Finest Servant

Chapter 552 The Inept Actor

The sudden turn of events took everyone from the Turkic tribes by surprise. No one could have anticipated that Soranki, the brave warrior from the Ejina Tribe, would fall off his horse and succumb to a fatal blow from a Great Hua soldier, especially when he had seemingly been in a dominating position. The scene was indescribable, eerie even. Three thousand Turkic tribesmen stood in stunned silence, not a whisper among them.

In contrast, the soldiers of Great Hua were ecstatic. Gao Qiu led the celebration, exclaiming, "General Lin's abilities are unparalleled, truly without equal in the world!"

"Unparalleled! Without equal!" echoed five thousand soldiers, lifting their weapons and torches. In the burning glow, their jubilant shouts pierced the heavens.

‘Ah, this Old Gao knows how to whip up a cult of personality,’ Lin Wanrong chuckled softly. He blew away the residual smoke from the muzzle of his gun and stowed it back into his coat. Then he turned his horse slowly towards where Soranki lay. The Turkic warrior was sprawled on the ground, his limbs stretched out in a "大" shape. A gaping hole was in his forehead, blood oozing out, staining the nearby grass and flowers red. Even in death, Soranki's eyes were open wide; he had passed away without understanding how he had been defeated.

Lin Wanrong returned to his troops and laughed loudly. "The fairest duel in the world has been concluded. Soranki is dead! Will you Turkic people not dismount and surrender now?"

"Dismount and surrender! Dismount and surrender!" The Great Hua soldiers chimed in, their spirits high.

The Turkic tribesmen looked at each other in disbelief. They had never imagined that Soranki, the strongest among them in a form of combat they excelled at, would be killed so covertly. They didn't even know what trickery the cunning Great Hua people had used. This was a tremendous blow to their morale. According to the agreement made before the duel, should Soranki lose and die, the three thousand Turkic warriors would have to lay down their arms and surrender—an unbearable humiliation for their wolfish nature.

"You shameless Great Hua people. You used deceit! I, Zozan, will never submit to you!" From the quiet ranks of the Turkic warriors, a furious voice erupted. The man was strong-built, his expression fierce; he was the cavalry leader who had previously rescued Dulhanza. With Soranki's death, Zozan had now become the highest commander of the three thousand Turkic tribesmen.

Lin Wanrong turned to Gao Qiu to ask the man’s origin before shouting, "Zozan, is it? I hear you're the leader of the Ha'er Helin Tribe. Don't be so petty. This was the fairest duel, acknowledged by Soranki himself. He may have died, but he died far more honorably than you. To deny the result of the duel is not only to disrespect the Ejina Tribe’s brave warrior, but also to blaspheme the God of the Grasslands. And that God will punish you."

Listening on the side, Hu Bugui couldn't help but chuckle. When it came to verbal skills, nobody could outdo General Lin. In just a few sentences, he had not only sowed discord between the Ha'er Helin and Ejina tribes but also invoked the revered God of the Grasslands. Even the defiant Turkic tribesmen wouldn't dare show disrespect to that deity.

As expected, the moment Lin Wanrong finished speaking, a cacophony erupted among the nomads. They hadn't seen how the people of the Great Hua could be deceptive, but Soranki did swear by the god of the plains, and that everyone had heard the promise with their own ears. Breaking such a vow would incur divine retribution. Some devout nomads had already knelt down to pray to the god of the plains.

Ha'er Helin's cavalry leader, Zozan, seeing the situation spiraling out of control, furiously swung his saber and shouted, "Turkic warriors, raise your noble heads high. Never surrender to the inferior people of the Great Hua. In our loyalty to the Khan, I swear—kill them! Charge!"

He led the charge at the front, and thousands of his kinsmen followed closely behind, kicking up a fierce whirlwind on the plains. The initially indecisive Turkic people were immediately roused by this call to arms, exhibiting a wolfish aggression. They mounted their horses with howls, forming a surging torrent that charged straight toward the Great Hua cavalry's front lines.

Looking at the countless speeding black dots on the plains, Lin Wanrong was infuriated. "Damn it, these nomads truly can't be trusted, as unreliable as their goat milk!"

Hu Bugui chuckled, "All the better if they're untrustworthy. When we make our move, we'll be completely justified. Fall back, men, retreat!"

Upon Hu Bugui's command, five thousand Great Hua cavalrymen turned their horses and galloped away. Zozan, seeing this, was overjoyed, "The cowardly people of the Great Hua dare not face us in battle! Warriors, follow me, charge!"

"Charge!" Seeing the retreating Great Hua cavalry, the Turkic warriors felt their blood boil. They'd long forgotten the god of the plains' punishment. Urging their war horses forward, they raised their shining sabers, racing to catch their prey, an imposing force to behold.

After galloping for more than half a mile, the Turkic horses leading the charge were panting heavily, their bodies covered in sweat, trembling with exhaustion. The Turkic knights were confused when their fast-moving horses suddenly faltered, unable to muster any strength in their hooves, and fell forward.

"Ahhh—" The terrified Turkic warriors were thrown off their horses like pebbles, tumbling through the air before crashing down hard onto the ground. The battlefield reverberated with horrifying screams and the hoarse neighs of the warhorses. The cavalrymen who followed could not stop in time, their furious hooves trampling their fallen comrades and horses, causing them to tumble off as well. Countless Turkic horses suddenly seemed to shrink in height mid-gallop, collapsing in an instant. The sky was filled with flying nomadic bodies.

The Great Hua troops, who had seemingly fled, swiftly turned their heads back. Hu Bugui reined in his horse and laughed heartily, "Deceitful Turkic people, the god of the plains has begun to punish you. Brothers, charge!"

"Charge!" The cavalry of Great Hua, turning their heads, charged forward like swift-moving mountains on the plains. Their speed and momentum surpassed even the Turks. In the blink of an eye, they covered the less than a mile distance separating them. The Turks who were still groaning on the ground could only watch helplessly as the Great Hua soldiers' swords fell upon them. In an instant, countless Turks became wandering souls under the blades of Great Hua's warriors. Cries of alarm and screams of agony pierced the quiet of the plains and echoed in the night sky.

Zozan, upon seeing countless clansmen falling off their horses and the usually invincible Turkic steeds foaming at the mouth, finally realized the gravity of the situation. Thinking of how Soranki mysteriously got killed, he urgently shouted, "Something's wrong! They've tampered with the horses. Dismount, quickly dismount!"

But who among the fully-engaged Turkic soldiers could hear him now? One by one, the Turkic steeds fell to the ground. Each horse and each Turk became a target for the Great Hua cavalry's onslaught. Amid the sudden chaos, the situation spiraled completely out of control. Even the best-trained Turks couldn't muster an effective defense or counterattack; they could only watch their kinsmen fall one after another. Never before had such fear and despair enveloped every heart.

Drenched in blood, the Great Hua cavalries seemed like devils descending upon the Turks. Their bodies were stained red, and their murderous aura was chilling. Each swing of their swords was accompanied by a Turkic wail. Severed limbs and spatters of blood covered the grass. The sheer force and cruelty even unnerved the Turks, who were accustomed to slaughter.

Hu Bugui galloped wildly, laughing heartily. Slaughtering Turks, who were masters of horsemanship, and seeing the deep fear and despair in their eyes, was incomparably satisfying. Each time his blade fell, a Turk's head would fly through the air, drawing a crimson arc before landing with a thud, its features twisted in death.

"Roar—roar—" Gao Qiu rode beside Hu Bugui, a long rope in hand that he had fashioned into a loop at one end. With wolfish eyes glowing red, he hurled the rope like a lasso. His skill and strength were such that the loop settled around a Turk's neck each time, never missing its mark. Gao Qiu laughed wickedly as he pulled the rope taut, relishing the sight of strong Turks being bound like helpless lambs, their tongues lolling out and pupils dilating. Releasing his whip, he galloped wildly, dragging the captured Turks along the grassland. Considering how he had once been chased for miles by the Turks, his actions seemed justified.

The sound of the wind, hoofbeats, clashing swords, angry roars, and agonized wails together composed a blood-red war song that resonated across the vast plains.

"Dismount, quickly dismount!" Zozan, the cavalry commander, shouted, his eyes bloodshot. His voice was hoarse and strained, and fewer than six hundred Turkic warriors remained around him. Everywhere he looked, he saw blood, fallen horses, and severed limbs of his kinsmen. The ghastly scene even made the slaughter-hardened Turks tremble. Perhaps they had never thought that the very things they had done to others would one day befall them. Only when death loomed ever so closely did they come to understand the meaning of fear.

The sound of blades gradually ceased, and the plains slowly returned to a tranquil state. Occasionally, faint wails would break the silence, echoing like soul-summoning incantations, pounding relentlessly against the chests of the remaining Turks. Their hearts had never pounded so fiercely before.

The surviving six hundred or so Turkic warriors, those who had the foresight to abandon their horses early on, were the ones fortunate enough to still be alive. They gathered around Zozan, gripping their curved blades tightly and staring in terror at the encroaching soldiers of the Great Hua.

Five thousand Great Hua cavalrymen held their torches high, moving slowly, step by step, silently closing in on the remaining Turkic men. Their faces were cold, not a word was spoken, and even the sound of their horses' hooves seemed softly muted.

Droplets of blood on the Hua soldiers' blade tips silently fell to the grass, coalescing into a barely audible rustle. The plains were so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. The eyes of the Turkic men widened as they watched the formidable Great Hua cavalry approach, their steps as unyielding as mountains. Their pupils dilated, sweat soaked their cheeks, and the silence of impending death weighed heavily on everyone's hearts. The sensation of their fates being controlled by others was more unbearable than being killed a hundred times over.

Under the immense pressure, a robust Turkic warrior finally could bear it no longer. With two loud screams, his eyes bloodshot, he brandished his battle blade and charged out of the crowd. Like a lone wolf, he rushed towards the Great Hua formation.

With a soft "whoosh," the charging Turkic man abruptly stopped. He stood there dumbfounded for a moment, and then his blade clattered to the ground. His bear-like frame collapsed. A feathered arrow, shot from an unknown source, had pierced his throat, not even allowing a single drop of blood to escape. The Turkic man fell, his eyes still wide open in death.

The Great Hua soldiers seemed to pay no attention to this at all. They continued to slowly advance, their faces as calm as if the arrow had nothing to do with them. The sound of their horses' hooves pounded against the chests of the Turkic warriors. The remaining five to six hundred barbarians clenched their blades, trembling hands held to their chests. Gone was the arrogance and cruelty they had displayed when they first invaded Great Hua. Now, all that remained was fear, an endless and all-encompassing fear.

Suddenly, an awkward howl echoed from the Turkic ranks. The shout from their leader Zozan, urgent and trembling, came through: "Wo Lao Gong, you treacherous, sly, and shameless man of Great Hua, I challenge you to a duel. In the name of the valiant warriors of the Ha’er Helín tribe, let the god of the plains bear witness. I wish to duel you."

"A duel?!" Lin Wanrong spat out the grass stem he had been chewing, furious. "The nerve of this guy! Does he think I'm an idiot? I never thought someone with thicker skin than mine would be born in the Turkic lands!"

Gao Qiu tightened the blood-stained rope in his hand and chuckled, "People can be shameless at times, Brother Lin, just let it go. To think that he could grow skin thicker than yours is actually quite impressive."

Old Gao was becoming more and more capable. Hu Bugui suppressed a laugh and cupped his fists, saying, "General, let me be the one to deal with him then."

Lin Wanrong chuckled dryly, "Brother Hu, my guiding principle in life is to never be at a disadvantage. Duel with this turtle in a jar? Can we really do such an unreliable thing?"

The pace of the Great Hua soldiers remained steady, gradually surrounding the Turkic warriors. The piercing cold of the grassland wind touched the hearts of everyone present.

Just as Zozan was about to speak again, he heard the opposing commander, Wo Lao Gong, laugh loudly, "You want a duel? Sure. But first, you must agree to one condition."

"What condition?" Zozan hastily asked.

"The condition is simple," Wo Lao Gong smiled faintly, revealing his chillingly white teeth. "All you have to do is put down your weapons, strip naked, run a lap around both our armies, and shout 'Grandpa Lin of Great Hua' three times. Then I'll send someone to duel with you."

Veins bulged on Zozan's cheeks as he roared in fury, "You dare to insult the invincible Turkic warriors! I'll never forgive you. Warriors, charge with me! Kill the Great Hua people!"

The Turkic men, who had been waiting anxiously and fearfully, could wait no longer in the face of imminent death. They raised their swords and charged toward the Great Hua lines.

Watching their disorganized ranks and the fear lurking in their eyes, Hu Bugui shook his head and said, "This formation is even worse than the most basic foot formations in Great Hua. It turns out that without their horses, the Turkic people are nothing."

Lin Wanrong slapped Hu Bugui on the shoulder and laughed, "There's no point in feeling sentimental. Every strength has its weakness. Just like they excel in horsemanship, they're naturally bad at infantry combat. If the day comes when the Turkic people give up horseback riding for infantry formations, they won't be Turkic anymore."

His words instantly brought laughter to both Hu Bugui and Gao Qiu.

The desperate Turkic men quickened their pace as the distance closed. They waved their swords, running at full speed, gasping for breath. Veins bulged on their foreheads, their bloodshot eyes clearly visible—reminiscent of the wolf packs that once roamed these plains.

"A wolf is still a wolf, even if its teeth have been pulled," Lin Wanrong shook his head and with a cold wave of his hand, bellowed, "Launch the arrows!"

A barrage of lethal crossbow bolts shot out, forming a dense net of arrows in front of the Turkic lines. Countless arrows penetrated their foreheads and chests. One by one, they fell, eyes open in death. The Turkic warriors, deprived of their horses, had lost their former grandeur and had become live targets for the Great Hua cavalry.

After three rounds of arrow showers, more than half of the Turkic forces had been decimated. The ground was soaked with their blood, and their charge grew sparse. Yet, even with half their number gone, the ferocity of the Turkic warriors was fully displayed. They trampled over the bodies of their fallen comrades, surging forward. Unfortunately, what awaited them were the cold, piercing arrows and gleaming swords of the Great Hua soldiers.

"Charge!" Before Lin Wanrong could even give the order, five thousand cavalry burst forth like a whirlwind, their galloping hooves shattering the tranquility of the grasslands. Blood splattered in all directions as the Great Hua cavalry swept through the remaining few hundred Turkic warriors like a storm consuming all in its path. The battlefield left no room for doubt; what unfolded had turned into an outright slaughter. The Turkic men, now deprived of their war horses, appeared as vulnerable as ants before the iron cavalry of Great Hua. All resistance was futile. With each struggle, they met the unyielding edge of a blade or the blunt force of an axe.

In the moments before their deaths, many Turkic warriors suddenly remembered. They couldn't recall when, but they had once been on the other side of such a slaughter. Back then, they were the ones astride the horses, and it was the people of Great Hua lying in pools of blood. Now the tables had turned; could this be a punishment from the god of the grassland? Even in death, they remained perplexed by this question.

Over two thousand Turkic horses hadn't managed to flee much more than ten miles. Most lay on the ground, legs weak, foaming at the mouth, never to rise again. The few that could endure could not escape a similar fate. What should have been a fierce battle ended anticlimactically. All three thousand Turkic horsemen were annihilated; they would never reach Dalanzha.

"Brother Gao, what kind of poison did you use?" Looking at the dead horses scattered across the grasslands, Hu Bugui was astonished and couldn't help but ask Gao Qiu in detail.

Old Gao thought for a moment and slowly shook his head, "I can't remember exactly. It was a mixture of laxatives, poison, aphrodisiacs, and sedatives. I used everything that could be used, all mixed together. Brother Lin was worried that it wouldn't be potent enough, so he even added a few drops of crane's red crown. Trust me, not even gods could endure it."

Adding crane's red crown made it truly potent! Old Gao shivered and couldn't help but stare at Gao Qiu for a few moments.

"What are you looking at me for?" Gao Qiu rolled his eyes, his face filled with resignation. "I've used up all the precious items I brought for this mission. Now I don't even have a speck of medicine left. For the sake of Great Hua, I have given my all."

Hu Bugui laughed heartily, raising his finger in approval. After some playful banter between the two, Gao Qiu suddenly exclaimed, "Isn't that Brother Lin? What is he doing over there?"

Following his gaze, they saw a corpse lying in the distance. It was Zozan, the cavalry leader of the Ha'er Helin tribe. Struck by several arrows, he lay dead, and standing next to him was Lin Wanrong, holding something and seemingly lost in thought.

Hu Bugui hurriedly went over and glanced at what Lin Wanrong was holding. It was a blood-stained piece of silk. Painted on it was the figure of a person, but from that distance, it was hard to see clearly.

"Brother Hu, Brother Gao, take a look at this!" Lin Wanrong smiled as he saw them approaching and handed the silk to Hu Bugui. "I found it on Zozan."

Taking it into his hands, Hu Bugui felt the silk was incredibly soft and exquisitely made. Upon closer examination, he saw that it depicted a woman. Her raven-black hair, gracefully arched brows, and profound blue eyes made for an enchanting picture. She was adorned in a gold-edged foreign skirt that accentuated her graceful figure, making her extraordinarily charming. In her hands, she held a golden curved blade. Her brows were slightly furrowed, and her eyes emitted a cold light, as if she possessed the force to dictate the fates of others.

"Hmm, this looks so familiar," Old Gao muttered to himself before his expression abruptly changed. "This, this is Yueya'er!"

Old Gao was a bit slow on the uptake. Lin Wanrong chuckled and nodded. "It should be. Old Hu, what's your take on this?"

Hu Bugui carefully examined the silk painting and the figure within it, contemplating for a long moment before nodding. "The woman in this painting should undoubtedly be Yujia. I may be a brute, but even I can see that this portrait is exquisitely done. In the Turkic Khanate, strength is everything. Whoever has the luxury of possessing such a splendid portrait must be someone of considerable wealth and standing."

"Wealth and standing?" Lin Wanrong squinted his eyes, pondering for a while before laughing. "Go on, Brother Hu."

Hu Bugui slightly nodded. "One more thing, the silk used for this canvas is golden in hue, top-grade even in our empire, let alone in the Turkic Khanate where commoners couldn't afford it. Adding to that this finely drawn portrait, I boldly speculate that this silk painting likely comes from the Turkic royal court."

Gao Qiu voiced his confusion. "If it's from the Turkic royal court, how did it end up in Zozan's possession? Could Zuo be Yueya'er's old flame?"

Old Gao sure dared to make wild guesses! Lin Wanrong laughed heartily. "Whether he's Yueya'er's old flame, I can't say. But what I am certain of is that Yueya'er definitely comes from the Turkic royal court and holds a prestigious status. Soranki recognized this golden blade and was willing to risk the lives of three thousand of his kinsmen for Yujia's release. Add to that Zozan possessing this exquisite portrait of Yueya'er; it's not a coincidence. It rather illustrates one point—"

"What point?" Hu Bugui urged.

Lin Wanrong flashed a subtle smile. "It means that the Turkic people are going all out to find Yueya'er. Her portrait has undoubtedly been distributed to various tribes; that's why Zozan was willing to fight to the death. And Yujia's true identity will likely far exceed our expectations—perhaps she might even be a princess or something."

Gao Qiu and Hu Bugui exchanged glances, elation welling up within them. If Yueya'er was indeed a Turkic princess, then without a doubt, they would risk their lives to have Brother Lin become her consort.

After speculating for a while and considering Yueya'er's appearance, talent, and poise, they all began to think she must be a princess. Gao Qiu grinned lecherously, "Brother Lin, why not take advantage of tonight's darkness to seal the deal? Better you than some Turk. As long as you're not marrying into the Turkic family, I, Old Gao, will even present you my last bit of personal treasure. She'll have no choice but to lie down, whether she's a princess or a fairy."

"That might not be so good," Lin Wanrong said with a sheepish smile. "Though I'm good at undressing women, I'm not one to take advantage. Using drugs would be too despicable. Why not just—use force?"

Old Gao and Hu Bugui looked at each other, initially stunned, but then they burst into laughter. The three men chatted and joked, thoroughly enjoying themselves.

After cleaning up the battlefield, the army moved overnight. They traveled tens of miles before finding a place to set up camp. Throughout this process, Yujia was exceptionally quiet. She neither yelled nor struggled; her eyes were as calm as still water, leaving everyone clueless about what she was thinking.

When Lin Wanrong entered the tent, it was already well past midnight. Yujia lay on the cold grass, her slender figure curled up in a corner. Dewdrops adorned her eyelashes, making her appear tranquil in her deep sleep. The Turkic girl looked serene and peaceful in her dreams, far removed from her usual mischievous and obstinate demeanor. She was truly adorable.

Lin Wanrong gazed at her for a long time, silently shaking his head. He bent down to gently lift Yujia and place her on the folding bed next to him. His movements were smooth and gentle. But just as he had settled her, her eyes snapped open, flashing coldly as she glared at him.

Lin Wanrong jumped back with a start. "What are you doing? Can you even open your eyes in your sleep?"

"That's the question I should be asking you," Yujia retorted with a snort. "In the dead of night, why did you lift me onto your bed?"

"You're mistaken; this is no longer my bed," Lin Wanrong said with a grin. "You 'contaminated' it last night. Who else would dare sleep on it?"

Yujia's beautiful face flushed slightly. "Contaminated? You're talking nonsense. I wouldn't sleep in your foul nest."

"As you wish," Lin Wanrong stood up, chuckling as he stretched lazily. "I'm going to step out to relieve myself and take a bath. Then I'll practice swordsmanship with Old Gao, and work on my Turkic with Hu Bugui. I won't be back tonight. You sleep first."

"What a shameless bandit!" Yujia gritted her teeth, having built up some resistance to Lin Wanrong's audacity. Seeing him about to step out, she hurriedly said, "Wait, wait a moment!"

Lin Wanrong turned to look at her, and Yujia's face turned even redder. She lowered her head and softly said, "Don't go. I'm scared! If you want to learn Turkic, I can teach you."

Lin Wanrong couldn't help but laugh. "Interesting. Is there something more terrifying in this world than me?" He chuckled again and sat down beside her bed. "What are you afraid of?"

Yujia's beautiful eyes fluttered as she spoke softly, "I'm afraid of wolves."

Lin Wanrong rolled his eyes. "What a letdown! Do I not even measure up to a wolf in your eyes?"

As if reading his thoughts, Yujia giggled, a coquettish expression crossing her face. "Lord Wo Lao Gong, I've heard that you're one of the smartest men in Great Hua?"

Lin Wanrong gave her a playful glance, "If you remove the two words “one of”, I'd happily agree with you."

"Boastful," Yujia said, her smile blooming like a beautiful flower. Lin Wanrong found himself unable to look away.

The bright moonlight streamed through the tent's window, casting a radiant glow on Yujia's face. She gazed dreamily at the clear night sky and murmured, "Since you claim to be the smartest man in Great Hua, can you tell me how many sparkling stars are in this vast sky?"

Lin Wanrong looked at her and grinned, "Counting stars is a rather boring affair. But if you insist on knowing, just consider your strands of hair. The number of stars in this sky is as numerous as your tresses."

"My hair strands?" Yueya'er blinked in surprise, her eyes lighting up. "I've never counted my hair strands. Wo Lao Gong, can you tell me how many I have?"

"It depends on the lines in your palm," Wo Lao Gong said, taking her small hand and gently holding it up to her face. Yueya'er looked puzzled. "Palm lines? How do you read them?"

Bandit Leader, as he was known, softly chuckled, leading her eyes to her hand. "You see, each curved, fine line on your palm represents a strand of your hair. It's also a line in the story of your life. Understanding the lines on your palm is like understanding the number of strands on your head, and every joy and sorrow you've experienced. So, let's start counting: one, two, three…"

Yujia scrutinized her palm and found that, just as the Bandit Leader had said, her white palm was filled with countless intricate lines, each barely discernible yet undeniably real.

"Do these lines really foretell my life?" Looking at Bandit Leader gripping her hand, Yujia felt emotionally flustered, her palm beginning to sweat.

"Have you counted them?" The Turkic girl slightly struggled, pulling her hand away a little, and softly asked, "Can you tell me how many lines are in my palm, and how many ups and downs will I have in my life?"

Lin Wanrong looked at her and laughed, shaking his head. "The number of lines on your palm, the joys and sorrows of your life, perhaps they are as numerous as your whims. Little sister, it's better to remain pure."

"You're the impure one!" Yueya'er shot him an annoyed glance. Although she seemed angry on the surface, there was an indescribable charm that was subtly present.

How exasperating! Lin Wanrong shook his head in resignation, sighing inwardly.

"Bandit Leader, how do you know so much?" Yujia's voice was barely a whisper, her cheeks flushed like a light brush of rouge. Her delicate hand, now trembling slightly, reached out to grip Lin Wanrong's hand. "Why aren't you one of us Turkic people?"

The Turkic girl's body was sinuous, outlining the most alluring curves. Her beautiful cheeks were flushed like the setting sun, her eyes as moist as spring water, and her red lips slightly parted, exuding a soft fragrance. Her tender fingers, slightly damp with perspiration, gripped Lin Wanrong's hand tightly. The sensual feeling was almost too much for any man to bear.

"If I were a Turkic, would you take me as your husband?" The Bandit Leader stared at her enticing figure, swallowing hard and jokingly remarked.

A glint of curiosity flashed in Yujia's eyes. Her cheeks slightly flushed, she lowered her head without uttering a word, her silence speaking volumes.

"You look beautiful!" The Bandit Leader chuckled, gently patting her tender face, his eyes clear as water. "But I must say—Miss Yujia, you're a really bad actor."

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