Baoyue lay on the floor with her back to the bed, curled up in the fur bedding, silently shedding tears.
Wang Yang lay on the bed, deep in thought, without the slightest urge to sleep. Several matters kept circling through his mind.
First, what was going on with Tian Dadao? Did he really have no intention of coming, or was he holding out for a better price? Or was he deliberately staying put to test my reaction?
The man was no fool. Logically, he should not choose to make an enemy of Wang Yang. But things in this world sometimes defied all reason, so Wang Yang had to prepare himself for the possibility that Tian Dadao might act like an idiot. Next were the two chieftains and the High Shaman. He had already inquired into their personalities and preferences, imagined several possible situations, and devised different strategies to handle them. Those were only broad outlines, however. When the moment came, he would still have to adapt on the fly.
Then came reflecting on his capture.
His capture seemed like an accident, caused by his unfamiliarity with the Barbarian Tribe's style of fighting. Ultimately, though, it came down to insufficient command experience and inadequate planning. Since he knew that "personal guard" had been hastily cobbled together, and knew the barbarian soldiers lacked discipline, why had he not repeated his orders again and again? Why had he not issued an absolute command that any guard who dared leave his side would be executed? Would they still have dared charge ahead without a care then? Wang Yang still did not know that the problem lay in his command of "Yatutucha." He continued his stern, even merciless self-analysis and criticism, reflecting and drawing lessons from his experience:
*If Xiao Shan had been there, this