FID – Chapter 647

Chapter 647: Making Full Use of Resources

The diplomats arrived with the purpose of negotiating between the two countries.

After checking into the inn, everyone waited eagerly for the negotiations to begin, awaiting the moment they would step up to the negotiation table.

However, the key figure from the other side of the negotiations was calm and unhurried. Even after the time for the negotiations had been set and everything was ready, he did not show up.

Today was no different.

The representatives from both countries were already seated in the Hall of Supreme Harmony.

They only needed the other party to arrive to begin presenting their terms and engage in discussion.

But after waiting for a while, the Beicang representative, Prince Ting, still hadn’t appeared. It wasn’t until half an hour past the scheduled time that someone came with news.

Prince Ting had gone on a trip to Hongfeng Mountain and wouldn’t be able to make it back in time. He apologized for the delay and suggested that the meeting be adjourned for the time being, to be continued at a later date.

Back at the Qiande Palace, Feng Mohan was so angry that he immediately smashed a cup.

Feng Mohan furiously exclaimed, “What exactly does that Prince Ting want? This is already the third time! Three times, and he still hasn’t shown up! Just because he’s disabled, does he think he’s so special? Sitting in a wheelchair, unable to walk, yet making everyone wait for him. If he knows he can’t walk, why is he wandering around everywhere? Is he afraid others won’t notice he’s crippled?”

After venting his anger, he gradually calmed down and turned to look at the man sitting by the window, completely unruffled. “Imperial Uncle, what do you think he’s trying to do? If he came for negotiations, why keep delaying as if he doesn’t care about the outcome at all?”

“If he has come, then whether it’s today or tomorrow, the negotiations will happen eventually. So why be so anxious? In diplomatic negotiations, psychological resilience is crucial. The one who loses patience first will be at a disadvantage and in a weaker position.”

“Imperial Uncle, are you saying that Prince Ting is doing this on purpose? That he keeps standing everyone up just to provoke our negotiators?”

“Aren’t you already burning with anger?”

Feng Mohan cleared his throat, inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to calm himself down as quickly as possible. “Then how should we respond? He keeps missing the meetings—should we even bother setting a new negotiation date? If we schedule it and he doesn’t show up again, won’t it all be for nothing?”

Feng Qingbai gazed out the window, his eyes deep and unreadable. His fingers tapped lightly on his knee as he spoke. “For now, there’s no need. Prince Ting is playing this little game, but we’re not the only ones getting impatient—so are the rest of Beicang’s envoys. We just need to watch quietly from the sidelines and take no action. Sooner or later, someone will pressure him.”

“If we don’t set a date, who knows when the next round of negotiations will actually happen? It could be years before they’re willing to sit down and talk.”

“This is our land. They are guests. If they’re in no hurry to return, why should we be anxious for them? When they truly want to negotiate, they’ll come to us.”

Feng Mohan nodded in agreement. Since his uncle had said so, there was no need to worry. He might as well treat the delegation as mere sightseers.

A ruler must be neither impulsive nor impatient.

On the mountain path of Hongfeng Mountain in the outskirts of the city—

A palanquin, carried by four bearers, swayed gently along the trail. Inside, a young noble in flowing white robes sat leisurely, enjoying the scenery with ease.

Two maidservants followed closely behind, their cheeks glistening with sweat.

Hongfeng Mountain wasn’t particularly high, but for someone with limited mobility, it could have been a challenge. Of course, in Prince Ting’s eyes, such a challenge didn’t exist.

He didn’t need to walk. Others would do the work for him.

It was just a matter of spending some silver.

The palanquin stopped beside a pavilion halfway up the mountain.

With a light clap of his hands, the man in white gracefully leaped out of the palanquin. His robes billowed in the breeze as he landed effortlessly inside the pavilion.

From this vantage point, he overlooked the breathtaking scenery below.

It was nearing September. The mountain’s maple leaves were a mix of gold and crimson, interwoven in a dazzling display. 

Since the leaves had yet to fully turn red, there were few visitors on the mountain—only the occasional traveler passing by, casting curious glances at the nobleman and his unconventional way of sightseeing.

“Young Master, the people down there should have dispersed by now. Shall we return?” One of the maids spoke, referring, of course, to the negotiation parties.

Duan Ting smiled. “Since they’ve already left, there’s no point in rushing back now. We might as well take the time to enjoy the view.”

The maid bit her lip. Though she feared the young master’s temper, she couldn’t help but offer a reminder. “Young Master, you’ve already missed the meeting three times. I’m afraid this will provoke dissatisfaction from both sides.”

Never mind the Nanling officials— even their own Beicang delegation, though led by the young master, had ministers tasked with an important mission. They wouldn’t tolerate him repeatedly breaking promises and jeopardizing the peace talks.

The man, however, remained completely indifferent. “Since we’ve come out to enjoy ourselves, we should relax and make the most of it. Even if they’re displeased, what can they do about it?”

“If word of this reaches home, someone will surely report you. What will you do then?”

“Report me for what? It’s not like I refuse to negotiate. We’ll just talk a little later, that’s all. My legs don’t work—I couldn’t make it back in time even if I wanted to, could I?”

The maid was left speechless by his shameless reasoning.

Even after serving him for years, they still struggled to grasp his true thoughts.

He always acted on impulse, following his whims, making it hard for anyone to keep up.

As the sun set behind the western mountains, the sky was painted with fiery red clouds.

Feng Qingbai had only just stepped out of the imperial study when he saw the man sitting in a wheelchair, his back to the setting sun, offering him a faint smile.

The afterglow of the sunset bathed his white robes in a layer of purple-gold, casting him in a gentle halo of light.

They chose a lakeside pavilion near the imperial garden, sitting across from each other.

“This king envies your leisurely spirit, Prince Ting,” Feng Qingbai remarked.

“If King Nanling wishes for it, do you lack this bit of leisure?” the man replied.

With the surrounding attendants dismissed, Feng Qingbai looked at the man across from him, his smile faint.

“The Fourteenth Prince of Beicang, Prince Ting, is the youngest among the royal sons. In his youth, he was mediocre. After his physical limitations, he suddenly revealed unparalleled brilliance, claiming a place within the royal family despite his condition. But as far as I know, although the Emperor of Beicang values talent, he would never make an unconditional compromise. The peace talks between the North and South have been interrupted three times. If there is another delay, no matter how favored Prince Ting is, you won’t be able to withstand the Emperor’s wrath.”

“Anger may come, but as long as I remain useful, my father won’t let me be buried in the imperial tombs just yet. One is born to serve a purpose,” Prince Ting replied with a faint smile.

“Then I shall wait for the day when you exhaust the patience of the Emperor of Beicang,” Feng Qingbai retorted, his tone measured.

“There’s no need to wait any longer. Set a time, the day after tomorrow, let’s have the talks then,” Prince Ting said, turning his gaze to the reddish glow in the sky. 

After a moment, he continued, “This mission was originally supposed to be led by my sixth brother, but the night before departure, he accidentally fell off a horse, so I had to step in. I’ve long been curious about Nanling, especially after hearing rumors in the military about a deputy lieutenant who had fallen seriously ill and was expected to die. 

Yet, after retiring, someone in the capital managed to cure him, and he returned to the battlefield. I became even more intrigued. Is there truly some kind of miraculous cure in this world? Later, I had people inquire about it. Do you want to guess what I found out?”

Feng Qingbai didn’t respond, his eyes dark and unreadable.

Prince Ting seemed indifferent to the lack of response. “What’s so remarkable about turning decay into something extraordinary? That person could even come back from the brink of death. With such miraculous medical skills, do you think my legs have any hope of being healed? … It’s in Xinghua Village, right? In Xiangshan, Yunzhou?”

The pavilion fell silent.

Then, a faint smile curled on Feng Qingbai’s lips. In an instant, his hand shot out toward him with a swift motion, his fingers like hooks aiming directly at him.