Chapter 7: A, ahem, Friendly Diplomatic Exchange

Snowflakes drifting... wait, no, wrong scene.

Ji Junhong and Xia Wuji sat side by side on the edge of the cliff. From this angle, they had a perfect view of the two figures in the distance, locked in a fierce battle with a demonic dragon spear and an imperial sword.

Xia Wuji’s shoulders were hunched, his face expressionless. As the setting sun cast its light upon him, he looked profoundly desolate and forlorn, as if he had aged several years in an instant. The resentment radiating from him was so thick it was practically dripping; if there had been a grave nearby, the occupant might have been startled right out of their coffin.

Because they were sitting so close, Ji Junhong could even feel waves of killing intent pulsing from the man. Had he not been there to keep the peace, Xia Wuji would likely have rushed over to stab Ji Huo in the kidneys.

"Care for a bite?" Ji Junhong produced two watermelons and handed one over.

Xia Wuji took it with a cold face and took a ferocious bite. His eyes lit up, and he began to eat even faster, though his expression remained stern.

*Could it be that watermelons are a rarity in the Dragon Kingdom? Or perhaps the ones over there don't taste as good? Or maybe he’s been starving on his journey here?*

Ji Junhong rubbed his chin, then tucked into his own watermelon with gusto.

Once they finished, the two men tossed the rinds over the cliff. With a casual wave of his hand, Ji Junhong conjured a small table laden with delicate pastries and two bottles of white porcelain-bottled wine. He had swiped these directly from the palace; back there, his unscrupulous subordinates were having a grand time. Mr. Wen was devouring his food with such glee that he was staring at his wine cup, leading the others in stripping off their outer robes to dance, caught up in the revelry.

"What is the meaning of this?" Xia Wuji stared at the pastries, his voice icy. "Do you think a bit of food is enough to brush me off?"

Ji Junhong chuckled. "Brother Xia, you jest. This is the custom of the Central Plains—when a friend comes from afar, one must naturally offer hospitality."

"Besides..." Ji Junhong gestured toward the two still brawling in the distance. "As the older brothers, it’s our job to resolve the problem. We can’t just let them go on fighting to the death like children."

Xia Wuji fell silent. He grabbed a piece of osmanthus cake and took a savage bite. His eyes brightened further. He reached for the porcelain bottle, took a small sip, paused, and then began to gulp it down, stuffing the osmanthus cake into his mouth at the same time.

Ji Junhong’s gaze grew more scrutinizing as he instinctively rubbed his chin. He recalled the few times he had met Lady Xia; she always had a healthy appetite and ate with great gusto. At the time, he had simply assumed it was because of Ji Huo’s excellent cooking. As for why she was always eating whenever she saw him, that was simple: his brother always made sure to visit right at mealtime.

Ji Junhong reached out again, producing a plate of roast chicken, two pounds of beef, a roast goose, and two side dishes, setting them all on the table. He said with a smile, "Take your time, no rush."

"Don't think that the Dragon Kingdom is poor," Xia Wuji muttered through a mouthful of meat. "We just rushed here from the border and haven't eaten for days, that’s all."

Ji Junhong laughed. "Brother Xia, how could you think that? I never once thought such a thing. This is truly just the Central Plains' way of treating a guest."

In the distance, the two were still locked in combat. Xia Ningchang aimed every strike at the back of Ji Huo’s head; looking at her form, it was clear she was trying to knock him out and drag him away. Ji Huo, of course, was having none of it and was resisting with all his might.

For a time, the two remained deadlocked.

On the cliff, as he watched, the intensity of Xia Wuji’s eating slowed. The vague sense of melancholic "snowflakes drifting" began to emanate from him once more. Seeing that the time was right—mostly because Xia Wuji was now full and the faint traces of killing intent had dissipated, replaced by a sense of utter existential despair—Ji Junhong asked with a smile:

"Brother Xia, what do you intend to do about this?"

"Kill him!" Xia Wuji replied without hesitation.

Ji Junhong gave a dry retort, "We’re discussing serious matters. Be reasonable."

Xia Wuji stared blankly at the duo in the sky. He could see clearly that while his younger sister’s strikes looked fierce, she was subconsciously holding back, as if terrified of truly hurting the other person. He knew that when the two of them sparred in the past, his sister had never held back like that, always leaving him bruised and grimacing in pain.

"What can I do? What else is there to do..." Xia Wuji murmured, his eyes lifeless as a statue, his tone sinking into a state of complete hopelessness.

Ji Junhong rubbed his chin. He realized that even if he ignored the Dragon Emperor now, his second brother would likely be in no danger. The Dragon Emperor would probably just crawl into some empty corner and lick his wounds like a stray dog.

However, that was not the outcome he desired.