Chapter 130 -
[System 009: Proposal: Instead of uselessly feeling sorry for him, use your vast villainess intellect to help him trap the rat. Host, suggest a trap. Traitors love confidential information and easy targets.]
Yueqing’s eyes flicked down at the back of Wenzhe’s head as he rested against her waist. The heavy weight of his quiet grief pressed against her, and for once, her sarcastic mind felt completely still.
[Nine is actually right for once,] Yueqing thought, her inner persona rolling up its sleeves with a dangerous glint in its eyes. [If someone in this camp thinks they can mess with my block of wood and get away with it, they have another thing coming. It’s time for a little psychological warfare.]
She reached down, her slender fingers sliding gently into Wenzhe’s dark, untamed hair, tugging just enough to make him tilt his head up and look into her eyes.
"If you want to catch a rat," Yueqing said, her voice dropping into a smooth, deadly whisper, "you don’t go around digging through old shift logs. You lay out a piece of sweet, irresistible cheese."
Wenzhe blinked, his dark eyes focusing on her face. "What are you suggesting?"
Yueqing leaned down closer, her sharp eyes sparkling with brilliant, cold strategy. "Right now, the traitor thinks they succeeded. They leaked your route, ambushed your vanguard, and think you’re blinded by anger. So, give them exactly what they want to hear...a fake, desperate second attempt."
She paused, tapping a slender finger against his shoulder. "Tomorrow morning, put on a huge performance. Spread a rumor through the top commanders that your arm wound is infected and you’re bedridden with a high fever. Then, have Vice-General Chen visibly send out a secret, ’urgent’ messenger carry an encrypted route map claiming you’re secretly moving the heavy supply train to the West Pass at midnight because you’re too weak to defend the main camp."
Wenzhe’s eyes narrowed, a sharp spark of interest igniting in his gaze as he listened intently.
"The traitor won’t be able to resist," Yueqing continued, a dark, brilliant smirk curving her lips. "They’ll rush to send that fresh route map to their border contact before midnight. But instead of sending a real messenger out, you replace the scroll with a light fluorescent powder on the wooden tube case, something invisible to the naked eye, but leaves a clear residue on whoever handles it. Then, at dusk, call an emergency meeting for all commanders and order everyone to wash their hands in a special herbal basin."
Wenzhe’s breath hitched slightly as the full genius of her plan clicked into place. "The herb solution will react with the powder, turning their hands bright blue in front of everyone."
"Exactly," Yueqing purred, tilting her chin up with supreme, arrogant confidence. "Simple, dramatic, and leaves zero room for excuses. They catch themselves red-handed—or rather, blue-handed."
Wenzhe stared up at her, utterly spellbound. The heavy cloud of grief hanging over him completely shattered, replaced by a deep, fierce look of absolute admiration.
Slowly, a low, dangerous smile spread across his lips. He reached up, wrapping his strong arm tighter around her waist, pulling her down until her breath brushed his lips.
"Su Yueqing," Wenzhe murmured, his voice rich and full of pride. "You truly are a terrifying woman."
[System 009: Alert:
Villain Points Earned: +50 (For designing a ruthless, cold-blooded psychological trap).
Favorability Points from General Wenzhe: Off the charts.
Notice: Target is currently looking at you like you hung the moon and stars.]
[Hmph!] Yueqing’s inner persona placed its hands on its hips, scoffing proudly. [Of course I am!]
"I will do exactly as you say," Wenzhe said, his deep voice smooth and firm as his dark eyes locked onto hers. "And if this plan works and we catch the rat... I will give you whatever you want."
The moment those words left his mouth, Yueqing’s eyes lit up like bright stars.
"Whatever I want?!" she asked out loud, her voice rising with sudden, uncontrollable excitement. "Anything at all?!"
"Anything," Wenzhe promised, his lips curving into a soft, fond smile.
[YESSSS!] Yueqing’s inner voice screamed in absolute victory, her internal persona doing chaotic backflips across a golden stage. [A whole chest of capital gold! No, wait! A official pardon so I can live as a lazy rich noblewoman forever! Or maybe a giant carriage filled with sweet pastries and ten private chefs! Nine, start writing down my wish list right now!]
Wenzhe sat right beneath her, hearing every single frantic, greedy thought echoing loudly in his mind. He looked at her excited face, the tiny flush on her cheeks, and the absolute chaos of her silly, childish desires. He couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, shaking his head at just how ridiculously cute she was when she thought she was being a ruthless villainess.
"You really are a handful," Wenzhe murmured softly.
Before Yueqing could finish listing twenty different kinds of Capital cakes in her head, Wenzhe suddenly slid his good right arm under her knees and wrapped his left arm tightly around her back, scooping her right off the wooden map table in a sudden, effortless bridal carry.
"AH!" Yueqing gasped, her hands instinctively flying up to clutch his broad shoulders for balance.
She looked down at him in total panic, her cheeks instantly flushing a deep, fiery red. "What are you doing?! Your arm is literally injured! Put me down right now, you crazy block of wood!"
"My arm is fine, my wife fixed it," Wenzhe replied calmly, stepping toward the tent exit with steady, effortless strides. "And I don’t want you walking through the freezing snow. I’m taking you back to our tent."
"I have boots on!" Yueqing protested, squirming slightly in his grip while trying desperately to keep her unbothered, dignified expression intact. "I can walk perfectly fine! Drop me down!"
[Put me down, put me down, put me down!] her mind screamed in complete, unhinged embarrassment. [Nine, my face is on fire! Why is he carrying me like this in front of the whole military camp?!]
[System 009: Scanning: Host’s heart rate has breached 140 BPM. Heart failure imminent due to extreme shyness. Requesting Host to stop wiggling before General Wenzhe’s stitches pop.]
[SHUT UP, NINE!]
Wenzhe adjusted his hold on her, pulling her just a little closer against his warm chest as he pushed aside the heavy tent flap with his shoulder. The cold night wind rushed past them, but Yueqing barely felt it, wrapped securely in his arms as he carried her smoothly across the snow-covered camp toward their warm quarters.