The day that Xie Qianbing departed the Great Li, it was a typically bright, clear day in the desert. The sand curled around the convoy, and Wei Xiren, hand on the dao at her waist, stood outside the door, her cloak flapping loudly in the wind. Xie Qianbing rode at the front of the convoy, the hems of her dark black clothes stained with grit. "Do you really not need me to send soldiers with you?" Wei Xiren brought her horse to Xie Qianbing's side; this was the third time she'd asked this today, and when she spoke, her fingertips unconsciously stroked the hilt of her dao. Hearing this, Xie Qianbing merely smiled, swinging the red strings of the Talisman of Safety on her wrist. "When I left the capital, her majesty already sent me with three hundred elite guards. In the end, it's a diplomatic mission; the more people there are, the more of a hassle it'll be." Her words weren't wrong. Typically, a few dozen people would be enough for a diplomatic con...