Chapter 59

Rolan herself was a beauty of national color and fragrance. At this moment, she looked weak and pitiful, which made people even more sympathetic.

However, Ning Wuxie’s mind was not on Rolan at this moment. He smiled faintly and said unconsciously, "How do you know that the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl can't meet? They meet every day."

Rolan, who was feeling sad, glanced at Ning Wuxie and exclaimed in surprise, "How does Master know?"

"Huh? Know what?"

Ning Wuxie came back to his senses and saw Rolan staring at him with wide eyes. He scratched his head, wondering what he had said.

"It's about the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl meeting every day."

Rolan looked at Ning Wuxie. She had seen demons and ghosts and knew that Ning Wuxie was not an ordinary person, with some cultivation. She wondered if Ning Wuxie knew the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl. When she was bored, she had also heard some mythological stories and knew that there were immortals who descended from heaven. Perhaps Ning Wuxie was one of those immortals.

Ning Wuxie glanced at Rolan, who was deep in thought, and didn’t know what she was thinking. He smiled and said, "You mean that? In the myth, it says that one day in heaven is a year on earth. See, we have the Seventh of July every year, but in heaven, it’s only been one day. The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl meet every day, so they meet every day, right?"

Rolan was taken aback. Is that how it is? But thinking about it, one day in heaven is a year on earth, which seemed to make some sense. However, something still felt off, and she couldn’t figure it out.

Suddenly, Ning Wuxie, who was drinking tea, narrowed his eyes, took a sip of tea, put the cup on the table, stood up, and walked toward Chen Qinglong’s table.

Chen Qinglong, who was drinking and joking with his brothers, noticed Ning Wuxie approaching and stood up, "Master?"

At the table, there were more than ten people, all of whom were brothers brought back by Chen Qinglong. Each of them had some martial arts skills and a fierce aura, having been seasoned soldiers who had fought on the battlefield. A soldier who hasn’t been to the battlefield is always a new recruit, no matter how well-trained. Without battle experience, they remain new recruits.

New recruits who haven’t seen blood and those who have survived the battlefield have distinctly different auras.

These people didn’t show the same reverence for Ning Wuxie as Chen Qinglong did; instead, they felt more gratitude. To them, it was a transaction: Ning Wuxie was the master of the manor, and they were the guards. They protected the manor, and Ning Wuxie paid them.

After being a soldier for a long time, one develops a certain roughness. Moreover, they had been bandits, making it even harder to change this roughness.

Chen Qinglong stood up, but these people only stopped their noise and drinking, looking at Ning Wuxie, showing a certain attitude.

Ning Wuxie glanced at these people and then shifted his gaze to Chen Qinglong, speaking calmly, "It’s time to get to work."

Chen Qinglong was taken aback and then realized what Ning Wuxie meant. He asked, "Master, is it Shen Faxing?"

"Yep!" Ning Wuxie nodded and then glanced at Ning Wushuang, who couldn’t hold his liquor, frowning, "Drink less in the future."

"Yes, Cousin." Ning Wushuang, startled by Ning Wuxie’s gaze, broke out in a cold sweat, losing most of his drunkenness, and smiled awkwardly.

"Get your brothers ready. Shen Faxing is really daring to make a move."

Ning Wuxie’s face turned cold, and he lightly shouted at Chen Qinglong, then moved quickly toward the manor’s exit.

Ning Wushuang picked up his iron staff and hurriedly followed.

Seeing Ning Wuxie and Ning Wushuang leave, Chen Qinglong turned to his brothers, who were still sitting at the table, and shouted coldly, "What are you looking at? Get your weapons ready. If you don’t perform well tonight, I’ll kick you all out. Don’t embarrass yourselves here."

The burly men, who were in a daze, scattered with a loud noise. Moments later, they returned with their weapons, gathering before Chen Qinglong. As a former bandit leader, Chen Qinglong still had some authority. Seeing his subordinates dressed and armed, his expression improved. He picked up a long saber and led them in the direction Ning Wuxie and Ning Wushuang had gone.

There was no need to search for the direction. Outside the manor, a large fire was burning, shining brightly in the night.

In the suddenly empty courtyard, Rolan stood up and looked into the distance, her eyes filled with worry.

The tenant village was at the foot of the green mountain opposite the manor, on the side of the rice fields. There were about ten households, living in huts. At this moment, the village, which should have been peaceful, was burning fiercely. The thatched houses were already turning to ashes in the flames.

About eighty people, old and young, were driven out of the village, surrounded by a group of armored soldiers. There were fewer than a hundred of them, but they all had a fierce and capable aura.

A scholar in a green robe and gray gown was riding a yellow horse, standing next to an old man in his fifties. The old man was tall and wore silver armor, with a red cape and a green-maned horse. He held a curved saber, looked fierce and imposing, with a hooked nose and deep-set eyes, exuding a worldly and experienced air. A scar on his slightly yellow face made him look even more terrifying in the firelight.

"Lord, forcibly conscripting able-bodied men is not a good strategy. The people in Jiangnan are gentle and not as fierce and martial as those in the north. Moreover, life in Jiangnan is much better than in the north, so there are not many displaced people. Forcibly conscripting able-bodied men will only incite public anger."

The soldiers were pulling out the tall and strong men from the villagers. If anyone resisted, they would be scolded or whipped, their ferocity causing the children to cry and the elderly and women to glare at them with anger, but they dared not speak out.

The old scholar, squeezed among the crowd, watched these vicious bandits, his hands sweating, and occasionally glanced toward the manor.

Shen Faxing sat motionless on his horse, looking at the angry but helpless villagers and sighed lightly, "If they were the fierce men of the north, they would fight to the death. Du Fuwei, that old fox, bullies the weak but cowers before the Tang. Once he entered Chang'an, the Jianghuai region fell to the Tang, and most of the Central Plains came under Tang control. If Du Fuwei hadn’t entered Chang'an, Liu Heitan would have occupied Yan and Yun, and with the constraints, I would have had a chance to rise again."

As he spoke, hatred and resentment appeared in Shen Faxing’s eyes. His defeat could be indirectly attributed to Du Fuwei. If Du Fuwei hadn’t attacked Li Zitong, leading to Li Zitong’s defeat, Li Zitong wouldn’t have attacked Wu Prefecture, and the subsequent events wouldn’t have happened.

The scholar glanced at Shen Faxing and said solemnly, "Lord, you still have a chance. Du Fuwei and Fu Gongshu are ostensibly allies but are actually enemies. Du Fuwei entered the court, and the military and political affairs of Jianghuai are controlled by Fu Gongshu, with military affairs in the hands of Wang Xiong. Fu Gongshu has great ambitions and will not miss the opportunity to cause chaos. That will be the time for you to rise again."

Before Shen Faxing could respond, a fast horse galloped over, "Report! Someone is coming from the opposite manor, seemingly a servant of the manor."