The room fell silent for a moment.
The tribesmen present exchanged silent glances. Right Haye Tuo Shan gave an almost imperceptible nod, and Wuerke spoke:
"When the Han envoy leaves, will he take Young Master Liu with him?"
"Of course. If I don't bring Cheng back, how will you demonstrate your sincerity in submitting? And how will we silence the War Party?"
Dadamu said, "What if you go back and refuse to honor the agreement?"
Wang Yang gave a disdainful smile. "Absolutely impossible. Above us, there is-"
His voice paused. He pointed upward, looked at the tribesmen, and asked meaningfully, "You understand what I mean, don't you?"
The tribesmen nodded.
Wang Yang lowered his finger, then pointed at himself. "And below, there is the honor of my Langya Wang lineage, maintained for a hundred generations-"
He swept his arm out, his sleeve rolling like clouds with the motion, his voice ringing and his expression proud:
"With those two things alone behind me, once I, Wang Yang, give my word, it stands immovable as Mount Tai; once I make a promise, Heaven and Earth may bear witness! Would I break faith with the world over the affairs of one mere tribe?"
An inexplicable tremor ran through the hearts of Tuo Shan and the others. They had long known that the Langya Wang were an eminent, prestigious clan, exceedingly "formidable," but they had never quite understood what made them so formidable. Now, confronted with Wang Yang's bearing, they felt the might of a great aristocratic house strike them full in the face, bringing all those rumors they had once heard, mere wind caught and shadows chased, vividly before their eyes. They had heard that the great clans possessed such profound foundations that they thought little even of the imperial family. Perhaps that