Shen Tang waited, but no other names came.
"Besides Consort Mi and her children, is there anyone else?"
Shen Tang asked herself honestly: she wasn't some wicked fiend even if countless lives had ended by her hand. She believed war was war, and killing in the course of war was only natural. But bullying the weak, who had no power to fight back, after the war was over—that was the behavior of beasts.
The strong should point their blades at those stronger than themselves, not vent their frustrations on the weak to find that pitiful scrap of satisfaction. She and Wu Xian had known each other for many years. They had gone from friendly, to harboring ulterior motives, to fighting to the death. Ultimately, it wasn't because they had clashing values or some deep-seated grudge; it was purely a conflict of interests. No matter how fierce the war between their countries had been, the old and young were not to be harmed. Shen Tang naturally wouldn't refuse his request.
Wu Xian froze for a moment.
He seemed not to have expected this reaction from Shen Tang.
Shen Tang hadn't expected Wu Xian not to have meant anyone else at all. For a moment, the two of them stared at each other as an awkward silence spread through the air. Just as Shen Tang was thinking of changing the subject, Wu Xian tried to explain himself. "The others all have backing."
Consort Mi and her children could only rely on themselves.
If he didn't speak up for them, who else could protect mother and children? Love made heroes timid. Wu Xian knew that pleading for his concubine was hardly heroic, and if the history books spared a few lines for him one day, this would become a laughingstock for posterity.
Still,