"Even if that's the case."
That was how Princess Qian Du of the Peacock Dynasty answered when Song Lang asked whether she intended to provoke a conflict between the two countries and declare war on the Xifeng Empire.
She had been frank and decisive, yet carried a hint of absentminded indifference.
What kind of feeling was that?
It was like a lovestruck youth, shy and nervous as he handed the girl he adored a love letter he had carefully prepared for ages, only for her to reply, "Just put it over there."
What you regarded as important as life itself was, in another person's eyes, no more than trivial household matters—sesame seeds and garlic.
Was this the confidence of a royal family that had ruled for ten thousand years?
Song Lang was a direct descendant of the Song family. Unless absolutely necessary, he would never dare casually provoke a conflict between nations. Much less a national war against a super-empire like the Peacock Dynasty. Only after the Song family's core figures discussed it together and nodded their approval could such a war possibly be waged.
That was what he had thought. He had assumed that, as a princess of the Peacock Dynasty, she would share the same mindset as him: while enjoying the authority and power, she would also bear the corresponding responsibilities.
How could she so lightly push countless common people toward the flames of war?
Yet Princess Peacock clearly did not care about any of that. Status, position, duties, responsibilities—she looked as though none of them mattered to her.
"If you want to fight, then I'll fight."
Song Lang understood. That was what she meant.
Arrogant and overbearing, looking down on everyone.
If anyone else had dared speak to him like that, Song Lang would have broken their