Chapter 89: The Young General

As Wang Shan’s voice faded, the pace of the approaching group noticeably slowed. They mounted their horses and strode purposefully toward them. After exchanging uncertain glances, Chen Gong, Wang Shan, Wen Qing, and several others rose to their feet.

Soon, the group came into view: fully armored, each step exuding a fierce aura. As they drew closer, the young men instinctively retreated a step. The armored group advanced, and at their head was a young man, perhaps sixteen years old. Under the flickering firelight, his silver armor gleamed with a crystalline, forbidding beauty. Paired with his striking features, the pampered, unruly youths and maidens present were suddenly gripped by an indescribable sense of awe.

Lu Ying cast a glance and noticed that every young lady unconsciously turned her gaze toward the young man.

He was strikingly handsome: tall and poised, brows bold, nose straight, lips thin as if carved, eyes sharp and cold, giving an overwhelming sense of dominance. It was clear at a glance that he was born to privilege and accustomed to command.

Although the other young men present were only a year or two his junior, the young general’s presence immediately subdued them all, compelling them to bow their heads and await his words.

After surveying the crowd, the young general nodded and said coldly, “Traveling brings many inconveniences; tonight we must trouble you with our company.” With that, he waved his hand.

At his gesture, the knights dispersed and, in moments, began setting up camp only a hundred paces away.

During the camp’s assembly, the area remained hushed.

Having scrutinized each person, the young general turned and departed.

His exit was met with a collective sigh of relief. Chen Gong whispered, “Wang, do you know who he is?”

Wang Shan shook his head and replied softly, “I don’t know, but judging by the situation, he must be someone of great importance.”

“With your family’s influence in Luoyang, you don’t recognize him?”

Wang Shan gave a wry smile. “I’m not Yin Che—I can’t possibly know every noble son.”

This made sense; the others turned away and began whispering among themselves. While they talked, Wen Qing muttered something with a furrowed brow. His voice was low, but Chen Shu, beside him, heard clearly. At once, Chen Shu’s brows rose, and his eyes flashed as he looked toward the young general.

Just then, Ati spoke up, “It shouldn’t be hard to find out his identity. So handsome, so young, already a general—there can’t be many like him in Luoyang.”

At this, Chen Shu’s eyes sparkled even brighter.

As the others discussed, Lu Ying moved to the fire, warming her hands as she pondered: With their strength, these knights could easily camp alone—why join us?

She glanced back and thought: They’re camped so close to us that, to outsiders, it would seem we’re a single group.

With these thoughts, she casually strolled among the tents and mounts.

After a brief walk, footsteps approached, and a cold voice asked, “What are you looking at?”

The voice was icy yet pleasant—it was the young general.

Lu Ying was startled, turning to face him. Beneath the faint moonlight, his eyes, shadowed by his helmet, stared sharply at her.

She glanced behind him—near the fire, the others laughed and chatted, oblivious to this secluded corner.

Given his status, he could have summoned her openly. Clearly, he did not wish to attract attention.

Understanding, Lu Ying bowed and replied quietly, “Nothing, sir, just passing time out of boredom.”

As she spoke, the young general raised his gaze, staring at her striking face. He said, “I heard you have sharp eyes—last night you helped fend off bandits. If you notice anything tonight, do let me know.”

With that, he strode away.

Listening to the clinking of his armor as he left, Lu Ying looked toward the fire, realizing that someone must have mentioned last night’s events after seeing her walk about, and the young general overheard.

He spoke with such seriousness—could something truly happen tonight?

With this thought, Lu Ying settled herself and quietly walked the perimeter, scrutinizing every corner.

When she returned, the Chen family and Wang Shan’s group had gathered at a large fire, with Chen Yan sitting at the edge.

Though she sat apart, her position was chosen with care—the firelight illuminated her face and figure, allowing those on the left to see her beauty clearly.

Watching Chen Yan’s exquisite features in the glow of the fire—her pitiful expression, the hint of grievance and fragility—Lu Ying’s brows twitched.

She glanced back; from the young general’s vantage, he could easily admire Chen Yan’s beauty. Lu Ying’s lips curled slightly.

As she approached, several youths looked up; unlike Mo Yuan and the others, Chen Shu’s gaze was wary and complex.

Clearly, he did not welcome her presence.

After all, Chen Yan had just been set up after a brief encounter with her—they were right to keep her away.

So Lu Ying turned toward another small fire.

After some laughter, Chen Shu stood, wine jar in hand, and walked toward the young general.

Throughout, Chen Yan remained in her corner, keeping the fire’s glow upon her face, making her cheeks rosy.

Under the moonlight, Chen Shu exchanged only a few words with the young general before returning, his mood subdued. From the general’s cold expression in the firelight, everyone realized: he had shown Chen Shu no favor.

When Chen Shu sat again, Lu Ying noticed that Chen Yan’s expression had dimmed.

Lu Ying withdrew her gaze.

After a moment’s thought, she rose and walked outside.

Seeing her move, Ati called out, “Lu Ying, are you checking again? With so many of us, no bandits would dare approach.”

Ati’s voice was loud, drawing everyone’s attention to Lu Ying.

Confronted by so many eyes, Lu Ying smiled and returned to the fire.

But as she settled, a knight approached in long strides. As he neared, Chen Yan’s eyes grew brighter and brighter...

Soon, the knight stood beside Lu Ying, saluted, and said, “Young master, my general wishes to speak with you.”

To be summoned so openly, before everyone.

Lu Ying’s brows creased, but the knight, having spoken, turned away without waiting for her reply.

She hesitated, then followed. She did not notice Chen Yan’s eyes, burning with resentment as she sat in the corner, presenting her most beautiful side.

Soon, Lu Ying arrived before the young general.

He lifted a wine jug, pouring her a cup himself, and said gently, “Sit.”

Lu Ying did not sit; she sighed, “General, though I wear male attire, I am a nun…”

Before she could finish, the young general’s expression hardened, and he barked, “Sit down!”

Helpless, Lu Ying sat.

“Drink!”

He commanded again.

Lu Ying lifted the cup.

“Speak.”

“Speak about what?”

The young general glanced at her impatiently. “Your thoughts, of course. After your circuit and pondering, surely you have something to say?”

She did have thoughts, but hesitated to voice them. Truthfully, no matter what happened, she could protect herself. The more conspicuous she became, the greater the powers she might offend.

The young general was clearly perceptive. He stared at her and ordered, “Speak your mind!”

In the firelight, his gaze was piercing. He had, in his brief time here, gleaned from idle chatter the full story of last night’s events. The spoiled young nobles might not grasp the significance, but he did.

Two servants, the bandits, the wine-laden donkey cart—none had shown obvious flaws.

Yet, surrounded by pampered youths and without aid, this young nun turned the tide single-handedly, without any clear evidence. That was remarkable.

This nun before him was not to be underestimated.

Lu Ying considered, then spoke slowly, “I think, General, it would be wise to camp elsewhere. I recall, about a thousand paces away, there’s a spot with mountains and water.”

As she finished, a knight laughed gruffly, “That’s your idea?”

Lu Ying smiled coolly. “Yes. If we camp a thousand paces apart, we can support each other. Anyone attacking one group must consider the other.”

The young general raised his head, eyes sharp.

Lu Ying met his gaze, then lowered her head, sipping her wine quietly.

In the firelight, Lu Ying, dressed as a young man, was calm and confident, exuding a soothing strength.

He claimed to be a nun? Such a nun, he had never seen.

After a long pause, the young general said, “Good.”

He stood, waved his hand, and ordered, “Strike the tents. We’re leaving.” With that, he strode away.

The cavalry, all decisive men, dismantled their camp in moments. Then came the muffled thunder of hooves.

Only after watching them depart did Lu Ying turn back. As she walked, she mused: Who could these people have angered, to be so wary?

Lost in thought, she returned to the fire, and only then noticed that everyone was staring at her, yet not one uttered a word.