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Hong Chenglue’s face twitched. “Enough!”
Though Wu Qing had handed over the Cold Dove Powder at A’Jin’s own request and had later reported the matter to Hong Chenglue, He Lingchuan was still right. A’Jin knew nothing about poisons. Wu Qing could easily have fobbed her off with a sugar pill. Why, then, had he given her a genuine lethal toxin?
Who, exactly, had wanted A’Jin dead?
“When armies clash, the disaster should not extend to family members. In that, my father acted badly. He was too calculating, too eager to weigh gains and losses.” He Lingchuan drew a slow breath. “I don’t know what feud or entanglement lies between you and whichever great figure in Beijia stands behind this. But wrongs have their source, and debts their proper debtor. My father only abducted A’Jin. He didn’t kill her, and he had no intention of killing her.”
He Chunhua had only wanted to use A’Jin to force Hong Chenglue to retreat. If he had killed her outright and made a deadly enemy of Hong Chenglue for nothing, what possible benefit would that have brought him?
Setting aside questions of morality, if He Chunhua’s plan had succeeded in driving Hong Chenglue back, far fewer soldiers would have died in the Battle of Han River.
Was that not, from his father’s perspective, the best solution after weighing all the costs?
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