“That’s true,” Seventeen recalled. “When the last incident happened, I took some men there and saw that masked man following Giru. Giru treated him with great respect; he seemed to be Giru’s strategist.”
Fourth Master frowned slightly, having gained some understanding of the matter. However, the identity of the masked man was unknown, and there were still many detours to be taken in order to win this battle.
On the boundless desert, upon catching sight of the convoy not far away, Hongli finally showed a look of joy.
"Giddy up!" He brandished his whip and led the soldiers behind him to meet them.
"Hongli!" Thirteen, walking at the front of the group, was the first to recognize Hongli, who was dressed in armor. It had been quite a while since he last saw Hongli; he was darker and thinner than before, but his demeanor was much more composed.
Patting Hongli on the shoulder, Thirteen asked in confusion, "Why aren't you staying in the military camp with your father? Why are you here?"
Hongli glanced at the intact grain transport team behind the Thirteenth Prince, laughed heartily, and said, "Thirteenth Uncle, Father Emperor knows that you brought people to transport grain. He was afraid that something might happen, so he sent me to meet you."
"However, it seems now that Father Emperor was overthinking it."
After exchanging a few pleasantries, the two mounted their horses and rode and talked.
After a moment of silence, Hongli spoke: "It's been a while since we left the capital. How is Mother doing in the palace?"
Thirteen's smile faltered. Judging from Hongli's expression, she probably didn't know that Consort Xi had been forced to abdicate and nearly met with disaster. Indeed, Consort Xi always reported good news to the Emperor, never bad. Unless the Emperor asked, she probably wouldn't tell him about such a thing.
"Very good, everything is fine." Thirteen avoided Hongli's gaze, and after thinking for a moment, decided not to reveal the truth.
The matter is in the past; bringing it up now will only make Hongli and the Emperor more worried.
Fortunately, Hongli didn't ask any further questions. He glanced at the fully loaded grain wagons behind him and said with a beaming smile, "If Uncle Thirteen says so, Father and I can rest assured. With this batch of grain, we won't have to worry about a sudden enemy attack."
Meanwhile, inside the airtight enemy camp, a fierce argument was taking place.
Left-wing General Giru, veins bulging on his forehead, angrily addressed several subordinates. The subordinates, however, showed no sign of backing down, each arguing their case forcefully.
The tension between the two sides was escalating rapidly. Suddenly, the masked man who had been silently standing behind Giroud in deep thought stepped forward and said, "If we continue this fight, I'm afraid our chances of winning will be delayed."
Hearing that there was good news about the battle, the deputy generals finally calmed down. Giru also suppressed his anger and said patiently, "Hongshi, don't blame everyone for being impatient. Once this batch of supplies arrives, the Qing army will recover. Wouldn't all the work we've done before be in vain?"
As Giroud spoke, he impatiently unfolded the topographical map on the table, trying hard to make out something.
“This great battle is inevitable no matter what.” Compared to Jiru, the masked man’s tone was very calm. “Winter has arrived on the grasslands. The Qing army is not as adapted to the weather as we are. If we can use the weather to trap them on the grasslands, that would be ideal.”
Giroud nodded, then put away the blueprints in front of him and turned to say something to the lieutenants.
Before long, he returned to the masked man, speaking with a bit more confidence, "Winter has arrived, and the weather on the grasslands is like a child's face; the snow can fall at any moment. There's a snowfall right now."
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
