Finest Servant Chapter 594 (Patreon)

Chapter 594 The Stranger and the Great Khan

A yellow imperial tent adorned with embroidered golden wolf heads and drawn by sixteen purebred blood-sweat horses—the grand spectacle could belong to no one else but the Khan of the Turks in these vast grasslands.

Tens of thousands of elite Turkic soldiers had halted their advance in the middle of the prairie, as if waiting for something. Silence permeated the air, punctuated only by the harsh breathing of the Turkic warriors and the occasional sneeze of a warhorse. Every Turkic eye was focused intently on the elevated carriage, filled with a reverence that they dared not disrupt for even a moment.

"Brother Hu, has anyone from our Great Hua ever seen the Turkic Khan?" Lin Wanrong asked in a deep voice.

Hu Bugui hummed in acknowledgment and softly nodded. "Great Hua and the Turks have been at war for years. Several Turkic envoys have come to Great Hua, acting arrogantly and unruly. They even dared to extort land and supplies from us by exploiting their military advantages. Naturally, they were sent back in disgrace, time and time again. Their Khan, Bilge, has been in power for over twenty years and these incidents have only escalated. The border wars have been unending, and so have their extortion attempts. Given the Emperor's fury, why would we send an envoy to meet their Khan? Their capital, Kyzil, is deep within the heart of the grasslands, thousands of miles from our borders. Aside from a daring merchant or two, who would risk their lives to conduct trade, no one from Great Hua has been there. Even if a Great Hua merchant managed to get there, given the relations between our two nations, they'd be making money surreptitiously. Who could have possibly met the Khan?"

"It makes sense," Lin Wanrong admitted. "Given the circumstances, Bilge Khan would be at least in his forties or fifties, correct?"

"Indeed," replied Hu Bugui, his voice tinged with regret. "The first time I went into battle, I heard that Bilge Khan was in his early thirties, leading his army personally. Unfortunately, we lost that battle so miserably we never even got to see the face of this Turkic Khan."

Hu Bugui had served in the military for more than twenty years. Considering the typically shorter lifespan of the Turks, Bilge Khan must be getting on in years. Lin Wanrong's eyes flashed with a cold light. "Brother Hu, are you certain that the current Khan is still Bilge?"

"It should be, unless he's dead—" Hu Bugui began, then suddenly looked startled. "General, do you suspect the Khan has been replaced?"

Lin Wanrong shook his head slightly. "I'm not sure, but I've been wondering why Zhao Kangning has been in Kyzil for so long without meeting the Turkic Khan. Given Bilge Khan’s ambitions towards Great Hua, he would not simply forsake such a valuable pawn. Something is strange here."

"It is indeed odd," Hu Bugui agreed, his brows furrowed. "As far as I know, last spring when the Turks made a large-scale invasion, Bilge Khan personally commended the warriors from various Turkic tribes. Then in the autumn, when the war was at its peak and they had the upper hand, they suddenly retreated, citing insufficient supplies. General Li found this peculiar and even sent scouts to investigate. But as soon as they set foot in the grasslands, they found the Turks on high alert. Our scouts circled around the edge of the grasslands, unable to find a breakthrough, and were eventually forced to withdraw."

"The crux of the matter lies here," Lin Wanrong said, his memory still vivid as he recounted the past. It was this very issue he had first discussed with Xiao Qingxuan by the banks of Xuanwu Lake.

"How many years have the barbarians been fighting us? One could say they are perpetually ready to advance into the Central Plains. How could they make such a novice mistake of running low on food and supplies? And why, despite their advantages, did they inexplicably retreat?"

Hu Bugui's eyes lit up, and he exclaimed, "Could it be as you suspect, General? That something happened to Bilge Khan last winter, forcing the Turks to withdraw? Did they deliberately hide this news to prevent us from counter-attacking? My God, if this is true, haven't we missed a once-in-a-millennium opportunity?"

"We'll know soon enough," Lin Wanrong sighed softly, his gaze falling on the distant golden wolf banners. There, canopies of gold fluttered in the wind, as Turkic cavalry slowly advanced, drawing the carriage of the Khan closer and closer.

It wasn't until then that it became clear that the man leading the Turkic cavalry was none other than Tursun, the Right Prince of the Turks, who had disappeared earlier. Mounted on a steed of pure pedigree, clad in full armor, his demeanor had shifted from previous disappointment to sheer radiance and majesty.

"Greetings, Great Khan!"

"May the Khan and the God of the Steppes be as one!"

Countless Turkic people pushed forward, falling to their knees from a distance and chanting fervently. As the Khan's caravan advanced, everyone bowed down, not daring to look up. They constantly shifted, kneeling in different directions, offering devout worship toward the Khan.

Since the establishment of the Turkic Khanate, they had unified tribes, built cities, and established a complete system of rituals and official ranks, showing signs of emerging as an empire. In this grandeur, they were hardly less impressive than the Emperor of Great Hua.

Almost everyone's attention was captured by the arrival of the Turkic Khan. The elite cavalry left by Lu Dongzan, along with the Kyzil garrison, were fully mobilized to ensure his safety.

Within this immense entourage, Yujia was nowhere to be seen, and even the maidens set to be chosen for marriage had seemingly disappeared.

The caravan halted in the center of the grasslands, and wooden pavilions draped with golden veils were erected. Golden wolf banners were planted everywhere, and thousands of Turkic cavalrymen faced east, tightly encircling sixteen majestic steeds.

The gallant Tursun spurred his horse into the center of the crowd. Suddenly pulling the reins, the horse neighed and its front hooves lifted into the air as it turned to face the Khan's carriage, about fifty yards away.

Dismounting, the Right Prince drew his blade with his left hand, placed his right hand over his left chest, and knelt on one knee. His powerful voice echoed across the steppes, "Right Prince Tursun pays his respects to the Great Khan. May the God of the Steppes be with the Khan!"

"May the God of the Steppes be with the Khan!" echoed the surrounding Turkic people, who had already prostrated themselves, following Tursun in paying homage to the Great Khan.

Of course, these words were translated by Hu Bugui; Lin Wanrong was entirely clueless about the Turkic language.

The Right Prince and all the Turkic people knelt down, and the steppes fell into a silence so profound that even the sound of a needle dropping could be clearly heard.

It should be the time for the Turkic Khan to speak. Where is Yueya'er? Where is she? Lin Wanrong felt his heart suddenly thump, gripped by an indescribable tension. Glancing back, he saw that Old Gao and Hu Bugui looked even more taut-faced than him. Presumably, everyone felt the same tension at this moment.

"Right Prince, all the princes, and my Turkic people, please rise," a child-like voice broke the silence, resonating melodiously through the tranquil grasslands and echoing in everyone's ears.

Was this the Turkic Khan? Lin Wanrong's eyes widened in disbelief. Both Gao Qiu and Hu Bugui were so stunned that their mouths hung open. The voice clearly belonged to a child of five or six; it couldn't possibly be the great Bilge Khan.

"General, you were right; something must have happened to the Turks. Judging by the dates, it likely occurred last winter or early this year. Damn it, Bilge Khan must be dead. These Turks have been concealing the news from us," Hu Bugui pulled at his sleeve, his trembling lips betraying his excitement.

Lin Wanrong remained silent. Kyzil was far from the Great Hua's capital, a journey of at least two or three months. Add to that the Turks' deliberate news blockade, it was not surprising that the common Turkic people, as well as the Great Hua, had been kept in the dark for months.

What surprised him was the cunning of these Turks.

If his predictions were correct, Bilge Khan must have been seriously ill last autumn, which ultimately led the Turks to reluctantly withdraw their troops despite their advantageous position. Perhaps the illness was sudden, but everything that followed had been meticulously planned by the Turks.

From concocting a reason for withdrawal to safeguard against the Great Hua's probing and attacks, to even a few months ago when Lu Dongzan came to the Great Hua under the guise of asking for a marriage alliance for Bilge Khan, everything was strategically arranged.

Knowing full well that the marriage was impossible, Lu Dongzan was indefatigable. He had two objectives: first, to use Bilge Khan's marriage proposal to gauge whether the Great Hua had learned of the change in the Turks, and second, to scout the military situation in the Great Hua to prepare for their spring expedition.

The Turks' daring to invade Helan Mountain on a large scale again after half a year could only mean one thing: they had already straightened out their internal relations or perhaps followed the dying orders of Bilge Khan. Regardless, the Great Hua had missed their best opportunity. Even if they now knew about the change in the Turks' leadership, it was too late.

These Turks had been planning every move, calculating their steps meticulously. And behind them, there must be a brilliant strategist. Who could it be?

The face of Yueya'er, smiling silently, floated before his eyes—beautiful, ethereal, untouchable.

"In our Turks, I'm not the smartest person," Lu Dongzan's words still echoed in his ears. Only now did he understand the profound meaning behind them. Heaven was fair; it didn't favor anyone. Every nation had its share of brilliant minds—so it was with the Great Hua, and so it was with the Turks.

The new Turkic Khan was actually just a young child! Were they really at war with a kid? The news was almost too unbelievable to process. The tension and excitement of all their time deep in the grasslands paled in comparison to this moment. Old Gao licked his lips, his throat parched, gripping his blade tightly. "Brother Lin, what do we do now?"

"What should we do?!" Lin Wanrong replied leisurely with a smile, "Just wait and see."

"But Yueya’er is back. Given her intelligence, she'll know we're hiding here—"

Before Gao Qiu could finish, he was abruptly interrupted by a dismissive wave from Lin Wanrong. After a moment of silence, Lin Wanrong let out a small sigh. "Don't worry. The Yueya’er we know now neither recognize you nor me. To us, she's nothing more than a stranger. Brother Gao, would you be afraid of a stranger?"

Stranger? Hu Bugui and his companion were horrified beyond words. Today had been a day full of oddities. First, the Turkic Khan turned into a child, and now Yueya’er had become a stranger. They had never experienced anything as bizarre in their lives.

"General, what, what is going on?" Hu Bugui scratched his head, whispering.

Lin Wanrong shook his head slightly, his gaze settling on the yellow banner before him, remaining silent. Old Gao glared at Hu Bugui, gritting his teeth as he mouthed the word: "Idiot!"

After the Khan spoke, Tursun rose from the ground, and the surrounding Turkic people also quickly stood up, respectfully taking their places.

Tursun crossed his arms over his chest and announced, "Khan, today's sheep snatching competition has already seen four matches, and four valiant tribes have claimed victories. All of these are your loyal subjects—where are my brave sons? Quickly, bring the good news to our Khan!"

"Roar, roar—" The victors of the matches energetically waved and saluted the Khan and everyone present. Old Hu and his companions reluctantly waved back a couple of times.

"Good!" a youthful voice declared, "Each tribe is rewarded with fifty sheep."

"Thank you, Khan," Tursun respectfully bowed, "please, ascend to the platform."

The golden curtain fluttered slightly as several shadowy figures appeared to climb onto the central platform, barely discernible. The Right Prince smiled warmly, his mood completely changed from earlier.

The young Khan had been the one speaking all along, but there was no sign or sound of Yueya’er. Lin Wanrong wondered where she could be, and what her relationship with this young Khan was. Mother and son? Absurd—if Yueya’er was this young Khan's mother, then he himself must be the father. A child bride? Turks surely didn't practice such customs. In the end, he gave up guessing, opting to wait and see.

The Turkic Khan had ascended to the platform, but for security, it was enclosed by yellow curtains, obscuring the people inside.

Giggles echoed through the air as the young Turkic women who had surrounded Yueya’er earlier now emerged from behind the curtain. Each appeared radiant, and some had even applied light makeup, enhancing their beauty.

Tursun's eyes widened as he surveyed the women one by one. After searching for a while and not seeing the figure he was hoping for, a hint of disappointment crossed his face. He glanced behind the curtain and loudly asked, "Tursun boldly inquires: will there be other women participating in today's selection for marriage?"

Upon hearing this, the entire assembly fell silent. The Turkic people leaned forward, concern flickering in their eyes.

A prolonged silence emanated from behind the curtain.

"Tursun boldly inquires: will there be other women participating in today's selection for marriage?" Tursun, the Right Prince of the Turks, took two bold steps toward the platform, puffed out his chest, and repeated the question loudly.

Lin Wanrong smirked in silence. It turned out that the Turkic people were not as united as they seemed. No wonder Zhao Kangning had taken the opportunity to sow discord. Tursun was blatantly pushing for a confrontation. Even though he didn't know the exact relationship between Yujia and the young Khan, or why Yujia had chosen not to participate in the marriage selection, anyone with half a brain could figure out whom to side with between the two.

The surrounding Turkic people had their mouths agape, staring intently behind the yellow veil, clearly awaiting an outcome.

After Tursun called out twice without getting a response, he was about to step forward when he heard the rustle of fabric. The yellow veil had been pulled halfway open, and a clear child's voice came out, "Right Prince, are you addressing me, the Khan?"

At last, they saw the face of the young Turkic Khan. He was a boy of about five or six, with bushy eyebrows and bright eyes, dressed in a golden robe. A curved blade hung at his waist, and he looked toward Right Prince with furrowed brows.

"This young lad, with his hearty look, actually reminds me of myself when I was his age," Old Gao mumbled to himself.

The Turkic crowd rushed to kneel and bow to the young Khan. Tursun, however, remained fearless. He shook his head and loudly asked, "Young Khan, may Tursun boldly inquire if there are any other women participating in the selection today?"

Tursun had some nerve to address the boy so directly as "Young Khan" in front of so many people. If that wasn't taking advantage of his youth, then what was? A typical treacherous official! Lin Wanrong snorted.

The young Khan, though his expression remained composed and his words careful, could not hide his youth. Under Tursun's pressing questions, he subconsciously leaned back, a trace of timidity flickering in his eyes.

A small hand reached out from behind and held onto the young Khan. At the edge of the white wrist, a hint of golden fabric peeked out, even more vivid than the young Khan's robe.

"Tursun, whom are you speaking to?" A crisp voice wafted over, clear but not rushed, echoing in the ears of everyone on the grasslands.

"It's Yujia!" Old Gao was so startled that he nearly jumped, but then quickly covered his mouth and stealthily glanced at Brother Lin. Lin Wanrong's expression remained calm and unfazed, as if he had not heard him at all.

Cheers erupted from the crowd, far more fervent than those for the young Khan. Even though they hadn't yet seen Yujia's face, countless people were already kneeling devoutly.

Tursun immediately fell to his knees, bowing far more respectfully than before. His face was calm, devoid of his earlier arrogance, yet tinged with palpable joy.

Could it be that Yujia's status was even higher than that of the young Khan? Lin Wanrong couldn't put his amazement into words. He thought back to the times they had spent together, her ever-changing expressions, and felt a vague sense of disbelief in his heart.

Thinking of An Biru's perceptive actions, he couldn't help but marvel at how sharp her judgment had been.

"Look, Yujia is coming out!" Old Gao shouted, pointing ahead in surprise.

The veil was slowly pulled back, fully exposing the stage to everyone's view.

In the center of the chamber lay a massive red carpet, upon which stood a grand and imposing Turkic throne. The seat was covered in several sheets of golden tiger skin, exuding an aura of sheer opulence and magnificence. Most curious of all, the throne was divided into two levels, the upper tier being raised by the height of an ankle compared to the lower one.

The young Khan sat on the lower tier, while the upper tier was occupied by a stunning woman. She had removed her veil, revealing skin as pristine as the snow lotus of the Tianshan Mountains and a face marked by soft angles, radiating a gentle warmth in profile. Seen from the front, her lustrous hair was neatly coiled high atop her head, adorned with a golden hat threaded with intricate filigree. Two tassels swayed delicately, embodying an air of refined nobility. Her nose was finely shaped, her lips slightly upturned in a subtle hint of a smile, a testament to her obstinate and indomitable spirit. Her eyes were as unfathomable as autumn water, their deep blackness tinged with a faint shade of blue, through which a glimmer of cold light occasionally flashed.

Her face was dusted with a light layer of gold powder, both enchanting and peculiar, shimmering brilliantly under the sunlight. Her thin eyebrows were thickened dramatically as they neared the outer corners of her eyes, sharply arching upwards like unsheathed curved blades, radiating an unquestionable chill and dignity.

Her flowing gown, golden like the sands of the steppe, extended to both sides of the throne, dazzling even brighter than the sunlight.

"Hu Bugui" mumbled in awe, "It's Yujia, it really is Yujia! She's seated higher than the young Khan!"

Yujia wore a faint smile, a golden bladed clutched in her right hand, while her left hand grasped that of the little Khan. The two slowly rose to their feet.

A collective gasp filled the air as the surrounding Turkic people surged forward like a crazed mob, shouting fervently and prostrating themselves on the green grass before the duo. The plains seemed to have become a cauldron of boiling water, surrounded by frenzied crowds and deafening cheers.

"They've gone mad, utterly mad," Old Gao muttered, shaking his head in bewilderment.

Hu Bugui stared blankly, his eyes as wide as eggs, his mouth opening and closing as if he were trying to articulate something, but words failed him.

The surrounding tumult was so loud it seemed as if one's eardrums would burst. Lin Wanrong could not understand a word of the Turkic slogans and slapped Hu Bugui on the back, shouting, "Brother Hu, what are they shouting about Yujia?"

With a face as pale as a sheet, Hu Bugui shuddered and mumbled, "Unbelievable, unbelievable. They are calling her—Great Khan!"