The Demon Lords

Of course, if it were just running around, Lord Zheng could accept it. These days, no matter how long he rides a horse, his thighs don’t ache anymore, but the danger of entering the capital isn’t low.

The last time he went to the capital, he ran into Lord Jingnan’s entire household being slaughtered. And this time?

He’d just gotten home how long ago, and now he had to toss himself into this again?

"Lord Pingye, receive the edict."

Seeing Zheng Fan zoning out, the eunuch proclaiming the imperial edict had to remind him.

Zheng Fan took a deep breath, his face breaking into a happy, excited smile,

"Your subject receives the edict and kowtows in thanks for the sacred grace!"

The eunuch handed the imperial edict to Zheng Fan, then immediately put on a fawning smile and took the initiative to cozy up to him.

Lord Zheng knew how to play the game too.

He hadn’t gone out of the city earlier to receive the edict simply because there was no need. Clearly, these two who brought the edict didn’t think there was anything wrong with Lord Zheng’s way of doing things.

Xiao Yibo immediately arranged the reception, and Lord Zheng pressed down the tangle of thoughts in his heart and personally took up a wine cup to entertain them.

During the banquet, he learned that the young eunuch’s name was Feng Guan, and he was Wei Zhonghe’s godson;

while that young official was a clerk in the Ministry of Rites named Zhang Yuanshan, and even claimed to be his "fan."

Over drinks, Zhang Yuanshan kept pressing Zheng Fan about his past battle achievements; it was obvious he had a deep yearning for the battlefield.

Later, Zhang Yuanshan also mentioned which year he passed the provincial exam, which was basically hinting that he belonged to the Sixth Prince’s faction.

From their mouths, Zheng Fan also learned that Chengjue had become a father and had a son named "Ji Chuanye." Mm, a very meaningful name.

Zheng Fan still hadn’t received a letter from Chengjue yet, and they’d arrived earlier than the letter and told Zheng Fan the news ahead of time.

Luckily these two proclaiming the edict were both young; if they’d been replaced with an elderly eunuch and official, they really might not have been able to handle this kind of long-distance forced march.

Because His Majesty had specified the latest date by which Lord Zheng had to enter the capital in the imperial edict, and the road from Snow Sea Pass to Yanjing was long, Feng Guan and Zhang Yuanshan could only travel in a frenzy on their way here. At the post stations, aside from changing horses, they didn’t dare rest for too long.

First, they were afraid some mishap or delay might occur on the road; second, they had to leave Lord Zheng enough time to make it back to the capital. If Lord Zheng were to be late, the Yan Emperor most likely wouldn’t pursue Lord Zheng’s culpability; the rod would only fall on them. It would mean they proclaimed the edict too late, causing Lord Zheng to miss his departure date.

In the end, Feng Guan reminded Lord Zheng that this time, he had to bring the princess along to the capital.

Once the reception was about done, Zheng Fan had the Blindman stay to continue keeping them company while he himself left the table.

With a bit of wine in him, Zheng Fan took the imperial-gift barbarian blade in hand and walked toward the inner residence.

The back residence was very large; aside from Lord Zheng’s own bedroom and Tiantian’s, there was a sizeable unused area. Within it, one flat section had no flowers or plants, reserved specifically as the Pixiu’s pen.

What surprised Zheng Fan a little was that Siniang was currently feeding the Pixiu jerky.

The Pixiu was eating very happily; when it saw Zheng Fan arrive, it even took the initiative to step out of the enclosure and rub up against him.

The fence around this thing was just for show; no one restricted its freedom. Of course, it wouldn’t run around blindly either, because there were many beings in this Earl’s Mansion that it was afraid of, so it was very well-behaved.

"Why aren’t you resting?"

Zheng Fan knew that lately Siniang had been sleeping a lot, to heal faster.

"I woke up, and then heard about the imperial edict, so I came over to fatten it up a bit."

This trip to the capital, Zheng Fan naturally had to ride this Pixiu; after all, it was a mount bestowed from the palace. If he didn’t ride it back, it wouldn’t look right.

Fortunately, along the way, with some guards accompanying them, there wouldn’t be too much danger, so he wasn’t worried about being too conspicuous.

"My lord, this time I won’t accompany you to the capital."

Because of her injuries, Siniang currently couldn’t bring out her full strength.

And in the Mo Wan’s case, every "pit" had its own "radish"—someone had to go with My lord to the capital, and someone had to stay behind.

"Mm, I know, it’s just a bit of a pity." Zheng Fan looked at Siniang and smiled. "I’d thought, heh, looks like it’ll have to be delayed a bit longer."

"That’s fine too. When My lord comes back, I’ll definitely be fully recovered. I want a baby like Tiantian, one who doesn’t get sick and can be raised free-range."

Tiantian had slept since childhood on top of Shatuo Queshi’s coffin lid, with Mo Wan keeping him company, yet he’d never gotten sick, and could amuse himself on his own without crying or fussing.

A child like that was truly worry-free to raise.

"You will." Zheng Fan stretched lazily and said, "This time I’ll have the Blindman go with me."

"Naturally. The Blindman hasn’t advanced yet."

Siniang and the Blindman were both management types; one of them had to stay behind.

Anyway, the military system reform was already complete; what remained was this year’s livelihood development and commercial operations, which was exactly Siniang’s strong suit.

"Also, My lord should bring Fanli along. A Ming still has to stay home and lie in bed."

"Alright."

After a pause,

Zheng Fan added:

"A few days after I got back, I already spoke with the Sword Saint. Next time I head out, he’ll come with me."

"That’s excellent."

"But even now, I don’t dare be sure how much he’s actually recovered."

Siniang laughed and said, "No matter how bad, could he be worse than that swordsmith from Chu State?"

Zheng Fan nodded at that and said, "You’ve got a point."

The swordsmith had never even drawn his sword, yet he’d always given off a vast, pressing aura. The Sword Saint’s effect would only be greater than the swordsmith’s.

Apparently not liking this faintly oppressive mood of farewell,

the Pixiu snorted loudly,

shook its head,

and forcibly broke the atmosphere.

Lord Zheng came back to himself, looked at the Pixiu, and beckoned to Siniang:

"Come on, just in time—I almost forgot something. Help me hold this guy still."

As he spoke, Lord Zheng raised the barbarian blade,

"Back on the battlefield, I saw Tian Wujing pat his Pixiu on the head, and the Pixiu under his crotch spat out the Kunwu blade right into his hand. Tsk tsk, that posture, that movement, it was seriously dashing, made me green with envy.

Come on, be good, kneel and open your mouth.

Mm,

this barbarian blade seems a bit thick. Open wider,

if you dare close your mouth, I’ll just chop your head off with this knife,

hurry up,

if you can’t swallow things, how can you call yourself a Pixiu? Wider, I’m going to shove it in."

"......" said the Pixiu.

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