Shang Ruyi smiled faintly, but as she turned her head and looked at this vast Yatai in front of her, and the boundless grassland beyond, her expression beca solemn and tense again.
Especially with the cold wind blowing straight at her, carrying the sound of heavy footsteps.
Shang Ruyi looked up and saw a familiar, tall figure walking out from the King’s Tent on the high platform, his figure burly, yet his shoulders were tight like a bow drawn to its limit, especially his face, which seed even gloomier than the current sky.
It was Ashina Zhuxie.
The Crown Prince of the Western Turks.
He walked down step by step, followed by several ministers, all with very solemn expressions, whispering to each other, clearly discussing strategies, yet Prince Zhu Xie remained silent, until he walked near his own tent, almost instinctively, glanced at the tent on this side.
Then, he saw Shang Ruyi.
The mont their eyes t, Shang Ruyi saw his ominous and fierce gaze.
"...!"
Sowhere on her body twitched.
And the next mont, Ashina Zhuxie lowered his head, as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t seen anything, lifted the tent flap, and entered his tent, when several ministers were about to follow him inside, but seed to be stopped by his words, they stiffened there, looked at each other, and with puzzled expressions, shook their heads and sighed, leaving his tent.
The tent flap fell, leaving only silence.
And Shang Ruyi, her body similarly tense and stiff, stood quietly in place, motionlessly, for a long ti, before slowly lowering her head, looking at her hand, and the tip of her little finger that had long lost sensation.
It was just now that it twitched.
In that mont of eting Ashina Zhuxie’s gaze, with the twitch of that numb little fingertip, a dust-covered mory in her mind suddenly awakened.
Speaking of it, her little finger had been scarred from an early age, before it was broken in fights with those beggars, it was injured once.
She vaguely rembered, when she was young, traveling with her father among the Turks, she once witnessed people on the grassland capturing an eagle, and in attempting to capture the fierce creature alive, the Divine Archer of the Eastern Turks shot the eagle’s wing, and the eagle, larger than a person, fell screaming. Even with an arrow piercing its wing, bleeding, the eagle still struggled defiantly, extending its talons and even pecking at people who approached.
In the end, they could only cover it with a large net so that it couldn’t hurt anyone anymore.
Seeing the eagle pinned firmly to the ground, Shang Ruyi dared to approach and tried to touch it.
Unexpectedly, just as the adults gently lifted the corner of the net to grasp the eagle’s wing, the eagle suddenly opened its mouth and pecked Shang Ruyi’s little finger, causing blood to flow freely, the pain making her cry.
Her father imdiately ca back, holding her and comforting her.
But the eagle took the opportunity to break free from the net, pecking several more people, and eventually flapping its injured and bloody wings, soaring into the sky again, struggling to fly away.
Shang Ruyi clearly rembered, the mont the eagle was caught by the net and pecked her finger, its gaze was exactly the sa as Ashina Zhuxie’s just now!
Was it an illusion?
Yet, looking at the tent door closing, becoming quiet like a montarily frozen heart, Shang Ruyi couldn’t figure out if that mont was a mistake, only feeling a fleeting thought in her heart tremble again.
Thoughtfully, she turned around, step by step, towards the small tent prepared for her by the maidservants.
Though the distance was not far, she walked very slowly, and as she walked, she looked around, noticing that the nobles who had just headed to the King’s Tent had already co out, so gathering in small groups talking, so leaving with worried brows, and further ahead, inside and outside the densely packed tents, all were Turkic soldiers, so cooking, so practicing riding, looking no different from usual.
The more Shang Ruyi looked, the more that fleeting sense of doubt in her heart grew heavier.
Sothing felt amiss.
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