The Xianbei felt tents had massive timbers for pillars, with ox-sinew ropes stretched from their four corners to stakes, enabling them to withstand the fierce winds of the plateau. The central command tent of Murong Chui, King of Wu, was especially sturdy, tall, and spacious, its inner walls adorned with exquisite, magnificent patterns of birds, beasts, and clouds. Now everyone inside held their breath and fell silent, their eyes fixed on Chen Caozhi, waiting to hear how he would answer.
Ran Sheng and Shen Chiqian, kneeling behind Chen Caozhi, also felt their hearts quicken. They could sense the armored soldiers concealed behind the curtains itching to move. Both involuntarily wanted to reach for the saber hilts at their waists, but forced themselves to resist-
Chen Caozhi's voice came, neither hurried nor slow. "I came in all sincerity, faithful to the trust Lord Anshi placed in me. Yet after meeting you today, I feel that the spirited, generous youth who shot a white wolf and sent his affection across ten thousand miles no longer exists. There is only a suspicious, narrow-minded soldier, without courtesy or charm-"
Everyone paled.
Murong Chui stared wide-eyed at Chen Caozhi, who remained perfectly composed. Chen Caozhi was not deliberately trying to anger Murong Chui; he understood his character well. Murong Chui was broad-minded, possessed grand strategic vision, excelled at forbearance, and never let joy or anger show on his face. Provoking him now with the feigned wildness of a distinguished Jiangzuo scholar was a strategy tailored to that character. Had the man before him been the narrow-minded, greedy, and talent-envying Grand Tutor Murong Ping, he would naturally have spoken differently.
After staring at him for a moment, Murong Chui assumed a solemn expression. "I was discourteous. What gift has Lord Anshi entrusted Envoy Chen to deliver?