"How brazen!" At those words, the faces of several Liang guards darkened in unison. "How dare you slander Great Liang's reputation?"
Regardless of whether it was true, for an enemy hostage from Jin to speak so boldly within Great Liang could easily be seen as an outright provocation.
However, the head guard sneered dismissively. "Tch, so what? Great Liang is the one who took builders and made them truly flourish!"
The fact that he didn't dispute the point showed that the claim, at the very least, aligned with general consensus.
What he emphasized was that Liang's builders were far more formidable now—did resting on the laurels of their ancestors really bring them that much pride?
Hearing this, an image sprang unbidden into Wu Youren's mind.
Towering, rugged mountains shrouded in drifting white mist, where a long dragon snaked and wound across ridges and peaks...
"Made them flourish?" Feng Qianjun gave an unconcerned smile.
With no intention of provoking them further, he merely glanced at Wu Youren—*You understand builders better. Aren't you going to say something?*
Yet, seeing the distracted look in Wu Youren's eyes, he sighed inwardly: *Guess I can't count on him.*
In the end, it was He Wenhao who spoke up. "Much of Jin's construction craft was applied to the people's livelihood, such as paving roads, dredging waterways..."
He had the standing to speak on this; historically, Liang's builders had truly been incompetent.
Liang had merely intensified its training efforts on the battlefield driven by the demands of warfare.
Paving roads, erecting bridges, digging trenches, setting up barracks, building fortifications... There was so much builders could do.
The exact same abilities, applied in vastly different fields, naturally yielded completely different returns.
Tilling deeply in civil infrastructure earned reasonable profits, but the very essence of war... was plunder!
More importantly, Great Liang had been winning continuously, so it was only natural that the profession of builders had developed rapidly.
"Then what's there to grumble about?" a Liang guard scoffed. "War makes for the easiest fortune. You chose the wrong path yourselves—who else is there to blame?"
"Fair enough," Wu Youren nodded slightly. "Great Jin stockpiles grain while Great Liang stockpiles guns... Well, let's just drop this talk about builders."
About a dozen minutes later, someone indeed arrived, though it would still take a while before a builder showed up.
Some guards wanted to wait a little longer, but the lead guard insisted that official business took priority. Leaving word that this was a job left behind by Young Marquis Wu, they departed.
The cars drove for another hour or so. On both sides of the highway, the surroundings grew increasingly desolate.
Hostage Manor had already been located in the suburbs of Tianjing, and by now they must have reached the outer fringes.
Wu Youren finally realized why Tianjing's oddness had felt faintly familiar.
Blocks strewn with broken walls and ruins, lifeless and decaying buildings, and rusted sheet metal scattered everywhere...
Wasn't this a rust belt? Could there have been a more glorious industrial era here in the past?
After another ten minutes of driving, the three vehicles veered off to the side, entering a weed-choked courtyard beside the road.
Wu Youren's lips twitched slightly: *This is the grand Tianjing?*
Over the past few decades, Great Liang had campaigned in all directions and conquered multiple kingdoms; describing it as being at the zenith of its power was no exaggeration at all.
He had certainly seen thriving, ascendant nations before. How could the vicinity of a royal capital look so dilapidated and deserted?
Then again, being at the zenith of power and genuinely thriving... weren't necessarily mutually exclusive either.
In truth, it wasn't just him who found it strange. Feng Qianjun also sensed something was off. "Out here, is there no need to worry about Guizu?"
The lead guard glanced at him and gave a cold grunt. "Did you expect us to deliver you to the Martial Academy dressed in our uniforms?"
At those words, all five hostages froze, looks of utter disbelief washing over their faces.
In their minds, they had already taken it for granted that this was the procedure. Who would have thought an unexpected twist would emerge now?
The five of them certainly didn't want to enter the academy with their hostage status exposed; doing so would guarantee discriminatory treatment day in and day out.
Even if they could stomach the humiliation, once they became targets of public hostility, any attempt to escape would become exponentially harder.
In short, they had long prepared themselves mentally to face a barrage of troubles and indignities.
Even so, they still looked forward to life at the Martial Academy—anything was better than the lifeless, suffocating Hostage Manor, wasn't it?
Hearing now that they might not have to reveal their hostage identities, their sense of anticipation soared in an instant.
Still, would the Liang people truly be so kindhearted? There had to be an ulterior motive!
Each of the five harbored their own thoughts—scions of noble houses never lacked perspective.
Though the chances of raising idle dandies were high, it all depended on the environment. Eight years as hostages in a foreign land—suffering had forced them to grow up.
Seeing that none of the five uttered a word, the Liang guards couldn't help marveling inwardly: *They truly can keep their composure.*
"Don't you have anything to say?"
After a brief silence, He Wenhao spoke up. "We are simply overjoyed and find it a little hard to believe. Is there anything required of us?"
Meat pies never fell from the sky for free, so it was better to be direct.
"It is merely for the friendship between Great Liang and Jin," the lead guard said in all seriousness.
Whether they believed it or not, he certainly acted as if he did!
"Exposing your identities as hostages would harm your standing at the Martial Academy. Naturally, we also hope you won't let our trust down."
The five hostages exchanged looks.
In the end, Feng Qianjun spoke on their behalf. "Please rest assured. We deeply appreciate this goodwill and value the amity between our two nations."
Diplomatic platitudes were best left to him; the others lacked sufficient standing.
The guard leader paused for a moment before offering a faint smile. "Remember your words. You'll understand in the future."
His words clearly left something unsaid, but the five hostages didn't care too much.
At the very least, keeping their identities concealed was a promising start.
As for whatever might come later, they could only play it by ear and deal with things as they arose.
At this moment, the other four hostages shared the feeling Wu Youren had experienced earlier: since they couldn't control the situation anyway, they had no choice but to endure it.
Immediately afterward, Wu Youren spoke up. "Excuse me... are we truly in no danger of running into Guizu here?"
*Isn't your focus a bit ill-timed?* He Wenhao gave him a speechless look.
Feng Qianjun, on the other hand, nodded inwardly: *To change the subject so promptly while still managing to test the waters... but is he really that sharp?*
"So what if we run into them?" a guard snorted contemptuously. "Look at how timid you are."
In the vicinity of the imperial capital, even if Guizu appeared, they would only be of the lowest grade.
Whether it was the guards present or the five across from them, the weakest among them were apprentice knights. What was there to worry about?
Yet he had no interest in explaining this to enemy hostages, choosing instead to indulge his mood and seize the chance to mock him.
"What I meant was..." Wu Youren raised a hand, pointing at the dark clouds in the distance. "It's about to rain!"
Certain Guizu found it inconvenient to appear during the day, but overcast skies removed many of those restrictions, and rain even more so.
The others understood his point, but the guard remained unbothered. "Heh, so what if Guizu show up?"
Wu Youren fell silent, his eyes darting around the courtyard.
At last, he spotted an exposed section of rebar, roughly twenty centimeters long and one centimeter thick.
He walked over and began bending the steel bar back and forth—such a piece of rebar would be far deadlier than his wooden shortsword.
The others could easily guess his intention; hostages were strictly forbidden from possessing weapons of significant lethality.
Still, to be so poor that even scrap rebar caught his eye... Well, his modest clothes already spoke volumes about his dire straits.
Feng Qianjun blinked a couple of times, ultimately deciding against offering him any aid.
They had only just left Hostage Manor and had no idea what trials awaited them at the Martial Academy; he was in no position to squander his sympathy on others.
Yet he didn't just stand idle either. Walking toward the car, he said, "Then I'll prepare a couple more weapons as well."
He didn't have many personal weapons on him either, and most were purely decorative, not particularly practical, but they were still better than wooden swords.
"Both of you, stop right there!" the guard leader barked with a cold snort. "The reception party will be here any minute. Don't go looking for trouble—"
Right then, another guard walked over. "Boss, I just got in touch with them. They said we need to wait a bit!"
"Wait, my ass!" The leader flared up in fury. "This was fucking arranged long ago! A mere intermediate martial academy, putting on airs for who?"
"They said... they already came by, but didn't see us," the guard replied listlessly.
Though they could boss the hostages around as they pleased, their standing within the broader guard hierarchy was actually quite low.
Officials across Great Liang knew that guards wearing the armbands marked with the character "Hostage" came from decent family backgrounds and had unassailable loyalty.
It was an easy, low-stress posting with relatively handsome perks.
Crucially, it involved little to no danger; without family connections, one couldn't land a post here.
However, those assigned to this department were basically there just to coast and wait around for retirement.
An easy watch job meant virtually no chances to earn military merit, and spending years rubbing shoulders with enemy hostages was actually a blemish when it came to promotions!
There were certainly people who managed to achieve great things, but they were few and far between.
Thus, it was hardly surprising that even an intermediate martial academy looked down on them.
"We're fucking doing business for Young Marquis Wu!" the leader raged. "Didn't you explain that to them?"
"They said they understood, but had other arrangements scheduled," the guard explained, still sounding rather limp. "So if they come back, it'll be a bit later. After all, we were the ones who failed to be on time first."
"I fucking wanted to be on time too, didn't I?" the leader muttered feebly.
There was nothing he could do. Who could have foreseen running into the young marquis drag racing? "Did they say when they could make it?"
"They said they weren't sure!" the guard answered heavily. "Apparently, Red Pine Martial Academy has had a lot on its plate lately too."
"Bullshit. They're probably plotting something," the leader said with a darkened face.
Anyone who assumed martial academies were full of reckless hotheads was dead wrong.
Great Liang might not emphasize an academic faction, but over decades of warfare, the various martial academies had produced countless prominent talents.
Just then, someone finally gave a warning. "Boss, the dark clouds are closing in!"
The leader pondered for a moment before grumbling reluctantly, "Park all the cars under the eaves and stay on high alert!"
"One damn thing after another..."
Chapter 9