Chapter 348 Peace Treaty

Chapter 348: The Peace Treaty

Hutuke seriously suspected his ears were playing tricks on him after days of relentless toil—how else could he have heard such an outrageous statement?

He prided himself on having weathered every storm imaginable: patricide and fratricide, tribal infighting, blood-soaked battlefields...

But this particular "storm" was genuinely a first for him, leaving him so stunned he momentarily forgot to breathe.

The golden tent was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, broken only by his heavy breathing and the uneasy sputter of the tallow candles.

He stared hard at Wuliji, who remained as steadfast as a rock below, trying to find even a hint of a joke on that stone-faced expression.

There was none. Not a trace.

Not ready to give up, he repeated it almost word for word, "Eldest Young Master Lin, and—a marriage alliance?!"

"Mm." Wuliji's reply was steady and firm, with zero hesitation. "Him. I'm marrying him."

Hutuke opened his mouth, his throat dry, and finally managed to choke out a sentence.

"...Wuliji, barring any surprises, this Young Master Lin... should be a guy." He tried to knock some sense into him with the most basic logic.

Wuliji nodded once, matter-of-fact: "Exactly. I want him."

Hutuke: "..."

He took a deep breath, his brain spinning. Could this be... some new kind of insult? Using "marriage alliance" as a cover to humiliate him?

But looking at Wuliji's vibe, it didn't seem like he was playing politics.

Was he really not afraid that if he brought this up, the Lin family would rally their whole clan and fight to the death, peace talks be damned?

He looked at Wuliji's face again, searching for even a hint of mockery or scheming.

But there was none—only a near-pure seriousness in those deep eyes, carrying an unshakable determination.

Hutuke fell silent, rubbing his increasingly aching temples. He felt like he wasn't facing his top general.

He was facing a kid with weird logic—and ridiculously strong, too.

After a long while, with a sense of defeated helplessness, he spoke again, his tone laced with absurd probing.

"Wuliji... since you've brought it up, why not... set your sights a bit higher?

How about we try to get Cui Ji for a marriage alliance? If he came over, we'd be unstoppable!" This was pure nonsense said out of sheer desperation.

At this, Wuliji's usually unreadable face finally showed the tiniest flicker of unease.

Like he'd touched something filthy, his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly as he refused flat-out.

"...I don't like Cui Ji."

Hutuke was completely out of ideas. He let out a heavy sigh and wiped every trace of humor off his face.

"Wuliji, this Khan can bring up this... request with the Zhou people."

He just couldn't bring himself to say "marriage alliance" again. "But you need to be ready—this has a ninety-nine percent chance of falling through."

Hutuke obviously knew the Lin family's pull. Unless the Young Master Lin was head-over-heels for Wuliji, he couldn't think of any reason the guy would agree to come marry him.

He expected Wuliji to be disappointed, or to push him to fight harder for it.

But Wuliji's reaction surprised him again.

He just nodded calmly, like he'd seen this coming all along.

"The Great Khan only needs to raise it. If he's unwilling..." Wuliji's gaze drifted to the thick darkness outside the tent, his tone carrying a quiet confidence. "...I'll go find him myself."

Hutuke watched him, seeing that look of "I'm just letting you know—I'll handle the rest myself," and found himself at a loss for words.

He could already picture it: whether the peace talks worked or not, the northern border of Great Zhou would be anything but peaceful.

This Young Master Lin was in for some serious trouble.

...

Cheng Ge stood with his hands in his sleeves, tending a small charcoal brazier.

He stared intently at the lamb skewers sizzling in front of him, his focus as sharp as if he were studying some legendary military manual.

When the heat was just right, he flipped the skewers with a skill that rivaled a veteran soldier handling a blade.

As the meat met the charcoal with a "sizzle," Cheng Ge quickly grabbed his jar of secret spice mix and dusted it evenly with a few quick shakes.

Instantly, a bold aroma—mixing charred crispness, rich meat, and exotic spices—filled the air, mouth-watering enough to make anyone drool.

Cheng Ge sniffed in satisfaction, then eagerly grabbed the plumpest skewer.

Ignoring the heat, he blew on it twice and took a big bite.

Crispy outside, tender inside, juices bursting in his mouth, blended with the unique flavor of the secret spices.

Cheng Ge squinted, totally lost in the pure bliss of roasted lamb, feeling like life didn't get better than this.

He picked up the warm milk tea from the side table, took a satisfying gulp, and was about to go at the lamb again—

With a "whoosh," the tent flap was yanked open, and a blast of biting wind and snow rushed in, scattering the warm smell of roasted meat.

Cui Ji strode in, still carrying the chill of unmelted snow on his shoulders and the tips of his hair.

He quickly unfastened his heavy armor, tossed it aside, and walked straight to the brazier, sitting down next to Cheng Ge like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Cheng Ge, still chewing with puffed cheeks, blinked at him.

Seeing Cui Ji seated, he obligingly offered the lamb skewer in his hand.

Cui Ji took it and, biting right where Cheng Ge had bitten, tore off a piece and chewed slowly.

His face showed little expression, but the cold, hard aura he'd brought back from the battlefield seemed to thaw somewhat in the aroma of the roast.

As he ate, he picked up a few raw skewers, laid them expertly over the charcoal, turning and seasoning them...

One roasted, the other ate—their coordination seamless, leaving only the crackle of charcoal and the satisfied sounds of chewing in the tent.

Warmth and savory fragrance shut out the wind and snow beyond, creating their own cozy haven.

Suddenly, an excited voice came from outside the tent: "General! The Northern Di have sent an envoy with a peace treaty."

Cheng Ge was mid-bite on a chewy piece of lamb when he froze at the words, his eyes going wide.

Cui Ji's face didn't show much. He just shoved the perfectly grilled skewer into Cheng Ge's hand, wiped his hands with a cloth, and said in a low voice, "Bring it here."

A guard entered with his head bowed, holding out a rolled sheepskin scroll with both hands.

Cui Ji took it, unrolled it, and his eyes quickly scanned it.

The opening clauses were the usual stuff—ceasefire, border demarcation, mutual trade, and the like. Humiliating, sure, but not unexpected.

However, when his gaze landed on the additional clause appended at the end, that face that never showed a thing even if Mount Tai collapsed—stiffened, just barely, for a split second.

Cheng Ge rarely saw Cui Ji look like that. His stomach dropped, and the mutton suddenly didn't taste so good anymore.

He chewed quickly and swallowed, then asked hesitantly, "…What are the peace terms? Are they that bad? Are those bastards trying to screw us over again?"

Cui Ji looked at Cheng Ge, his lips tightening just barely, his face a mess of emotions.

He didn't answer. He just silently handed the treaty over.

Cheng Ge took it, wary, his eyes quickly running over the scroll.

The earlier clauses, though a bit much, were still within reason. He cursed under his breath as he read.

Until his gaze fell on the final clause—it was like the air froze.

Cheng Ge's eyes nearly popped out of his head, his mouth hanging open, the mutton he'd just eaten felt stuck in his throat.

He snapped his head up, looking from the treaty to Cui Ji.

Then he lowered his gaze again, staring at that line as if he could burn a hole through the sheepskin.

Everything came out as one explosive shriek: "Holy shit!!!"

His voice cracked as he pointed at the clause, his finger shaking. "A marriage pact?! Yu Li?! With Wuliji?!"

He jumped up from his cushion like his ass had been burned by the charcoal.

He paced around the tent twice, then rushed back to Cui Ji, shoving the treaty right in his face.

"Wait! Are you sure this is a peace treaty? Not some fanfic written by the Beidi people?

Or did they all eat some bad shrooms and start tripping?!"

He couldn't believe his eyes. His whole worldview was being turned upside down.

"Is that Wuliji guy lost his damn mind from fighting? Or has he been a woman all along and we never noticed?!" He started throwing out wild guesses without thinking.

Cui Ji looked at Cheng Ge, then pointed to the Northern Di royal seal stamped right there at the end of the scroll. "The seal is genuine. It can't be faked."

"How can he, a Northern Di general, like men?! Does he have no shame?!"

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Realizing what he'd just said, he shot a guilty, sneaky glance at Cui Ji, his Adam's apple bobbing as he scrambled to cover his tracks.

"I-I mean, he's out of his mind! Delusional! Who is Yu Li? He's… he's a man of integrity and honor!

He deserves a proper, gentle, virtuous lady from a good family!" His voice trailed off into barely audible mumbling.

Cui Ji just snorted, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, and said nothing.

Cheng Ge clutched the offending treaty, his fingers unconsciously tightening, creasing the tough sheepskin.

He hesitated, then edged closer to Cui Ji, lowering his voice, sounding hopeful but cautious: "Hey, Cui Ji… what do you say we… uh… shelve this for now, just pretend we never got it…?"

Cui Ji was turning a sizzling skewer of meat. He didn't stop what he was doing, just replied flatly, "Sure. Just make sure you and your whole clan have your coffins ready first."

Cheng Ge: "…"

He shrank back, instantly deflated like a popped balloon, letting out a small "oh."

He smoothed out the crumpled treaty, looking embarrassed, and carefully put it back, muttering under his breath: "I… I just think it should be mutual, you know? Both sides have to want it. Forced matches never work out.

And besides, you know how Yu Li is—he's obviously… obviously straight!

Yeah, straight! The kind who only likes women! Forcing him into this, how could he ever be happy…"

Hearing Cheng Ge confidently declare that Lin Nanshu was "straight," the corner of Cui Ji's mouth twitched, just barely. He handed Cheng Ge another skewer.

Cheng Ge took it, took a bite absentmindedly, and chewed a few times.

"And I've heard that Wuliji is built like a tank, strong as an ox, with arms thicker than my thighs!

If Yu Li's skinny ass goes over there…" He sucked in a sharp breath. "He'd be dead!"

His eyes darted around, then lit up with a scheme. He held his skewer up to Cui Ji's mouth, all eager and ingratiating.

"Hey, Cui Ji, what if we… doctored the name a bit?

After all, the emperor's a long way off. We could find… find some guy who's already into dudes, and send him to the alliance instead of Yu Li?

Who knows, it might even become a 'love story for the ages'?" The more he talked, the more brilliant the idea seemed to him, his eyes lighting up.

Cui Ji stopped chewing abruptly at those words.

The meat in his mouth suddenly felt like it was full of tiny needles, prickling his throat, making it hard to swallow.

He looked at Cheng Ge's expectant face with no expression, nodded, and said flatly: "Fine."

Cheng Ge's eyes went wide. He grabbed Cui Ji's wrist, unable to believe it: "Really?! You're on board?!"

Cui Ji let him hold on, gave a faint "Mm," then added: "After all, there aren't many of us left in my Cui clan's nine generations anyway."

Cheng Ge: "…………"

At Cui Ji's cold, casual remark, Cheng Ge's grip loosened. He pulled his hand back sheepishly, muttering: "…Then never mind."

He took a big, angry bite of meat, cheeks stuffed full, and mumbled: "I just… I just think this whole thing is insane!"

Cui Ji cut at the meat on the grill slowly and deliberately, his voice steady.

"Insane or not, the seal is real. This is way above our pay grade as border generals. We have to send it to the capital by express courier, eight hundred li a day, and let His Majesty and the court decide."

Cheng Ge got that. He just couldn't accept it easily.

He swallowed the meat, sighed, and slumped his shoulders: "I know… I just feel bad for Yu Li. What kind of bullshit is this…"

Cheng Ge's mind uncontrollably began to play out a scene—the weak, helpless, and pitiful Yuli, locked in a dark, damp little room of the Northern Di tribe, clothes in disarray, a few blood-streaked scratches on her fair face, her gaze broken yet stubborn.

Then, a massive shadow like a mountain slowly loomed over.

Wuliji's rough, ferocious face emerged in the dimness, a large hand covered in calluses and scars, with a force that couldn't be refused.

Firmly gripping Yuli's delicate chin, forcing her to lift her head.

Wuliji's low, hoarse voice, like the panting of a wild beast, echoed in the cramped space:

"For the rest of your life... you'll stay by my side."

"Shit—!" Cheng Ge's whole body jolted violently, and the skewer of meat in his hand nearly dropped into the fire.

He shook his head hard, trying to drive the terrifying image from his mind, but it only seemed clearer.

It even filled in a single crystal tear sliding down Yuli's cheek...