Chen Rong stood beside the off-road vehicle, still reflecting on Genghis Khan's earlier declaration.
As expected of Genghis Khan…
His reasoning was blunt, ruthless, and terrifyingly direct. If such words were spoken in the modern world, they would be condemned as the philosophy of a butcher — a man guilty of crimes against humanity.
But this was the thirteenth century.
In this era, strength defined justice. Victory defined legitimacy. And no one possessed the power to restrain the rising storm from the steppe.
"Khan," Chen Rong said slowly, "your temperament reminds me of an old allusion from the Warring States period."
Genghis Khan turned slightly, interest flashing across his eyes.
"Oh? An allusion from the Central Plains? Speak, then. I would hear it."
Chen Rong nodded.
"During the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods, the State of Chu and the State of Qin were often regarded as barbarians by the eastern states.
On one occasion, the State of Chu attacked the small State of Sui. The ruler of Sui sent an envoy to question the King of Chu, asking: 'We have committed no offense. Why do you attack us?'"
Chen Rong paused, then smiled faintly.
"The King of Chu replied with only one sentence: 'Because I am a barbarian.'"
The wind swept across the grass, carrying the silence for a brief moment.
The situation of Chu in those early years bore a certain resemblance to Mongolia now.
The Jin Dynasty, Western Xia, Southern Song, and even the distant Khwarazm—all had once regarded Mongolia as nothing more than a savage land.
Yet history had taken a different course.
Chu eventually faded.
But Genghis Khan—and the Golden Family—would shape an entire century.
Genghis Khan burst into laughter.
"Hahaha! Well said!"
His laughter echoed loudly across the empty plains.
"I am indeed a barbarian," he said with a grin. "Those who refuse to obey me—I beat them.
Those who refuse to give me face—I beat them. Those who possess too much wealth—I beat them as well."
His tone carried humor, yet there was unmistakable truth beneath the words.
Behind them, however, Ögedei and Tolui exchanged a subtle glance.
Quietly, the two princes rested their hands upon their sabers.
Some words… should not be heard by too many people.
Their father's remarks, though spoken casually, revealed his true attitude toward neighboring nations.
If such sentiments spread, they could create unnecessary diplomatic complications—especially among surrendered generals and allied tribes.
The two brothers silently reached for their weapons.
The faint sound of steel sliding against leather barely disturbed the wind.
They had already decided.
If necessary, they would silence Chen Rong.
However, before the blades fully left their sheaths, Genghis Khan turned his head.
His gaze met theirs.
Then, almost imperceptibly, he shook his head.
Ögedei and Tolui immediately froze.
After a brief pause, both quietly returned their sabers to their sheaths.
Chen Rong suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.
He frowned slightly, instinctively glancing behind him. For a moment, he thought he had heard the faint sound of a blade being sheathed.
But when he turned, Ögedei and Tolui sat calmly nearby, their expressions composed, eyes half-closed in quiet rest.
Strange…
"What troubles you, Mr. Chen?" Genghis Khan asked.
Chen Rong forced a faint smile.
"Nothing. I simply felt a sudden chill along my back."
Indeed, it had felt as though an unseen blade had passed close behind him. The sensation lingered faintly, leaving him uneasy.
Genghis Khan rose, walked over, and removed his sheepskin coat.
"Hahaha! The nights on the grassland grow cold quickly. Your body is somewhat thin, Mr. Chen. You must eat more beef and mutton in the future."
He draped the heavy sheepskin coat across Chen Rong's shoulders.
"This coat is yours."
Chen Rong wrapped the coat around himself, warmth immediately spreading through his body.
"Thank you, Great Khan."
The temperature had indeed dropped sharply. Though the noon sun had been hot, the evening air now carried a biting chill.
Unbeknownst to Chen Rong, he had just narrowly escaped death.
Genghis Khan returned to his seat and looked at him thoughtfully.
"You speak directly. Unlike the scholars of the Central Plains, who circle their words with endless courtesy. I like your character."
He paused.
"You will remain by my side from now on and offer counsel. You lived with the gods for more than three years—you must have learned much."
Genghis Khan had spoken with Yelü Chucai earlier. Yelü Chucai had mentioned that Chen Rong possessed unusual insight and might hold knowledge useful for governing.
Chen Rong hesitated briefly.
He had expected such a moment.
Fortunately, he had prepared.
"Thanks to the Great Khan's favor," Chen Rong replied, "I did learn certain things during my time with the gods. Methods for increasing grain production, managing land and construction, improving livestock breeding, and techniques for training soldiers."
Internally, however, he remained cautious.
The knowledge within his mobile phone represented true cross-generational advantage. But revealing everything at once would be foolish.
Among his stored materials were agricultural improvements, fertilizer production, improved livestock breeding, irrigation techniques, brick-making, cement production, and even basic military training manuals.
Any one of these could reshape a nation.
But revealing too much too quickly would only invite suspicion.
Genghis Khan, Ögedei, and Tolui all looked at him with surprise.
If this man spoke truth, he possessed rare talent.
If he lied—he was the boldest deceiver in the world.
"Very good," Genghis Khan said slowly. "After the western campaign, when we return to Mongolia, you will demonstrate your abilities in governing a great nation."
His eyes sharpened.
Increasing grain production. Managing land. Expanding livestock. Training soldiers.
These were the foundations of statecraft.
Food supported population. Population supported armies. Cities stabilized territory. Armies secured power.
Chen Rong's claims touched upon every pillar of governance.
Bold claims indeed.
Let us see whether you truly possess such ability.
Chen Rong, however, felt cold sweat forming beneath his collar.
Governing a country?
I never said I could govern a country…
He only intended to introduce agricultural and technological improvements—not become a statesman.
Still, refusing now would only raise suspicion.
He could only nod silently.
The four men rested near the stone hill for roughly half an hour.
Eventually, distant dust clouds appeared on the horizon.
A large group of Mongol cavalry approached at full speed.
One general quickly dismounted and knelt before Genghis Khan.
"Great Khan! Are you unharmed?"
"I am well," Genghis Khan replied calmly. "Mr. Chen and I have waited here for some time. You have finally caught up."
"Please forgive us, Great Khan. That iron chariot ran too swiftly. Even when we drove our horses hard, we could not keep pace."
The general's voice carried lingering disbelief.
Never had he imagined such speed.
Genghis Khan nodded.
"Very well. It is growing late. We return to camp."
This time, Genghis Khan chose not to ride in the off-road vehicle. Instead, he mounted a swift horse.
Soon, the group turned toward the Mongol encampment, disappearing into the fading light of the Khwarazm frontier.