"Yes, I am quite ruthless, of course I am not so kind," Xueying retorted, her temper flaring.

Hongli wanted to say something more, but mindful of the Seventeenth Prince's instructions, he said, "Go back and rest. There has been no fighting here these past few days, but the enemy might launch a surprise attack at any time. So tomorrow, I will send you back to the rear."

"Where is Prince?" Xueying asked.

“Of course I will stay here. Tomorrow I will send a few capable men to escort you back,” Hongli said.

"Xueying came here to take care of Prince, but now that Prince is staying here while I am sent back to the rear, there is no point in me coming here," Xueying said. "Prince, I should stay here."

“If you stay here, you will only be a burden to me,” Hongli said, turning around.

"I will not be any burden to Your Highness," Xueying said stubbornly.

“Alright, go back to your tent now. It’s the second tent, 100 feet northwest of the general’s camp. You’ve gone to the wrong place. I need to go back to the general’s camp now,” Hongli said.

Xueying nodded, and Hongli turned to leave, leaving behind the words, "Don't go the wrong way, there are soldiers everywhere here."

Xueying stuck out her tongue at Hongli's retreating figure and glanced down at the short sword in her hand. Following Hongli's instructions, she went to find the tent assigned to her for resting.

After asking several people, Xueying found the tent that Hongli had mentioned. Inside, there was only a bed and nothing else.

Sleepiness indeed swept over her. Xueying walked to the bedside, took off her cloak, and plopped down on the bed.

She felt like all the bones in her body were about to fall apart. The running all day, the tension when encountering the wolf pack, the excitement of sitting behind Hongli and holding his waist, and the confrontation with him just now had exhausted all of Xueying's energy.

All she wanted to do now was get a good night's sleep and then think about tomorrow. She wasn't going to leave anyway; she just wanted to stick by Hongli's side, make him accept her, and force him to confront his own feelings.

As Xueying closed her eyes and was about to fall asleep, suddenly a corner of the tent was lifted, and something crawled in.

"What's that?" Xueying realized something was wrong and immediately sat up in bed. She suddenly realized that she might have gone into the wrong tent. What if the tent's owner came back if she just went back to sleep?

When Xueying realized that the person who crawled in was a person, she became increasingly worried that she might have entered the wrong tent.

“Master!” The man suddenly knelt down and said in broken Chinese.

Xueying looked at him in surprise; it was the same half-grown child she had exchanged for that precious sword.

"You, how did you get in? I, I'm not your master," Xueying said.

“It was Master who saved Pichu, so Pichu’s life belongs to Master,” the boy said. His Chinese was a little awkward, but it was understandable.

"Your name is Pichu? Who, who are you?" Xueying suppressed her surprise and asked.

“Pichiu’s mother was Han Chinese, and his father was a Xiongnu,” Pichiu said.

"How old are you? Why did you steal our warhorse?" Xueying asked.

“Picchu is thirteen. I need a horse, but I haven’t been able to get one yet,” Picchu answered honestly.

“Go back to your mother’s place. I don’t need your repayment,” Xueying said.

Pichu shook his head, a look of sorrow in his eyes.

"Your mother is gone?" Xueying guessed.