Meanwhile, thousands of miles away, on the banks of the Mir River, the midsummer sun generously showered the rich lands.
Liu Qian's army was like an efficient harvesting machine, and after pulling out the last stubborn nail of the highland fortress, it swept across the south bank of the Mill River with a devastating momentum.
The slave guards hastily assembled by the Mir people had already collapsed in morale and had no fighting spirit after seeing Liu Qian's army pull out the highland fortress and attack the hinterland of Mir.
Even if they tried to resist on the open field, relying on rivers and hastily built rudimentary rammed earth fortifications, they were like paper paste in front of Liu Qian's army and wildfires.
In less than a month, the vast and rich land on the south bank of the Mill River fell into Liu Qian's hands.
When he counted the wealth of the Mir people, he found that the spoils of war were far more abundant than expected.
Liu Qian is now in a fully accepted luxury manor in Mill River Bay.
This was once the palace of a certain Mir noble to escape the summer, and the building is a fusion of Mil's unique sophistication, with white stone columns surrounding the central fountain and exotic flowers and plants from all over the world planted in the courtyard.
He sat on a terrace bench carved from a single piece of rosewood, playing with a spoils of war that had just been taken out of the manor's workshop, a piece of millace.
This lace is one of the brightest jewels in the crown of Mill's handicraft industry.
Thin as a cicada's wings and as light as smoke, it is woven from the finest lamb wool thread using an ancient technique that has been almost lost.
The pattern is intricate to the extreme, and the fine mesh is interspersed with miniature flowers and vines outlined with finer silver threads, shimmering with a pearl-like sheen in the sun and incredibly smooth to the touch.
This kind of lace is the luxurious embellishment that all the ladies of Westeros and Essos dream of, and even some bold courtesans use it as the main material of their garments, showing off their charm in the looming.
Liu Qian's slender fingers gently twisted the priceless fabric, and smiled at the corners of his mouth.
He thought of Linis Hightower, the hightower pearl hidden in his golden house.
This dreamlike lace, wrapped around her snow-white body, must be a thrilling sight.
The great cause of conquest and the tenderness of beauty are intertwined into a cup of mellow and delicious summer sweet red in his heart at this moment, which fascinates him.
At this moment, a light but hintful footsteps came.
Chai Yi's figure appeared by the arch of the terrace.
She changed into a military uniform and wore a well-tailored light blue silk civilian clothes, which made her posture more and more upright and elegant.
Her eyes first fell on Liu Qian, and then turned to the pure white lace in his hand.
Chai Yi's cheeks imperceptibly floated with a faint blush, and he quickly looked away.
Since Miss Linnis of the Hightower family came to the front line and her residence was arranged in a villa very close to His Majesty's bedroom, Chai Yi, who was as delicate as a child, was keenly aware of the unusual intimacy between the two.
Today's Majesty is so young and so powerful.
There was no official queen by his side.
In the ancient tradition of Yidi, the great Heavenly Emperor had a hundred wives and shared glory.
What about Your Majesty?
A bold idea came to mind uncontrollably.
If he could become one of his wives, he might be able to use this supreme power to restore the Yellow Dynasty and make their children the emperor of Yidi.
This thought made her heart beat slightly, and the temperature of her cheeks seemed to rise a little more.
She quickly suppressed these thoughts, forced herself to bring her attention back to business, lowered her head slightly, and her voice was usually a little tighter:
"Your Majesty, the reception of the manor and the inventory of the property have been initially completed, the workshop craftsmen are stable, and no one resists, when will we march into Mill City?"
Liu Qian didn't know the complicated thoughts in Chai Yi's heart at all, he looked at Chai Yi and said:
"Order the whole army to rest here for three days, count supplies, prepare equipment, and after three days, we will cross the river and march into Mir City!"
Chai Yi straightened his back and replied solemnly: "Obey orders, Your Majesty! "
King's Landing, the first military conference camp.
The air was filled with the burnt aroma of barbecue, the smell of horse sweat, and the heat wave of the crowd.
Colorful tents surrounded the arena like mushrooms after rain, the knights' polished armor reflected the dazzling light in the sun, the attendants were busy running, and the skirts of the ladies fluttered lightly in the breeze.
Under this festive hustle and bustle, an undercurrent surges.
Ranley Baratheon's tent is undoubtedly one of the most luxurious in the camp.
The stag flag of Baratheon fluttered on the top of the tent, which was covered with a thick carpet of mills, and low tables were filled with fresh fruit, roasted peacocks, honey-drizzled almond cakes, and fine golden wine from Qingting Island.
Lan Li himself, dressed in a perfectly tailored silver-gray velvet coat with a blooming golden rose pinned to his neckline, was chatting and laughing with a few young knights from the Stormlands and the River Bend, and his handsome face was filled with a relaxed and cheerful smile, as if the troubles of the world had nothing to do with him.
A squire bowed his head respectfully and came in: "My lord, Lord Petyr Belisi asks to see you." "
Lan Li's smile was slightly restrained, and a hint of imperceptible prudence flashed in his eyes.
Pinky finger?
What is he doing at this point in time?
He waved his hand to let the knights retreat: "Please come in, Lord Belisier." "
Petyr Berisi came in like a slippery eel, his gray-green eyes swiftly scanning the empty tent, his shrewd smile piled up on his face.
"Lord Lan Li, good day, your tent is really the most pleasant oasis in the competition, and even the air has the fragrance of golden roses."
He was slightly bowing and moving gracefully.
Lan Li motioned for him to sit down, poured him a glass of wine with his own hands, his tone relaxed, but his eyes were sharp: "Petyr, what wind blew you to my 'oasis'?" Do you think the golden dragon you lost to me this morning is not enough? Or is there any interesting news to share? "
The little finger took the wine glass, and the fingertips gently rubbed the rim of the glass, and the smile deepened.
He paused, his voice lowered: "There are indeed some very personal thoughts about the Prime Minister, and I think you need to know. "
Lan Li's body leaned forward slightly, and the relaxed smile on his face faded, replaced by a hint of vigilance: "About Ed Stark?
What ideas can he have that you should come to tell me? "
The little finger took a sip of wine, as if savoring and organizing the language.
"Lord Lanley, Master Edd suspects—no, he almost believes that you murdered Duke Jon Arryn."
"What?!"
The glass in Lan Li's hand shook suddenly, and a few drops of golden wine splashed on the expensive mill carpet.