Chapter 105: 106 A Dinner Party with a Harmonious Atmosphere

Chapter 105, 106. A Harmonious Dinner

The dining hall of Wushan Castle was opulent beyond measure.

The ceiling soared high, adorned with intricate carvings, while precious gems glimmered brilliantly beneath the radiant glow of a colossal magical crystal chandelier, exuding an unmatched air of nobility.

Murals covered entire walls—mountains and rivers, fearsome thunder-chasing beasts, and gentle, adorable creatures—like a grand gallery, adding layers of splendor.

At the center stood a long, exquisitely crafted table, laid with silver cutlery and candlesticks. As Luo Ning arrived, rows of servants on either side had already begun preparing the feast; fragrances wafted through the air, stirring the appetite.

Since leaving the rear mountain, Lu Lans had cooled his demeanor toward Luo Ning. He spoke not a word along the way, and upon entering the dining hall, he marched straight to the head seat—no trace of the joviality he had shown on the mountain.

This was clearly deliberate. Luo Ning accepted it without protest, quietly taking a seat off to the side.

“Ha! Long time no see, my dear brother!”

A youthful, bright laugh echoed as a boy with silver hair and black eyes stepped in, arms outstretched.

Breton bore a resemblance to Dai Anni, lending him an air of refined delicacy.

His expression was easy, confident, his smile radiant—as if meeting Luo Ning filled him with genuine joy.

“Long time no see, Breton.”

Luo Ning rose and embraced him warmly, greeting him with effortless familiarity.

Only then did Breton turn to Lu Lans and bow formally, almost stiffly. “Good evening, Grandfather.”

Lu Lans smiled and nodded, gesturing to the seat beside Luo Ning. “Sit. Where are Viggins and Dai Anni?”

“We’re here, Father!”

Dai Anni appeared at the entrance. Luo Ning turned to look.

She wore a relaxed gown, pushing a wheelchair into the room. Seated within it, Viggins—bearded, weary, and hollow-eyed—looked diminished.

“Father!”

Luo Ning stepped forward, his voice low and solemn. “I am deeply grieved by your suffering. But please, rally yourself. Wushan City and Wushan Domain still need you.”

Viggins nodded, his voice hoarse. “Thank you for your encouragement, Luo Ning. I thought you’d return in December. I didn’t expect you so soon. It seems you still carry me in your heart.”

As he spoke, he gestured for Dai Anni to wheel him closer to the table. She nodded to Luo Ning and continued pushing the chair into place, then greeted Lu Lans.

Luo Ning caught the bitterness in Viggins’ tone—the man resented him for not coming sooner to visit.

Yet it was clear: this blow had altered Viggins’ nature. In the past, he would have leapt up and cursed. Now, he merely laced his words with quiet venom.

“Since everyone is here, let us begin,” Lu Lans said.

At his words, servants lifted the silver lids from the dishes. Some carved roasted lamb, others sliced steaks, while still others poured wine into the guests’ goblets.

“It’s rare that we gather as a family,” Lu Lans raised his cup. “To Wushan!”

“To Wushan…”

“To Wushan…”

“To Wushan!”

They raised their glasses together and drank deeply.

There followed a round of toasts, but most were silent nods and swift gulps—no grand speeches, no loud banter.

Unlike the boisterous revelry of feasts past, this meal was quiet.

Luo Ning felt uneasy. He simply ate, head down.

Soon, Lu Lans set down his utensils, murmured something, and departed.

Luo Ning noticed the atmosphere at the table lightened noticeably. Clearly, the old marquis had weighed heavily upon them all.

Breton rose, lifting his crystal goblet toward Luo Ning.

“Luo Ning, I’ve heard you conquered three barbarian tribes. Your courage and achievements humble me. I hope to one day contribute to our family as you have!”

Luo Ning chuckled, standing to clink his glass against Breton’s. “They were backward savages. Honestly, finding their hiding places was harder than defeating them.”

“I heard you’ve become a junior knight,” Dai Anni added, raising her cup. “To your progress—cheers.”

“Thank you,” Luo Ning replied.

“Speaking of barbarian tribes… it reminds me of the days I led the noble coalition to purge them.”

Viggins, seated in his wheelchair, drifted into memory.

Back then, young and fiery, he had been far more vigorous than now—before his legs were broken. Yet he had failed to finish the job, letting the fleeing nobles escape. That failure still rankled.

“You’ve conquered three tribes. Add to that the one Sein conquered in the north, and finally—the criminals are cleansed. That’s one burden lifted from my soul.”

Viggins raised his cup. “You’ve done well.”

Luo Ning raised his glass again.

It was the first time he’d ever heard praise from Viggins. In memory, the former host had never offered such words.

“Brother, my grandfather has uncovered the truth: the assassination attempt on Father was carried out by the Skull Society—a branch of the Black Gold Brotherhood. To avenge Father and restore the honor of the Wushan family, both he and I believe we must march against the Black Gold Brotherhood come spring.”

Breton shifted the conversation to the assassination.

“In the past, Father led our campaigns. But now he’s unfit. Mother says I’m too young to go to war. So… will you represent the Wushan family next spring?”

Breton’s expression was earnest. “We need a commander who can truly stand for Wushan.”

Luo Ning’s heart tightened. The leap in topic was sudden.

But upon closer thought, it held logic.

Of the Wushan family members, only three could possibly represent them in battle: Lu Lans, Luo Ning, Breton.

Lu Lans would never leave his seat—eliminated.

Breton was thirteen—too young—eliminated.

Who remained? Obvious.

“Spring?” Luo Ning feigned surprise. “Is it already decided?”

Viggins nodded. “It should be.”

Luo Ning said nothing. Lu Lans hadn’t even made a decision yet. Their certainty felt premature.

But given the former host’s nature—and his own current position—Luo Ning simply smiled.

“The battlefield is perilous. Breton, as heir to the family and still so young, you’re not suited for war. Father’s wounds haven’t healed; he’s too frail to lead.”

He drained his cup. “To serve the family is my honor. If, come spring, Wushan Castle needs me to command, I will not refuse.”

At this, Viggins and the others smiled with relief—but what they truly thought, no one knew.

Breton would believe his brother had shown him respect.

Dai Anni would still see Luo Ning as naive, harmless.

Wiggins would think that this son had finally grown up, become somewhat useful, and could step up when needed.

To Ronin, it was merely empty words.

Even if Rulans hadn’t yet decided whether to launch a campaign next spring, even if he did—Ronin had countless reasons to delay his arrival, stationed as he was in the Mountain Village. He could simply pay a fine and endure a scolding.

Making him commander was far too hasty.

He, a man stripped of his inheritance, had indeed cleansed the wild tribes—but in the eyes of certain nobles, that feat meant little.

After all, if Wiggins himself struggled to command respect, how much less could this man, with his sordid past?

Even if they forced him into the role, would the nobles obey him?

They were no longer McKenn or Riedal. Without prestige, Ronin could never command effectively.

On the battlefield, an unruly force was a death sentence.

(End of Chapter)