The Villain Slaps The Protagonist’s Halo - Chapter 68

Chapter 68: The Protagonist Must Die

On this night, Nie Jia quickly fell asleep due to slight intoxication, while Shi Chen remained by the bed, gently soothing his back, fearing that he might have nightmares due to tonight's loss of control.

However, some people spent the night in restlessness.

After the punishment, Sikong Han, covered in wounds, was taken to General Yunhui's residence by Jun Changyue. Although Jun Changyue was the Quiet Prince, he had never left the palace to establish his own residence. Therefore, he had to place Sikong Han in the general's residence, and he himself came and went. At this moment, he couldn't care less about others' speculations.

"He's so ruthless..." Jun Changyue tearfully applied medicine to Sikong Han, looking at the wounds on his back with a mixture of sadness and indignation, his hands trembling uncontrollably.

"He's not Jun Changsheng; he must not be Jun Changsheng." Sikong Han lay on the bed, gritting his teeth and muttering, unsure if he truly doubted it or simply refused to believe that he had fallen like this.

Jun Changyue sobbed, "Of course, he's not. He hasn't been the Jun Changsheng we knew in our childhood for a long time."

"How could his leg possibly recover?" Sikong Han's gaze fiercely focused on a certain spot in the room, and the pain on his back made him involuntarily clench his teeth and furrow his brow.

Jun Changyue couldn't come up with an answer. After Sikong Han was shot, he left Zhuolu City. When he left, Wang Xiong was still disabled. Half a year later, when he returned, miraculously, Wang Xiong had recovered, and his martial skills surpassed everyone, including Sikong Han...

Something was definitely off!

Originally, they didn't believe in supernatural things, but if Sikong Han could be reborn, and Jun Changsheng, the king of Yan, was helping him, could there really be divine assistance?

Jun Changyue's expression became solemn as he asked in a low voice, "Did Wang Xiong target you so deliberately at the palace banquet? Did he find out?"

"Impossible!" Sikong Han pushed himself off the bed, pacing restlessly in the room, "If he knew, it wouldn't be just fifty lashes."

Jun Changyue nodded, "True, given Wang Xiong's temperament, he might have exterminated the Northwest Army."

"A foolish king is a foolish king. Even if his legs are healed, it doesn't mean he's become smart." Sikong Han said with frustration, pacing around the room, "I've been dead for half a year, and Qi Feng let him kill me. But now, the military and defense of Zhuolu City haven't changed at all. He only has the facade of wielding great power. Does he really think he can live carefree in the palace for the rest of his life with Xuanjia by his side?"

"Wang Xiong has no interest in politics. For us, it's a good thing." Jun Changyue smiled as he reached for Sikong Han's hand. Seeing that the bandages on his wrist were soaked in blood, his smile faded.

When Sikong Han was being punished, he found that his tendons were severed, and much of his inner strength was destroyed. He spat out blood in hatred but still held a glimmer of hope in his heart. Jun Changyue was the divine physician secretly sent by Daqi, and for such a minor injury, he must have a solution.

"Can it still be restored?" Sikong Han lowered his head, looking at Jun Changyue with an anxious expression.

Jun Changyue pursed his lips, breathing heavily, "In the future, you might not be able to wield a sword anymore."

Sikong Han's pupils tightened, and he asked with suppressed shock, "Even you can't do anything?"

Jun Changyue, overwhelmed with sadness and self-blame, shook his head, tears streaming down. Sikong Han, after being tortured, had discovered that his tendons were broken and much of his internal strength was gone. He spat out blood, but still held onto a sliver of hope. Jun Changyue was a renowned divine physician from Daqi, and for such a minor injury, he must have a solution.

"Wang Xiong's legs have healed, but your injuries are far worse than his. You will probably recover less." Jun Changyue said in a low voice.

Sikong Han remained stunned for a long time, then suddenly, he forcefully overturned the table in the room, and cups and bowls scattered on the floor.

Jun Changyue hurriedly got up to embrace him. At this moment, Sikong Han could only release his emotions through tears. He was a reborn divine physician, but he could only watch as his lover's tendons were severed, feeling utterly helpless. It was a despairing feeling.

"Wang Xiong's legs can recover, and your injuries are not as severe as his. You will recover. Tomorrow, I will go find him!" After a long time, Jun Changyue said with determination.

Meanwhile, General Yunhui's body was also covered in wounds from the fifty lashes, making for a gruesome sight. He didn't lie down but sat boldly in the hall, drinking. With a furrowed brow, he seemed deep in thought.

Before long, a soldier came to report, "General, the left vanguard's hands are disabled."

"Disabled?" General Yunhui frowned.

The soldier nodded, "I heard it directly from Prince Jing. In the future, he won't even be able to lift a sword. Right now, Prince Jing is taking care of him."

General Yunhui pondered for a moment, sighing, "Rarely does another war god emerge in the Northwest Army capable of contending with the might of Qi. And now, he's disabled. The king is truly foolish."

The soldier hesitated and said, "General, forgive my bluntness. The left vanguard truly respects Sikong Han and wanted to do something for him. But he shouldn't have used your hand. He's a rebel, and fortunately, the king didn't blame you; otherwise, you might not have left the palace alive today. By promoting the left vanguard, he used you. If the king orders severe punishment tonight, with the current sentiment in the army, the Northwest Army might become the left vanguard's. After all, Prince Jing has been supporting him. General, be cautious."

General Yunhui, a straightforward man, only realized this after being reminded by the soldier.

Du Yuxian was not someone anyone dared to speak straightforwardly to. He emerged out of nowhere, possessed exceptional martial arts, served in the military for four or five years without drawing attention, and only revealed his talents half a year ago. A person capable of such patience was no ordinary individual. Yunhui had been too trusting of Du Yuxian.

"Do you think he did it intentionally?" General Yunhui's eyes flashed with cold light.

The soldier stated firmly, "The left vanguard harbors no good intentions. Currently, Yan is in chaos, with the Southern Yi pacified, but our forces are insufficient and may not be able to suppress it for long. The real threat at

the moment is still Qi. General, you must think for yourself."

General Yunhui, with a simple mind, woke up to the truth only after being reminded by the soldier.

At this moment, a guard came in and said, "General, Duke Qingguo is here."

Duke Qingguo? General Yunhui became vigilant. He had never had any dealings with Duke Qingguo. He had been stationed in the northwest with Sikong Han for these past years, and his occasional visits to Zhuolu were only brief encounters with court officials. He couldn't even recall what Duke Qingguo looked like. What was this old man doing here?

After the soldier's reminder, General Yunhui was already on guard. When Duke Qingguo came to express sympathy for his injuries, General Yunhui exchanged perfunctory pleasantries with him. Duke Qingguo seemed genuinely concerned, saying nothing more than expressions of care. After a cup of tea, he took his leave.

Later, when General Yunhui asked the servants, it turned out that Duke Qingguo had also sent people to inquire about Du Yuxian, who was staying in a side courtyard. As for the content of their conversation, that was unknown. Even the Duke of Zhuolu City could see that the heart of the Northwest Army was not in Song Yuwei but in the small Left Vanguard.

"The general shouldn't take the Left Vanguard lightly." The soldier said.

"The foolish king ignores military and political affairs, and as loyal subjects, we cannot follow him in causing trouble, disregarding the people of Yan. Now is the time to use capable individuals, and the Left Vanguard only guards against him." General Yunhui sighed, "The situation is critical. The Left Vanguard is our only concern."

The soldier agreed and fell silent.

General Yunhui walked to the corridor, his body covered in whip marks glaring under the moonlight.

The soldier couldn't help but say, "The Left Vanguard won't speak. Returning with merit, only to be deceived by the Left Vanguard, and the king even used such harsh measures..."

General Yunhui raised his hand to stop him, saying calmly, "It's my fault for not investigating being deceived. The Sikong family are all traitors with unforgivable sins. It's a grace that the king didn't kill me."

The soldier, still with lingering fear, thought that with the king's cruel temperament, he had initially expected the general to die without a doubt. Unexpectedly, the king still had some reason left.

General Yunhui stood in the corridor, gazing at the bright moon, lost in thought. He couldn't help but sigh, feeling sorrowful. Yan was already on the brink of collapse. If Sikong Han hadn't impulsively rebelled, with him around, would the situation be much better?

Unfortunately, there was only one Sikong Han in this world. Once branded a traitor, he had to die. And with his death, everything was gone.

....

Early the next morning, two armed guards entered General Yunhui's mansion with a royal decree from King Xuan. Du Yuxian, the Left Vanguard, was ordered to exhume the bodies of all traitors within a day at Qutou Slope and proceed immediately without error.

When Sikong Han, who was kneeling to receive the decree, heard this, his whole body trembled. Already injured by a kick from Shi Chen during the palace banquet and subsequently whipped, Sikong Han's current body was much weaker than before. Moreover, his fresh wounds were still intensely painful, with even a severed tendon in one hand. How could he possibly excavate forty-nine corpses within a day?

"Without error? The Left Vanguard is covered in wounds. Even if he is to dig graves, it should wait until his body has recovered!" Jun Changyue angrily shouted at the guards.

The guards remained unmoved, one arching his hand and saying, "Calm down, Prince Jing. This is the king's command. We are merely conveying it. If you have any doubts or dissatisfaction, feel free to go to the palace and meet the king."

General Yunhui couldn't say much at this moment, kneeling in silence. Although he didn't hold a grudge against Du Yuxian for deceiving him earlier, he had built up thick defenses in his mind, especially in the face of royal orders, which he didn't want to be involved in.

Sikong Han felt a deep sense of sorrow and humiliation. Seeing General Yunhui's silence, he understood that today would be unavoidable.

Jun Changyue, frustrated, heard Sikong Han weakly say, "I obey the command."

"Left Vanguard, please proceed." The guards pointed the way, not allowing anyone a moment to catch their breath, immediately escorting Sikong Han to Qutou Slope.

Jun Changyue, furious, directly rode into the palace. The guards took Sikong Han to Qutou Slope without any assistance, handing him a shovel and instructing him to dig out all the recently buried corpses within a day.

No one knew the turmoil in Sikong Han's heart at this moment. Having failed in his rebellion and implicated his entire family, he thought he had a winning hand after his rebirth. Yet, he couldn't endure the sight of General Yunhui's family's remains being left unburied, resulting in a beating from the incompetent ruler. The physical pain was minor compared to the anguish of his family's restless souls.

As he dug, Sikong Han unearthed a skull from the dark mud, and in an instant, his eyes turned red. He bit his teeth tightly, all his strength drained in that moment. He knelt down on both knees, hot tears falling on the desolate Qutou Slope.

Crack! A whip struck Sikong Han's lower back, and he felt an intense, burning pain.

"Left Vanguard, we're not trying to make things difficult for you. If you can't finish this task before nightfall, your life will be in danger. It's for your own good, don't delay," a guard said, snapping the whip and adding, "People can't come back to life. We won't report your condition to the king. Mourn in peace."

Sikong Han clenched his teeth and remained silent. Holding the shovel tightly, he let the increasing physical pain numb the sorrow in his eyes, replaced entirely by profound hatred.

"Reigning monarch! One day, you will be buried alongside the Sikong family!" he vowed silently.

On the other side, Prince Jing rode past the palace gates without hindrance. As the Crown Prince, no one dared to stop him. He galloped to the outer gates of Crimson Cloud Palace.

Nie Jia was still asleep, and Prince Jing barged into Crimson Cloud Palace but was stopped by two Xuanjia guards outside the sleeping quarters.

"Step aside!" Prince Jing pushed, but they didn't move, making him so furious he wished he could bite someone.

Except for the king, the Xuanjia guards were dismissive of everyone else. Unaccustomed to Prince Jing's temper, one of the guards drew his sword and warned him with a murderous look, "You're seeking death."

The temperature dropped in Prince Jing's blood as he saw the sharp edge of the blade. He stepped back, composed, and said, "I want to see my elder brother."

"The king is resting. If he wishes to see you, he will summon you. Wait here if you want to see him," the guard sheathed his sword, cold as ice.

Prince Jing didn't want to wait, thinking about Sikong Han enduring punishment at Qutou Slope. Everyone believed it was just physical labor, but Prince Jing understood that Sikong Han was digging up his own family. How painful must that be? Prince Jing felt heartbroken at the thought.

However, the impassive attitude of the guards fueled resentment in Prince Jing's heart during the wait. He was also a prince of the Yan Kingdom, the legitimate son of the royal family. Yet, these Xuanjia guards, especially Xuanjia 21, treated him as if he were insignificant. Even court officials didn't have the audacity!

Perhaps this was an order from his elder brother. Indeed, after ascending to the throne, his elder brother no longer treated him as a brother. It seemed that the days of being cherished and protected were long gone.

Nie Jia, still slightly intoxicated from the previous night, was still asleep at this hour. Prince Jing waited outside for a joss stick's time, watching as the sun rose higher. He was sweating, his face turning red, and beads of sweat covering his forehead. He couldn't forget Sikong Han's punishment on Qutou Slope and couldn't endure waiting any longer. He impatiently wiped away tears, sighed, and left Crimson Cloud Palace.

Qutou Slope was scorching under the sun when Prince Jing rushed back. Sikong Han was biting his teeth, digging up the skeletal remains. His eyes were bloodshot, his face covered in sweat, and the wounds on his body, soaked in blood, gave him a corpse-like appearance.

"Have some water." Prince Jing walked over, his eyes holding a thin layer of tears as he handed a jug of clear water to Sikong Han.

The guards pretended not to see, relaxing in the shade.

Seeing Sikong Han's current weakened state, Prince Jing wanted to cry. This was the guardian deity of the Yan Kingdom. When had he suffered such humiliation?

"He refuses to see me." Prince Jing held Sikong Han's little finger, feeling self-blame for his own powerlessness.

"What difference would it make if he did? Don't let it bother you." Sikong Han raised his head, drank the water as usual, and affectionately patted Prince Jing's head to comfort him, though his voice was subtly indifferent.

No one could help him.

Sikong Han stood on Qutou Slope, gazing at Zhuolu City. There was a disturbing desire for slaughter in his brows.

"It doesn't matter." Sikong Han murmured expressionlessly.

On that day, Sikong Han finally unearthed all forty-nine corpses before nightfall, displaying them under the moonlight on Qutou Slope.

After returning to the general's mansion, he developed a high fever and fell ill. Prince

Jing took care of him, brewing medicine and rebandaging his wounds. Watching him fall into a deep sleep, Prince Jing sighed with melancholy.

After a day of physical labor, Sikong Han's right hand, already severed at the tendons, was now completely useless. It remained uncertain whether, once healed, he could wield a sword or even write with a pen.

With red eyes, Prince Jing couldn't comprehend how things had come to this. After Sikong Han's rebirth, they thought it was destiny. Together, they stabilized the Northwest Army, hoping to regain military power upon returning to Zhuolu within two or three years. But why, after only a day or two back in Zhuolu, was Sikong Han's hand rendered useless?

Prince Jing shed tears for a long time, watching Sikong Han, before leaving the general's mansion.

As soon as he left, Sikong Han turned over, enduring the pain that spread throughout his body. The dark, empty eyes stared at the wall, filled with hatred.

General Yunhui, wrapped in bandages, sat on the rooftop, enjoying the breeze. Seeing Prince Jing leave with tears, he seemed lost in thought, casting a glance toward the side courtyard. It was apparent that Prince Jing was genuinely concerned about the Left Vanguard.

....

In the silent depths of the night in Zhuolu City, the lights were no longer visible. When Jun Changyue found Nie Jia, he was standing on the city wall, the royal flag fluttering in the night breeze. Dressed in a sleek black brocade robe, he stood tall, handsome, and exuded an imposing aura. His eyes sparkled like stars, filled with a subtle and intimidating demeanor. He was no longer the sickly monarch who used to lean on crutches and only knew how to kill.

Jun Changyue gazed from a distance at the figure in the wind, feeling a sudden awe in his heart. "Brother Wang," he walked over and called softly.

Nie Jia turned around, his face expressionless, and his gaze cold and piercing like ice. "Your leg has healed, yet you didn't even send a message to your younger brother," Jun Changyue stood beside Nie Jia, astonished to find that Brother Wang was now several inches taller than him. He was completely transformed.

"I didn't send you a message, and now you know," Nie Jia said calmly.

"Your younger brother served you for five years, but I was of no help to your illness. May I ask which divine doctor treated Brother Wang, and could you introduce him to your younger brother?" Jun Changyue asked tentatively.

"No one, just that Shi Chen from the Southern Yi Palace brought Zhang Fangzi, and it turned out to be quite effective," Nie Jia replied.

"The Southern Yi Palace?" Jun Changyue's eyes lit up. The Southern Yi was always mysterious and elusive. If there was a way to mend bones and veins, it remained uncertain.

Nervously, he sweated on his palms. "Can your younger brother take a look at that prescription?"

"Is your leg broken too?" Nie Jia smiled indifferently.

Anxious yet hopeful, Jun Changyue persevered, "Your younger brother understands medical principles and is naturally curious about such things."

"You dare to be curious about the internal affairs of the palace," Nie Jia's voice was not loud, but the pressure within it was vast as the deep sea.

Jun Changyue had a moment of nervousness, realizing he couldn't hide anymore. Finally, he pleaded straightforwardly, "Brother Wang... the left vanguard's hand is already disabled. Please save him. If this continues, how can he wield a sword and serve you on the battlefield in the future?"

"If it's disabled, then it's disabled. Is the Yan Country devoid of talents? Just a left vanguard dares to covet something of mine," Nie Jia scolded displeasedly.

Jun Changyue chuckled lightly, unsure if it was bitter or mocking. "Is there anyone left in Yan Country? Didn't you nearly wipe them out? The only one who could match Zhao Wushang, the top general of Daqi, and our war god Sikong Han, you killed. If Zhao Wushang leads the troops again, who do you plan to send against him? Song Yuwei? I'm afraid he'll be defeated after just three moves against Zhao Wushang."

In the court of Yan Country, it was indeed clean. After the deaths of Sikong Han and Qi Feng, there were no outstanding generals left. The General Yunhui, who was mediocre, had become the highest military strength. That's why after Sikong Han was reborn, he could quickly take control of the northwest military power and easily ascend to the royal palace.

Because of this, Nie Jia had no interest in doing anything since Sikong Han's rebirth, letting him rally the military in the northwest. There was no need for this effort. Yan Country was a plaything for Jun Changsheng, already precarious. Anything Nie Jia did was futile.

"Zhao Wushang," Nie Jia murmured this name with great interest. Zhao Wushang was not only the top general of Daqi but also a renowned god of war across the five countries. It was said that he could single-handedly capture a city, wielding the famous sword "Lion Song" that intimidated the eight directions. He died in the hands of Sikong Han, making Sikong Han a true war god.

Last night, after investigating Sikong Han's background at the palace banquet, Nie Jia was greatly disappointed. In the world records, Sikong Han was considered the top figure. First, he killed Zhao Wushang, then he surrounded and killed Xuanjia's twenty-one elite warriors. But last night's test proved otherwise.

How about Zhao Wushang?

"If I'm willing, Zhao Wushang's head will be hanging here tomorrow," Nie Jia said, leaning against the city wall with a faint smile.

Jun Changyue knew what he meant, unwillingly saying, "Yes, you have the twenty-one elite warriors of Xuanjia by your side, but even if they are powerful, there are only twenty-one of them. How can they contend with the hundred thousand army of Daqi?"

"Meddlesome," Nie Jia frowned slightly, looking at Jun Changyue with displeasure in his eyes.

Jun Changyue immediately restrained the resentment in his eyes, but whether Sikong Han's hand could recover depended entirely on him. He couldn't help but soften his tone and plead, "Brother Wang, Sikong Han has rebelled, and you've executed him. What's the fault of the Left Vanguard? He was just cleaning up the mess for the Sikong family. Serving under Sikong Han's command, risking his life to collect the corpses for the Sikong family, doesn't this show his loyalty and righteousness? Moreover, he is exceptionally brave. Isn't it a pity to discard such a talented general?"

Nie Jia replied, "Openly defying my orders, such a disobedient person, what's the pity in discarding him?"

Jun Changyue said everything he could, feeling increasingly hopeless. He took two steps back, almost collapsing, and knelt down, lifting his robe, and pleaded, "Brother Wang, please save him."

Jun Changyue, for Sikong Han's sake, cared nothing about his dignity. There were guards on the city wall, but he didn't hesitate to kneel and kowtow in front of everyone.

Nie Jia lowered his eyes, observing Jun Changyue's trembling shoulders. He saw the helplessness in his eyes but remained unmoved.

After kneeling for a long time, Jun Changyue finally heard a clear voice from above.

"First Sikong Han, now Du Yuxian. You've kneeled and begged for mercy for men multiple times. Are you a prince or a whore?" A cold laugh echoed, making Jun Changyue's heart pound, and his face turned crimson.

Nie Jia watched as Jun Changyue angrily raised his head, standing up and glaring at him. Nie Jia felt nothing but disdain.

"I hate you... I hate you!" Jun Changyue never expected his elder brother to insult him like this. With tear-filled eyes, he shouted and turned to run, but Nie Jia quickly caught him by the throat.

"You hate me?" Nie Jia, looking into Jun Changyue's terrified eyes, lifted him to the edge of the city wall. Jun Changyue's feet dangled, and if Nie Jia let go, he would surely fall and shatter to pieces.

"Your life is given by me. If you hate me, return my life." He said lightly, without a hint of joking.

Jun Changyue, choked, couldn't speak and could only struggle desperately, expressing his panic with his eyes.

Nie Jia slowly smiled, a cold smile, and before Jun Changyue suffocated, he threw him to the ground.

Jun Changyue gasped for air, coughing violently, unable to believe what he had just experienced.

"I said, if you dare provoke me again, I'll kill you." Nie Jia looked at Jun Changyue, who was kneeling and coughing, with no emotion.

At this moment, Jun Changyue truly felt the threat of death. Like a frightened rabbit, he looked at his once doting elder brother with fear.

"Run, if you can. I'll spare you from death." Nie Jia beckoned for a guard to bring a bow and arrow, casually took an arrow, and slowly nocked it.

Jun Changyue instantly realized what he intended to do. Although he resisted disbelief, his rationality forced him to stand up and turn to escape.

Nie Jia drew the bowstring taut, aimed at Jun Changyue's back, and suddenly released. The sharp arrow tore through the air, brushing against Jun Changyue's calf, pinning him to the ground. Startled, he looked back, seeing the arrowhead drawing a bloodline on his leg. Terrified, he continued running, ignoring the pain.

Fortunately, this happened on the city wall. Jun Changyue quickly descended, and the arrow struck the corner where he disappeared. The arrow's tail was still trembling. If Jun Changyue had hesitated for even a moment, blood would have splattered on the city wall.

Nie Jia disdainfully snorted, returned the bow and arrow to the guard, and paid no further attention to the fleeing Jun Changyue.

Before long, a fire lit up in the direction of Qutou Slope. Nie Jia remained expressionless, just staring blankly at the flames, absentmindedly touching the location of his heart.

As the night deepened, Nie Jia felt a bit weary. A cloak fell on his shoulders, and someone embraced him from behind, gently kissing his neck.

"Hold me." Nie Jia leaned back, turning to encircle Shi Chen's neck. "Does burning it bring peace?"

Shi Chen lifted him and descended from the city wall, softly saying, "I don't know, but your heart can find peace."

Nie Jia leaned against his shoulder, saying, "My heart is with you. If it finds peace with you, then it is at peace."

Shi Chen smiled and kissed Nie Jia's forehead.

....

Returning triumphantly from the northwest military expedition, the two generals at the palace banquet not only did not receive rewards but were also beaten with a whip until their flesh was torn. The vanguard, in particular, collapsed from overexertion after being punished and then sent to dig graves at Quwei Slope.

Once this news reached the military stationed outside the city, the restless and agitated Northwest Army, numbering in the tens of thousands, could hardly contain themselves. If General Yunhui hadn't ordered them to stay put, it's likely that this angered Northwest Army would have stormed into Zhuolu City. Their frustration wasn't just due to the punishment of General Yunhui and the vanguard but also because the family members of General Sikong suffered unjust humiliation. If they knew that the Crown Prince they revered as their guardian deity had narrowly escaped being shot by the tyrant, General Yunhui probably wouldn't be able to control the situation.

Indeed, faith is a powerful force.

The unsettled morale of the Northwest Army outside the city was immediately reported to Nie Jia by Xuanjia.

As the summer days grew hotter, Nie Jia lay half-dead under a pavilion playing chess with Shi Chen. He kicked off his shoes, revealing jade-like feet swinging leisurely back and forth. To alleviate his discomfort, Shi Chen even had someone bring a basin of ice to fan him.

The messenger reporting was a woman named Xuanjia. Before she could speak, Nie Jia beckoned her into the pavilion under the scorching sun to cool off together.

After hearing the report, Nie Jia showed no reaction. It was too hot, and he just wanted to lie down.

"What did Song Yuwei say?" Shi Chen, seated confidently beside Nie Jia, fanned himself non-stop with a fan, and the tiger's teeth necklace around his neck jingled with his movements.

"Those who incite unrest among the troops shall die," Xuanjia replied.

Shi Chen remarked, "Song Yuwei's brain may not work well, but his eyes see quite clearly."

Nie Jia sneered and indifferently said, "I punished Song Yuwei and the vanguard. The Northwest Army is now stirred up. It seems they no longer see themselves as soldiers of Yan Country but rather as the troops under General Sikong Han. Like Sikong Han, they no longer know who their master is. Stationed outside Zhuolu City, a mere ten thousand soldiers dare to act rebellious. It's likely they have completely forgotten who Jun Changsheng is."

"Ten thousand people, we can wipe them out in two days!" Xuanjia's eyes revealed a bloodthirsty glint.

"So many deaths outside the city will lead to an epidemic," Nie Jia lazily yawned. In this world, killing can indeed solve problems fundamentally, but making mistakes in killing is not acceptable.

Since the Northwest Army outside the city had already been disciplined by General Yunhui, Nie Jia didn't bother with them. In the scorching summer days, he enjoyed a few peaceful days without further disturbances from Jun Changyue.

Jun Changyue, lacking the courage to enter the palace again and occupied with taking care of the injured Sikong Han at General Yunhui's residence, did not bother Nie Jia.

After half a month, Sikong Han's whip wounds were no longer a concern, but the severed tendons couldn't recover. Two fingers had lost sensation and mobility. For a martial artist, being unable to wield a sword meant the loss of internal strength, equivalent to being disabled!

Soon, Sikong Han's temperament turned irritable, and his deep-seated hatred became more difficult to conceal.

Not long after, news arrived from the northwest: Qi Country was in turmoil!

General Yunhui immediately requested permission to withdraw his troops to the northwest in the court.

Due to the absence of the vanguard, the main force of Yan Country was seriously depleted. Now, with the vanguard still unable to participate in battle due to his severe injuries, the situation was dire. If Zhao Wushang led the army to attack, the consequences would be unimaginable!

The courtiers were anxious and indignant, having killed those who needed to be killed. What should they do now?

Watching the group of old men whispering below, Nie Jia casually said, "In that case, this prince will personally lead the expedition to the northwest."

The light and ethereal voice brought a sudden silence to the entire court.

General Yunhui stared at the throne in astonishment, his mouth agape for a long time, unsure of what to say.

"Leave the court. Song Yuwei, get ready to break camp at noon today," Nie Jia stood up with a casual stretch, leaving behind a group of dumbfounded courtiers, leisurely strolling away.

-------

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