Chapter 119: Even Thugs Have Their Sentiments

Wang Lun sensed a fierce murderous intent emanating from Wanyan Chang’s eyes!

As the notorious tyrant of Bianjing City, there was no way Wang Lun would simply sit and wait for death. In this critical moment, he planted his feet firmly and suddenly retreated, then with a swift motion of his right hand, a dagger concealed within his sleeve appeared in his grasp. This sequence of actions was seamless, clearly not Wang Lun’s first time performing such a move.

Before anyone could react, Wang Lun dodged Wanyan Chang’s attack and lunged forward, dagger aimed straight at him.

Wanyan Chang hadn’t expected Wang Lun to evade so easily. In his eyes, Wangan Lun was just a weak scholar, utterly powerless. He was genuinely shocked by the swift chain of actions.

“Haha, well played!” Wanyan Chang laughed as Wang Lun thrust his dagger. Unafraid, he advanced instead of retreating, swinging his massive axe with a roar, aiming straight for Wang Lun’s head.

Wang Lun’s dagger was barely over a foot long, no match at all for Wanyan Chang’s giant axe. Soon, Wang Lun fell to the defensive, forced to dodge wildly.

Wanyan Zonghan and the others merely watched the exchange as if it were entertainment, showing no intention of intervening.

Wang Lun’s situation was perilous.

“So this is how you Jin soldiers treat envoys? Aren’t you afraid the world will mock you if this gets out?” Wang Lun, refusing to give in, began to taunt Wanyan Zonghan.

Wanyan Zonghan glanced at him calmly and said, “You entered my camp carrying a weapon. I don’t trust your intentions.”

“The weapon was merely for self-defense. If I hadn’t carried it, I’d likely be dead by your axe now,” Wang Lun retorted sarcastically. Distracted by his words, he failed to fully dodge Wanyan Chang’s axe, which slashed across his arm.

Luckily, the wound was superficial, but the broad blade left a deep gash that gushed blood, staining Wang Lun’s arm.

His face instantly turned pale as death.

“I’ll fight you to the death!” Seeing that Wanyan Zonghan made no move to stop Wanyan Chang, Wang Lun grew desperate. Ignoring his injury, he charged at Wanyan Chang with reckless abandon. He knew he couldn’t match him, but even wounding his foe would be a victory.

With a thunderous kick, Wanyan Chang sent Wang Lun flying. He raised his giant axe high, ready to finish him off.

“Stop!” At the critical moment, Wanyan Zonghan finally intervened.

The axe halted less than an inch from Wang Lun’s face. Had Wanyan Zonghan spoken a moment later, Wang Lun would have been dead.

Wanyan Chang gave Wang Lun one more vicious kick before returning to his seat, feeling much better after beating the boy up.

“General Wanyan Chang certainly has an imposing air,” Wanyan Yiyin said with a mocking smile.

“What do you mean by that, Wanyan Yiyin? If you’re dissatisfied, step up and fight instead of making snide remarks like a coward,” Wanyan Chang snapped angrily.

“Both of you, enough! Have you forgotten your ranks? Don’t make a fool of yourselves,” Wanyan Zonghan reprimanded them.

The two fell silent but their hostile glances remained.

Wang Lun struggled to rise, left bleeding profusely. No one came to help him, nor to tend his wound. The blood flowing from his arm drenched much of his body, making him look even more fierce and terrifying.

The pain must have been unbearable.

Enduring the agony, Wang Lun tore a piece from his outer garment and wrapped his wound himself, sweat beading and streaming down his face.

Despite the torment, he didn’t utter a sound. Veins bulged on his face, distorted by pain, yet he held back any cries lest the Jin soldiers mock him.

“Look, the Jin and Song are just like Wanyan Chang and you—power lies firmly on one side,” Wanyan Zonghan said, his tone heavy with warning. “When Wanyan Chang told you to call him ‘grandfather,’ if you had complied, you would have spared yourself this suffering. But you were stubborn, so this is your fate.” He paused before continuing, “And if I hadn’t stopped him just now, you’d already be dead. You’re smart; you should understand what I mean.”

A naked threat. Wanyan Zonghan, a formidable figure, used this metaphor to describe the war between Song and Jin: submit to Jin’s demands and be spared, refuse and face annihilation.

Wang Lun sneered. “A scholar may be killed, but never humiliated. Jin shamelessly violated the treaty between our nations and launched an unjust war. The outcome will be a crushing defeat. I advise you, General, to see reason before it’s too late—or your twenty thousand Jin troops will die in a foreign land.”

“You’re courting death, boy!” Wanyan Chang had expected Wang Lun to behave more obediently after being scolded but was surprised by his audacity.

“Hahaha...” Wang Lun laughed heartily, though his pale face made the sound oddly discordant. “You’re angry—that’s fear. You’re truly worried about what I’ve said coming true.”

“General, please allow me to kill this insolent wretch,” Wanyan Chang said furiously.

“Come and kill me, Wang Lun! There are thousands more like me in Song. You can forget about making us bow and pay tribute. That’s a fantasy!” Wang Lun declared, having long since cast aside any concern for his life. Even a rogue has his pride.

“Bring a medic to dress his wounds!” Wanyan Zonghan suddenly ordered.

The Jin revered martial valor and respected strength. Despite Wang Lun’s disrespectful words, his courage earned Wanyan Zonghan’s admiration, prompting the order to treat him.

“I admire your bravery,” Wanyan Zonghan said, extending an olive branch. “How about this: don’t return to Song. From now on, stay in Jin and serve as our logistics envoy for Shandong.”

Thus, the stage was set for Wang Lun’s uncertain fate.