The Demon Lords

Chapter 1053: Chapter 253: Poetry and Wine, Returning to the Inner Court

The carriage stopped under the Drunken Wind Pavilion.

The Regent walked in front, the sword maker followed behind him, and Zheng Fan and Mr. Chen were at the end.

Lord Zheng now felt a sense of absurdity filling his mind,

He had just left yesterday in a hurry, got an uncomfortable night’s sleep, and today, he had to go back again?

Lord Zheng could choose to say "no" now,

But to say "no" to that man in white was the greatest offense against him;

He was the Regent, he was the "Emperor," and as a ruler, his words held immense authority and must be obeyed.

Moreover, from Su Mingzhe’s perspective, he had no reason to say "no" at this time.

Because he had originally been sent by his master to deliver gifts and attend the princess’s wedding banquet.

If he refused, his character would inevitably collapse, causing even more extreme reactions.

From the corner of his eye, Lord Zheng glanced at Mr. Chen standing beside him,

Mr. Chen owed him a favor,

Lord Zheng believed that if he asked Mr. Chen to draw his sword against the Regent now, Mr. Chen would not hesitate; he would draw his sword directly.

Because the Regent was not a Qian person, he was a Chu person.

Even though, at this time, Qian and Chu were united against Yan,

if you really calculated it that way, the boundaries would be limitless.

Others might just talk without commitment, but Mr. Chen was a man of his word all his life.

So, he would draw his sword.

However, the problem was, the sword maker was right next to the Regent.

Lord Zheng had witnessed the terrifying power of the Sword Saint before, and even if the sword maker couldn’t reach the Sword Saint’s level at Snow Sea Pass, he was still no match for Mr. Chen.

Even if Mr. Chen teamed up with him, it would be the same.

Although there were rumors in the streets that the sword maker was actually a fraud, that although he could make swords, he was not skilled in sword cultivation and was only inflated to the position of one of the four great swordmasters, simply because each of the four states needed one, so they had to include him.

Lord Zheng had specifically asked Yu Huaping about this, but Yu Huaping’s answer was simple: "I don’t know."

Then,

Yu Huaping pointed to the soup in front of him,

and said:

"Can a cook who makes good dishes not know how to taste them?"

Moreover,

whether the sword maker was a fraud, and what the probability of him being a fraud was — ten percent? Twenty percent? Thirty percent? Or seventy to ninety percent?

To Lord Zheng, none of these mattered.

Because what Lord Zheng needed to face was a binary choice.

He could fight,

or he could not fight;

it corresponded directly to life or death; there couldn’t be a scenario where the sword maker had a seventy percent chance of knowing how to fight and thus, he had a seventy percent chance of dying.

On the other hand,

If Lord Zheng were a truly loyal subject of Yan, a true second Tian Wujing, who would stop at nothing for Yan’s future, then perhaps he would have gone ahead and fought alongside Mr. Chen without hesitation.

With the Regent dead, there’s a great chance that Chu State, just recently unified after the prince’s rebellion, would fall into disarray again. The temptation was truly great.

But Lord Zheng was a person who placed his life above all else; he could lean emotionally towards Yan, but he would never stake his life on it.

His face calm,

yet his mind was buzzing with endless thoughts,

He kept his pace steady and followed,

The carriage was not very large, but it was spacious, and the Regent and the sword maker had already boarded.

Only then did Zheng Fan feel a sudden realization, glanced at Mr. Chen by his side, then climbed into the carriage and sat down.

The Regent sat in the middle, the sword maker on one side, and Zheng Fan and Mr. Chen shared a side.

The driver was an elderly man with white hair and a beard; Zheng Fan had noticed him too when boarding; he had the typical image of a sweeping monk.

Where would there be a real carriage driver, with immaculate fingernails and crisp, new-looking pants and socks?

Moreover, at the periphery of this carriage, there were certainly many genuine experts escorting.

Lord Zheng sat there, resigned to his fate;

Sigh,

He wondered how A Ming would react upon discovering his disappearance again.

Perhaps due to the poem by Yao Zizhan, the Regent was in a good mood and couldn’t help but ask Zheng Fan:

"Mr. Su, you have been with Master Yao for a few years. Do you have any pieces that can help us relieve the weariness of the journey?"

Hmm?

Lord Zheng realized that this Regent’s public image was ruthless and decisive, sweeping away his brothers like a storm, but inside, he had a deep literary inclination.

"Inexperienced as I am, I’m embarrassed to present my work for the elders’ ears."

The Regent waved his hand, saying, "No matter, recite it and let us appreciate it. Just like Yan people who favor strong flavors, Qian people who like sweetness, we Chu people enjoy freshness. I’ve always felt that there’s no one dish everyone likes, but as long as it’s a dish, there will be a group that appreciates its taste."

"Then, I shall embarrass myself."

The Regent sat upright to show respect.

The sword maker twirled his long hair with his finger, his gaze fixed on Zheng Fan, clearly waiting too.

Mr. Chen didn’t understand poetry or song, so he kept a straight face, sitting there.

Actually, Mr. Chen was very anxious inside;

because he knew Zheng Fan’s identity, he wasn’t the sickly scholar he had escorted all the way from Qian State, but a general.

Mr. Chen hadn’t read "Zheng Zi Art of War"; he merely thought it natural for a general to write a military book, as normal as a swordsman wielding a sword.