Chapter 79: I Want to Kill a Chicken

In the early morning, accompanied by the chirping of birds outside the window, Wei Wuji woke from his drowsiness.

He was just about to stretch when he discovered that someone was still sleeping in his arms.

Huan’er, who had suffered much under Wei Wuji’s attentions, now lay quietly in his embrace like a kitten.

Seeing her sweat-dampened hair, a trace of tenderness stirred in Wei Wuji’s heart.

Last night, he had only cared for his own pleasure and had truly tormented the poor young girl.

Even now, a look of pain lingered on Huan’er’s delicate face; the passion of the previous night had been almost too much for her to bear.

Wei Wuji gently caressed her body, and inevitably, desire began to rise in him once again.

A soft moan escaped Huan’er’s lips as his wandering hands woke her from slumber.

“Master…” Huan’er immediately shrank back like a startled kitten, withdrawing her hands from around his neck.

Although they had been so intimate the previous night, even consummating their relationship, Huan’er’s fear of Wei Wuji had not lessened much.

“Don’t move!” Wei Wuji caught her small hand and said in a low voice.

Obedient as ever, Huan’er let him hold her hand.

Wei Wuji’s hand brushed over her chest, and he was just considering whether to whisper sweet words when an irritating voice sounded at the door.

“Master, you must get up…” Zheng Dali’s voice called from outside.

“I don’t want to get up. I want to rest. Get lost at once,” Wei Wuji replied impatiently.

Every time something good happened, this fellow always had to disrupt it—truly intolerable.

Seeing the worry in Huan’er’s eyes, Wei Wuji’s heart softened, and he quickly reassured her, “Don’t be afraid, little beauty.”

With that, he hugged her tightly, savoring the softness and warmth in his arms—a pleasure beyond compare.

But Zheng Dali was not to be deterred and continued to pester from outside, “Master, the Lord’s decree has arrived. You must get up at once!”

Who cares who’s here, even if it’s the king of heaven himself, I’m not getting up, Wei Wuji thought stubbornly.

“What?… My father’s decree?” Wei Wuji shot up in alarm. The Marquis of Wei was far more formidable than any king of heaven.

“Yes, the envoy is waiting in the main hall right now!” Zheng Dali said, clearly anxious.

Idiot! Wei Wuji cursed inwardly. Couldn’t you have just said so from the start?

“Fine, I hear you,” Wei Wuji replied reluctantly, then added, “Go and keep the visitors occupied. Tell them I’ll be there any moment.”

“Yes, sir.” Only then did Zheng Dali leave.

Inside the room, Wei Wuji sighed, full of reluctance as he left his warm little nest.

Huan’er began to struggle up as well, intending to help him dress.

But as she moved, a stabbing pain seized her, making her gasp.

Wei Wuji, knowing full well the cause, felt a pang of guilt—his own doing.

Leaning down, he kissed Huan’er’s forehead and said gently, “Just lie here and rest.”

Meeting his tender gaze, much of Huan’er’s fear melted away, and she could not help but nod.

Quickly donning his robe, Wei Wuji gritted his teeth and resolutely left the room and his beloved behind.

When he hurried to the main hall, he found several men in black standing solemnly in the center.

Zheng Dali stood straight as a rod to one side, his gaze fixed ahead, contributing to the oppressive atmosphere.

After a final adjustment to his attire, Wei Wuji walked in.

“Gentlemen, you’ve come a long way—thank you for your efforts!” Wei Wuji clasped his fists to the black-clad men. It wasn’t just about courtesy—it was to give the Marquis of Wei face. (Well, perhaps it was a bit about currying favor.)

But the men in black didn’t even blink, accepting his gesture with indifference.

The leader in the center made a slight gesture, and the man beside him presented a delicate casket.

For the first time, the black-clad leader bent down and carefully removed something from the box.

Standing upright, he spoke in a cold, formal tone: “The Lord’s decree.”

Zheng Dali immediately knelt, and though slower to react, Wei Wuji followed suit.

“By the Lord’s command, on the matter of the Ironwood City…”

The black-clad envoy began to recite, his words flowing unceasingly.

Though the ancient phrasing was hard to follow, Wei Wuji could make out the general meaning: the soldiers who had fought in the Battle of Ironwood City were to be rewarded and commended in the Marquis’s proclamation.

But curiously, Wei Wuji hadn’t heard his own name, even as the decree neared its end.

Finally, after much anticipation, his name was mentioned: “Young Master Wuji, unruly in conduct…”

After a litany of words, the envoy concluded, “Merits and faults offset—no reward, no punishment.”

Wei Wuji was stunned. What kind of verdict was this? He’d risked his life, only to have his merits and faults cancel out? He was not at all convinced.

Seeing Wei Wuji standing there, Zheng Dali grew anxious and kept casting meaningful looks at him.

“I accept the decree,” Wei Wuji said in a deep voice. Though dissatisfied, he had no choice. He could not defy his father.

“Young Master, please accept the decree,” the envoy said.

Wei Wuji slowly stood and took the proclamation into his hands.

“Our task is complete. We take our leave,” the black-clad leader intoned, making no effort to ingratiate himself with the son of the Marquis.

As Wei Wuji stayed silent, Zheng Dali hurriedly attempted to detain them, “Sirs, you’ve traveled far—why not stay for lunch before you go?”

“That will not be necessary. The front lines are urgent; we cannot tarry,” the envoy replied, his tone uncompromising.

“If that is so, then safe travels,” Wei Wuji suddenly said, having been silent until now.

Clearly, he had little affection for these men; they were altogether too full of themselves, giving him no respect as the Marquis’s son.

The envoys left without another word. In their line of work, appearances were of no concern.

Swallowing his frustration, Wei Wuji slumped into a chair, grumbling, “Are these people all mad? They all hold their noses in the air, acting so superior.”

Zheng Dali entered, finally able to speak. “They’re from the Shadowwind Division. That’s just how they are.”

“Shadowwind Division?” Wei Wuji asked, puzzled. It sounded like a rather unimpressive organization.

Zheng Dali explained, “The Shadowwind Division is the Lord’s eyes and ears, tasked with gathering intelligence, overseeing the realm, and…” He trailed off.

And assassinating people, no doubt, Wei Wuji finished the sentence in his mind.

In short, the group just now were secret agents. No wonder they were so arrogant.

“Dali, where are those prisoners you captured?” Wei Wuji abruptly changed the subject.

“Reporting, Master—they’re being held in the house behind the Gu residence, under tight guard,” Zheng Dali replied.

“Very good!” Wei Wuji nodded in satisfaction.

“Take them at once to the gate tower of Ironwood City and have them kneel on the ground, so that all the townspeople may see.”

“What do you intend, Master? Shouldn’t they be interrogated first?” Zheng Dali asked in confusion.

“Just take them there. Let the old and young of Ironwood City see clearly the fate of those who oppose Great Wei,” Wei Wuji said coldly.

“Yes.” Zheng Dali understood and went to carry out the order.

“And send a girl to tend to Huan’er.”

…

Before long, Zheng Dali returned, reporting, “Master, everything has been arranged as you ordered.”

“Good!” Wei Wuji nodded in satisfaction, setting aside his bowl and chopsticks.

During Zheng Dali’s absence, he had finished his breakfast.

“Come, let’s go!” Wei Wuji said cheerfully.

“Master, where are we going?” Zheng Dali asked, puzzled. Shouldn’t you prefer to continue keeping your beauty hidden away? he thought to himself. He was well aware of what had transpired last night.

But Wei Wuji grinned wickedly, “I’m off to kill the chicken!”