Chapter 133: A Difficult Choice

Inside the carriage, Feng Yewu felt a prick of displeasure when she heard that Wei Nanqi was also offering such a suggestion. After all, she could somewhat understand Xiao Han proposing Lu Jue for the position of General of the North; whether it was out of nostalgia for the late Lu Youxu or a desire to see the Lu family restored to its former glory, it was human nature. But for Wei Nanqi to echo that sentiment was different.

"Do you also believe that I should appoint Lu Jue as the Great General of the North?" Feng Yewu asked, her voice seemingly soft, yet filled with the imposing authority of a monarch, tinged with an underlying chill.

Wei Nanqi remained composed, replying indifferently, "Your Majesty, although Young Master Lu lacks experience in leading troops in battle, he is quite familiar with the arts of strategy and formation."

Seeing Wei Nanqi turn to him, Lu Jue nodded silently. Once he had confirmed this, Wei Nanqi continued, "Though Your Majesty’s court appears stable, the Minister of War has met a tragic end, and the loyalties of various generals remain unpredictable. Young Master Lu’s devotion to Your Majesty is beyond question. If we were to choose another, we could never be certain of their true intentions. If Your Majesty must delegate military power, you must choose someone you can trust, for should that power fall into the wrong hands, the consequences would be unthinkable."

Wei Nanqi’s words caught Feng Yewu off guard, leaving her in a thoughtful silence. Had she only just arrived in this world, she would have prioritized the bigger picture, but now, Lu Jue had slowly found his way into her heart. Having endured so many trials and tribulations together, she could not bear the thought of him coming to harm because of her. Moreover, warfare was no child's play; Feng Yewu felt torn, unable to reach a decision.

"Enough. General Xiao, Lord Wei, you have both clearly laid out the pros and cons. I believe Your Majesty is tired. While this matter is urgent, it should not be decided until we return to the capital. Let Your Majesty rest for a while," Lu Jue said, smiling as he intervened to resolve the tension between the impatient Xiao Han and the helpless Wei Nanqi, ushering them out of the carriage.

"Lu Jue, am I being too indecisive?" Once they had stepped out, Feng Yewu looked at Lu Jue with complex emotions and asked softly. In truth, what Wei Nanqi had said was the logical path. With the current situation in the Northern Frontier, though King Changwu might be unaware, the ambitions of the King of Beichang were clear. Choosing the wrong commander now could lead to catastrophic results.

The general would undoubtedly be entrusted with the tally that commanded the million-strong army of the Ye Dynasty; a single defeat could mean total ruin. Seeing her hesitation and the flicker of confusion in her eyes, Lu Jue smiled gently and replied, "Your Majesty, do not overthink it. Decide based on what is in your heart, and I will support you."

Touched by his words, Feng Yewu’s expression softened as she realized something. "You no longer need to refer to yourself as a servant. Once we return to the capital, I will clear the Lu family's name."

Seeing the sparkle in Feng Yewu’s eyes, Lu Jue felt a warmth spread through his heart and nodded with a faint smile.

...

In the far north, a place where ordinary people would never dare to tread, the landscape was barren, with only a dozen tents pitched amidst the biting, howling winds.

Inside a massive central tent, an elderly man of the Tidi tribe brandished a scepter made from the bones of some prehistoric beast, chanting a string of obscure and difficult incantations. As he sang, strange red patterns began to emerge on his pale, weathered skin—complex and twisted, resembling a form of writing.

As the elder’s voice grew louder, five other elders, dressed in identical attire but of much smaller stature, surrounded him. Outside the great tent, the dense, gloomy clouds in the sky suddenly ceased their swirling, and within the thick vapor, countless eerie, red lightning-like patterns appeared. The massive clouds seemed to be manipulated by a mysterious, giant hand, shifting into ever-changing forms.

"Cough, cough, cough!"

A cough sounded from outside the tent. The Poison Saint, wrapped in a heavy cloak, walked in. Seeing the mystical display, a hint of contempt flickered in his eyes. "Old man, you were performing the same tricks when I visited decades ago. How is it that after all these years, you’re still doing the same thing?"

At Ou Yi’s mockery, the elder in the center slowly opened his eyes, and his strange chanting ceased. Outside the tent, the massive, churning storm clouds gradually dissipated, and snow began to blanket the desolate land once more.

The elder turned his head. Seeing Ou Yi, he showed no surprise, only a wise, faint smile. "The mysteries of heaven and earth are profound; how could they be grasped in a mere few decades?" This elder was the only shaman of the Tidi tribe, their holy man.

The elder rose slowly, leaning on his scepter. His hunched, massive frame, etched with the ravages of time, appeared remarkably serene.

"Wei Siyuan asked me to deliver this letter," Ou Yi said, walking toward the altar table. He casually tore a leg off a roasted sheep intended as a sacrifice, began eating it without a care, and tossed the letter to the old shaman.

"Presumptuous!" The Tidi guardians surrounding the shaman, all master-level warriors, barked in fury at Ou Yi’s disrespect toward the divine offerings.

"Hm?" Ou Yi glanced at them, his eyes narrowing. A cold, palpable aura of slaughter coalesced in the air, instantly turning the guardians pale and leaving them gasping for breath.

The old shaman took the letter, sensing Ou Yi’s killing intent. With a calm expression, he tapped his scepter gently against the ground. Rings of pale gray light rippled outward from his feet. In an instant, Ou Yi’s murderous aura was neutralized by the light. Once saved by the shaman, the guardians hurriedly knelt and kowtowed, their expressions filled with reverence.

"Very well, you may withdraw," the shaman commanded. He then walked with heavy steps to sit opposite Ou Yi. "Since the birth of our tribe, we have always adhered to the will of the gods. The slaughter in Lie City was truly a last resort; had we not done so, the survival of our people would have been in doubt." The shaman looked at the gluttonous Ou Yi with a sincere, almost repentant expression.

Watching the old man, Ou Yi sneered inwardly. If they hadn’t known each other for so long, he might have been fooled by this facade of benevolence. Years ago, when Ou Yi first arrived in the Northern Frontier, he had been filled with hatred and unleashed a massacre upon the Tidi tribe to vent his rage. Nearly half the tribe had been wiped out by his poisons. In the end, this shaman had appeared and used the very same methods he had just demonstrated to neutralize Ou Yi's toxins.