Peninsula: I'm being supported by a top idol.

While drinking and deliberately getting drunk, the two fell asleep without realizing it.

Memories ripple like water.

When Cui Shi'an regained consciousness, he found himself kneeling behind a low lacquered table.

She wore a scarlet round-necked, narrow-sleeved garment, and the arm guards on her elbows and the belt around her waist reflected a cold, silvery light under the lamplight.

He subconsciously looked down and saw his hands neatly placed on his knees, his knuckles clearly defined, and his palms calloused from holding a knife.

This is……

"Sir Cui?"

A hushed voice came from beside me.

Cui Shi'an turned his head and saw a face with a short beard and sharp eyes.

A name flashed through my mind.

Heochi Changji is a general who surrendered from Baekje and is currently the acting governor of the Ungjin Governor's Office.

At this moment, a faint smile played on his lips as he gestured for Cui Shi'an to look ahead.

Cui Shi'an looked up, following his gaze.

main hall.

The main hall of the Silla royal palace was more magnificent than he had imagined.

Huge wooden pillars, painted dark red, support a towering dome, which is decorated with totems of the sun, moon, stars, and a white deer.

Candlelight flickered among the bronze lamps on both sides of the corridor, illuminating the entire hall as bright as day.

The seating area stretched from the high steps below the throne all the way to the palace gate, and was filled with people.

On the left is a Tang delegation led by Heichi Changzhi, consisting of more than ten people, all dressed in official robes or light armor.

On the right are the civil and military officials and nobles of Silla. The men wear bird feather crowns and embroidered robes.

The women sat behind gauze curtains, their figures obscured, with only the occasional tinkling of their jade pendants reaching the ears.

And at the highest point—

King Kim Beop-min of Silla sat on his throne. He was about forty years old, with a sharp and clear face and narrow eyes. He wore a crown made of pure gold—not the kind of crown with tassels in the style of the Central Plains, but a gold ornament that resembled the shape of bird wings spreading upwards, which shone brightly in the candlelight.

He was raising his cup when his voice carried through the spacious hall:

"I am greatly pleased by the arrival of the acting governor. With the assistance of the superior nation, we will surely achieve victory in the next battle. The people of Jincheng will forever remember this kindness."

Heochi Sangji rose and raised his cup in return, his smile carrying the profound depth unique to the Baekje people:

"Your Majesty is too kind. The Tang Dynasty and the various vassal states are states of ruler and subject, and it is only right that they watch over and help each other."

Just polite words.

Cui Shi'an lowered his eyes, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the scabbard under the table.

It was a very long ring-pommel sword.

The scabbard was made of ordinary black leather, but the weight in his hand, that familiar feeling of being connected by blood... almost made him sigh out loud.

The banquet proceeded in a superficially harmonious atmosphere.

The musicians played the Xuanhe Qin (a type of zither), and the dancers, dressed in wide-sleeved long dresses, twirled in the hall, their skirts spreading out like lotus flowers. After several rounds of wine and five courses of food, the performance was complete.

Then, seemingly unintentionally, the King of Silla's gaze fell upon Choi Si-an.

"That young man is quite unfamiliar. The acting governor, I wonder who he is...?"

Black Tooth Changzhi put down his wine glass, his voice booming:

"Your Majesty, this is Cui Yuan, Cui Shi'an, the Sima of the Xiongjin Governor's Office. My virtuous brother Shi'an comes from a prominent family in Qinghe. He became a Qianniu Beishen at a young age and was once a halberd bearer in front of the Emperor in Chang'an."

A soft inhalation could be heard in the hall.

The position of Imperial Guard, a close bodyguard of the emperor, is only attainable by those from noble families and outstanding talents.

Hei Chi Changzhi continued, his tone carrying a hint of deliberate praise:

"Brother Shi'an is a young hero whom the Duke of Pingyang managed to recruit from the Emperor. In the Battle of Jinshan, Brother Shi'an broke through the enemy lines single-handedly, displaying unparalleled bravery. Later, he was jointly recommended by the Duke of Pingyang and the Duke of Ying, and was specially promoted to the rank of Junior Sima of the Fifth Rank, to assist in the military affairs of Xiongjin."

A glint of shrewdness flashed in Kim Beom-min's eyes, but he feigned surprise and clapped his hands, laughing:

"So you are the esteemed disciple of the Duke of Pingyang! I have long heard of your name, and seeing you today, you are indeed extraordinary!"

He paused deliberately, his gaze sweeping over Cui Yuan, then over the Silla generals at the table, and sighed softly:

"Pingyang Gong is indeed a pillar of the superior state, but judging from Cui Sima's heroic bearing, he seems to surpass his master. Alas, if Silla had such a talented young man, why would we worry about border troubles? Why would we... have to rely on the superior state for everything?"

He spoke the last half sentence very softly, yet it pierced the ears of every Silla warrior present like a needle.

"Bang!"

On the right side of the table, a Silla general slammed down his wine cup.

The man was about thirty years old, with a ruddy face, wide-open eyes, and a bird-feather crest on his head that trembled slightly with excitement.

He rose, bowed towards the throne, and spoke in a loud, clear voice:

"Your Majesty! Your subject, Jin Qintu, wishes to exchange skills with this talented scholar from the Tang Kingdom—to enhance the enjoyment of the wine!"

The hall fell silent instantly.

The music stopped, the dance ceased.

Hei Chi Changzhi raised an eyebrow but didn't speak. He simply picked up his wine cup, took a sip, and a hint of anticipation flashed in his eyes—he was originally from Baekje and had no goodwill towards Silla.

Chief Secretary Wang Jian whispered to Cui Yuan, "Shi An, be patient for now. The King of Silla is clearly instigating us."

Choi Yeon looked at the flushed faces of the Silla generals, at the resentment and defiance in their eyes, and heard Kim Beop-min's words, "We rely on the superior nation for everything," echoing in his ears.

He suddenly remembered what his teacher, Xue Rengui, had said to him in the camp before he set off:

"Shi'an, remember this—on your journey to Xiongjin, you must not abandon propriety or lose face. The Silla people respect the might of the Tang army, not benevolence and righteousness."

"Bang."

Cui Yuan gently placed the wine cup on the table.

Get up.

The arm armor rubbed together, making a crisp sound.

He walked to the center of the hall, facing the throne, and clasped his hands slightly together in front of his chest in a standard crossed-hands salute, his back straight as a pine tree.

"Your Majesty, since all the generals are willing to spar, I—am willing to oblige."

His voice was clear and resonant, neither arrogant nor humble.

Wang Jian hesitated, but Hei Chi Changzhi chuckled and said loudly, "Since it's just for fun, let's stop here."

"Stop when you've reached the point of no return?!" Jin Qin suddenly strode forward, practically pointing his finger at Cui Yuan's nose. "Commander Cui! Do you need me to give you three moves?!"

Cui Yuan looked at him and suddenly smiled.

The smile was faint, yet it made Jin Qin suddenly feel a tightness in his throat.

"General," Cui Yuan said, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, "please."

……

The courtyard outside the palace had already been cleared out, and torches were set up all around, making it as bright as day.

Jin Qintu wielded a long spear, its tip gleaming coldly in the firelight. He assumed a fighting stance, let out a low growl, and charged forward—

"Whoosh!"

The spear shot out like a dragon, piercing straight for Cui Yuan's heart!

Soft gasps could be heard from the women at the banquet.

Cui Yuan did not draw his sword.

He took half a step to the left, the tip of his spear grazing his breastplate, sending sparks flying.

The instant Jin Qin suddenly returned his gun, Cui Yuan's right hand shot out like lightning and grabbed the gun barrel.

Jin Qin suddenly tried to snatch it back, but the gun remained completely still.

Cui Yuan looked at his face, contorted with rage from exertion, and suddenly released his grip.

"Thump thump thump—" Jin Qin suddenly lost his footing and staggered back five or six steps, almost falling over.

The entire room fell silent.

"You—!" Jin Qin's face suddenly turned from red to green as he roared and charged forward again.

This time, Cui Yuan drew his sword.

"Clang—"

The sound of the ring-pommel sword being drawn was clear and melodious, like the roar of a dragon.

The blade flashed in an arc under the torchlight, not with a chop or a slash, but with the back of the blade, striking Jin Qintu's right wrist, which was holding the gun, with precision.

"Ah!" Jin Qin suddenly cried out in pain and released his grip, the spear falling to the ground.

Cui Yuan sheathed his sword, took a step back, and clasped his hands, saying, "You flatter me."

From start to finish, it took less than ten breaths.

Jin Qin suddenly stood there, clutching his swollen wrist, his face ashen.

"I'll do it!"

Another Silla general leaped into the arena, wielding twin swords.

In just five moves, the knife was knocked away.

"Let's try it!"

The burly man wielding the great axe roared as he charged forward.

In the third strike, the axe handle was severed.

One, two, three...

Cui Yuan remained standing in the center of the field, never moving more than three steps.

His swordsmanship was simple, almost brutal, without any fancy moves. Every parry and every counterattack was precisely aimed at the opponent's weakest points: wrist, elbow, and knee.

The five-foot-long ring-pommel sword seemed to come alive in his hands, its blade flashing like a waterfall at times and like fine snow at others, weaving an impenetrable net in the firelight.

When the twelfth Silla general retreated dejectedly, clutching his aching and numb arm, the entire courtyard was completely silent; you could hear a pin drop.

An unspeakable sense of oppression and humiliation permeated the Silla side of the banquet.

Just then, a steady, mountain-like footstep sounded.

Everyone looked over and saw the elderly man with white hair and beard, who had been resting with his eyes closed, slowly stand up.

He wasn't particularly tall, but every move he made exuded the majesty of someone who had been through countless battles and commanded thousands of troops.

It was none other than the great strategist of Silla, the god of war—Kim Yu-sin.