Le ciel est le rivage de la poussière mortelle

Chapitre 9

The woman held her head high with haughtiness, her gaze sweeping over the dragon's head as if she hadn't heard his question.

The gleaming tip of the sword, like a snake's tongue, darted across her chest, and a small pile of tattered clothes lay at her feet like snakeskin. She shivered.

Her chest was wrapped up like a rice dumpling, her abdomen was fair and round, and the only striking feature was the bloody whip marks on it. The soldier holding the whip silently lowered his head.

"Tsk tsk tsk!" Feilong shook his head slightly. A hint of panic flashed in the female prisoner's eyes. This was the effect he wanted. Of course, he also knew that behind him were a pack of hungry wolves.

“Okay, put the clothes on her,” he said.

The group of males, their necks stretched out like ducks, couldn't help but show disappointment.

"Send her to the Marshal." She was a stubborn woman, and besides, his men were no longer capable of killing this beautiful woman.

The tent was filled with a burnt smell; his piece of rabbit meat had turned into a charcoal, what a pity.

As he used his sword to lift the other half of the rabbit and roast it over the charcoal fire, the sound of soldiers' footsteps came from the doorway again.

"Reporting, General!"

"Speak!" Feilong said, somewhat displeased, his brows furrowing into small hills on his forehead.

"The marshal said that this woman should be given to the general as a slave."

Poor thing, his second piece of rabbit meat fell into the fire.

two,

Have you ever seen a female slave like this?

A pretty face colder than the snow on a mountaintop, and a pair of sharp, murderous eyes.

Is she holding a grudge against him for tearing her clothes with his sword?

It doesn't seem like it.

Even if he stripped her naked right now, she might remain unmoved.

Her hatred for him was an implicit hostile hatred, as well as a kind of disdain, contempt, and study.

When he saved the last half of his rabbit meat with a speed almost imperceptible to the naked eye, he saw the surprise in her eyes.

Someone who can observe such subtle details must be a master of combat.

Can you imagine what a dangerous enemy he's sleeping in the same tent with right now?

He had to be wary that she might cleanly and efficiently kill him while he was fast asleep.

His complexion was dull and pale, and his eyes were bloodshot. This was hardly a sight for General Feilong, the top expert in the Tang camp.

Therefore, everyone who met him was filled with surprise and questions.

It's inexplicable, and he can't explain it to anyone. He can't tell everyone that he was afraid his female slave would kill him, so he couldn't sleep at night or eat, and that's how he ended up like this.

The marshal asked with concern, "What's wrong? Didn't you sleep well?"

"Pfft!" Flying Tiger and Flying Leopard couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Hmph!" To laugh at me?! According to Fei Bao's later description, Fei Long's face had turned liver-colored.

In the military, status is not determined by rank, but by combat ability. A general in the field may disobey the emperor's orders, let alone others.

Therefore, no one dared to continue the act of pulling teeth from a tiger's mouth until he became enraged.

"Hmm," the marshal promptly changed the subject, beginning to deploy a new round of battle plans. The tug-of-war with the Western Xia Kingdom had lasted for half a year, and it would be best to reach a conclusion before winter arrived.

Generals Tiger and Leopard had already left the command tent. Flying Dragon remained seated.

The marshal deliberately acted as if he didn't know he was there, pretending to doodle on the battle map.

Is this old man looking for ants?!

"Hmm." He cleared his throat.

"Oh?" He feigned a sudden realization. "You didn't leave?"

"Can I not have that female slave?"

"A female slave?!"

Okay, I'll play dumb. "It's the one you gave me the other day."

"Why not? Not pretty enough? Not young enough?"

“You know it’s not because of these things.”

"Well, I'm just concerned about you. Wouldn't it be better to have someone take care of you?"

"Serve me?! Or rather, torture me. Do you think I'm living too comfortably?" I jumped up from my chair in a fit of excitement.

"Don't get excited, don't get excited. You're a general now, yet you still get excited so easily. Sit down, sit down."

"I'm your own flesh and blood, you wouldn't want me to die young, would you?"

"What are you saying? Do you even know who that female slave is?"

"A spy from the Western Xia Kingdom?"

"Princess Nanyuan of the Western Xia Kingdom".

He stared in astonishment, never expecting the old man to have such inside information.

"It would be great if you gave her to Flying Tiger and Flying Leopard. You would not only gain favor, but you might also be able to arrange a wonderful marriage."

“Those two lustful devils would surely tear her apart. I have my reasons for handing her over to you.”

"I……"

"Alright, alright." The old man walked out from behind the desk and patted him on the shoulder affectionately. "Hehe, I don't believe you can't beat her, how about it?!"

What else could he do? Feilong left the command tent with a bitter face.

three,

The wind made the banners above the tent crackle and flutter, and also stirred Feilong's silver battle robe, making Feilong's handsome and dashing appearance more eye-catching than ever before.

But Feilong was not tall, especially when he was sandwiched between the two iron towers.

The leopard placed its bear-like paws on his shoulders, or rather, pressed them down, as his body had already tilted slightly under that weight.

Feilong looked ahead and simply lifted his foot slightly. When he put his foot down, a scream was heard.

"Ah!!" Flying Leopard jumped to the side, clutching his foot and spinning around in pain.

Flying Tiger, being quite sensible, stepped aside and hesitated for a moment before saying, "We, oh, we wanted to go into your tent to have a drink."

"Where did this alcohol come from?! Drinking is forbidden in the military camp!"

"Tea is fine too, hot tea is fine, it's already getting cold today." Fei Hu raised his head and looked at the sky.

The sky is a beautiful blue with a few fluffy clouds; it's a lovely day. Would you like some tea? Please.

Flying Leopard was in a hurry and had already walked ahead. Flying Tiger, however, had no choice but to accompany Flying Dragon, slowly taking his time.

Feilong's tent wasn't far from the commander's tent, and Feibao was already parked at the entrance.

The soldiers guarding the door stopped him outside the tent.

"What? You won't let us in? Your master is right behind us!"

Flying Leopard started yelling loudly, his black face already swollen and turning purplish-red.

Feilong nodded, and his men put away their spears.

The light inside the tent dimmed slightly, and the flying leopard, like a wild beast searching for food, looked around.

"Hmm, where are they?"

Where are they?

"Reporting to the general, she has gone to the river to wash your clothes."

Will she take this opportunity to escape?

When Feilong threw off Feihu and Feibao, mounted his horse, and galloped to the riverbank, he saw a beautiful picture.

The river shimmered in the sunlight, weaving a silver net on its surface. On both banks were round pebbles and red and yellow wild grasses.

The female slave was washing clothes by the river.

A melodious, mournful sound of the xun (a type of ancient Chinese wind instrument) faintly enveloped the surrounding area.

The female slave stopped what she was doing and looked around. She saw the flying dragon, then turned away in disappointment.

He knew who could play such a captivating tune.

It was Shen Yu, his deputy and the marshal's behind-the-scenes strategist.

Two of his men appeared before him just in time.

"Didn't she do anything unusual?"

"Yes, General, no!"

He spurred his horse and followed the sound.

Upstream, Shen Yu sat on a bluestone slab.

Ten miles further up lies the border of the Western Xia.

He was pleased that Shen Yu was here.

Shen Yu raised her head and looked at him with a slight smile.

The gaze was so warm that it stirred a gentle ripple in his calm heart.

"It's a very beautiful tune, but who is it played for?" He dismounted and led his horse to his side.

“Of course, it’s the person who heard it,” Shen Yu said calmly.

Four,

Shen Yu's sudden coldness left him speechless for a moment. He simply sat silently on the blue stone beside him, lost in thought.

The deep, melodious sound of the xun (a type of ancient Chinese wind instrument) resounded all around.

In the distance, there is a grove of poplar trees, their leaves already turning a vibrant yellow, while the trunks appear increasingly white and desolate.

The music grew increasingly somber and distant, like a lament, evoking endless sorrow and grief in the listener's heart.