

To him, this order had already been completed, and what followed was just waiting for the right time to kill these two monkeys.

However, what Menshikov did not expect was this.

The father and son of the Qian family had been putting on a performance these past few days specifically for him to see.

During the day, they indulged in song and dance, but after their drunken stupor, at night, when those responsible for monitoring them were asleep, the two would start getting busy in their room.

Busy with what?

They were brewing a special kind of broth in their room!

This broth was brewed from a certain type of tree; at first, the smell was very strong, but in the end, it slowly became colorless and odorless. In reality, this type of tree was equivalent to the rubber or silicone of later times.

That's right.

The two were secretly making masks!

They were still unwilling to die in Tsarist Russia! As long as one is a Longyan, one values the idea of returning to one's roots. Even if they were to die, they had to die in Longyan!

Making masks.

This was something Qian Feng had learned back home during his training at the Liangzhou Military Academy.

He was now, without a doubt, a professional secret agent.

This bit of skill was not a problem for him at all.

Today, this thick broth was finally successfully brewed.

Afterwards, once the broth had cooled, Qian Feng used a vessel to scoop it up, while Qian Yonggui lay on the bed. Qian Feng began to slowly pour this viscous broth onto his father's face, and then, he began to slowly adjust, slowly adjust, carefully adjust.

Finally, he continued to let it cool.

After waiting a while longer...

Qian Yonggui slowly stood up, and then stared in shock at himself in the mirror.