Seventy-Five: All Your Wontons Are Foolish [Part One]

That night.

After tonight, will I have to bid farewell to Yin Chan and An Luo?

In the inn, after removing his disguise and wiping his face, Ming Tian reflected on the absurd events of the day. Sitting alone on the bed, he felt a solitary emptiness.

“Oh, darling, don’t be so impatient.” The poorly insulated walls transmitted the amorous voices of unfamiliar men and women from the next room—likely some official indulging in clandestine pleasure.

Normally, if Ming Tian were in a good mood, he would shamelessly press his ear to the wall and eavesdrop. Tonight, however, he lacked the leisure for such antics.

As agreed, tomorrow Yin Chan would leave the group and head alone to Dingyuan County. An Luo would continue to escort Ming Tian and the princess.

Once they reached Sumen Town and met the princess's parents, An Luo would also depart, heading to Dingyuan County to rendezvous with Yin Chan. The two would then travel together to the northern Wei Kingdom.

Unconsciously, Ming Tian realized he had spent a month and a half with Yin Chan in the same group. He had grown fond of this unfortunate soul, forced to live in a body not his own.

Of course, it was not a romantic affection, but rather a sense of adaptation—he had become accustomed to Yin Chan’s presence in the team.

This must be what friendship feels like.

He looked at the sleeve arrow in his hand.

Before checking into the inn, Yin Chan had taken it to the blacksmith for an upgrade. Key parts were reinforced with iron plates to improve durability and precision, and its capacity was increased to fifteen arrows.

With this enhanced sleeve arrow, Ming Tian, combined with his combat skills, could face ten opponents without being at a disadvantage.

On the floor nearby lay a frying pan, also made for him by Yin Chan.

Not to mention the motion sickness medicine and ten bars of soap in his bundle.

Though Yin Chan was not particularly talkative, her contributions to the group were unmatched. Without her, Ming Tian would never have come this far.

After all they’d been through, while it couldn’t yet be called brotherhood, Ming Tian felt a strange trust toward Yin Chan.

The road ahead is vast, and everyone has their own dreams. Yin Chan must pursue her own ambitions, and cannot remain by his side. Though she spoke little, she was, after all, human, with her own thoughts—not a mindless supporting character devoted solely to the protagonist.

Besides, Ming Tian was no protagonist himself, just an ordinary man.

Creak…

The door was gently pushed open, and light steps entered the room. Ming Tian didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.

Of everyone, only his future wife, due to her status, had no habit of knocking before entering.

“Princess, is there something you need?” Ming Tian smiled faintly.

Xiao Xin Zhu, dressed in plain clothes, walked in with a calm grace, her face blooming with a smile like cherry blossoms. She placed a pot of wine and two cups on the table.

“You really are something, Consort. Always calling me ‘Princess’—isn’t that a bit too formal?” She sat down, her smile elegant, and gently tapped the nearby stool.

“What should I call you then?” Ming Tian tactfully took his seat and poured a cup for his future bride.

“Call me Xin Zhu.” As she spoke, Xiao Xin Zhu’s beautiful red eyes fixed intently on Ming Tian.

Under her gaze, Ming Tian’s heart beat a little faster. “Alright, thank you for your… Xin Zhu's kindness.”

He raised his cup, clinked it gently with hers, and drained it in one gulp.

He had to admit, the wine of ancient times was not as unpleasant as he’d imagined.

Due to the low starch content in the rice, the fermentation tended to be sour. After opening the jar, a touch of malt syrup was usually added to balance the acidity. Though it compromised the wine’s quality, the flavor was surprisingly good.

Of course, the wine in aristocratic households was still hard to drink. People of status always sought refinement, believing that adding malt syrup spoiled the prestige of wine. But in this humble inn, such concerns were irrelevant.

After three cups, Xiao Xin Zhu’s pale cheeks were tinged with red—not from poor tolerance, but because her albinism made her particularly susceptible to alcohol and easily flushed.

“Consort, are you troubled because you’re reluctant to part with Yin Chan?”

There was no denying how perceptive Xiao Xin Zhu was. She saw right through his thoughts at a glance, and Ming Tian was quietly impressed.

“What’s this? Is my future wife jealous, thinking I'm pining for another woman?” Ming Tian replied half-jokingly.

Xiao Xin Zhu shook her head, setting down her cup. Three drinks were her limit; any more would risk a reaction.

“No, of course not. You have no romantic feelings for Yin Chan. If I couldn’t see that, what right would I have to marry you?”

Her words were gentle, her pace calm and wise, making her seem perpetually graceful and modest.

“Why are you so certain?” Ming Tian was curious about her magnanimity.

Though polygamy was common in ancient times, Xiao Xin Zhu was a princess. If Ming Tian married her, it would not be a matter of her marrying him, but of his marrying into her family.

Yet she showed no concern about infidelity. Was it true generosity, or genuine wisdom?

She picked up her cup, as if not quite satisfied, but restrained herself, merely playing with it.

“Consort, you’re a person of true feeling. You and Miss Yin Chan have been through so much together, yet not a hint of romantic ambiguity. If there were love between you, you would certainly have tried to prevent her leaving. Instead, you treat her as a friend. I believe Miss Yin Chan has her own goals as well, and you both understand each other’s hearts. Am I correct?”

“Is mutual understanding not the same as romantic affection?”

“Of course not. Romantic love is selfish; friendship is selfless.”

“I never expected my future wife to be so wise.”

Ming Tian chuckled, and reached out to place his hand atop Xiao Xin Zhu’s white, jade-like fingers.

The touch made Xiao Xin Zhu shiver ever so slightly, but her dignified poise did not waver.

“Don’t let my delicate appearance fool you. I’ve commanded ten thousand troops in battle. And…”

She paused, and glanced through the wall toward the rooms of An Luo and Yin Chan. “Miss Yin Chan and An Luo are truly a pair.”

So perceptive.

Ming Tian’s impression of Xiao Xin Zhu rose another notch.

Though their acquaintance had been brief, he was now more certain than ever that she was the right one for him.

“Princess, are you and I a pair then?”

Perhaps it was the wine, or the quiet of the ancient night, but the atmosphere grew warmer.

To Ming Tian, Xiao Xin Zhu was indescribably beautiful—a beauty shrouded in mist.

Her crimson eyes glistened as she gazed at him, as if they could spill a drop of water.

“Of course.” The flush on her cheeks now blurred the line between intoxication and shyness.

Ming Tian and Xiao Xin Zhu drew closer, so near they could hear each other’s slightly quickened breaths…

“Ah! Darling, you’re amazing, faster! Ah…”

“Haha, good! Tonight, old man will send you to heaven!”

Thud… thud... thud… thud… thud thud thud thud thud…

From the next room, the sound of bedposts pounding against the wall grew louder and more frantic.

The crude noise instantly shattered the tender mood that had enveloped the pair.

Awkward!

Finally, with the man’s long shout from next door, Xiao Xin Zhu blushed and quickly turned her face aside, evading Ming Tian’s lips. “Consort, no, we’re not yet married.”

[Beep]!

Ming Tian, so close to success, could only shudder in frustration!

That bastard next door, just you wait—must you be so vigorous? Are you mating like pigs? Do you really think there’s a dragon beneath your waist? Should I cut your dragon balls into seven and scatter them across the world for you to collect?

Clearly, graduation from virginity tonight was not to be.

“Sorry, Xin Zhu.” Ming Tian smiled, maintaining his gentlemanly composure.

“Then, I’ll return to my room and sleep.”

Clearly flustered by the broken mood, Xiao Xin Zhu stood and tidied her clothes, preparing to leave.

“Let me escort you.”

“Ah? Mm, alright, thank you, Consort.” Xiao Xin Zhu nodded, head down and face red.

Ming Tian didn't mind; sooner or later, it would happen. Besides, Xin Zhu was truly in love with him—there was no need to rush. It would come naturally, in time.

However, when Ming Tian opened the door with a creak, intending to escort Xiao Xin Zhu, he found two people standing there—a man and a woman, both in strange attire, their hair styled like brooms, exuding a rural, unconventional aura.

The man still held the door in his hand.

Uh? Wrong room?

Ming Tian was stunned, but the man’s face twisted viciously the moment he saw Ming Tian.

Before Ming Tian could react, a flash of cold steel crossed his vision, and he was shoved aside by Xiao Xin Zhu!

“Consort, watch—mm…”

With a dull thud, blood spurted.

……………………