Chapter 67 Made Me Bleed

“My grandfather is Shi Zhenxiang himself.”

“No wonder the stench is so overwhelming. Upwind, it reeks for ten li; downwind, the odor carries for a thousand. It could kill a man.”

“How dare you insult me? I’ll beat you to a pulp!”

“Don’t boast so much! The cattle on the grasslands have all dropped dead from your bragging. Just try and lay a hand on me.”

“Try? Fine, let's try.” Shi Zhenxiang launched a headbutt, landing it solidly on the Grand Marshal’s swollen, red nose.

The Grand Marshal’s nose stung with pain, eyes brimming with tears, and blood began to trickle from his nostrils.

“Bah!” The Grand Marshal of Changli Kingdom, more skilled with flowery words than with fists, had no talent for brawling. Enraged, he spat a mouthful of blood straight into Shi Zhenxiang’s face.

Shi Zhenxiang recoiled in disgust and wiped his face with his sleeve.

“Thud.” Shi Zhenxiang delivered another headbutt.

“Argh!” the Grand Marshal howled, clutching his eye.

“What’s going on here? What’s happening?” Quan Dounan, hesitating between kneeling or not, was relieved to find a distraction from his awkward predicament.

“Your Majesty, this man struck me and made me bleed. I beg Your Majesty to uphold justice,” the Grand Marshal complained, covering his eye.

“Divine Lord, he spat on me, all over my face,” Shi Zhenxiang retorted, making no pretense of respect for the emperor, and took his grievance straight to the god.

Lu Hu was enjoying the boot-kissing ceremony, idly wondering if he’d ever had athlete’s foot in this life or the last—if any rumors of unpleasant odors spread, it would be a disaster…

He hadn’t expected a fight to break out over a simple gesture of homage.

With everyone related by blood or marriage, it was awkward to intervene or settle the dispute. He decided to feign ignorance and let the matter cool.

If my minister ends up battered like this, whose backing do you have?

Quan Dounan dared not provoke Shi Zhenxiang, so he scolded the Grand Marshal instead. “You’re growing more foolish in your old age. A dignified minister, bickering like an old peasant woman—how can you face your many subordinates?”

Wasn’t this just a thinly veiled rebuke? Shi Zhenxiang flushed scarlet, lowered his head, and obediently took his place in line.

Lu Hu had intended to treat Shi Zhenxiang differently, perhaps pulling him up before he could kiss the boot, letting a kiss to the hand suffice. After all, since he was to be made king, there should be some visible distinction to establish his authority—making things easier for himself in the future.

But Shi Zhenxiang’s display had put Lu Hu on guard. If he dared to cause trouble in front of him now, then when he had power and men at his command, would he still obey, or might he one day rebel?

He must quash this arrogance…

When it was Shi Zhenxiang’s turn, Lu Hu watched coldly as he performed the ceremony. Unlike with the other generals, he offered no encouragement, no pat on the shoulder. He let Shi Zhenxiang rise and return to his seat unaided.

His actions made it clear: If I can raise you up, I can trample you down.

Shi Zhenxiang felt a chill and sobered instantly. Although he was King Zhenxiang, in the eyes of the god he was less than nothing. He’d better be careful in the future…

Now, only Quan Dounan, his wife, and Quan Zhenzhu had yet to kneel and kiss the boot.

In everyone’s eyes, Quan Zhenzhu was akin to an empress. Boot-kissing was out of the question; she’d be lucky if the god didn’t demand it of her. What was an empress to the god anyway? If she refused him in bed, he’d still have to endure it.

But her father was no different—he didn’t share the same privileges, and couldn’t always be at the god’s side. Would he kneel today? Would he kiss the god’s boot?

The officers watched eagerly, waiting for Quan Dounan to make his move.

Quan Dounan scratched his head in distress, torn between kneeling and standing his ground.

Little Guanyin was quicker than the rest, gracefully stepping forward and making a show of kneeling before Lu Hu.

There was no way he’d let his mother-in-law kneel and kiss his boot. Lu Hu reached out to support her. Taking the opportunity, Little Guanyin grasped his hand and kissed the back of it, thus completing the ceremony.

Enlightened, Lu Hu thought, My wife is truly clever…

The emperor followed suit, preserving the dignity of the ruler of Changli Kingdom.

The generals all understood now: Changli Kingdom’s relationship with the god was closest. King Zhenxiang was far behind; the god seemed dissatisfied with him.

With the god’s protection, Changli Kingdom’s future looked limitless.

As soon as Quan Dounan and Little Guanyin took their seats, the centurions opposite shot them ingratiating looks in unison.

If the leg is sturdy, hug it tight; if it’s crippled, find a chance to let go.

For years, the ministers and generals of Changli Kingdom had endured humiliation in silence. Now, at last, they could straighten their backs, pride shining in their eyes.

They hadn’t been top dogs for many years, but now that feeling was returning.

Only the Grand Marshal’s spirits had yet to recover; the bruised left eye and swollen socket showed the price of his beating.

Everyone who looked at him struggled to suppress their laughter.

Ma Lihong and Zhu Xiaoying led the Changli maidservants in serving the dishes.

A fragrant aroma filled the great tent.

“Brother, you’re not angry with Sister, are you?” Quan Zhenzhu leaned over in her seat, pressing close to Lu Hu and whispering.

“Your sister is my sister—why would I be angry with her? Besides, I wouldn’t dare be angry with her, just as I could never be angry with you,” Lu Hu replied, his words layered with meaning.

Quan Zhenzhu didn’t take it to heart, but sighed pitifully. “I don’t know why Sister is so upset. Where could she be now? Is she hungry?”

As she spoke, tears rolled down her cheeks. “If Sister won’t eat, then I won’t either. I’m going to find her.”

Lu Hu, ignoring the stares of those at the table, drew her into his arms. “There you go again, throwing a tantrum. Your sister’s gone, and if you go too, how can we eat?”

“Why not? Even if we’re both gone, you can all still eat, can’t you?” Quan Zhenzhu pouted, giving Lu Hu a playful punch in the chest.

This display of affection made everyone at the table avert their eyes, pretending not to notice.

When the divine lord and lady flirt, even if you’re the third wheel, you must pretend you’re not.

A platter of tender lamb braised with ginseng and goji berries was placed before Lu Hu, its aroma mouthwatering.

The plate was handed to him from behind on his left, but Lu Hu, distracted by his whispered exchange with Quan Zhenzhu, didn’t pay it much mind as the maidservants bustled back and forth, serving the food.

Every serving maid was graceful and comely, drawing the eyes of the men.

The more lecherous among them couldn’t help but follow the women’s movements with their gaze.

It was only natural: like repels like, opposites attract.

But that was just the hungry look of ordinary men. As a revered god, Lu Hu couldn’t behave like those lecherous fools, sneaking glances at every passing beauty.

Besides, with Quan Zhenzhu by his side—lovelier than any blossom—why would he care for common weeds?

Yet in that instant, the lively tent suddenly fell silent.

Just moments before, the tent had been filled with lively chatter—idle gossip, stories from near and far, family affairs and homely talk. Now, abruptly, all was hushed.

Everyone was staring, eyes wide with astonishment, at something behind Lu Hu.