Finest Servant-Chapter 596

Chapter 596 Who Could Be Smarter Than You?

Even though Lin Wanrong knew Yueya'er couldn't possibly recognize him, he couldn't help but lower his head, holding his breath, not daring to let out a sigh.

The Great Khan nodded lightly, her gaze sweeping over everyone without lingering on any one person. She smiled and waved at her subjects, who, in turn, cheered and leaped for joy, worshiping her with near-mad devotion.

Standing close to Yueya'er, Lin Wanrong could even feel her calm and steady heartbeat, like a tranquil lake deep within the grasslands, without a hint of fluctuation. Though only a short distance apart, it felt like they were worlds away—an indescribable feeling.

Only when the Great Khan's figure gradually disappeared into the distant crowd did Lin Wanrong finally exhale in relief. Gao Qiu shook his head, puzzled. "Strange, did Yueya'er really forget about us? How peculiar!"

"What's so peculiar about that? Isn't it good that she's forgotten?" Lin Wanrong replied with a grin. "Would you rather she led troops to capture us?"

Yujia, along with the young Khan, proceeded slowly. Whenever they encountered a tribe, they would pause for a moment to exchange a few words. Even though the sheep snatching competition had come to a halt, the atmosphere remained fervent. Tursun followed behind them, guarding them dutifully.

It was not until Yujia and the young Khan reascended the elevated platform that the excitement on the grasslands slightly settled down. The focus of the Turks' excited chatter was none other than the amiable Great and young Khans. With public support, Yujia effortlessly dissolved the threat posed by the Right Prince.

Seeing the excited populace who had met the Khans, it was clear what kind of standing Yujia and her brother had in the hearts of the Turks. After several setbacks, Tursun looked rather displeased.

He was silent for a long time before stepping onto the center of the grasslands once more. Placing one hand over his heart, he bellowed, "Great Khan, may we resume the sheep snatching competition?"

His voice was like a great bell, ringing in the ears of every person on the grasslands. The Turks held their breath again, listening for the Khan’s reply.

Hu Bugui chuckled quietly. "Tursun got played by Yujia. Now he’s being good; he won't dare force her into the marriage selection anymore."

"Not necessarily!" Lin Wanrong shook his head solemnly. "People like Tursun are safest when they're ranting. The real danger comes when they fall silent. And I think Yujia is well aware of this."

Behind the golden veil, a silence prevailed. After what seemed like an eternity, just when everyone was growing impatient, the young Khan's crisp, youthful voice suddenly broke through, "Right Prince, please wait a moment."

Wait for what? This confusion was not only on Tursun’s mind but also the collective bewilderment of everyone present.

Below the elevated platform, countless elegantly dressed Turkic young women suddenly appeared. They worked together to carry a massive red carpet forward, which was covered with golden silk. No one knew what was hidden underneath.

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Just as Lin Wanrong was puzzled, the young Turkic women stopped.

"Woo—" A short horn sounded. The center of the golden silk bulged slightly, followed by a "thud" sound. The vibration of a sheepskin drum echoed like spring thunder, striking the hearts of everyone present. In the middle of the grasslands, a gigantic wooden platform slowly rose. At its center was a curved blade, exquisite and luxurious. In the sunlight, it glimmered with dazzling golden radiance.

"It's Yujia's golden blade!" Gao Qiu was taken aback.

Before his words had fully settled, the yellow silk curtain in the center was slowly drawn back. The first thing that appeared was a graceful arm held aloft, with its slender fingers either touching or standing tall, constantly changing. It resembled a proud peacock dancing with its face towards the heavens, its golden nails glittering in the sunlight.

The drumbeat grew rapid, and the yellow silk curtain was swiftly pulled back. Amidst a burst of red and gold, a woman leapt into the air. Her captivating body traced a marvelous "大" character in the air, as if she were Chang'e, the goddess flying to the moon. Her graceful figure was flexible and alluring, twisting and turning in the air, sometimes morphing into a proud peacock, at other times blossoming like a kapok tree, fully displaying the charm and passion of the daughters of the steppe. Countless Turkic young women danced around her, singing loudly; their passionate songs instantly spread across the prairie.

Everyone was stunned, whether they were Turkic or from the Great Hua Empire. Drool dribbled down from Old Gao's mouth.

"To see Yujia dance for the first time in such a setting—God does have a sense of humor," Lin Wanrong said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Amidst the thunderous drumbeats, Yujia suddenly halted her beautiful movements. Her dazzling eyes flashed with cold light. With a slight exertion of force, she lifted the golden blade hung on a wooden frame. The large platform began to rise slowly, and the golden blade was suddenly suspended high above, capturing everyone's attention.

The Turkic people, as if awakening from a dream, erupted in thunderous cheers. They waved their sabers excitedly, their cheeks flushed with emotion. Even the usually silent Right Prince of the Turks could not help but raise his arm in jubilation, roaring continuously; his face cleared of its earlier ferocity.

The Great Khan of the Turks was choosing a suitor through a sheep snatching competition!

The golden blade hanging high in the center of the prairie had already proven everything.

Lin Wanrong sighed deeply, filled with boundless admiration in his heart. "She's truly a clever and wise woman. Today, she has shown her multifaceted skills brilliantly in front of the Turkic people."

In front of the Right Prince, she was firm and disdainful; in front of the masses, she was noble yet gentle. Lin Wanrong believed that no Turk who had witnessed this spectacle would forget her. The so-called Left Prince and Right Prince had all been overshadowed at that moment.

What surprised everyone the most was her unexpected move—hanging the golden blade high up for the sheep snatching competition to choose a suitor.

This move likely took even Tursun, who had already suffered a blow, completely by surprise. Clearly, the Great Khan of the Turks knew her situation well. With a single strong move, softened by a sweet gesture, she not only gained tremendous prestige among her people but also instantly dispelled the Right Prince's resentment.

"The golden blade is out; Yujia is choosing a suitor through the sheep snatching competition!" Old Hu, who had been silent for a while, glanced cautiously at General Lin and lowered his voice.

Old Gao shook his head in disappointment, "What is Yujia thinking? She couldn't resist Tursun's pressure after all! Now she's made it easy for that pretty-faced Turk."

Lin Wanrong patted Old Gao on the shoulder and smiled, "I don't know what Yujia has up her sleeve, but I can assure you, Tursun won't get his way easily. In terms of intelligence, he and Yujia are worlds apart."

Gao Qiu spoke earnestly, "In truth, I've always believed that Yueya'er and Brother Lin are the perfect match. Not just in terms of social standing and intelligence, but even in the way you act and speak—look, look! The way you're glaring at me now is exactly how Yujia glares at you! So, why don't you consider my suggestion? Use your charm to sow the seeds and peacefully unite the grasslands."

‘To hell with that. Do you really think Yueya'er looks at me the same way I look at you? Always harping on about your distasteful ideas.’ Lin Wanrong smiled and shook his head, unable to hold back his amusement.

Hu Bugui sighed deeply, "Although Old Gao's methods are somewhat unscrupulous, General, forgive my frankness, I haven't seen you smile like this in days."

"Really?" Lin Wanrong widened his eyes, nodding, "Well, perhaps I've laughed too much lately and strained my face. A couple of days of rest should do the trick."

Gao Qiu muttered under his breath, "Even if the Great Wall falls down, your face won't strain."

Over on the other side, Tursun was overjoyed when he saw Yujia draw a golden blade, signaling her intention to join the groom-choosing festival. He quickly knelt on one knee and drew a silver blade from his robe, holding it high above his head before the Great Khan.

In Turkic tradition, presenting the silver blade meant that the Right Prince was participating in the competition solely for the Golden Khan, Yujia. Any other women interested in the Right Prince should henceforth stay away. It was a sign of Tursun's loyalty.

Yujia smiled gently and nodded, accepting the Right Prince as one of her suitors. Despite his high status, he was still inferior in the presence of the Great Khan. The silver blade was then placed on a wooden table nearby.

Inspired by Tursun's action, warriors from several other major tribes rushed forward to express their admiration for the Great Khan, each vowing to become her suitor. She accepted them one by one.

The Right Prince, confident in his own abilities, merely observed the proceedings with a smile, choosing to remain silent.

Gao Qiu's eyes widened, "What a beautiful and virtuous lady the Great Khan is, an ideal match for a gentleman! Old Hu, should we also go and express our feelings?"

"That won't be necessary," Hu Bugui glanced at Lin Wanrong and chuckled, "To express such eagerness would signify that, aside from the Great Khan, no other tribes could marry into ours. Besides, we still have to compete with them. Moreover, the Great Khan may not necessarily prefer the warriors from these major tribes. The winner might very well come from a smaller tribe."

Lin Wanrong spoke solemnly, "Brother Hu, Brother Gao, listen to me carefully. Our goal is to enter the city, not to win the competition! The higher our ranking, the more people will watch us, increasing the risk of exposure. Winning three rounds to qualify for city entry is enough; we don't need to win any more than that."

"Understood!" Both men replied in unison.

As they spoke, Tursun had already retreated to change his attire. The Turkic tradition of masked sheep snatching competition aimed for fairness; once the Right Prince put on his face mask, he became indistinguishable from commoners, and nobody knew where he was hiding.

This time, Lin Wanrong grew anxious. With masks scattered all over the ground, who could tell where Tursun was? When would he make his appearance? Only on the sheep snatching battlefield could he be recognized. But by then, it might be too late. This was both a melee and an elimination match; losing once would mean all previous efforts were in vain.

After some deep contemplation, Lin Wanrong clenched his teeth, "Brother Hu, go draw a lot. We're fighting another round, immediately, right now!"

Old Hu was taken aback, "General, why not wait for Tursun to take the field? That way, we can avoid him."

Lin Wanrong shook his head solemnly, pointing to the thousands of masked warriors on the field, "Brother Hu, I can say with certainty that every single person here is thinking the same as you—waiting for Tursun to make his move so they can dodge him. What do you think will happen then?"

Hu Bugui pondered for a moment and quickly understood. If everyone was avoiding Tursun, it would be like hundreds of tribes trying to cross a single wooden bridge. There would be no stopping until people were trampled and blood was spilled. That would be the most dangerous scenario.

"Tursun is no fool. He's been fighting since he was thirteen and has seen countless battles. At a time when everyone is eager to participate in the sheep snatching to win the Great Khan's favor, I believe he won't rashly step onto the battlefield. He will at least watch one match. So, taking the initiative actually minimizes our risk. Brother Hu, go quickly!"

In a crucial moment, there was no room for hesitation. Old Hu dashed off and returned shortly with a lot. It was no longer the 'Duck Group.' The name sounded pleasant—Elisha.

"Elisha? Isn't that Rose?" Lin Wanrong chuckled, recalling what Yueya'er had said the other night. It was the season for roses on the steppe. For the Great Khan to gather thousands of roses to find happiness should be an effortless task.

Standing at the starting line, he adjusted his mask and glanced over to see a bunch of magnificent roses beside the Great Khan. The sight was eye-catching and beautiful.

He paused when he realized who was presenting the bouquet of roses next to Yueya'er—it was none other than Tursun. He couldn't help but burst into silent laughter. Even with a mask, he had recognized Tursun instantly. ‘So that's where he disappeared to, offering flowers to Yueya'er. Now, I can breathe easy.’

"The sheep snatching competition continues. Young Khan, cut the rope," the voice of the Turkic priest resonated from afar.

Salmu stood up, ready to ascend the podium, but Yueya'er pushed aside Tursun's bouquet and whispered something in his ear. The Young Khan stopped in his tracks, nodded, and picked up a golden bow. Despite its small size, it enveloped him almost entirely.

Following his sister's instruction, with the golden arrow on the string, Salmu—though young, but exceptionally strong—pulled the string taut. A sharp whistle cut through the air as the arrow flew, hitting the rope dead center. The dripping wet sheep fell to the ground.

For a moment, the crowd of nomads was stunned. Then a cheer rose so thunderous it seemed as though the heavens would turn upside down.

"Yueya'er, oh Yueya'er, who could be more clever than you?"

Before he could even marvel, his steed darted out like an arrow!

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