He tricked his amnesiac partner into becoming crippled.

Chapter 231 The Marquis Has No Clever Heart 8

Wen Yan smiled but remained silent. It felt as if a feather was gently tickling her throat; she coughed uncontrollably, and after a moment, she spoke softly:

"If Your Excellency truly wishes to thank me, please find me a doctor."

From then on, Liang Jinglan had another goal besides winning battles: to find a renowned doctor to treat his strategist.

Maodun was not released, but he was granted the privilege of communicating with Beiyuan, although the letters had to pass through the hands of Wen Yan and a few others before they could be sent out.

Sometimes, if Wen Yan saw something inappropriate, she would pick up her pen and correct it directly. After the ink dried, she would tie the pen to a goose's leg and send it out. There was no need to worry about Bei Yuan being suspicious, because even her handwriting was exactly the same.

This is what makes Wen Yan so amazing. Despite not having worked for many years, she seems to know everything. Sometimes, her husband even wonders what kind of thing grows on her neck to make her so smart.

The weather in Xuguan was getting colder and colder. A message came from above, ordering the group to return to the capital. Liang Jinglan used the war as an excuse to delay, but the higher-ups said that the battle could be fought even with one less person, and that Wen Yan or the teacher should return to the capital.

In short, the message is the same: you have to go back to Beijing; the higher-ups don't want the three of you to stay together.

Reading the implication, Wen Yan turned her gaze to the gentleman: "Sir, who do you think will return from the capital?"

"I think you're capable," the teacher said calmly.

He had a good plan. This way, he could not only separate Wen Yan from Liang Jinglan, but also allow her to return to Beijing to recuperate, since Wen Yan's health was not very good.

Wen Yan didn't even frown, and analyzed:

"You are far more familiar with the court than I am. You know which officials belong to which faction, and which are treacherous and difficult to deal with. If I were to drag my ailing body into a battle of wits with these old foxes, would I die first or die first?"

The gentleman hesitated.

Don't ruin Wenyan.

Wen Yan's smile didn't fade; she continued talking about many things, such as the defense of Xuguan Pass and communication with the Xiongnu...

"My disciple has recently made progress on a crop that can yield high yields on the border. The Marquis cannot do without me."

The words "Lord Marquis" were pronounced with exceptional clarity, so much so that the gentleman couldn't ignore them even if he wanted to.

Wen Yan's eyes were deep and unfathomable, her fair fingertips hovering lightly over the center of the map: "Rather than handing him over to someone else, you should hand him over to me. I can protect him for the rest of his life."

The gentleman remained silent.

He tried to persuade her and felt helpless, but he couldn't pull Wen Yan back no matter how hard he tried. So he decided to give up.

But he couldn't let things fall apart completely, so he dodged the question, saying, "You'll have to ask the Marquis about that."

Liang Jinglan, shirtless, stood with one foot on a military chair, wiping the bow. The black bow gleamed black after being wiped with the cloth.

He looked up and saw two pairs of eyes staring intently at him, one pair eager and the other serene. He blinked, puzzled, and asked, "What's wrong?"

Wen Yan smiled faintly: "There is something that needs your decision, Lord Marquis."

“I’ll listen to Brother Yuanjun,” he answered quickly.

Although his brother Yuanjun and uncle didn't hide anything from him, he simply couldn't understand the unspoken communication between them.

After a moment of silence, the man gave in: "Alright, alright, can I go back to the capital?"

Wen Yan nodded, very satisfied with the result.

When winter arrived in Xuguan, the gentleman had already packed his things and was preparing to go to the capital.

Before parting, he looked at Wen Yan, who had a faint smile, and then at Liang Jinglan, whose eyes were red and filled with reluctance. He wanted to say something, but in the end, he stopped himself from speaking.

He patted his nephew's broad shoulder. His nephew was now a head taller than him and was no longer the little boy who used to follow him closely when he was a child.

"Jinglan, your uncle is gone. You must listen to Yuanjun's words, stay calm in the face of things, and ask your brother Yuanjun if you don't understand something."

The gentleman was reluctant to leave. Although he really wanted to go to the capital to fight, the thought of parting won out.

Finally, with a heavy heart, he lowered the curtain and headed south.

He didn't want his nephew to be trapped in Xuguan for the rest of his life, or even if he returned to the capital, he would only become a victim of factional struggles.

Yuanjun is right. Rather than hiding to save your life, it's better to take control of your own destiny.

The fine sand of the border region stung their eyes, and the horse tracks kicked up swirling clouds of dust. The gentleman waved for the two to return.

Liang Jinglan felt a pang of sadness; her eyes were still red, like a large, abandoned dog.

A man doesn't easily shed tears, so he tried hard to hold them back. The cold wind blew away the warmth in his eyes, and his face became even colder.

Wen Yan sighed and gave him a comforting hug.

A look of surprise flashed across Liang Jinglan's eyes, and he heard Wen Yan's gentle voice in his ear: "My lord, don't be sad. Give me a year, and I will take you back to the capital in a grand and glorious manner."

She was making him a promise, a formal promise.

Wen Yan's eyes were filled with an intense darkness, and she patted his back again and again. The faint scent of medicine wafted into his nose, prompting Liang Jinglan, who had originally intended to back away, to silently lower his head, let his hands fall, and unconsciously rest his head against her neck.

I feel inexplicably at ease.

This was a boon for Wen Yan. She raised an eyebrow slightly and continued to pat his back slowly.

Liang Jinglan's breathing was shallow, like a big, ruffled dog soaked by the rain, wanting nothing more than to find a lotus leaf to shelter from the rain and wait for his owner to come and get him.

Wen Yan is like that lotus leaf, a lush green lotus leaf that doesn't sway with the rain, giving people a sense of peace.

Wen Yan felt a calm she had never experienced before, and lowered her eyelids to look at his tightly clenched fist.

He didn't get close to her, but simply bent down and rested his head on her shoulder and neck, allowing the cold wind to seep in through the relatively wide gap between them.

After that day, Liang Jinglan began to avoid Wen Yan.

He was either training troops or on patrol, and time was so tight that Wen Yan had missed several attempts to see him.

Wen Yan didn't make things difficult for the soldier who replied. She looked down at her husband's letter and said in a light voice, "Yes, when the Marquis returns, remember to tell him that it's bitterly cold at the front. I'm going back to the city first. Tell him to come and find me when he has time."

The soldier respectfully responded and then withdrew.

Liang Jinglan, who was eavesdropping outside the camp, was slightly taken aback.

Isn't she taking him back to the city with her?

Feeling conflicted and disappointed, he felt he had lost his masculinity in front of Wen Yan.

"I didn't intend to cry that day, so why did I suddenly burst into tears? Brother Yuanjun, you won't laugh at me, will you!?"

He mumbled in a low voice, a look of regret in his eyes.

He was the Marquis of Zhenbei, a man who could shoot an enemy general with a single arrow, and the Xiongnu people were so terrified by his name that they had nightmares for three days straight.

They are often used to scare children.

But how could he shed tears in front of Brother Yuanjun?!

So embarrassing.

Liang Jinglan silently withdrew from public life.

A leisurely voice echoed from inside the camp: "How much longer does the Marquis intend to hide outside my camp?"

One person was inside the tent, and the other was outside, separated by a thin felt cloth that could be lifted at any time.

Liang Jinglan was shocked and stared straight at the felt cloth, as if looking through the cloth into Wen Yan's calm eyes.