Chapter 71 Drinking Snow (Part 11) Waiting patiently...
The autumn wind is chilly, and the cold stars shine brightly.
The sudden appearance of the foreign man was like a chilling gust of wind that swept over people in the dead of winter. Jing Yao's neck trembled, and she was terrified.
She quietly pulled Zhi Rou's hand, wanting to step back with her, but unexpectedly, the Prince of Bei Li spoke to them, saying, "Come here."
Jing Yao felt a tightness in her chest. She looked around and saw people nearby, but they were all of foreign appearance, including a few female slaves she had just seen who had brought food to the princess.
Who else could he be addressing with his broken Central Plains dialect but them?
Jingyao couldn't help but tremble, and whispered to Zhirou, "What should we do... Is he... calling us...?"
On the grasslands, to judge whether a person is sharp-minded, just look at their eyes.
Last time in the forest, Enhe felt that this person was interesting, unlike those upright and timid Yan people.
He was young and impetuous, and he was still unhappy that she had taken advantage of him last time. He loosened his collar, took out a short knife, twirled it in his hand, and said to Zhirou, "Here's the knife. You and I, let's play again."
Zhi Rou's eyes flickered slightly, and her nails unconsciously dug into her palms. Jing Yao could feel the power within her body trying to move forward, and couldn't help but exclaim in surprise, "Miss!" She gripped her hand even tighter, not letting her go.
Those Northern Li people were clearly fighting fiercely. Even though she always dressed as a man, she was still a woman. How could she recklessly go over and join them?
Zhi Rou was also sizing up En He.
He is stronger than her, but she has better stamina, and given his experience with other opponents, she might not necessarily lose.
Furthermore, under the watchful eyes of everyone, could he possibly harm her? They hadn't truly welcomed the Yan princess until they reached the royal tent. Any further bloodshed at this juncture would render the treaty between the two countries null and void.
After some deliberation, Zhi Rou slightly broke free from Jing Yao and stepped towards that direction.
Although the Beili soldiers couldn't understand what the prince had just said, they were perceptive enough to see that a battle was about to begin. Their eyes all fell on Zhi Rou, noticing that he wasn't short, but compared to the prince, he was too thin, and they all thought he had no chance.
Enhe raised the corners of his lips slightly, staring intently at Zhirou as she walked towards him step by step, her face appearing even more striking in the firelight.
When she reached the edge of the arena, Ao Yun stared at her for a moment, then suddenly his eyes sharpened, and he was about to step forward when Mu Xile reached out and grabbed him: "Where are you going?"
"It's that kid!" Ao Yun turned his head angrily, his voice filled with resentment. "Can't you tell? That Central Plains man."
“Of course I can see that. Among these southerners, only this boy is different from the others from beginning to end,” Mu Xile replied naturally, then raised his chin towards Enhe and said, “Don’t spoil the prince’s fun.”
Upon hearing this, Ao Yun remained silent for a moment, then took two steps back and stood back, his eyes fixed on the center of the arena.
From childhood to adulthood, Enhe rarely lost a fight, because every time someone knocked him down, he would get up again and fight until he was defeated. In order to get the Khan's attention, he was not afraid of pain. People said that he was indeed born of a lowly slave, with a body full of lowliness.
Like Enhe, Ao Yun's birth mother was just a female slave in the royal tent who could be trampled on by anyone. In the tribe, he was despised. Every time Alamusu led people to tease him, Enhe would stand in front of him. Her clothes were dirty, but her smile was clean, revealing a set of snow-white teeth.
Later, they secretly followed Boyan to learn archery. After Aoyun learned to shoot arrows, the first person he killed was the one who had bullied them with Alamusu.
He has been clearing obstacles for Enhe, and he continues to do so even though Enhe does not approve of some of them.
The wind suddenly stopped, and Zhi Rou's robe brushed past the campfire as the human wall immediately closed.
From the outside, only Enhe's shadow could be vaguely seen.
Jingyao was very anxious. The highest-ranking person in the group was Princess Huaixian, but the princess was still crying on the bed, so how could she care about Zhirou's life or death?
She wanted to find someone to rescue Zhirou from her predicament, but she dared not leave, dared not abandon Zhirou alone. Torn by inner turmoil, she finally bit her lip and ran to Huaixian's tent.
Enhe tossed the dagger to Zhirou, who caught it, looked down at it for a while, and gently stroked the "甲" character on the scabbard with her fingers.
Then she looked up and stared at him: "Me, with a knife?"
Enhe nodded.
"And what about you?" Zhi Rou glanced around discreetly. The soldiers had sabers and whips in their hands.
He smiled, shook his head, and said only one word.
"Come."
His voice wasn't loud, and it still held a lingering smile, but when he opened his mouth, his aura was as imposing as iron. Seeing his arrogance, Zhi Rou still dared not be careless; she had fought him before, and this man's skills were indeed ferocious.
She carefully hung the scabbard on her body, the exposed "甲" character with its strong, sharp strokes, as if proclaiming something.
The pine branches were still being roasted in the blazing fire, surrounded by a crimson glow.
Zhi Rou drew her sword, her five fingers gripping the hilt, the blade pointing towards En He. He finally lowered his head slightly, watching her every movement.
Having learned her lesson from last time, Zhi Rou was no longer hesitant. She suddenly moved, the cold blade in her hand stabbing towards En He's waist. The clear, ringing sound reached his ears, and he retreated swiftly.
Seeing that her first attack missed, she immediately turned around and attacked his throat.
The blade almost grazed Enhe's neck. He dodged to the side, grabbed her wrist holding the knife, and pressed down on her left shoulder with his other hand to maintain distance.
Both of them were focused on the blade. His strength was so great that Zhi Rou's hand was already trembling slightly.
Last time, he twisted her right wrist, and it hasn't fully healed yet. The force from his knuckles almost seeped in. Zhi Rou gritted her teeth, loosened her fingers, and quickly turned the knife handle in her palm, then suddenly thrust upwards with force.
The knife tip was pointed at Enhe's throat, and Zhirou pushed it forward with all her might. Enhe resisted her hand, and seeing the cold light just inches away from her, she leaned back, sneering, and spoke in a language Zhirou couldn't understand: "You want to kill me?"
Zhi Rou remained silent. Their strength was vastly different; she instinctively gripped the knife with both hands, and seeing that she couldn't exert force upwards, she thrust it downwards towards his heart.
Ao Yun held his breath, his leg involuntarily lifting forward again, but he only pressed it down in time, adhering to the rules of the arena.
I didn't expect these people from the Central Plains to be so ruthless.
At first in the forest, his attacks were subtle, but he would lose his strength when he reached a vital point. He looked like a young punk who had never played for real.
Enhe wasn't surprised by her change; on the contrary, the more ruthless she became, the more interested he became. Suddenly, he took a half step to the side, forcefully pulling Zhirou's hand back and pressing it against her neck.
The wind suddenly shifted, and the campfire at the edge of the field seemed to sway for a moment.
Zhi Rou was forced to retreat step by step by him, and her competitive spirit also rose. She raised her knee to strike his abdomen, struggled to break free from him, and in the blink of an eye, they fought dozens of rounds.
Eager to escape, each of her attacks was filled with murderous intent. The blade grazed Enhe's thin clothing, and with a sizzling sound, a line of blood appeared.
The fight had lasted too long, and Zhi Rou's right hand was on the verge of exhaustion and had begun to tremble.
She pursed her lips tightly, thinking to herself that she couldn't lose to him.
With her life at stake, she naturally sought the safest approach.
Zhi Rou switched the knife to her left hand and stared intently at En He.
He rarely used his left hand to hold weapons and was extremely unskilled. When he attacked again, he quickly gained the upper hand.
Right now, the short knife was held down by Enhe and placed on Zhirou's shoulder. His hands were extremely strong, and his eyes were calm, as if he was appreciating the expression on her face and patiently waiting for her to beg for mercy.
Zhi Rou was glad that she hadn't taken off her clothes like him when they started fighting. Her cloak was thick enough that she hadn't been cut on the shoulder by the blade.
She tried her best to block, but the chill still crept closer and closer to her blood vessels. With just a little bit left, the blade would cut through her flesh.
Zhi Rou refused to admit defeat. Her gaze passed over his face and lingered behind him. Suddenly, she whispered to him in the grassland language, "There are wolves."
Perhaps it was an instinct of the Beili people when facing wild beasts, or perhaps it was because she suddenly spoke, Enhe glanced sideways and loosened his grip slightly.
Taking advantage of the moment, Zhirou instantly turned the tide. She swung her knife and cut off the braid that Enhe had fallen onto her shoulder, holding the long section in her hand.
“It’s over,” she said.
The surrounding soldiers were so terrified by what they saw that they could not utter a sound.
This man from the Central Plains... actually dared to cut off the prince's hair.
Regardless of whether she tricked him, that slash, if it had followed the direction of his hair, would have been fatal. Even if she had shown mercy and cut off his braid instead, it would have been extremely humiliating for Enhe.
Enhe was probably angry; he slightly curled the corners of his lips as if he were smiling, but there was a hint of viciousness in his smile.
Zhi Rou knew that winning was not honorable, but at this critical moment, saving his life was of course the most important thing. Who would talk to him about integrity? Therefore, Zhi Rou did not show any fear or guilt on his face. He was just too tired and was a little out of breath.
The sky hung low, and the firelight blazed fiercely.
The eyes opposite him were terrifyingly bright, and when Zhi Rou met his gaze, her own eyes were incredibly bright.
After an unknown amount of time, Enhe's tense muscles finally relaxed, and he wiped the sweat from his chin.
Seeing that she could speak the Northern Li language, he stopped speaking Mandarin and said to Zhi Rou with a light laugh, "You win."
He held out his left hand to her, and Zhi Rou understood, throwing his braid back to him.
Having won, Zhi Rou had no lingering attachment to the arena. She sheathed her dagger, removed her boots, and turned away.
"Hey," Enhe called after her, "what's your name?"
Zhi Rou pretended not to understand and continued walking.
The soldiers slowly parted to make way for her, their eyes fixed on her, filled with admiration.
When Enhe saw that she didn't respond, he asked again in her language, "What's your name?"
She still ignored her.
Ao Yun stepped forward, giving Zhi Rou's retreating figure a sharp look, feeling indignant on En He's behalf: "How could the prince lose?"
Mu Xile leaned closer and asked another question: "What did he say to the prince?"
He was standing closest and saw the man from the Central Plains move his lips and say a few words to the prince, which put him at a disadvantage.
Her eyes and expression were so much like his.
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