Qian Luoyi frowned slightly. He was on ordinary terms with Fu Qian, but since Wang Chong had asked him, he readily agreed and sent someone to invite the prince.
Wang Chong was actually rather surprised. The man was a Turkic prince, after all. Although princes and princesses were a dime a dozen on the Great Grassland, surely they could not just brazenly summon him?
But on second thought, Qian Luoyi's teacher was Zhao Feishan, the Turkic State Preceptor, one of the Five Supreme Masters under heaven and the strongest fighter among the Eighteen Tribes of the Grasslands. Qian Luoyi himself was also the foremost expert of the younger generation and first among the Thirty-Six Divine Generals. Ordering around a young prince who might not even inherit the throne did not seem particularly out of line.
A moment later, a hearty laugh rang out, and a burly man built like a bear strode into the tent. His eyes lit up at the sight of Wang Chong. He sat down right beside him and said warmly, "I've long heard of your great name, Prince of Yan. Now that we've met, my only regret is that it didn't happen sooner. Let me drain a bowl first to show my respect!" He raised a wineskin, poured a large bowl to the brim, and downed it in one gulp.
Wang Chong was about to drink a bowl with him, if only to show this young Turkic prince some courtesy, when Fu Qian continued, "You've come from afar as our guest, Prince of Yan. I would like to present you with five hundred fine horses and a thousand sheep as a gift of friendship between our two houses."
Wang Chong immediately sensed something amiss. Smiling, he held his bowl without drinking. Fu Qian drained his second