Chapter 1457 – Sun Wen’s Mission (5)
“This Sun Wen is simply too troublesome!”
Fan Chen’s anger flared up; the mere thought of Sun Wen’s words in the commander’s tent still irked him. Was that guy out of his mind?
Did Sun Wen really think that the phrase “In battle, we do not harm envoys” would safeguard his life?
In such a tense situation between the two armies, he dared to provoke Nie Liang and the others—did he really have a death wish? Not to mention, Sun Wen’s performance before Nie Liang could only be described as “arrogantly rude.” If Nie Liang got really angry and decided to kill him, Sun Wen would die for nothing.
He had the guts to confront people amidst the enemy troops, placing life and death aside—now that’s some commendable bravery.
A young officer chuckled, “Difficult or not, he’s still a bumbling old man. I can see the faces of you gentlemen aren’t too pleasant. Isn’t Sun Wen just a frail old fellow who can’t lift a finger? Isn’t he worried someone might just stab him and send him to see the King of Hell?”
Wei Ying lowered his gaze and said, “Sun Wen probably knows exactly what he’s doing; he’s already fearless.”
It was the first time Fan Chen encountered someone so blatantly belligerent.
Fan Chen couldn’t help but wonder, “Is this Sun Wen here just to question Liu Xi?”
Wei Ying frowned slightly, saying indifferently, “It’s probably not that simple.”
The group sighed in discussion, but only Nie Liang, sitting in the main seat, remained deep in thought, his brow furrowed with traces of worry.
Even though Nie Liang was usually well-mannered, today he was infuriated by Sun Wen’s provocation.
He was already physically weak, and to not affect the morale of the army, he forced himself to hold it together. He couldn’t stay in front of people for long, hiding his true condition. Now that he was angered, it affected his heart and lungs, and he could only scold Sun Wen, finding any excuse to send him away.
As long as Sun Wen was in Nie’s camp, he couldn’t easily reveal his illness.
“Keep an eye on Sun Wen. If he makes any strange moves, eliminate him!”
Nie Liang’s thin lips parted, a chill radiating from him that sent a shiver down everyone’s spine.
“Understood!”
Sun Wen strolled around Nie’s commander tent before stepping out. He turned back to gaze at the command flag and scoffed silently as he left, his sleeves brushing past.
He chose this critical moment to visit Nie’s camp, never taking his own life too seriously, initially fully intent on the idea of going with no return.
But not anymore. Now, he not only wanted to complete his mission perfectly but also intended to leave Nie’s camp alive.
Regardless of the stir he caused, Sun Wen slept soundly, waking up at dawn to practice swordsmanship, appearing relaxed as if he were at home in Nie’s camp. Those secretly observing him were left in shock—this old fellow truly was “high in skill yet bold of heart!”
Here in Nie’s camp, that’s not home! How could he sleep so soundly and also have the leisure to practice swordplay for his health?
It turned out that Sun Wen wasn’t just practicing swordsmanship; he was also picky about the camp food.
Fully utilizing his age advantage, he acted all high and mighty. Though he wasn’t throwing a tantrum, it sure felt like a hassle.
The soldiers in Nie’s camp thought they were already quite considerate of Sun Wen, yet to their surprise, the old man found two things to complain about.
Complaining here, and complaining there.
Sun Wen refused to eat for two consecutive meals, and when Fan Chen caught wind of it, he came to inquire.
After all, Sun Wen was a guest, and with Lord Nie not intending to kill him, they still needed to treat him well.
So why wouldn’t Sun Wen eat?
Because he detested the military’s barley rice.
Zhong Zhao also had large-scale wheat cultivation, and the food culture here was quite similar to that of the former Dongqing.
Wheat could be ground into flour for pastries, but removing the husks took too much time, leading to an increase in the cost of fine flour.
In the military camp with harsh conditions, soldiers’ rations were just simple barley rice, easy to prepare, store, and carry.
However, that also meant food could be mixed with grit and small stones; biting into one could really ruin your teeth and the eating experience.
As an envoy, Sun Wen’s treatment was certainly better than an ordinary soldier’s, yet it wasn’t refined.
To this, Sun Wen voiced his protests!
The old man’s teeth weren’t great as it was, and if he couldn’t have better food now, when he got older, what would he eat?
After hearing the backstory, Fan Chen: “…”
Is that really the reason Sun Wen wouldn’t eat?
With no other option, Fan Chen had to specially assign a cook to him, letting him make whatever he wanted.
Surprisingly, the camp’s cooking wasn’t just about big pots of rice; the chef’s skill wasn’t outstanding, but given the tough conditions, Sun Wen managed to be somewhat satisfied. For the sake of good food, Sun Wen even sent people to inquire several times and, at times, would drag the chef over to ask questions.
While eating, Sun Wen asked the chef, “Is the cooking in the camp always this level?”
The chef looked troubled and said, “I can only boil some dishes; I can’t compare to the renowned chefs at taverns.”
Sun Wen scoffed, “At least I’m somewhat of an honored guest; with food this crude, wouldn’t that make Lord Guangshan even more wronged?”
The chef didn’t know who “Lord Guangshan” was; it wasn’t until Sun Wen reminded him that he understood.
Once he realized, the chef was left with a bitter smile and anxiety.
Naturally, meals for the lord could never be left to ordinary cooks; if a spy mixed poison into Lord Nie’s food, wouldn’t that be game over? To ensure safety, Nie Liang’s meals were prepared by dedicated people, using ingredients and fire that were entirely separate.
Not just Nie Liang, but also Jiang Pengji and Yang Tao received the same treatment.
Sun Wen couldn’t pry information from Fan Chen and had to be cautious, but dealing with a chef was much simpler.
He didn’t ask any sensitive questions, like how many meals Nie Liang had a day or how much he ate at once; instead, he curiously inquired about Nie Liang’s usual meal standards. Seeing that Nie Liang had solid teeth, he guessed he probably hadn’t eaten gritty barley rice before and likely wouldn’t be able to adapt to it.
Before the chef arrived, he had been warned, so he didn’t dare answer carelessly; instead, he chose his words carefully.
After listening for a while, Sun Wen lost interest.
“This Nie Liang is really not an ordinary cautious person.”
Why did Sun Wen feel this way?
From the chef’s words, he gleaned that Nie Liang’s grains were stored separately.
Sun Wen only needed to know the size and weight of the grain bags and how long it took to consume one bag to calculate how much Nie Liang had per meal. Doing some mental math, he found that Nie Liang indeed ate two bowls per meal, just as the intel indicated.
However—
That didn’t prove Nie Liang was in good health; it only showed he was meticulous, considering even those trivial details.
If Nie Liang was indeed healthy, why, after three or four days in Nie’s camp, had he only agreed to meet Sun Wen once?
During that single meeting, the lighting where Nie Liang sat was still dim.
Separated by several paces, Sun Wen couldn’t see clearly.
Besides that, despite Sun Wen being rude and confronting so many people, Nie Liang clearly got angry but didn’t retort; instead, he found an excuse to dismiss Sun Wen. From these clues, Nie Liang’s reaction contradicted the conclusion of eating two bowls of rice each meal.
The more Nie Liang concealed, the more it proved there was a problem with him.
