In the holy city of Vaes Dothrak.
"Xu Jinjiang?" Aegon Targaryen raised an eyebrow and called out to Khal Drogo.
"What?" Khal Drogo turned his head to look behind him, looking completely bewildered.
"It's nothing, Khal Drogo. I've come to seek your cooperation."
With that, Aegon Targaryen tossed a severed head onto the ground. The head rolled until it stopped at Khal Drogo's feet.
Khal Drogo looked closely and recognized it—it was his old rival, Khal Ogo.
"This head is a token of my sincerity; I need the army under your command."
Khal Drogo looked at the hooded figure with disdain.
"Who are you? The Dothraki do not befriend those who hide their faces." Khal Drogo crossed his arms over his chest and asked with his head held high.
After so much time studying, Khal Drogo was already able to communicate in the Common Tongue of Westeros.
Aegon Targaryen chuckled and nonchalantly removed his hood.
Blue hair cascaded down to his shoulders. His handsome face wore a smile, and his blue eyes shone like amber.
Looking at this face, Daenerys Targaryen instinctively took a few steps forward; this face looked too much like her eldest brother, Rhaegar Targaryen, from her dreams!
At the same time, rhllor also sensed the surging magic within Daenerys Targaryen.
"Kill her! The magic contained within her is more than ten times that of Viserys. As long as I kill her, I can fully resurrect!"
rhllor kept egging him on, but Aegon Targaryen was already used to this routine, and his heart remained completely unmoved.
"Since we're meeting for the first time, let me introduce myself."
As he spoke, Aegon Targaryen stomped his right foot on the ground, and countless shadows spread out from beneath him, surrounding everyone instantly with eerie, dark, and sinister shadows.
Khal Drogo immediately stepped back to shield Daenerys Targaryen behind him, while the Blood Riders collectively drew their arakhs, ready for battle.
After using his magic, Aegon Targaryen's hair slowly faded from blue, revealing shimmering silver hair. His purple eyes replaced the blue, revealing his true appearance.
"My name is Aegon Targaryen. My father was Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, and I am the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."
"Who did you say you were?!"
Seeing the face that resembled her dreams and hearing the familiar name, Daenerys Targaryen was completely stunned, followed by boundless joy.
She walked out, wanting to get closer, but she restrained herself.
So she was not alone; she still had kin, and this man was her nephew.
"I am Aegon Targaryen, and my father was Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. By blood, I should call you Aunt."
After establishing the family connection, Aegon Targaryen turned his gaze back to Khal Drogo; after all, only Khal Drogo's word carried weight here.
"We can cooperate. When the time is right, we will strike back at Westeros. When I sit on the iron throne, I will grant you a vast fiefdom. You can herd livestock, farm, and provide for your people."
Aegon Targaryen extended an olive branch.
"Khal Drogo will not bow to anyone. After conquering Westeros, the iron throne will belong to me and my khaleesi."
Khal Drogo did not yield; in his eyes, no one could stand on equal footing with him.
"What a coincidence, I won't bow to anyone either. I was born destined to sit on the iron throne and rule the Seven Kingdoms."
"Khal Drogo was born to ride the stallion that mounts the world and rule over all under heaven."
"Logically speaking, since you killed my uncle, I should avenge him."
"You can come for revenge right now; Khal Drogo does not fear any man's challenge."
Daenerys Targaryen, who had been standing between the two, only thought for a moment before taking her husband Khal Drogo's side.
In her eyes, the memories of the Targaryen dynasty were far less profound than her memories with her sun and stars, Khal Drogo.
"Since we can't reach a decision in the short term, why not wait until after we've conquered Westeros to discuss it? After all, we are family, and we can decide who becomes king then."
Jon Clinton, seeing that neither Aegon Targaryen nor Khal Drogo would yield, had to step in to mediate.
He also emphasized the main objective to everyone, because there was no point in agonizing every day over whether to attend Peking University or Tsinghua University if your test scores didn't even reach the second-tier cutoff. It was better to cooperate and conquer the iron throne first.
In truth, Jon Clinton had selfish motives here, because Aegon Targaryen was, after all, Prince Rhaegar Targaryen's son, and his place in the line of succession was far higher than his aunt Daenerys Targaryen's.
When the time came, if they truly conquered Westeros and let the meritorious groups and old Targaryen loyalists choose, those people would certainly choose Aegon Targaryen.
...
"Friends over there, you've been following for so long, why not come out and meet?"
Just then, Aegon Targaryen suddenly shouted toward a mound in the distance.
Amidst the confused gazes of everyone present, three figures of different heights slowly walked out.
As they drew closer, everyone could finally see what they looked like.
The one on the left was handsome, with eyes as blue and amber-like as the sea, and desert-colored hair streaked with gold, a faint smile hanging on his lips.
The one on the right was extremely robust, with fat on his belly that jiggled as he walked, and a round, smooth head.
The person in the middle was not very tall—in fact, he could be considered the shortest of the three—but he was burly, sturdy, and thickset.
His features were unremarkable, with bright black eyes, a somewhat broad forehead, and a sharp nose, with a few strands of silver mixed into his thick black hair.
Khal Drogo was almost confused to the point of bewilderment. He thought to himself: How did another bunch of people pop up? Have these Westerosi always been this elusive?
"Who are you?" Khal Drogo asked, very guardedly.
"They are from Dorne. Prince Doran of Dorne sent his son, Quentyn Martell, also to discuss cooperation with you."
Before the three men, including Quentyn Martell, could speak, Aegon Targaryen spoke up first to tell Daenerys Targaryen everything. It seemed that Aegon Targaryen had also been tracking this group for a long time.
"I wonder what business Prince Quentyn of Dorne has, coming all this way to find me?"
Daenerys Targaryen was even more confused, but she knew that House Targaryen and House Martell had a close relationship, so she stepped forward to ask politely.
However, the person she was looking at while speaking was the handsome Gareth Tywin.
Perhaps in her view, a prince should be strikingly handsome, and the other two looked every bit like the prince's attendants.
"Uh... actually, this person beside me is the prince, not me."
Gareth Tywin gave an awkward smile, took a step back, and pushed his friend Quentyn Martell to the front.
Daenerys Targaryen realized she had made a huge mistake, so she blinked in great embarrassment, showing the apology of a young girl.
Afterwards, Daenerys Targaryen repeated the question to the unremarkable-looking Quentyn Martell in the middle.
"I wonder what business Prince Quentyn of Dorne has, coming all this way to find me?"
"Uh, this..." Quentyn Martell was stumped by the question.
How was Quentyn Martell supposed to answer that? Her husband was still alive, and she was still pregnant.
Should he say at this moment that the two of them had a marriage contract, and ask her to dump her husband so they could fulfill it?
Even if he could accept the child in Daenerys Targaryen's womb, would she be able to accept him?
He couldn't exactly say he was willing to take the surname of the child in Daenerys Targaryen's womb, could he? Don't joke!
"We come from Dorne, across the Narrow Sea, to cooperate with House Targaryen. We know you want to kill the usurper on the iron throne and reclaim it."
"I believe our goals are aligned. Our House Martell also has an irreconcilable blood feud with House Baratheon and House Lannister, so even if you don't agree to cooperate for now, at least let the three of us follow by your side."
Hearing this sudden influx of massive information, Daenerys Targaryen was left stunned on the spot.
She truly found it hard to believe that after more than a decade in exile, when the Targaryen dynasty had long since become history, so many people would still come to seek her cooperation.
However, disbelief was one thing, but she still held great goodwill toward the world. At this moment, Daenerys Targaryen was willing to believe that these people had genuinely come to seek her cooperation.
"Although I don't have any plans in that regard for the time being, I am willing to let you follow me."
Daenerys Targaryen said with a smile; her smile was innocent and pure, healing to the heart.
...
The wind began to pick up in Vaes Dothrak, whipping up layers of fine sand that swirled chaotically in the air.
"We will lie low for now and build up our strength. When the time is ripe, we can rise up, strike back at Westeros, and reclaim the iron throne."
Aegon Targaryen told Daenerys Targaryen and Quentyn Martell about his plan.
Well, he didn't really have much of a plan.
"However, I still have some things to confirm. We shall meet again."
With that, Aegon Targaryen decisively turned and left with the Golden Company behind him.
Daenerys Targaryen watched the back of her nephew in a daze, saying nothing.
But hope was rekindled in her heart; perhaps one day, they could truly return to their homeland and restore the glory of House Targaryen.
...
Just before leaving, Aegon Targaryen turned his head back to look at Daenerys Targaryen and said:
"Oh, by the way, my aunt, I think it is necessary for you to make a trip to Asshai."
"Why?"
Daenerys Targaryen was very confused, as Asshai was a place too mysterious, and she didn't think she would have any connection to such a place.
"Because there are no lemon trees in Braavos."
"What?!"
Watching the incredibly surprised expression of his aunt, Daenerys Targaryen, Aegon Targaryen waved his hand with satisfaction and gradually departed with the Golden Company.