Chapter Seventy-Two: Old Friends

The young soldier’s words, though self-deprecating, were nothing but the truth. Had the man standing before him not been Shen Hezhi, his life would likely have ended for uttering them—the life of a mere soldier was worth nothing in the eyes of these powerful men.

“What nonsense are you spouting here? Qi Mo, have you had too much to drink?” The sergeant, seeing how far things had gone, knew he could not simply blame the soldier. He tried to attribute Qi Mo’s words to drunkenness, but the young soldier was not about to play along.

“Drunkenness is just your excuse. I haven’t been drinking; I don’t even know how to drink. So don’t go making up reasons for me. I just can’t stand what you people are doing—so what? If you want, just kill me now. I won’t flatter you useless officials. My true worth is on the battlefield, not here currying favor with you!” Qi Mo spoke with righteous indignation, and when he finished, he turned his head away in disdain.

Shen Yi moved as if to seize Qi Mo, for his attitude toward the prince was truly outrageous. But Shen Hezhi waved him back and stepped forward himself.

The sergeant wanted to stop the prince from approaching Qi Mo, but Shen Yi, with keen perception, blocked his way. How could a mere sergeant stand between their prince and his intentions?

Shen Hezhi stood before Qi Mo, who still didn’t budge. With a blade of grass between his lips and contempt in his eyes, he said, “Even if you stand in front of me, I won’t be afraid. Go ahead, kill me if you dare.”

Qi Mo paused, then spoke with even more anger: “It’s not as if you people care about killing—no one would arrest you for it. And if I can’t go to the battlefield and fight, you might as well kill me.”

“And what if I send you to the battlefield to fight?” Shen Hezhi replied.

His words stunned Qi Mo and, for the first time, he regarded the man before him seriously. “Are you speaking the truth?”

“I haven’t introduced myself yet,” Shen Hezhi said with a faint smile. “I am Shen Hezhi, the Ninth Prince, the least favored prince in all the capital. Do you understand now?” He introduced himself plainly, even poking fun at his own standing.

Qi Mo, hearing this, was only momentarily surprised before laughing dismissively again. “Just a prince no one cares for, tricked into coming to die at the frontier—what’s so impressive about that? Unless you’re—wait, the Ninth Prince? You’re the Ninth Prince?!”

Qi Mo suddenly leapt up in shock, his eyes alight with excitement as he gazed at Shen Hezhi. “You’re really the Ninth Prince, aren’t you?!”

Now it was Shen Hezhi’s turn to be puzzled. A moment ago, Qi Mo hadn’t cared for him at all, but now he looked as if he’d met a legendary hero. Shen Hezhi searched his memory for anything in his past at the capital that might inspire such admiration but could think of nothing.

“Yes, I am,” Shen Hezhi finally answered.

With this confirmation, Qi Mo grew even more excited. “I—my name is Qi Mo! Don’t you remember me?!”

Shen Hezhi looked back at Shen Yi, who appeared equally perplexed. He turned back to Qi Mo with an apologetic expression. “I’m afraid I don’t recall you at all, nor have I ever heard your name. Could you be mistaking me for someone else?”

Qi Mo glanced at the sergeant behind Shen Hezhi, his eyes flickering. He waved Shen Hezhi over. “Your Highness, come here.”

Shen Hezhi hesitated, wary that this might be an assassination attempt. But the thought passed quickly—who would want to assassinate him besides the one in the imperial palace? No one else bore him such deep hatred.

He stepped closer, and Qi Mo lowered his voice at his ear.

Both the sergeant and Shen Yi watched curiously, eager to know what was being said, but they dared not move with Shen Hezhi standing there.

“Your Highness, I used to be called Qi Lianshan. I changed my name to Qi Mo. Does the name Qi Lianshan ring any bells for you?” Qi Mo whispered.

At the sound of that name, Shen Hezhi’s face showed astonishment. Qi Mo saw the reaction and knew he’d been recognized.

Shen Hezhi stared at him, tongue-tied for a moment. Qi Lianshan was someone he’d known long ago, when both were children. Back then, Shen Hezhi had nearly died saving Qi Lianshan; the fatal wound he bore was a result of that rescue.

Qi Mo had always felt deeply guilty for this. Later, seeking to repay the debt, Qi Lianshan had taken a sword meant for Shen Hezhi during an assassination attempt, and the blade was poisoned. His lips had turned black almost immediately. Shen Hezhi wanted to save him, but they were fleeing for their lives and had no time. Besides, the symptoms were clear—Qi Lianshan had been fatally poisoned.

After falling from his horse, Qi Lianshan used his last breath to urge Shen Hezhi to flee. Shen Hezhi, torn by guilt, left for the sake of his future. It was a knot in his heart that he’d never untied, and he always regretted abandoning him.

He’d thought Qi Lianshan was long dead, yet here he was, alive before him.

“Is… what you’re saying true?” Shen Hezhi questioned in disbelief.

After all, the man before him looked nothing like the boy in his memories. People changed as they grew, but this was a transformation beyond recognition.

At this, Qi Mo hesitated, then sighed. “It’s all true. The matter is complicated, and not easily explained in a few words.”

He paused, then added, “If you’re the one leading at the frontier, I believe in you. You can defeat the Southern Yan Kingdom!”

His eyes were filled with trust.

“Very well. I won’t disappoint your expectations.” Shen Hezhi laughed and slapped Qi Mo on the shoulder before returning to Shen Yi’s side.

He said to the sergeant, “There are still things I wish to ask this man. I’ll take him with me shortly.”

The sergeant nodded eagerly, but Shen Hezhi wasn’t finished. “But you have a serious problem here. You owe me a thorough explanation for this mess and for your laziness.”