Chapter 54: Not Just a Pretty Face (Please Vote for Recommendations)

Ever since the little girl learned of Zhao Huan's true identity, she had grown somewhat reserved. Now, raising her head, she couldn't help but ask with curiosity, "Are you truly the Emperor?"

Zhao Huan patted the dragon throne beneath him and replied, "Tell me, is there anyone else under heaven who could sit upon this throne besides me?"

Her question had been born of idle curiosity. Blinking her large eyes, she said, "I really am foolish. I should have realized it sooner, and then I wouldn't have suffered such torment."

Seeing her like this, Zhao Huan couldn't help but touch his nose and chuckle. "Well, now you've met me. If there's something you wish to say, speak."

The girl lifted her head, took a deep breath, and finally summoned her courage. "Your Majesty, from now on, I wish to follow you."

Zhao Huan stroked his face. To be handsome and wealthy truly made all the difference. In his previous life as a recluse, no campus beauty had ever thrown herself into his arms.

Noticing his expression, the girl realized he had misunderstood her. She hastened to explain, "Oh, that's not what I meant! I only want to repay you for saving me. Don't get any strange ideas."

"And what strange ideas would those be?" Zhao Huan teased, unable to resist.

"You... you... you know perfectly well what I mean!" she retorted, feigning indignation.

Zhao Huan smiled. "Very well, then tell me: how do you intend to repay me?" A mischievous smile played at the corner of his lips.

"I..." The girl straightened her back, sensing the slight derision in his words. "I have many skills, you know. Women have their own advantages over men, and besides, I'm a beautiful woman."

Zhao Huan neither agreed nor disagreed, but he still refused. "Forget it. You're a young lady. You shouldn't be out and about. Just find a good man to marry."

Surprisingly, his words made the girl flush with anger. "Hmph! They say the new Emperor is wise, but I see he's no different from the rest!"

Zhao Huan saw that she was deliberately provoking him, but in truth, he was doing the same.

"In ancient times, Hua Mulan joined the army in her father's stead. I, Yang Feiyan, can do the same." So, her name was Yang Feiyan.

"So, you wish to become a soldier?" Zhao Huan looked at her and asked.

"Indeed. The invaders killed my entire family. I have an irreconcilable vendetta with them!" Yang Feiyan's gaze was resolute.

So that was the reason.

Zhao Huan nodded. "You are spirited, I'll give you that. But you need not concern yourself. I will see justice done for the people of Great Song."

Yang Feiyan wanted to argue further, but Zhao Huan cut her off. "Enough with the roundabout talk. Speak your true purpose, or I will not grant your request."

"My goal is to personally kill Wanyan Chang!" At this, Yang Feiyan's face twisted in pain. The hatred was written clearly upon her features.

"My elder sister was defiled by that beast. I watched her die before my very eyes. She was once so beautiful, yet died so tragically. I swore then and there that I would kill Wanyan Chang with my own hands. That vow is the reason I still live," she said.

Hearing her story, Zhao Huan could not help but feel a surge of sympathy. In these troubled times, there were countless people like Yang Feiyan in the Yan Yun region.

"So, you wish to care for those orphans, hoping to one day use them to take your revenge?" Zhao Huan's tone was icy.

"No, no!" Yang Feiyan grew agitated. "Our parents were all slain by the Jin. We share the same goal: to kill the invaders. I've never exploited them!"

Zhao Huan gazed into her eyes. With his heightened senses, he could easily spot a lie, but her eyes were clear—she spoke the truth.

"Hmph!" Zhao Huan strode up to her, grasped her chin, and said, "But to me, you're just a pretty face."

As he said this, his hand lingered on her cheek. He had to admit, Yang Feiyan was stunning. Any man would be tempted.

Yang Feiyan clenched her teeth, her eyes squeezed shut in tension, but her voice was unwavering. "I am not just a pretty face!"

Her words gave Zhao Huan pause. He withdrew his hand, gave a cold snort, and said, "Whether you're just a pretty face or not, we'll see. Enter the Flying Feather Army disguised as a man. If you can endure the training, I'll use you. If not, accept your fate as a mere decoration—these are men's affairs."

Yang Feiyan was overjoyed. "Truly?"

"An Emperor does not go back on his word. But don't celebrate too soon—the Flying Feather Army's training is not something a mere girl can withstand," Zhao Huan warned.

"Don't underestimate me. I will prove you wrong," she said proudly. In truth, this girl was proud to her bones.

By sending Yang Feiyan to the Flying Feather Army, Zhao Huan had acted on a whim, never expecting that he would thus help forge a future female general of Song. As a man from another era, Zhao Huan held no prejudice against women—after all, in the world to come, women would hold up half the sky.

The crisis in Zhen Ding City had been resolved, but Zhao Huan now faced a new dilemma: what to do with the thirty thousand Jin prisoners of war. Mishandling so many could easily spark chaos, and the problem had consumed much of his thoughts.

The Minister of War, Li Gang, submitted a memorial, requesting the execution of all thirty thousand, proposing that Song emulate the Tang dynasty by constructing a monument outside Bianjing to avenge the dead soldiers. Many generals supported this approach.

Yet the Minister of Rites, Li Ruoshui, argued against it, insisting such an action would harm the Song's image as a great nation; to slaughter captives was unworthy of a land famed for its civility.

To Zhao Huan, Li Ruoshui's reasoning was mere sentimentality. Weak nations have no diplomacy. In these times, when Song was bullied on all sides, what claim did it have to greatness?