After marrying a sickly and powerful official, Jiaojiao cries every day

Sang Muye had been hiding in the tattered curtains of the dilapidated temple. Now, with the sword light as bright as day, he had nowhere to hide.

He was so scared that he hugged himself tightly, his slightly curly hair stuck to his forehead, his pretty face was pale, and he looked really panic-stricken and pitiful.

Even the falcon lying on his shoulder lowered its head and trembled.

"It's you."

Feng Qiwu stared at him. The sword energy he had swung had not yet dissipated, and some of it was still circling in the temple, as cold and brutal as his eyes.

Sang Muye nodded hurriedly, "It's me, it's me."

He moved forward step by step, but when he met Feng Qiwu Senhan's eyes, he immediately stopped, as timid as a newborn kitten.

"Your uncle's people didn't come, but you did. You are really amazing." Wen Ranyan ate lotus seeds slowly and spoke at the right time.

The lotus seeds are crisp, tender and plump, light and sweet in the mouth, and have an excellent taste.

Hearing this, Sang Muye was quite proud, his misty peach blossom eyes were bright and shining, as if there were stars crushed in them: "Yeah, I also think I am much better than my uncle at this moment."

Wen Ranyan twisted a tender lotus seed, and her fingertips were stained with a sweet fragrance: "You just said you wanted to discuss a business with us, what business is it?"

Feng Qiwu raised his eyebrows slightly, with the long sword still held horizontally, and Sang Muye did not dare to take a step forward.

He could only stand there, pulling a piece of dry grass and fiddling with it from time to time, and said with a bit of grievance: "Miaojiang has never liked war, and has always lived in a corner, not caring about worldly affairs. If I can make the Miao army stop chasing, and promise that Miaojiang will not form an alliance with the Turks and the Western Regions, the Miaojiang cavalry will not set foot in Beilang..."

"Can you also promise me that Beilang's cavalry will not approach the city?"

Having said this, Sang Muye slowly raised his eyes, his peach blossom eyes were moist and bright, filled with some sincerity.

"Can you take charge?"

Wen Ranyan looked at him, her charming eyes showing a glimmer of confusion, and she smiled seductively: "Now, your uncle is the king of Miaojiang. I see that he is also the kind of stubborn and vindictive person. He hates Princess Jin'an and Beilang. Will he listen to your advice?"

That day in the inn, Yang Xuelian didn't care about Sang Muye's life at all and directly ordered the arrows to be shot.

The light in Sang Muye's eyes dimmed a little: "I can't persuade my uncle."

Wen Ranyan put the lotus seeds into her mouth, and smiled more tenderly, "Since I can't persuade him, how can I do this business?"

She tilted her head to glance at Feng Qiwu, only to see him leaning lazily on one side, playing with the sword in his hand. He looked bored and it was unclear whether he had heard Sang Muye's words or not.

There was a pause.

Sang Muye swept away his previous dejection, and his peach blossom eyes were suddenly filled with a halo of light. The hidden edge also emerged and reached its peak in an instant.

He said: "Since persuasion is useless, I am willing to be the one who stops my uncle. I am the young master of Miaojiang, and there are naturally people in the army who support me. If I give orders, they will follow."

His uncle had been brutal and cruel when he ascended to power. Now, he had taken the initiative to form an alliance with the other two countries and wanted to invade Beilang. Naturally, the faction in the clan that advocated peace and stability would not allow it.

Those who are following now are only doing so under the pressure of their uncle's authority. If he could come forward and make the decision at this moment, those who advocate peace would definitely follow.

By then, if we can stop my uncle, we can also save Miaojiang from the invasion of war.

"Are you going to break up with your uncle?" Wen Ranyan sat up straight, his eyes flickering with light, and his interest grew.

Sang Muye stroked the falcon on his shoulder and said with a smile: "It's not a falling out, right? I just want to use force to help my uncle turn back and stop him from making the same mistake again."

"Okay, but I'm not the monarch of Beilang, so I can't make the decision."

Wen Ranyan heard a long and casual laugh. She glanced at Feng Qiwu and said, "This is the one who can make the decision."

Feng Qiwu leaned casually, with her red robe draped loosely over her shoulders, looking lazy and decadent yet dignified.

He looked at Sang Muye leisurely, his eyes dark and deep, with a hint of mischievous smile in them, "Since you said you want to do business, do you have any chips to bring?"

Sang Muye raised his eyebrows: "Isn't Miaojiang's promise enough?"

Feng Qiwu stared at him, his eyebrows sharp, and his tone was vague: "It's better to be practical. For us, even if Yang Xuelian doesn't withdraw his troops and continues to chase us, we can still leave Miaojiang safely."

"Even if your three-nation alliance comes to the gates of the city, I, Beilang, will not be afraid. I will naturally meet you head-on. Thousands of cavalry will surely crush your imperial city to the ground and destroy your country."

"So this is not an equal business, but you are begging us."

His eyes were bright and captivating, like a sword that had been unsheathed and drunk blood, sharp and piercing—

The night breeze blows gently.

Although there was a fire in the dilapidated temple, it was as cold as winter, and the air was dull and depressing.

Sang Muye couldn't help but stop smiling, his peach blossom eyes flickered, and he became more serious. "What do you mean by that?"

Feng Qiwu's narrow and long eyes tilted slightly, and a faint smile suddenly appeared in her eyes filled with cold light: "Since you are asking for it, you should show your chips instead of making verbal promises."

He raised his eyelids and said, "Besides, Yang Xuelian is the King of Miao after all, and he has many people he can use. Even if someone supports you, you have no real power in your hands, so how many can you mobilize?"

Sang Muye opened his lips slightly, unable to speak.

He really couldn't mobilize many people.

If you want to compete with your uncle, you will definitely face many difficulties, just like walking on a steep cliff. If you are not careful, you may lose your life.

But in order to prevent him from making the same mistake again and allow the Miao people to live and work in peace, he had to do this.

Feng Qiwu saw his hesitation and struggle, and said slowly: "If this deal is successful, I will have to secretly send someone to help you. It's so troublesome, I can't just make a verbal promise."

"I heard that you Miaojiang recently discovered a gold mine. It would be a great thing if we could mine it together. I'm not greedy, 50-50 is fine. I also heard that you Miaojiang has many hot springs, which are very effective in maintaining health and keeping youth. It would be even better if I could get one."

He spoke neither hurriedly nor slowly, with great patience, like an experienced hunter, slowly testing people's temper.

Although his demands seemed numerous, they would not harm the lifeline of Miao, nor would they push people too far.

Sang Muye bit his lip and for a moment felt Feng Qiwu's cunning.

It sounds acceptable to put forward conditions but stop at the right time. However, if you accept it easily, you will feel upset.

"What if I don't agree?" Sang Muye frowned and tried to struggle.

"By then, the Beilang Iron Cavalry will have conquered the Miao Territory and taken all the supplies. You will have no choice but to allow it."

Feng Qiwu raised his eyelids, and there was a murderous aura lingering around him. The majestic and sharp murderous aura swept with the wind, captivating people's hearts, and it didn't seem like he was joking.

Sang Muye staggered due to the shock.