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Wu Qing almost choked. “My lady, I wouldn’t dare!”
“For all these years, my husband has never said it aloud, but I know he misses the days when he commanded thousands of troops,” A’Jin said softly. “It was hard enough for him to finally get another chance to soar like a dragon in the open sea. I’ve dragged him down long enough. I can’t keep doing it over and over. If you refuse me, I’ll come looking for you every single day.”
Wu Qing paced in place for a long time, hands half-lifted, dropping, lifting again. At last, he sagged in defeat. “Fine, fine. I’ll sort it out. Just… don’t let it slip.”
* * *
By the time the grain convoy reached Xinhuang, the setting sun had just kissed the mountain peaks, its last light clinging to the tips of the ridges. In the blink of an eye, it was about to slip away.
Their timing was perfect.
Xinhuang was no more than a little town of roughly a thousand people. When several hundred grain wagons rumbled in one after another, they filled all the open ground west of town. Counting both the laborers and the escort soldiers, the convoy’s headcount actually exceeded that of the locals.
After a full day on the road, every man and beast in the transport unit was exhausted. The moment they stopped, they needed water, food, and rest. The whole town was thrown into chaos. Chickens scattered, dogs barked, and people shouted over one another.
A small place like this had very limited capacity. That was why news of the convoy’s arrival was always sent ahead at least...
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