Chapter 406 Snatched Away

Chapter 406: Abduction

Wuliji looked at Hutuke's demeanor—as if facing a formidable enemy, almost unhinged—and found the whole thing utterly absurd.

Had this man truly lost his mind? Threatening him with a Central Plains man who'd been involved with Yuli—a man he'd meant to deal with anyway—and offering such laughable terms?

The frost on his face didn't thaw one bit from Hutuke's threats. Instead, it only gained more impatience and icy scorn.

Without any pause, without even glancing at Zhou Ming's dying state, his steps steady, he kept advancing on Hutuke.

Step by step... calm and oppressive, as if what lay ahead wasn't a blade and a hostage, just an ordinary path.

Hutuke's eyes flashed with stunned incredulity! He'd figured Wuliji would at least hesitate, negotiate, or hold back because his "lover" was in his grasp.

But the man was walking over so bluntly, without a single moment of hesitation!

Those bottomless eyes showed no panic, no pain—only a bone-deep cold and... a hint of disdain, like watching a buffoon.

"You—!" Hutuke's heart hammered at this utterly unexpected reaction. A panic at being completely dismissed and outmaneuvered, mixed with rage, flooded his head.

His hand on Zhou Ming's neck clenched hard, fingers nearly digging into the fragile flesh and bone!

"Hah—!" A fractured wheeze tore from Zhou Ming's throat as darkness flooded his vision, suffocation drowning him like a flood.

The last bit of air in his lungs was wrung out. His face went from blue-purple to a ghastly deathly gray, his eyes bulging, shot through with blood.

All he could see was Wuliji's tall form—closing in, but blurred and warped.

Survival instinct made his bound hands jerk and twist behind him, legs kicking weakly, like a fish flopping on dry land.

He truly thought he was going to die—here, in this godforsaken place where he couldn't even figure out what was going on!

Sheer terror and the agony of dying made his mind go hazy, but a sliver of defiance and a desperate will to live kept him going.

Using the very last of his strength, he strained to thrust his bound wrists toward Wuliji—a plea for help.

Seeing this, the cruelty in Hutuke's eyes sharpened.

He suddenly freed a hand and savagely ripped the filthy rag from Zhou Ming's mouth!

"Cough... hah... save... save me..." The instant the rag left his mouth, Zhou Ming hacked and wheezed like a busted bellows.

But with his windpipe crushed, breathing was still agonizing. His voice was so hoarse and broken it barely made sense, mixed with pained, rattling gasps.

He wanted to say "It's not what you think"... but the lack of oxygen tied his tongue and wiped his mind blank, leaving him to force out only a few garbled, half-formed sounds.

Uncontrollable, purely physical tears poured from his bloodshot eyes—brought on by suffocation and searing pain, not love. But to anyone watching...

What everyone in the tent saw was this: the Central Plains youth, choked to death's door by the Great Khan, still stubbornly staring at Wuliji with tear-filled eyes, croaking "help me," hand outstretched—the very image of a devoted lover, wronged and desperate for her man to save her!

This sight, combined with Hutuke's earlier confident insinuations and Wuliji's brief freeze, all but confirmed the rumors of a "secret affair" between them.

The Chiefs in the corner exchanged shifty, knowing looks—shocked and uncertain. The Palace Guards also began to stir restlessly.

Hutuke drank in Zhou Ming's reaction and the faces of the crowd, and the flicker of doubt from Wuliji's strange behavior was instantly crushed, replaced by an even more certain cruelty.

Of course! Wuliji's cold front was all a put-on!

He must be swallowing his heartache, faking indifference to lull him into complacency and find a window to save the kid!

And him closing in step by step—wasn't that just him hunting for an opening? This Central Plains brat's state was all the proof he needed!

"Wuliji! Take one more step!" Hutuke bellowed, yanking Zhou Ming up until his feet left the ground entirely, his body jerking in the air like a dangling doll.

His face was black-purple, eyes rolled back, more dead than alive.

"I'll shatter his neck this instant! You'll regret this for the rest of your life!"

Even as he threatened, he hauled Zhou Ming back, trying to create space between himself and Wuliji, while frantically signaling the guards around him to close in.

Wuliji finally stopped about five paces from Hutuke.

Not because the threat scared him—but because from here, he could see Zhou Ming's death throes clearly, and it was close enough... to do something.

He stood there, silent, his gaze sliding past the dying Zhou Ming to lock onto Hutuke's twisted face. Then, with agonizing slowness, he shook his head.

The shake was slight, but it carried an absolute, unshakable no—and a trace of something hard to name... pity?

Then he spoke. His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the tent's tense air like an ice pick, reaching every ear clearly.

"Hutuke," he said—no "Great Khan" this time, just his name. "Let my people go."

Wuliji's voice was utterly flat, yet it slammed into Hutuke's chest like a sledgehammer. Not a request. Not a negotiation. A statement. A command.

Hutuke's heart skipped. Wuliji's tone... something was off.

His hand on Zhou Ming's neck unconsciously loosened a notch as he roared, all bluster and no bite, "Wuliji! You need to understand! Your people—"

He rattled the half-dead Zhou Ming in his grip, "—and his life are in my hands! Who the hell do you think you're talking to?!"

Wuliji's gaze finally condescended to flick over Zhou Ming's purple face and bulging eyes, then slid away. "Suit yourself."

Those two words hit Hutuke like ice water, freezing his threats and schemes solid.

Wuliji's face was terrifyingly calm—this wasn't a mask.

And an invisible pressure, like a mountain crashing down, bore straight down on Hutuke with that calm gaze, crushing him.

Hutuke's eyes finally showed a flash of panic he couldn't hide.

No! This was completely wrong! From what he knew of Wuliji, the man prized clan loyalty above everything—he'd never abandon his own people to die!

And besides... word was that Wuliji had long been head over heels for Lin Nanshu. How could he... not care at all?

Caught between doubt and alarm, his grip on Zhou Ming's neck loosened a little more.

"Cough... hah... hah..." Zhou Ming suddenly got a sliver of a chance to breathe.

Like a dying fish thrown back in water, he instinctively gaped, gulping air greedily and painfully.

He hacked violently, tears and snot plastered all over his face. He instinctively looked at Wuliji, praying he wouldn't pull any more crazy stunts.

That brief look, that fragile face—to Hutuke's frantic mind, it was just more proof. See! This brat only has eyes for Wuliji, just as he thought!

And Wuliji's "I don't care" act earlier? Definitely fake!

He was deliberately provoking him, trying to make him think the kid was worthless so he'd kill him—or drop his guard.

Sure he'd cracked the code, Hutuke's panic eased a little, replaced by the sting of being played and an even deeper savagery. If Wuliji was going to "pretend" not to care, then he'd make him care!

His face suddenly twisted into a savage snarl, and his free hand whipped out the dagger from his waist.

A flash of cold light—he wasn't using Zhou Ming as a hostage anymore—he drove the blade straight down at his skull!

If that landed, his brains would be splattered all over!

"F*ck!!!" Zhou Ming's soul nearly left his body; his survival instinct kicked in above all else!

His bound hands, which had just loosened a bit from the rope, suddenly exploded with incredible strength out of nowhere. In the nick of time, he jerked his hands up, clasping them together, and barely caught the descending blade handle!

The icy dagger tip was a hair's breadth from the skin between his eyebrows!

Zhou Ming felt all his blood rush to his head, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it would jump out of his throat, every cell in his body screaming with effort!

His hands were jarred numb from the shock, and he used every last ounce of strength to hold off that death-dealing dagger.

Veins bulged on his forehead, his pupils constricted, as he glared up at Hutuke's twisted, ferocious face, contorted with effort.

The bloodthirsty gleam in Hutuke's eyes blazed even brighter. Pressing down harder, he spat out venomous words through clenched teeth:

"Fine! Since you, Wuliji, don't give a damn about him, I'll chop him up and throw him to the wolves! Let's see how long you can keep pretending!"

The tent went dead silent, broken only by the faint scrape of dagger against bone and Zhou Ming's ragged, desperate breathing.

But just then, when the tension was about to blow—

"Report—!!!" A palace guard stumbled and scrambled into the tent, his face white as a ghost, not even stopping to bow, and shouted hoarsely:

"Bad news! Great Khan! The stone prison's been hit! All the Uerha Tribe hostages are gone!

And... several khatuns and the young prince... they're gone too!!!"

"What?!!!" The news hit like a thunderbolt, exploding in the deathly silent royal tent!

Everyone in the tent turned to stare at Wuliji in unison!

Raiding the prison?! And taking the Great Khan's wife and son?! Wuliji... how the hell did he dare?! When did he set this up?! How could he be this bold?!

A loud "boom" went off in Hutuke's mind, as if something had detonated.

All his earlier doubts, suspicions, and schemes suddenly connected in that moment, crystallizing into the coldest, most terrifying reality—

Wuliji had never been pretending! His ruthless killing today, his relentless pressure, even his indifference to his "lover's" life...

All of it was simply to rescue the hostages! He was drawing all attention to himself, buying time!

Rebellion! Wuliji was staging a rebellion!!!

"Wuliji—!!!" Hutuke let out a nearly beast-like roar of ultimate fury.

He suddenly kicked out, savagely striking the messenger soldier. "Useless! A bunch of useless fools!!"