Ji Qingwu tagged along like a little shadow, following him all the way to the entrance of the campaign tent.
Zhao Mingyan stroked the soft hair at the nape of her neck. "I wish I could just tuck you away and take you with me, Ah Wu."
Ji Qingwu looked hesitant, but a flicker of anticipation crossed her face as she asked, "Really? Could I?"
'I may not be a great warrior, but I fancy myself a decent strategist,' she thought. 'I really do want to go.'
Seeing that Emperor Wu Su had reached the entrance, Li Yuzong bowed and lifted the tent flap.
Outside, the cold wind howled, whipping up sand and dust that pattered against the canvas of the tent.
Ji Qingwu squinted against the wind. The open ground outside was filled with soldiers, and a jet-black warhorse stood waiting before the tent.
Zhao Mingyan turned back. "I know you're capable, Ah Wu, but things haven't reached the point where I need you to step in."
The light in Ji Qingwu's eyes dimmed.
