Everyone understood his ambition. The Great Khan was still a babe in arms. No matter how much these old men despised him or wished to pull him down, they had to swallow their pride for now, though they took every chance to oppose him.
The Censor huffed and fell silent.
As the Regent’s entourage returned to the city, they found a red-lacquered wedding sedan blocked in the middle of the road.
The city guards were under orders to strictly inspect all outgoing traffic. They wanted to see the bride’s face, but the porters were resistant. Han customs were strict—once the veil was on, no other man could look at the bride on her wedding day. The groom himself hadn’t even seen her yet before she was to be taken to the Thousand-man Commander; how could the porters let the guards see her? If the Commander found out, wouldn’t they be the ones punished?
Yelü Chi had seen plenty of these trivial disputes between Liao and Han. He rode his horse at the back of the procession as the crowds on either side knelt, shouting in unison, “Greetings, Prince!”
Yelü Chi had no time for trifles. He waved his hand to signal his men forward. But as he passed the sedan chair resting on the ground, he suddenly caught a faint, almost imperceptible scent.
A cool, bitter-sweet fragrance—it felt like a taste on the tip of his tongue, instantly reminding him of a certain someone.
He jerked the reins. The suddenness of his dismount startled the city guards, who had just begun to rise, back onto their knees. “P-Prince…”
Yelü Chi narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, staring at the wedding sedan. “What is happening here?”
“Reporting to the Prince,” a guard replied. “We are inspecting travelers and carriages exiting the city as ordered.”
Yelü Chi walked toward the sedan, one step at a time. The faint fragrance became clearer, threading through his breaths. He stopped abruptly at the sedan window, his voice turning cold. “When did I ever say you should lift a bride’s veil?”
The guards began knocking their heads against the ground, apologizing profusely.
Yelü Chi looked at the red curtains, which were sealed tight. The figure inside was completely invisible. He suddenly softened his voice, speaking in perfect, elegant Han Chinese: “My apologies for the disturbance. These crude warriors don’t know the rules. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive them.”
The “Old Bones” of the Imperial Court were stunned. The Regent of Eastern Liao was actually being humble and gentle? They had never seen Yelü Chi act so amiably.
Even more shocking was the dead silence from inside the sedan. The “bride” didn’t show the slightest bit of gratitude, treating the Regent as if he were nothing at all.
Yelü Chi didn’t get angry. He glanced at the kneeling guards. “How about this? If the lady would kindly show her hand for inspection, it will satisfy the search requirements without breaking decorum. What do you say?”
Even those who usually had no interest in etiquette were now piqued by Yelü Chi’s rare attitude. Just who was sitting in that sedan to make the Regent act so low?
Everyone held their breath. The crimson curtain moved slightly, and a snow-white wrist emerged. It looked as if it were carved from frozen cream, with a palm flushed pink like rose dew. The fingers were long and clean, as beautiful as exquisite porcelain.
The ancients spoke of “seeing a leopard through a tube” to glimpse the whole; today, it was “judging a beauty by her hand.” That single hand was enough to make one imagine what sort of peerless beauty was hidden inside.
Yelü Chi suddenly leaned down, his nose almost touching the wrist as he took a deep breath. The beauty in the sedan seemed unaware, letting him approach.
Without warning, Yelü Chi pinched the hand. In that flash of a second, the hand suddenly flipped over and delivered a sharp thwack to his own—
The movement was crisp, decisive, and utterly merciless.
It was a subconscious, instinctive reaction.
The sound made the surrounding Eastern Liao men jump. When had they ever seen such a fierce and wild “bride”? To dare strike the Prince’s hand in public was a death wish!
However, Yelü Chi’s lips curled into a smile, his mood seemingly improving. He stood up, stroking the reddened back of his hand, and personally brushed aside a dangling silk cord for the sedan. “Let them pass.”
As the wedding sedan wobbled out of the city gate, the smile on Yelü Chi’s face vanished.
He clapped his hands to summon a personal guard and gave a cold command: “Send word to all prefectures. Search for a Han man named Pei Du. He is nine feet tall with deep-set eyes and a high bridge to his nose—”
“To whoever brings me his head: ten thousand gold pieces and the title of Thousand-man Commander.”
He paused, then added, “Remember, if you encounter his companion, do not harm him in the slightest. I only want Pei Du’s life.”
