HNYWEF -Chapter 102 The Calm Before the Storm

Year 4 of Zhenguan, 12th day of the 2nd month.

When the messenger passed by, Zhou Xiong was sitting at the doorway basking in the sun.

The sound of horse hooves came from the mouth of the alley—distant at first, then close, then fading again, fast like a gust of wind.

The rider was slumped low over the horse’s back. A small flag was stuck behind him, red background with black characters. Zhou Xiong couldn’t make out what it said.

But he knew what it was.

An emergency dispatch—“eight hundred li express.”

Zhou Xiong stayed sitting at the door, watching the horse disappear into the far end of the alley.

In the past half month, he had already seen several messengers like this.

He had gotten used to it.

He looked away and continued basking in the sun.

Zhou Hong poked his head out from the workshop.

“Brother, another one just went by.”

Zhou Xiong nodded.

Zhou Hong waited a moment. Seeing no response, he asked again:

“Do you think all this running around means we’re winning or losing?”

Zhou Xiong didn’t answer.

He narrowed his eyes and looked up at the sky.

The sky was very blue. Almost no clouds.

Seeing that he wasn’t talking, Zhou Hong retreated back inside and continued working.

Zhou Yi stood by the furnace, poking at the firewood inside with a wooden stick.

After a while, he looked up toward the alley mouth, then lowered his head again and kept tending the fire.

Suddenly, Zhou Xiong spoke.

“Probably the last one.”

Zhou Yi froze for a moment and looked up.

“The last what?”

Zhou Xiong didn’t answer.

He stood up, brushed the dust off his clothes, and walked inside.

After a few steps, he suddenly stopped.

The corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

Zhou Yi saw it.

His father was smiling again.

That kind of smile—he had seen it a few times before. Not the usual kind. It was the kind of smile someone makes when remembering something interesting, something they can’t quite hold back.

It had happened last year too.

He didn’t know what his father was smiling about.

But he felt his father was in a pretty good mood today.

Zhou Xiong stood there, the smile still lingering.

He suddenly thought back to last August, when he visited Li Ji at his residence.

Back then, Li Ji had been packing his gear, saying he was preparing to march against the Turks.

He had been sitting there drinking tea when he suddenly said:

“If the Khagan Jie Li could come to Chang’an and dance a Turkic dance for Li Er on the spot, that would probably be pretty interesting.”

Li Ji had been stunned for a moment, then laughed.

Then, on the 9th day of the 2nd month, the Battle of Yin Mountain happened.

Li Jing and Li Ji crushed the Eastern Turks.

Khagan Jie Li was captured.

The Eastern Turkic Khaganate fell.

Zhou Xiong stood there, those memories turning in his mind.

The words written in history books had finally become reality.

That khagan who had dominated the grasslands for over a decade was now being escorted toward Chang’an as a prisoner.

Soon, he would appear on the streets of the capital, dressed in captive clothing, surrounded by onlookers.

And then—

Zhou Xiong smiled again.

He remembered something from history.

After Jie Li was captured, Emperor Taizong had him perform a Turkic dance for the retired emperor Li Yuan.

On top of the Lingyan Pavilion.

Li Yuan had watched the scene and laughed, saying to those around him:

“Hu and Yue under one family—never seen before in ancient times.”

Quite the spectacle.

Too bad.

Zhou Xiong pulled himself back and walked inside.

He probably wouldn’t go see that kind of spectacle.

What right did a blacksmith like him have to attend such a scene?

But it didn’t matter.

Knowing it was enough.

He entered the workshop and picked up his hammer.

Zhou Hong was working the bellows and asked casually:

“Brother, what were you laughing about just now?”

Zhou Xiong didn’t answer.

He pulled out the iron block and placed it on the anvil.

Clang.

Zhou Hong waited a while. Seeing no response, he didn’t ask again.

He just kept working the bellows.

Zhou Yi ran in from the doorway and stood beside his father watching him.

Zhou Xiong struck the iron, again and again.

No expression on his face.

But Zhou Yi felt something was different about his father today.

Not the kind of “happy” different.

Something else.

He couldn’t describe it.

Zhou Xiong kept forging.

Then suddenly, he laughed again.

This time, out loud.

Zhou Hong and Zhou Yi both looked up at him at the same time.

Zhou Xiong ignored them.

He kept striking the iron.

Clang.
Clang.
Clang.

Zhou Hong and Zhou Yi exchanged a glance.

Zhou Hong opened his mouth, wanting to say something.

But he didn’t know what to say.

He lowered his head and kept working the bellows.

Zhou Yi also lowered his head and continued handing over tools.

Only the sound of hammering remained in the room.

One strike after another.

Turkic dance.

Danced for Li Yuan.

He probably wouldn’t go see it.

But he felt the thing itself was already interesting enough.

The corners of his mouth lifted again.

Higher than before.

But before all this?

He couldn’t smile anymore.