Yang Ying had barely returned from the battlefield when she was urgently summoned.
The blood on her armor had yet to dry, and it gave off a pungent, coppery stench.
She found a spot to sit and sharpen her blade. She had barely made a couple of passes when she saw one of her lord's personal guards approaching, so she rose to greet him.
"Greetings, General. His Majesty summons you."
Yang Ying's voice was slightly hoarse. "Is it urgent?"
If it wasn't, she could wash up quickly before appearing before her lord.
The guard replied, "His Majesty didn't say."
Yang Ying carefully mulled over those four words, trying to guess why her lord had summoned her. She hadn't accomplished any great feats lately, but neither had she caused any major trouble. Given her lord's industrious nature—she seemed determined to cram three days into every one—she wouldn't summon someone over an ordinary merit.
She suppressed the faint unease in her heart.
She was afraid her lord had summoned her because something had happened to her father.
Yang Ying returned her saber to its sheath and told the guard, "Please wait a moment." She went back to her tent, grabbed a sweat towel, and roughly wiped the blood off her armor. Her thoughts churned all the way there, all kinds of ideas circling in her head. By the time she came to her senses, she was already outside the tent, waiting to be received.
Her lord's familiar voice came from inside. "Sheng Mei, come in."
"Your subordinate pays her respects, my lord."
Yang Ying clasped her hands and bowed.
As she entered, she saw that only her lord, Gu Ya Tai, Minister Jiang, and Jimò Qiu were inside the tent. The rest of the guards had melted into the shadows. In other