When love draws near, it's like snow

Chapter 62

"Fourth brother, this is my sworn brother, Ye Qingyang. He is not a peace envoy from the Song court." Zongwang explained gently with a smile in his eyes—I could tell that Zongwang doted on this younger brother of his.

"Second Brother, I think those cowards surnamed Zhao are already like frightened birds. If we apply a little more pressure, they will completely collapse. Why don't we stop waiting and give them a strong dose of medicine today, and end the peace talks quickly and decisively!" Jin Wuzhu suggested to Zongwang with a face full of disdain and confidence.

Upon hearing this, Zongwang pondered for a moment, not rushing to express his opinion, but instead turning his gaze to the middle-aged scholar who had entered the tent with Jin Wuzhu: "What Zongbi just said, I wonder if Supervisor Liu agrees?"

"This...?" The military supervisor surnamed Liu was clearly wary of my presence, his eyes darting left and right, his tone hesitant.

"You two talk, I'll go out for some fresh air first." I tactfully got up and walked outside—it was indeed somewhat inappropriate for a "Song person" like me to stay here while the Jurchens discussed important military and national affairs.

"No need." Zongwang said casually, stopping me from taking another step—I stood there awkwardly, caught in a dilemma.

Zongwang smiled and pressed me down to sit on the low couch, giving me a reassuring look. Then he turned to the other two and spoke in "bird language" with an air of nonchalance—ha, I never thought he could pull that off.

The three of them huddled together and whispered amongst themselves for a while before reaching a consensus. Jin Wuzhu, accompanied by Supervisor Liu, bowed to Zongwang and left Zongwang's command tent in high spirits.

"You must be bored out of your mind?" Zongwang looked at me knowingly.

"Just a little," I answered honestly. But now I wasn't afraid of being bored; what I wanted most was to find a warm, big bed and get a good night's sleep—but having just asked him for food, even with my thick skin, I was too embarrassed to immediately ask him for anything else. Strangely, in front of Huaiyuan, I could naturally ask him for whatever he wanted, as if making any unreasonable request was perfectly normal. I never cared about my image—after all, I had long since lost all sense of decorum in front of Huaiyuan. Sigh! I wonder how Huaiyuan is doing now?! He must be utterly disappointed and heartbroken by now!

Lost in thought, I was suddenly confronted by a large, handsome face looming close to my eyes—Zong Wang raised an eyebrow, looking at me with a puzzled expression: "What are you thinking about? Didn't you hear me talking to you?"

"Huh? Oh. What did you just say?" I snapped out of my daze, quickly forcing a smile and trying to sound cheerful—like I always say, what's done is done. After all, Zongwang is my sworn brother, so no matter the outcome of the peace talks, my life should be safe. As for Huaiyuan, I'll have to figure out how to get back there first.

"So, do you want to watch the show?" Zongwang sighed, feigning disappointment as he looked at me. "It seems you're not interested?!"

"What's going on? Why don't you tell me?" I really wanted to tell him that I wasn't interested. However, seeing how enthusiastic he seemed, I couldn't refuse, so I just gave him a few perfunctory replies.

"Come with me!" To my surprise, without saying a word, he grabbed my hand and led me out of the tent.

Ignoring the astonished looks of the many Jin soldiers, Zongwang held my hand all the way until we reached a flat, open high ground before letting go. Because it had just rained, the ground was a mess of snow mixed with yellow earth, making it muddy and uneven. A north wind blew, banners fluttered, and a group of people were already lined up, waiting for Zongwang's arrival.

Zongwang slowly walked to the center of the hall and sat down on the large, high chair covered with a tiger skin. Zhao Gou remained relatively calm, but Zhang Bangchang and his entourage were pale and trembling. Seeing Zongwang seated, they immediately stepped forward and bowed respectfully. Zhang Bangchang respectfully presented the peace treaty that Zhao Huan had already drafted. He then faced north towards the emperor of the Great Jin Dynasty and performed the homage ceremony before standing aside with his hands at his sides, awaiting Zongwang's judgment.

"Your Highness, is this Prince Kang? Please have a seat." Zongwang spoke with an air of leisure, as if he were a host warmly inviting guests: "Your Highness has come from afar. I have been preoccupied with military affairs and have not been able to greet you properly. I am truly sorry for my lack of courtesy. I hope Your Highness will forgive my insolence."

"You're too kind, Marshal. I am deeply humbled." — Facing the fierce Jin soldiers who filled the square with mockery in their eyes and wielded sharp spears and gleaming steel swords, Prince Kang, Zhao Gou, forced a smile, but the smile could not reach his eyes.

Zongwang stopped speaking to him and simply clapped his hands lightly twice. Instantly, dozens of Jin soldiers rushed into the arena. With swift and skillful movements, they erected gates made of two wooden pillars, each about ten feet high, on both sides of the high ground, with a circular hole in the middle covered by a net. They also set up more than a dozen large drums around the perimeter.

Two young men dressed in colorful clothes, each holding a red flag, stood in the middle of the field—I was a little confused at first, but I gradually understood. It turned out that the spectacle Zongwang wanted me to watch was polo: what's commonly known as ball game. Everything was arranged in order, and two rows of soldiers filed out from both sides, each carrying a gold and a red lacquered mallet, dressed in yellow and red outfits. Even their horses were divided into red and yellow, a truly beautiful sight. After bowing to Zongwang in unison, they began chasing a colorful ball, running and weaving across the field.

Under these circumstances, how could Zhao Gou be in the mood to watch the game? He kept glancing at me, and I had no choice but to turn my head away to avoid his gaze—I really couldn't help him with his situation!

Suddenly, cheers erupted in the distance, followed by the simultaneous beating of ten thousand iron drums. I craned my neck and gazed into the distance—and saw Jin Wuzhu fully clad in armor, holding a gleaming halberd, and riding a jet-black steed, looking exceptionally handsome and full of vigor.

Jin Wuzhu, his expression arrogant and full of confidence, slowly surveyed the surrounding area. With a light wave of his right arm, he spurred his horse's flanks, and the horse, like an arrow, led a battalion of Jin soldiers westward in a wild charge. In an instant, ten thousand horses galloped, their roar shaking the heavens.

Seeing the Jin army's overwhelming strength, Zhao Gou gritted his teeth, his handsome face turning a pale blue-purple. I sighed softly, remaining silent, and looked towards the field. The red team had scored first and had already taken the lead.

"Commander-in-Chief! Commander-in-Chief! Commander-in-Chief!" The crowd outside the field began to chant Zong Wang's name in unison, presumably to invite him to come down and participate in the competition.

Zongwang stole a glance at me, smiled, and shook his head, feigning refusal—what's with the act? He clearly wants to show off! I rolled my eyes inwardly, but outwardly smiled at him and gave him an encouraging look—let's end this torturous farce quickly! I really didn't want to stay any longer. I didn't want to see either the arrogance of the Jurchens or the cowardice of the Song people.

Amidst the clamor of the Jin drums, Zongwang finally stepped down from his chair and entered the arena. His mount had already been brought outside—a pure white horse, without a single stray hair, making the rider appear even more like jade and the horse like a dragon. At this moment, the white horse snorted impatiently and growled excitedly. He gently spurred the horse and rode into the arena, like a dragon entering the water, freely gliding through the crowd.

A streak of colorful light flashed as a member of the Yellow Team struck the ball in front of Zong Wang. Zong Wang reacted swiftly, subtly shifting his body on horseback and striking the ball with his staff. The ball arced through the air, flying far towards the opponent's goal. Instantly, the horses neighed, drums roared, and the sounds of hooves, drums, and shouts mingled together, mingling with the swirling snow and mud—a fierce battle was about to begin.

Upon closer inspection, I saw that both sides had six players, excluding one goalkeeper. The Yellow Team was using a 3-2-1 formation, primarily focused on offense. The Red Team, having abandoned their initial aggressive approach, was now using a 2-1-3 formation, presumably aware of Zong Wang's strength and adopting a defensive strategy.

After Zongwang struck the ball with his staff, he immediately spurred his horse forward, followed by several riders. Amidst the clatter of horses, a streak of red suddenly burst forth from the side. He braced himself in the stirrups, almost touching the ground, and swiftly reached the target, intercepting the ball mid-air with his staff and striking it with ease. The colorful ball gracefully veered through the air and hurtled towards the yellow team's net.

What a remarkable Zongwang! He remained calm under pressure. With a light tap of his foot, he leaped from his saddle, swift as a bird, and pursued the ball. With a deft flick of his staff, he snatched it away. His magnificent steed, like a celestial horse soaring through the sky, had already arrived. Zongwang dismounted, dribbled past a red team player, and stopped the ball at the end of his staff. With a light and elegant swing, he struck the ball, and with a "whoosh," it swished through the net—a point!

The red team cheered with joy, while the yellow team returned dejected and dejected. I couldn't help but chuckle—if Zong Wang had been born in modern times, he wouldn't necessarily have been a general, but he could at least have been a famous football star. Perhaps, our national football team qualifying for the World Cup wouldn't have been so difficult!

Both sides lined up, ready to attack again, when suddenly a great commotion arose in the distance, banners fluttered, and thousands of war drums sounded in unison, creating an overwhelming atmosphere. A black lightning bolt arrived in an instant, and the spirited young man in heavy armor on horseback was none other than Jin Wuzhu, who had just led his troops into battle.

His battle robe was stained with blood, and his halberd hung on the side of his horse. His waist was bulging, as if something was tied there, and blood was dripping down his waist. The bloodstains quickly stained the snow on the ground and then quietly blended into the muddy sand. The smell of blood made my stomach churn, and I almost vomited.

"You're back?" Zong Wang smiled faintly.

"I have fulfilled my mission!" Jin Wuzhu laughed arrogantly, then suddenly untied a cloth bag from his waist and casually tossed it towards Prince Kang, Zhao Gou. The bag rolled a few times before stopping at my feet—and out of it fell a hideous human head, its gleaming white teeth bared in anger, bright red blood still trickling from between them…

"Ah ...

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I still can't type an ellipsis because I'm using Wubi input method, and it turns into a period. Xiaoyu, just bear with it. OK?

Haha, it's fixed now, it's working!

P.S.: Regarding the team divisions, I just made it up based on my own assumptions. I meant three forwards, one center-back, and two defenders constitute the main attacking force. Or two forwards, one center-back, and three defenders constitute the main defensive force. I don't know if that's correct? Ahem, ahem, please don't scold me if I'm wrong! I don't know anything about football!

[Volume 4 Finale: Chapter 7 Plum Blossoms Falling on the Flute]

"How is Qingyang? Why hasn't he woken up yet?!" In my hazy state, I heard Zong Wang's voice, low and slightly anxious.

"Uh, my lord. Miss Ye fainted because she was suddenly frightened, causing her heart and spirit to become disordered and her mind to have nowhere to rest. She should be fine after a short rest." The owner of this voice sounded familiar—that's right, it's Wu Chun!

"But more than ten hours have passed, why haven't you woken up yet? Could you have made a wrong diagnosis?!" Zongwang seemed relieved, but still asked with some unease—Ah! Big brother, I'm fine, I'm awake! I was about to call Zongwang, but Wuchun's next words changed my mind.

“But, my lord,” Wu Chun’s voice clearly hesitated, as if he had considered it carefully, choosing his words cautiously, “we have reached a peace agreement with the Song court. We must cross the river and return home as agreed. However, given Miss Ye’s current health condition, a long journey is not advisable. I wonder what my lord intends to do with Miss Ye?!”—What does this mean? Does Zong Wang intend to take me back to Yanjing? No! I cried out inwardly—if I go to Yanjing, wouldn’t that mean I’ll never see Huaiyuan again?! I cautiously opened my eyes a crack—this seemed to still be Zong Wang’s command tent. My elder brother sat upright at the table with his back to me, Wu Chun standing below him with his hands at his sides, looking terrified. There was another person, but because he was too far away, I could only make out a gray hem of clothing.

"Didn't you say there was nothing seriously wrong? Why can't you go on the long journey with the army?!" Zong Wang's pleasant, slightly magnetic voice was clearly displeased as he coldly questioned Wu Chun, "Is it because she's a woman from the Song Dynasty? Are you afraid people will blame you if you take her back?!" —Wait, when did he find out I was a woman? Oh my god! Now I dared not say a word and could only continue to play dead.

“Your subordinate wouldn’t dare! Miss Ye’s fainting spell is indeed nothing serious. However, I just took her pulse and found it to be weak and thready, indicating an excess of yin and coldness within, a deficiency of yang energy, and internal damage to her spleen and lungs due to worry and depression. Coupled with the external cold, forcing her to travel could lead to chronic illness and harm her health, which would be unwise.” Wu Chun spoke at length, and while I only vaguely understood, I generally realized he was against Zong Wang taking me back to Yanjing!