My brother entrusted his child to me, and I livestreamed raising the baby, making the Empress cry wi

Wang Meng's fingers tapped unconsciously on his knee, the speed of his fingertips rising and falling slower and slower, until finally stopping at the edge of his kneecap.

He took a deep breath, his chest slowly rising as the damp air filled his lungs, feeling cool and refreshing.

The air, carrying the damp, earthy smell of rain, swirled and churned in my lungs before being squeezed out of my nostrils, condensing into a faint white mist in front of me.

Wang Meng made up his mind to wait a little longer.

He raised his head, his gaze once again piercing through the curtain of rain.

The rain curtain, layer upon layer, rippled in circles when pushed by the wind, like a veil that could never be lifted.

The sky outside the hall was still leaden gray, thick and uniform, like a piece of moldy old cotton wool, tightly covering the ceiling.

Just like yesterday, just like the day before yesterday, just like the day when the rain first started, almost nothing has changed, as if time itself has been nailed to the spot by this rain.

The raindrops were whipped about crookedly by the wind, shattering into millions of tiny droplets on the stone steps.

Then, from the side, the water converged into streams, flowing down the edges and corners of the stone steps, making a gurgling sound.

Long and tiring, each stroke was heavy and suffocating, like the earth gasping for breath.

The stone steps, polished smooth by the rain, gleamed with a deep bluish-gray sheen, and the edges of each step reflected the faint light of the dusty sky.

"Maybe..." Wang Meng stared at the rain, his lips slightly parted, muttering as if in a dream.

"Will this rain... ever stop?"

The eunuch behind him didn't hear clearly and gave him a questioning look.

Wang Meng waved his hand and didn't say anything more, keeping all his thoughts to himself.

Who knows, maybe the clouds will have cleared up and the sun will be out when we wake up tomorrow morning?

This has happened before. The year before last, there was a torrential rain that lasted for two days and one night, but it eventually stopped.

He remembered that rain very clearly.

A hazy look of reminiscence appeared in Wang Meng's eyes, his pupils dilated slightly, as if he were seeing the scene from that time again.

It was the height of summer, and he was still leading troops in the north.

Because the tents were too old, they were immediately soaked by the heavy rain. Rainwater seeped down the stitches on the tent roof, dripping onto the armor and splashing up tiny water droplets.

The North is mostly muddy and sandy, and the area outside the camp was already a muddy mess, with boots sinking up to the ankles.

The muddy torrent roared, pushing the broken logs and debris from upstream, which crashed against the bridge piers with dull thuds.

The rice and wheat seedlings in the fields were all bent over, and large swaths of them lay flat in the water.

But two days later, the sky cleared up.

That morning, a golden ray of light suddenly pierced through the clouds, shining on the damp earth so brightly that people couldn't open their eyes.

And as soon as the sun came out, the water receded, completely and cleanly, as if the torrential rain was nothing more than a bluff.

This rain has only lasted a little longer than usual; it's far from being a dead end, nor is it likely to disturb Lord Lin.

So, let's wait a little longer...

……

Meanwhile, in the Western Regions.

The sky had cleared, and the sunlight, like a giant duster, swept away the gloom of the past few days.

The drizzle that had lasted for several days stopped last night, but a faint mist still lingered in the air, as if covered by a very thin, damp veil.

The moisture clings to the skin, cool but not cold, and carries a hint of the sweet fragrance of softened apricot blossoms when it enters the nasal cavity.

Fine water droplets condensed on the high window, and occasionally a few, unable to bear their weight, slid slowly down the glass, leaving winding streaks of water.

The midday sun squeezed through the gaps in the moisture, filtering into a soft, almost honey-colored light.

Tiny dust particles tumbled within the beam of light, spreading diagonally across the stone brick floor of the hall, leaving behind warm, luminous spots.

The edges of the bright spot are blurred, with a fuzzy halo around it, and you can almost feel a slight warmth just by looking at it.

Only a few drops of water remained on the eaves, the dripping sound only ringing out every now and then, like the last note left by this rain that refused to leave.

The conversation in the council chamber continued.

Ashina leaned back on the throne, his fingers tapping lightly on the red agate. The armrests were already warm from his palms, the coolness of the agate had faded, leaving only a smooth luster.

He looked at the two elders who hadn't uttered a single word since the start of the meeting, narrowed his eyes slightly, and a hint of amusement flashed deep in his pupils.

He remembered that these were the former kings of two major powers in the South China Sea.

The one with a full beard and a tall, robust build is the king of Java, while the one with a lean, fair complexion is the king of Yali. Both of them were appointed as elders by him on the day the South China Sea surrendered.

Just now, Fujiwara no Shujin pointed at them and said something about "we have a secret weapon".

Ashina's gaze swept over the group one by one, his lips curling down in disapproval.

A burly man, a pretty boy, and a short, middle-aged man.

Them? What kind of secret weapon could they possibly be?

The Javanese elder's beard stretched from his ears all the way to his chin; the thick, curly black beard was as coarse and stiff as a horse's mane, with each hair standing upright.

His arms were thick and strong, with bulging muscles that almost burst through his sleeves. Veins coiled like dragons beneath his bronze skin, making him look like someone who could knock someone down with a single punch. He was a good prospect for a fight.

But it can't really be called a secret weapon; at best, it's a durable soldier.

Elder Yali Guoda looked thin and weak, his face as white as if he had applied flour, completely bloodless, with a sickly pallor, and faint blue veins visible under his thin neck.

His long, narrow, phoenix-shaped eyes were always half-closed, and when he occasionally looked up, they cast a sinister light, making him seem treacherous. His chin was so sharp it looked like it could kill someone.

Ashina inwardly cursed—

What kind of secret weapon could this be? Are you suggesting he use his pointed chin as a concealed weapon?!

Then there's Fujiwara no Shūjin, who's so short it looks like he was stepped on by a god when he was born.

With that build, if you angered him, you'd probably have to jump up to hit your knee. His shoulders were narrow too, like they'd been caught in a door.

However, as the former king of the most powerful nation, he still possessed considerable imposing presence, with his small eyes concealing a hidden sharpness and his back ramrod straight.

But getting the grassland tribes to agree to cooperate is of little use.

These three? A secret weapon? They seem completely unrelated.

The sunlight outside the window grew even brighter, and the water in the puddle evaporated, sending up a wisp of faint white steam.

The sound of camel bells drifted from afar, tinkling and broken by the wind.

and many more……

Ashina's gaze suddenly stopped on the tall Javanese elder.

A ray of light fell precisely on the man's shoulder, outlining his figure from beneath his clothes.

This person... was nothing like the typical short and thin people of the South China Sea. His frame, broad shoulders, and thick legs were more like...