A family of loyal martyrs, starting with nine wives to continue the family line.

Jinle put down his teacup and remained silent for a moment.

Wei Zhao didn't urge him, but simply picked up his teacup and took a sip.

A breeze blew through the palace corridors outside the hall, causing the paper windows to bulge inwards.

Sunlight fell in the center of the hall, and the boundary between light and shadow lay right between the two of them.

Jinle suddenly spoke.

"My brother brought 30,000 men to reclaim the map, not to conquer your territory."

His Mandarin wasn't very good, but he spoke slowly, and every word was clear.

"He thought that if he just put a knife to the city wall, you would hand over the goods."

He was wrong.

Jinle paused, pressing his fingers against the edge of the empty teacup.

"He must have understood before he died."

Wei Zhao looked at him, but did not defend the man with the golden crown.

With 30,000 soldiers besieging the pass and arrows already hitting the city walls, it's pointless to say anything about not wanting to conquer the world.

If Yangguan Pass is breached, it won't just be a few defending soldiers who die.

But Jinle wasn't trying to defend his brother.

He was admitting that the Golden Crown people had gone down the wrong path and paid the price for it.

It is harder to admit this to oneself than to kneel down and submit.

"My generals and I have both read the last letter your brother wrote."

Wei Zhao put down his teacup.

"He wants to go home."

"I won't stop you."

Jinle raised his head, his gaze fixed on Wei Zhao's face.

"If I lead my people westward through your Yangguan Pass, will you let me pass?"

As soon as those words were spoken, the translator standing behind turned pale.

The White Wolf tribe is not just ten people, nor is it an ordinary caravan.

They included the elderly and the weak, cattle and sheep, and warriors capable of riding horses and killing.

The entire tribe had to pass through Yangguan Pass; the slightest mistake could turn the trade route into a battlefield.

But Wei Zhao did not hesitate.

"put."

The translator looked up, wondering if he had misheard.

Kinler didn't move. He waited for what was to come.

Wei Zhao continued, "But there is one. That road is Xinwu's trade route. You are passing through it, not occupying it."

"The wells, post stations, and villages along the way are all under the jurisdiction of Xinwu."

"If you need food, salt, or medicine, you can buy them with money. If you don't have silver, you can exchange them for cattle, sheep, or furs."

His tone turned somber as he said this.

"Don't steal it."

Kinler asked, "What if someone refuses to sell?"

"Then let's go to the next place."

What if someone deliberately inflates the price?

"Report this to the local officials along the way."

"Is the government not going to do anything?"

Wei Zhao looked at him.

"Write down the names and hand them over to the capital. I will take care of them for you."

This is not a nice thing to say.

If tens of thousands of White Wolf warriors were to travel west from Yangguan, no one could say for sure what might happen along the way.

Officials will be afraid, common people will avoid them, merchants will take the opportunity to raise prices, and not everyone in the White Wolf tribe will necessarily follow the rules.

A sheep or a bag of grain could lead to a death.

Since Kelu has agreed to lend the money, he can't just open one door and close it, leaving the two sides to fight each other on the road.

What Wei Zhao wanted was a trade route that people could travel on, not a new bloody path.

"If your men steal grain, the Xinwu Army will kill them."

He paused.

"If any of the people of Xinwu take this opportunity to harm you, I will kill them."

Kinler's fingers rested on the rim of the cup.

He stared at Wei Zhao for a long time, as if judging how much truth there was in those words and how much he could actually do.

"Aren't you afraid that if we go over there, we'll block that road?"

"You can give it a try."

Wei Zhao's tone was very flat.

"If Xinwu can kill your brother at Yangguan, he can kill him again in the west."

My legs, which had just started to relax a little, began to feel weak again.

These two men claimed to be discussing their journey home, but their words were laced with bloodshed.

But no one slammed their fist on the table, nor did anyone raise their voice.

Kinler did not get angry.

He nodded instead.

I believe that statement.

Soft words can deceive, but harsh words are hard to say.

If Wei Zhao had only said he was willing to help the White Wolf tribe return home, Jin Le might not have dared to leave.

But when Wei Zhao laid out the rules and the threat of murder together, he felt more at ease.

At least this new emperor did not regard the White Wolf tribe as a group of beggars who could be appeased with a few bags of grain.

"You can follow your rules."

Jinle said, "My people buy grain and water without touching any villages or towns along the way. If anyone tries to rob us, I'll kill them first."

Wei Zhao raised an eyebrow slightly.

"You'll kill first?"

"If the White Wolf tribe makes a mistake, the White Wolf tribe shall clean it up itself."

"no."

Jinle's expression darkened.

Why?

"Because once you enter Yangguan Pass, you're within the territory of Xinwu."

Wei Zhao stared at him and spoke clearly, word by word.

"Those who should be arrested will be arrested by the new military authorities. Those who should be killed will be killed according to the new military laws. You can manage your people, but you cannot arbitrarily behead them within my territory."

Jinle said coldly, "Those are my people."

"Once you enter Xinwu Pass, you are under my rule."

Their eyes met again.

This time, no one avoided it.

Wei Zhao knew very well that this rule could not be waived.

The White Wolf tribe can retain its own leader and its own rules, but if Jinle is allowed to commit suicide in Xinwu territory, the so-called trade route will become the territory of the White Wolf tribe.

If they can kill a clansman who steals grain today, they can kill a new martial arts merchant who disputes them tomorrow.

The opening must not be made.

Jinle sat there with a somber face for a long time before finally reaching for the teapot and pouring himself a cup.

The tea is no longer hot.

He took a sip.

"Can."

Wei Zhao felt a little relieved.

That's when we can really start talking.

Kinler's willingness to accept the new martial law shows that he wants more than just to break free from the sun.

What he wanted was to lead his people to the end of that road alive.

This kind of person is worth talking to.

However, it should not be underestimated.

"When do we depart?" Wei Zhao asked.

"When I get back, I'll take stock of the tribespeople and livestock."

Jinle did the math.

"At least two months."

"Before setting off, send the number of people, cattle, sheep, and carts to Yangguan. Xinwu will prepare supplies in advance and also send troops to escort them."

"escort?"

Jinle's lips twitched slightly.

"Or is it surveillance?"

"Yes, we have them all."

Wei Zhao did not deny it.

"I don't trust you, and you don't trust me. Sending a troop to accompany us will be good for everyone."

The words were too direct, so the translator lowered his head and pretended not to hear.

But Kinler laughed.

This was the first time he smiled since entering the palace. It was brief, and there wasn't much joy in it.

"You're more honest than I thought."

"I just didn't want to leave things unsaid."

"it is good."

Jinle pushed the teacup aside.

"I agree to the road issue."

Wei Zhao did not relax because of this.

Because Kinler did not get up.

He traveled a long way to the capital; it's impossible that he did it just to ask if he could cross Yangguan Pass.

With the map of mountains and rivers in hand and the route confirmed, he must still have other conditions.

Sure enough, Jinler looked at him for a while and then spoke again.

"But I want to be alone."

Wei Zhao's fingers stopped on his knee.

"Who?"

Fang Zhaoru.

Wei Zhao remained silent.

Jinle, fearing he might not remember, added another sentence.

"That old man who draws pictures."

Wei Zhao certainly remembered that name.

Fang Zhaoru played a significant role in enabling the reconstruction of the landscape painting.

The old man looked like he could be blown away by a gust of wind, but once he unfolded the map, he could stare at the mountains and waterways on it for an entire day.

The White Wolf tribe searched for the route for many years, and there were some places that even they themselves couldn't fully recognize.

Fang Zhaoru, however, recognized him.

Wei Zhao originally thought that after the map was returned, the old man could stay in the capital and live a peaceful life.

Jinle raised his hand and tapped the table.

"But he has seen maps of my tribe."

"He memorized the route on that map. He knew exactly where the mountain pass was, where the old well was, and which section of sand had a buried stone marker."

"He looked at the drawing three times when you received it."

Wei Zhao remained silent for longer than before.

The window paper fluttered again in the wind.