The first light of dawn had barely touched the eaves when the diplomatic hostel housing the Eastern Liao delegation became a hive of activity.
Inside the primary guest quarters, the doors were bolted tight, yet boisterous, coarse laughter leaked through the cracks.
“What kind of spineless dogs the Great Chen civil officials are—don’t tell me you lot still haven’t figured it out?”
Wu Wei slapped his thigh, the fleshy ridges of his face quivering with his laughter. “Greedy for bribes, terrified of death. Mention the thunder of Eastern Liao hooves and they start shaking like leaves. Is this not common knowledge throughout the world?”
“The Envoy is right! That Chancellor Gu is the ultimate specimen of the lot!”
“I heard that Gu person is nothing but a pretty face who climbed the ranks through his sister’s bedsheets. He didn’t even dare to come out of the city to greet us. I bet he’ll be pissing his pants at the banquet this afternoon!”
“Heh, the Emperor fears him, his colleagues loathe him… Aside from a few bootlicking sycophants, he hasn’t a single decent man at his side. Why wouldn’t he be afraid?”
“So we just put a blade to his neck!”
Wu Wei ran a thick, calloused finger across his own throat. “Isn’t Gu Huaiyu a famous spineless coward? Why play games? Scare him a little, and he’ll probably hand over the annual tribute immediately!”
Princess Mingzhu leaned against the window. Though no longer a young girl, she remained graceful and alluring. Twirling a lock of hair around her slender finger, she sneered, “Do you really think these Chen people are as stupid as you are?”
“If scaring them was enough to make them kneel and hand over the tribute, why would we have mobilized our entire army to come here?”
As she spoke, she glanced at Yelü, who was playing with a dagger nearby. Her voice dropped a few octaves. “Since the Emperor fears him and his colleagues loathe him, why should we be the ones to get our hands dirty?”
Yelü didn’t look up. He merely toyed with a silver blade between his fingers. The slender edge spun with fluid, mesmerizing grace.
For a moment, the room fell so silent that a pin drop would have echoed. Everyone was waiting for him to speak.
“I once saw a wolf pack in the Northwest,” Yelü said suddenly, the dagger coming to a sharp halt. “The alpha of a pack should be the strongest, the most powerful. But that alpha was so thin you could count its ribs, and it had a mangled leg.”
“The entire pack feared it. Do you know why?”
Wu Wei’s Adam’s apple bobbed heavily, but he didn’t dare speak.
Yelü flicked the knife onto the table. The blade bit deep into the sandalwood surface with a resonant thrum. “Because he was vicious enough. Once he bit down, he never let go until the prey was dead. He made sure every wolf remembered the price of challenging him.”
The atmosphere in the room grew eerie and suffocating. The others instinctively lowered their heads, remembering the bloody path this young “interpreter” had carved to reach his current position.
Yelü stood up, a pleasant smile crossing his face. “By all means, try it. Go ahead and challenge this alpha.”
“I am quite curious to see exactly how vicious he is.”
To be able to suppress someone like Pei Jingyi—a man who crawled out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood—this Great Chen Chancellor must be ruthless beyond imagination.
The noon banquet was held in the Hall of Sublime Virtue, the grand venue Great Chen reserved specifically for receiving foreign envoys.
According to ancient protocol, for the ceremony of an alliance, the Son of Heaven should preside, accompanied by the Chancellor, with civil and military officials in attendance to show the utmost solemnity.
Wu Wei intentionally ordered the procession to circle the palace gates three extra times. It wasn’t until the sun was high in the sky that he finally stepped into the palace, laughing loudly.
“It seems the Emperor and Chancellor of Great Chen are going to have to wait for us today!”
Wu Wei stroked his beard and roared with laughter. Behind him, the rest of the Eastern Liao delegation joined in the mockery, feeling as though they had already seized the upper hand.
But the moment they stepped into the Hall of Sublime Virtue, their laughter froze as if hit by a sudden, icy gale.
The hall was filled. The civil and military officials were already lined up in two solemn rows, dressed in their finest robes, standing in silent discipline.
Only the two primary seats—those representing the Emperor and the Chancellor—were empty.
They had intended to arrive late to make the Great Chen court wait, but they hadn’t expected their hosts to be even later.
This unexpected move caused their plan of humiliation to fall flat.
Qin Zijin stepped forward slowly and bowed. “Please, honored guests, take your seats and wait. His Majesty and Chancellor Gu will arrive shortly.”
Though the delegation felt disgruntled, they could only take their seats in frustration. After all, they had arrived late themselves; they had no grounds to complain.
As the silk curtains swayed, a line of dancers filed in, their steps graceful and their bodies supple as willows in the wind. Each movement made them look like ladies stepping out of a classical palace scroll.
The music was soft and the dance was slow, designed to showcase the scholarly elegance of Great Chen—subtle, refined, and rhythmic.
To the Eastern Liao delegation, it was a lullaby.
“What kind of funeral dirge is this?”
Wu Wei suddenly slammed his wine cup onto the table. Pointing at the dancers to stir up trouble, he bellowed, “Is this how Great Chen treats its guests?”
The atmosphere in the hall instantly turned brittle.