> "Right now, they're more afraid of me going hungry than of me dying."
— Lin Zhou
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[1] Morning After the Battle
Frostmoon Camp, the campfires still smoldered.
Hanshuang stood at the gate, watching the three armies retreat into the distance. Her voice was cold:
> "They won't last a few days before coming back."
Lin Zhou emerged from the tent yawning, Xiao Li still draped over his shoulder, not yet awake, a trace of grease at the corner of its mouth.
"I had a dream—someone brought me a mountain of roast chicken…" Lin Zhou rubbed his eyes.
Hanshuang gave him a sidelong glance. "Get ready. That dream may come true soon."
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[2] The First Wave of 'Apologies'
By noon, Crown Prince Chiyan's men arrived.
They carried no blades, only dozens of food boxes—fragrant enough to make mouths water.
At their head was not a soldier, but a round-bellied imperial chef with a belt of copper spice bottles that jingled with every step; strapped to his back was a long copper pipe venting hot steam, as if it could spray fragrant mist at any moment.
The Crown Prince himself presented a plate of golden roast chicken. "Brother Zhou, I'm not here to take you—this time I want you to taste the skill of the Chiyan Army's chefs."
Lin Zhou glanced at Hanshuang, then cautiously reached out. "Then I'll just—"
Hanshuang tilted her chin. "Try a bite first."
Lin Zhou took a piece, and the aroma nearly brought tears to his eyes as he bit down. "So good I'm thinking of quitting scavenging work."
Xiao Li grabbed a chicken leg. "Brother, I think we could change careers."
The chef beamed. "If Young Master Zhou likes it, tomorrow I'll bring an entire chicken farm over."
Hanshuang arched an eyebrow. "…A chicken farm?"
The chef was completely serious. "The place where I raise all my chickens."
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[3] The Second Wave of 'Courting'
By evening, Honglei's people arrived.
She came with a cartload of red wine, decorated with bunches of crimson feathers, smoke curling in the air.
From the mist emerged twelve dancing girls, long silk sleeves drifting with the wind, each step chiming with bells. Even the Frostmoon Camp soldiers forgot their guard, turning into an audience; for a while, the camp felt like a victory celebration.
"Zhou Zhou, you were frightened last night—this is all to calm your nerves." Honglei approached, her eyes carrying a warning toward Hanshuang.
Hanshuang's face was blank. "He doesn't drink."
Lin Zhou quickly waved his hands. "I don't, I only drink tea."
Honglei smiled softly. "Then drink tea I brew."
Before Lin Zhou could refuse, Xiao Li was already squatting beside a wine jar, rolling in delight at the smell. "Brother, it's sweet!"
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[4] The Third Wave of 'Bestowals'
Late at night, the Dragon Clan Saint Son arrived directly—riding atop his silver dragon war beast, its wings slicing open the night sky.
He tossed down a pendant carved from dragon teeth, his voice rumbling: "Lin Zhou, this is my clan's protective charm. Wear it, and the Dragon Clan will guard you for life."
The war beast lowered its massive head, a blast of hot breath ruffling Lin Zhou's hair as if examining its "new disciple."
Lin Zhou hurried to decline. "No, no, I'm doing fine as I am…"
Hanshuang suddenly took the pendant and put it around his neck. "If it's for protection, keep it."
The Saint Son nodded in satisfaction. "Good. From now on, he is the Saint Son of my clan."
Lin Zhou gaped. "When… did I join your clan?"
Xiao Li said solemnly, "Brother, this is called forced membership."
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[5] Hanshuang's Calculations
After all three groups left, Lin Zhou sat by the campfire, gifts piled in front of him.
Hanshuang's voice was cold. "Keep them. A favor owed is harder to repay than money."
Lin Zhou: "So you're planning—"
Hanshuang: "To drag it out."
She turned to leave, adding over her shoulder, "Drag it until they've drained themselves dry—then we settle accounts."
Xiao Li squinted in amusement. "Brother, I think Sister Hanshuang is even better at fleecing than you."
Lin Zhou sighed. "I'm afraid if this goes on, one day I'll be the sheep."