Chapter 55 "The most important thing is the sentiment."...
The rumble of wheels mingled with the bustling chatter of people on the long street, gently brushing past my ears.
Feng Mian tilted her head, her forehead gently resting against the cool wooden frame of the window. The air, carrying the fragrance of unknown flowers, seeped in through the gaps in the thin satin curtain, softly brushing against her face.
The thin satin curtains of the carriage swayed up and down with the gentle rocking of the carriage, causing the view to shift between light and shadow.
When the curtain was drawn back, a burst of bright sunlight flooded in, making the street scene and people look like a painting submerged in clear water. When the curtain fell back down, the carriage was suddenly plunged into darkness, and the sunlight of the previous moment seemed to linger before my eyes, leaving flickering afterimages on my eyelids.
Feng Mian's gaze fell on a peddler carrying a stack of candied hawthorns and hawking his wares. His figure quickly disappeared outside the window, and the thin curtain fell in that instant, obscuring his view.
In the flickering light and shadow, Feng Mian's mixed thoughts drifted back to the carriage a few days ago. After Baili Xunzhou said that she hadn't sent him any notes for three days, his gaze had been fixed on her for a moment.
She felt inexplicably uncomfortable, avoided his minor accusation, and simply nodded in agreement to his previous request, saying, "Okay, I'll remember to write it down."
Her eyes lit up instantly as she looked at him, just as a breeze lifted the carriage curtain and the sunlight warmed her cheeks.
She turned her head to look at the long street, subconsciously grabbing the first figure in her field of vision, and muttered meaninglessly, "Ah, candied hawthorn."
The topic was casually shifted away just like that.
It wasn't until she was about to leave the city today that she turned her thoughts back to how to write today's note so that it wouldn't be considered perfunctory.
Feng Mian was leaning against the window frame, lost in thought, when he suddenly heard a series of crisp, urgent hoofbeats approaching from behind.
The slightly swaying carriage then slowly came to a stop.
Just as Feng Mian was about to ask what had happened, he heard two soft knocks from the car window frame next to him.
The sound was restrained yet carried a hint of urgency.
Feng Mian lifted the curtain, and a handsome, smiling face suddenly appeared at the window.
Bai Lixun's breath still carried the slight panting of someone riding a horse at full speed; fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, but his eyes shone with an astonishing brightness.
He pulled something out of his pocket and stuffed it inside, which Feng Mian instinctively took.
It was a bone-carved whistle, similar to the one I had seen in Baili Xunzhou's hands last time. A simple little boat was carved on the flat bottom, with a brand-new red rope tied to both sides.
“I just finished carving it.” He spoke quickly, a bright smile in his eyes. “Wear it on your body. If you encounter danger, blow it. The Dingbei Army around you will hear it and come to your aid.”
"There's a small stamp at the end. You stamp it on the note, and when they see it, they'll deliver it to me immediately."
"Go ahead, everything will go smoothly."
Without waiting for her response, he smiled at her, then turned away and left in the same hurry as when he came.
When Feng Mian realized what was happening and peeked out, she could only see his back as he rode on horseback. His high ponytail was whipped around by the wind, intertwining with the dark blue hair ribbon as it fluttered wildly, exuding a dashing youthful spirit.
At the head of the group, Gu Chunwen and Lu Mingzhu, standing side by side, watched this scene together.
Lu Mingzhu's expression was a mixture of relief and a hint of inexplicable sadness. "It seems that His Highness has finally started to care about the Princess."
The worries I used to have seem to have been put aside.
But why do I feel even more melancholy?
Gu Chunwen maintained a gentle smile, though his grip on the reins tightened imperceptibly. His gaze swept over Feng Mian, who had shrunk back into the carriage, and the thin curtain that had been quickly lowered swayed gently.
In an instant, a myriad of thoughts raced through my mind, and a subtle, indescribable bitterness welled up within me.
But he quickly suppressed this discomfort, and a warmer smile curved his lips as he softly sighed, "Your Highness is indeed a child at heart. If this can last, it would be good."
If it can't last...
He lowered his eyes, concealing a faint hint of mockery and coldness.
The convoy started moving again.
Inside the carriage, Liu Ying helped Feng Mian put on the bone whistle, adjusting the red string to a position where it could be hidden under her collar and easily accessed.
"I never knew the young master had such skills; he played the whistle quite well."
A smile also appeared in Wu Liu's eyes: "The most important thing is the sentiment."
Well, she thought he was trying to remind her to pass notes to him in various ways, and he even had a seal made for her.
Feng Mian pinched the bone whistle between two fingers, carefully examining the small boat carved at the stern. Its lines were simple and unadorned, and compared to the warship embroidered on the sachet she had given him, it looked like a cub born from that warship.
It's strangely cute.
Feng Mian carefully tucked the bone whistle into his collar, saying, "Get me some paper and pen."
She would have to spend the rest of the day on the road, and she had to keep track of what flowers and plants she encountered along the way, so that she could have something to say on the note.
We can't keep going back to the old, dry way, with just a sentence or two about whereabouts; that would be a disservice to the sincerity of this bone whistle.
Feng Mian and his group were heading towards Black Stone Gully, and the news of summoning merchants for the trade market had already spread among the soldiers of the Swift Feather Camp.
Feng Mian hoped that once she had established the trade market in Heishigou, everything would immediately get on track.
Under a vast blue sky, a continuous stretch of green fields is dotted with small tents, resembling tiny mushrooms rising from the ground.
A group of five riders galloped toward the area where the tents were gathered. A young boy with a foreign-style braid and a quiver of arrows on his shoulder heard the sound of hooves, turned around to look closely, and dropped his bow in alarm. He then ran toward the tent.
As he ran, he shouted in terror, "Da Yong! The Dayong people have invaded! The Dayong people have invaded!"
Several figures emerged from the tents, staring blankly as the young boy ran past in a heart-wrenching frenzy, completely bewildered by what had happened.
"Ouch!"
The young boy, who was running headlong, was punched on the head by someone who emerged from the tent in front of him.
"What are you yelling about?"
The young boy covered his head and looked up. He saw the person looking down at him and murmured, "Holy Maiden."
The "saintess" he spoke of, Mi Tu, was dressed in a sleek, fiery red outfit. Several braids adorned her slightly curled hair. She had a high nose bridge, bright and sharp brown eyes, and a deep red headband tied around her jade-like forehead, making her both radiant and dashing.
She impatiently poked the boy's forehead again. "Answer me! What are you yelling about?"
The young boy then remembered the important matter. His eyes widened in fear, his breathing quickened, and he said in a trembling voice, "The people of Dayong have invaded!"
Mi Tu stared at him without moving, not quite believing him.
"It's true!" The young boy stamped his foot anxiously, pointing in the direction they came from. "I saw them! Five people, riding horses, all wearing the armor of the Swift Feather Camp!"
Mi Tu raised her eyebrows, whistled, and summoned a swift warhorse. "Come, come with me to scout."
At a single command, several people responded.
Before spurring his horse forward, Mi Tu glanced at the young boy and gently tapped his shoulder with his riding whip. "Remember, even if the Dayong people really invade, don't shout and make a scene like you did just now, lest you embarrass the Canglang tribe."
The young boy blushed and nodded hesitantly.
"drive!"
Mi Tu spurred his horse and charged away like an arrow, and sure enough, he spotted five cavalrymen approaching from a hundred meters away.
Even if the Prince of Dingbei and his heir were arrogant, they wouldn't dare to think they could conquer the Canglang tribe with just five cavalrymen, would they?
With these thoughts in mind, Mi Tu took an arrow from his quiver and drew his bow.
The arrow pierced the air, swiftly and steadily grazing the hoof of the leading cavalryman and embedding itself in the ground, its fletching trembling slightly.
"Take another step, and don't blame the arrows for being merciless!"
Mi Tu reined in his horse and shouted in Dayong language.
Several riders lined up behind them, and the dust they kicked up slowly settled.
The five cavalrymen quickly reined in their horses. The leader raised his hands to indicate that he was unarmed and called out, "We are not here to cause trouble! We are here on the orders of the Prince and the Princess to deliver a message regarding trade!"
Mi Tu narrowed his amber eyes, his sharp gaze locking onto the group like a hawk's, not letting his guard down. "What border trade? Never heard of it."
"There is written evidence that Princess Wang has signed a treaty of friendship with the Canglang tribe and has specially invited the Canglang tribe to participate in the first trade fair between Dayong and the thirty-six tribes of the Northern Barbarians!"
The leading cavalryman shouted as he took out a scroll from his robes, wrapped a pebble in it, and tossed it swiftly with a flick of his wrist.
The scroll traced an arc and landed precisely on the grass a few feet in front of Mithar.
A guard behind her was about to step forward when Mi Tu raised her hand to stop him. She spurred her horse forward two steps, bent down, and deftly flicked the scroll with her whip, snatching it into her hand.
She leisurely untied the rope, glanced at it, saw the bright red seal on it, and then lazily waved her hand.
"Tell your master that the Canglang tribe has received this."
"Holy Maiden, is this 'border trade' real or fake? Are they trying to get us to do business with the Dayong people? Could it be that they're plotting something bad to lure us in and wipe us out in one fell swoop?"
Inside the tent, Herlin, the head of the guards, asked in bewilderment after Mi Tu finished reading the document: "Da Yong is taking the initiative to do business with them. This seems so unreliable."
"What does Grandpa think?" Mi Tu didn't answer, but looked at the old man sitting at the head of the table.
The old man was the wolf lord of the Canglang tribe. His gaze fell on the seal behind the document. After a moment of contemplation, he posed the question to the people sitting around him, "What do you think?"
A muscular, burly man slammed his fist on the table. "Don't believe it! The Alna tribe just sent people here, wanting to gather the forces of all thirty-six tribes to attack Dayong again. Once we take all their land, everything will be ours!"
Mi Tu lifted his eyelids and gave a cold smile. "Is Second Uncle confused? When has the Alna tribe not been attacked by the King of Dingbei? They are trying to win us over, but they just want us to be their frontline meat shields and give them a chance by risking our lives."
"How many times have they humiliated our tribes over the years?"
"You silly girl, didn't you promise to burn the grain last time?" Uncle was so angry that he didn't dare to slam his fist on the table, so he could only bring up the past.
Mi Tu slammed his fist on the table. "Back then, I thought they really wanted to cooperate, so I agreed to send them a token of loyalty. But afterwards, they didn't deliver any of the supplies they promised. If I believe their lies again, I'll cut my head off and use it as a football for Adan!"
The little boy in the corner, who was eating a biscuit, trembled and hurriedly waved his hands, "I won't kick you, I won't mention it, Holy Maiden, please don't do this."
Mi Tu ignored him and continued, "Grandpa, I think we can give it a try. I'll lead the men myself, and if anything goes wrong, we can fight our way out and escape."
The old man hesitated for a moment, then said, "Let me think about it some more."
He thought of something and instructed, "Go and find out which tribes the Swift Feather Camp has sent messages to."
"Yes, Grandpa." Mi Tu readily agreed and nimbly got up and walked out of the tent.
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Author's Note: Thank you so much for your comments and support, everyone! Seeing your comments every day makes me so happy and blessed [shy emoji]. *kiss emoji*
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