Quick Wear: The first person to love the host

A month or so later, winter had fully arrived in northern Xinjiang.

A northerly wind swept across the wilderness, whipping up snowflakes that lashed against the tents with a dull thud.

A convoy of carriages broke through the gray horizon and entered the military camp. The banners were askew and the men and horses were exhausted.

The emperor's envoys and imperial physicians, though wrapped in heavy fur coats, were still pale with cold, their lips chapped, and their hair clung to unmelted snowflakes. They were truly weary from their journey and could not hide their exhaustion.

The strategist Qin Wujiu led several generals out to greet them. He wore a gray cotton robe with a simple leather armor over it, and stood tall and straight like a pine tree in the cold wind.

He stepped forward a few steps, bowed calmly, and said in a gentle but distant voice: “I am grateful that you gentlemen have come from afar. The prince originally intended to greet you personally, but unfortunately, he was attacked last time and his injuries have recurred, so it is really inconvenient for him to move. I hope you will understand.”

The leading envoy, Lord Li, forced a smile, but his eyes concealed a barely perceptible disdain. He uttered a few polite official remarks with perfect tact.

The two sides exchanged perfunctory pleasantries outside the gate for a while, but the cold wind was already chilling their necks, and the members of the delegation were getting impatient.

Qin Wujiu stepped aside at the opportune moment and made a clear gesture: "Gentlemen, please. A small feast has been prepared in the tent to welcome you and wash away the dust of your journey."

The group stepped into the somewhat simple but warm tent, thinking they could finally get rid of the cold, rest their feet, and warm up.

But when their gaze fell upon the long food counter, all their anticipation froze instantly, turning into a deathly silence.

What did they see?

On the rough wooden table lay not the delicacies one might have imagined.

Large chunks of mutton were simply grilled, with charred bits faintly visible, emitting a strong, gamey odor. The flatbread was hard and dull in color. A few wild vegetables, their original forms indistinguishable, were haphazardly stewed together in a murky broth.

The only thing that could be considered "refined" was perhaps those few dishes of pickled vegetable stalks whose original color was no longer discernible, and the wine vessels were also rough earthenware bowls.

Compared to the delicacies served at official banquets in the capital, it was worlds apart.

These officials in the capital, even if they weren't top-ranking nobles in the court, were still from families with generations of high-ranking officials. They had never seen such... almost vulgar food before.

Immediately, the faces of the group, led by Lord Li, turned ugly. However, out of consideration for their reputation, they dared not retaliate.

Qin Wujiu took in everyone's expressions, a faint hint of cold mockery flashing across his lips before returning to normal.

He personally picked up the wine pot, walked up to the envoy Lord Li, filled it with wine, and handed it to him.

"Lord Li, gentlemen," he said in a calm tone, even with a touch of just the right amount of helplessness and apology, "the borderlands are harsh and cold, resources are scarce, and the treasury is tight. It is not as prosperous and wealthy as the capital."

These meats and vegetables are the best the army can offer, and this wine… is a special kind of strong liquor from the northern frontier—a bit harsh, but perfect for warding off the cold. We apologize for any shortcomings in our hospitality.”

Out of consideration for his feelings, Lord Li had no choice but to accept the gift with a stiff upper lip. He took a small sip and immediately felt a burning sensation from his throat to his stomach, choking him so much that he almost coughed up tears.

Qin Wujiu, however, had already turned to toast the others.

The members of the delegation had no suspicions. Under the words that "the frontier is bitterly cold" and "this is the best it can be," and seeing the strategist's "sincere" urging them to drink, and since the strong liquor did indeed dispel some of the chill, they reluctantly drank bowl after bowl.

In less than half an hour, the tent was already in disarray.

The strong liquor took full effect, and these pampered officials in the capital could not withstand the potent liquor from the border region. One by one, they became drunk and slumped on their seats, some even snoring loudly.

Qin Wujiu held the wine pot, looked at the mess before him, and slightly curled the corner of his mouth, a hint of triumphant smugness flashing in his eyes.

He was about to turn around when he heard a soft laugh behind him.

"You're quite skilled at using this Yin-Yang pot."

Shen Qianlan had already leaned against the tent flap at some point, still looking as languid as ever, his dark cloak casually draped over his shoulders, a hint of mockery in his eyes as he looked at Qin Wujiu.

Upon hearing this, Qin Wujiu turned to look at him. His expression, slightly relaxed from the success of his scheme, softened under the lamplight.

He ran his fingertips over the cool surface of the pot, his tone relaxed to the point of unconsciousness: "If it weren't for this, I would have had to use much more words today. Thank you."

It was rare for Shen Qianlan to hear him say thank you, and she was slightly taken aback. The warmth of being relied upon in her heart had not yet turned into ripples of being flattered, so she said, "It's good that I was able to help you."

Qin Wujiu looked him over upon hearing this and gave a faint "hmm," saying, "The Xiongnu have been defeated, so there shouldn't be any more wars in the near future. The breastplate is too valuable, so I will return it to you later."

"I've given it to you, so if you don't want it, just throw it away!"

Shen Qianlan was initially quite happy, feeling that she and Qin Wujiu had grown closer over this period of time, but upon hearing his words, she instantly became unhappy.

Qin Wujiu sighed helplessly. How could this person be getting more and more childish? "Aren't you afraid you won't be able to explain this to your family?"

He believed that if such a junior member appeared in his family, he would definitely punish him according to family rules.

Moreover, Qin Wujiu had previously sent people to investigate the Shen family in Jiangnan.

The Shen family's wealth ranks among the top three in Jiangnan. The head of the Shen family, Shen Qian, is over seventy years old and has three sons and one daughter. Shen Qianlan is the only son of the eldest son's family and is the most likely to inherit the position of head of the Shen family in the future.

"What do you want to explain?" Shen Qianlan asked, puzzled. "This protective armor is precious, but nothing is more precious than human life, especially yours. I am willing to do it."

This statement is almost a blatant implication.

When Shen Qianlan heard that Qin Wujiu had almost died from an arrow wound, she was filled with lingering fear. Fortunately, she had given him the Heart-Protecting Armor, otherwise she would probably be crying over Qin Wujiu's grave right now.

The two drew closer, close enough to feel the faint breaths from each other's air and to see the flickering light in each other's eyes.

Outside the tent, the cold wind howled through the northern frontier; inside, the envoy lay drunk, surrounded by the pervasive smell of alcohol.

Against the backdrop of this chaos, their brief eye contact, though silent, seemed to draw out countless fine, intertwined threads, isolating them from all the surrounding noise.

Shen Qianlan's Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and she was about to say something when Qin Wujiu averted his gaze first, leaving only a whispered sentence almost drowned out by the wind: "Whatever."

The tone was calm, yet it was like a feather, gently tickling Shen Qianlan's heart.

He watched Qin Wujiu's retreating figure as he walked out of the tent, raised his hand to touch the air where a trace of the other's presence still lingered, and chuckled softly.

The wind in northern Xinjiang doesn't seem so cold anymore.

At least not at this moment.

Shen Qianlan hummed a little tune as she rode her horse back to the Prince's Mansion.

He described the military camp's hospitality to the Beijing officials to his brother-in-law, Qi Jinyu, and then, under the latter's warning gaze, pulled Su Ziyu away.

Su Ziyu looked puzzled, wondering why he needed to speak to him alone. "Cousin, what is it? Has something happened at home?"