The Mountain of Ice and Fire

The first person to see Tyrion was the awe-inspiring witch. She only glanced at him before looking away, but in that single glance, Tyrion felt as though she had seen right through him, as if he were naked.

The meaning in her gaze was even deeper, as if she knew all of Tyrion's secrets.

This feeling made Tyrion very uncomfortable.

He knew it was one of the witch's little tricks, perhaps a form of illusion. Tyrion had no fondness for figures like nuns, monks, wizards, priests, or pastors. He admitted that they all had some manipulative tricks or spoke in mysterious ways to confuse people, ultimately for the sake of gold.

They were not messengers of gods, but messengers of their own desires. Obscurantism was their only skill.

Tyrion knew that his father never believed in the tricks of witches, so why was this witch still here, and why was the Mountain here as well?

Given the Mountain's stupidity, he was not qualified to be here either. The army headquarters was the place for the highest military decisions.

In Tyrion's mind, the only person who deserved to sit with his father at army headquarters was his uncle, Kevan Lannister.

Tyrion looked at the Mountain. He had made a deal with him last night: he would give the Mountain one hundred gold dragons in exchange for keeping Shae's secret. Of course, Tyrion wasn't sure if the Mountain could actually do it, but he hadn't given him the gold yet. Before leaving today, he had made arrangements for Shae and promised the head of the camp prostitutes a bag of gold.

Being able to run up debts everywhere with just his words was one of Tyrion's great skills.

Money was like a whore, neither to be loved nor cherished.

The second person to see Tyrion was the Mountain. His eyes reminded Tyrion of the eyes of a shadowcat, or the hungry eyes of a wolf in the Westerlands forest. There was no friendliness in those eyes, only bestial aggression and a thirst for killing.

A good rabid dog, but Tyrion preferred to think of the Mountain as a hungry wolf. The Mountain's ferocity was more suited to a wolf. Dogs were only suitable for the Hound, Sandor, but the Mountain didn't have a dog's loyalty to its master. Dogs were loyal to the family that fed them, but not the Mountain. Only his father could command him, and no one else with Lannister blood.

Tyrion winked at the Mountain.

The Mountain had severely humiliated Bronn last night, grinding both Bronn's and Tyrion's dignity into the dirt. But Tyrion knew that arguing with a brainless brute like the Mountain was foolish. Defeating the Mountain wouldn't be about who had the bigger fists.

Still, Tyrion was a little surprised.

The third person to see Tyrion was his uncle, Kevan Lannister, who was very surprised: "Tyrion? You're back!"

"Hello, good uncle!" Tyrion's misshapen legs took comically dashing, bow-legged strides as he bowed to his uncle and father. "Good father, I am very sorry to have caused you trouble because of my affairs."

Lord Tywin didn't move an inch. He looked at Tyrion Lannister without any expression, as if he were looking at an ordinary piece of furniture or a common stone: "Rumors were spreading everywhere that you were dead. Now it seems those were just rumors."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, father," Tyrion swayed to the wine cabinet and poured himself a full glass of wine without any politeness, taking a big gulp first. "Good wine, damn it, that's great! Father, now that I've come back from the dead, please don't jump up and hug me, in case you strain your back."

No one laughed at Tyrion's witty remarks. The four people in the room all looked at the swaying dwarf with cautious eyes.

Tyrion seemed not to care about anything, but he took in the situation of all four people. It seemed that the Mountain, that bastard, had kept his promise from last night and hadn't told his father that he was back. In fact, when he returned last night, he had instructed Lord Leo Lefford not to tell his father the news, so that he could relax and find a prostitute to sleep with for one night. Lord Leo Lefford had agreed understandingly.

So, his father wouldn't know about his amorous adventures on the east bank of the Green Fork last night.

Tyrion glanced at the Mountain. He thought he should pour the Mountain a glass of wine. His father had said that there was nothing that a bag of gold couldn't solve, and if there was, then two bags.

There were many prostitutes, but a prostitute who was interesting to talk to, did things well, and was petite and exquisite was one in a hundred.

Tyrion didn't want to sleep with Shae for only one night. She was a rare beauty, and he still had the warmth of her lips. He wanted to keep her by his side until he found a prostitute who was even better than her.

The Mountain was really decent this time!

"Thank you very much for sending troops to fight for me, father," Tyrion said, climbing onto a chair and facing his father. One hand held the wine glass, and the other held the wine bottle.

"You're very pleased with yourself! Tyrion, this war started because of you," Lord Tywin replied, "If it had been your brother Jaime, he would never have succumbed to a woman. Catelyn Tully was able to subdue you and capture you. You really are something."

Tyrion chuckled: "Father, if you look closely, you'll find that Jaime is not only better at swordsmanship than me, but also taller."

The Mountain suddenly interrupted, which was actually very impolite, interrupting when the Duke and his son were talking: "Imp!" The Mountain called him by his nickname, which was in line with the Mountain's stupidity and rudeness. "This war concerns the honor of the Lannister family. The Westerlands people have no choice. Anyone who makes a Lannister bleed will be severely punished!"

"Well said, Mountain," Tyrion said with a smile. "I'm surprised you can say such things. Really, it's as if you've actually been to school. Actually, I didn't shed a drop of blood, although there were a few close calls. My attendants, Morris and Jack, died instead." Tyrion looked at Lord Tywin, staring at the Duke's pale green eyes with a hint of gold. "Father, I'm curious, when did your army headquarters start seating a house slave, the Mountain, and a mysterious witch?"

Tywin stared at Tyrion's one green and one black eye (as in the original): "Ser Gregor is not a house slave, he is family. Like you, he is now my child. The witch is Ser Gregor's maternal grandmother, and also your elder. Everyone sitting in this room is family, there are no outsiders."

Tyrion was drinking and suddenly choked. The Duke's words surprised him too much. He quickly turned his head, but the wine had already choked on his father's face. Lord Tywin showed no expression, and slowly wiped the wine stains from his face with a silk scarf.

Ser Kevan spoke: "Tyrion, the Mountain married Jeyne Westerling, the daughter of Lord Gawen of the Crag, and Jeyne is the Duke's adopted daughter. She is your sister, whom you have not yet met. Jeyne Westerling is proficient in medicine, agriculture, literature, and painting, and is very talented. She presented her research results on milk sterilization to King Robert in the Red Keep of King's Landing, allowing the people of King's Landing to drink fresh milk instead of pouring it into the sewers. The Mountain presented the unique snow salt of the Westerlands to the King, and Robert personally granted the Mountain the title of Earl."

Tyrion's eyes darted around. Last night he heard someone call the Mountain an Earl, and he thought he had misheard. He didn't expect the Mountain's title to be even higher than his. No wonder this fool was even more arrogant and domineering.

"Jeyne found a way to sterilize milk?" Tyrion's eyes flickered. "On my way back, there were quite a few farmers in the Vale of Arryn who were pouring away milk."

"There are also many who pour away milk in the Riverlands, although we have already sold the milk sterilization technology to Riverrun, they haven't had time to teach it to their vassals below. The farmers know even less," the Mountain said calmly.

Tyrion wiped the wine stains from his clothes: "Mountain, the heavens must be blind to let you marry such a smart wife. I'll drink to you, and sincerely hope she lives a long life."

The family members who lived with the Mountain all died tragically one after another: father, sister, two wives, and a brother, the Hound, who would never return.

"The Mountain invented the military whistle and chopsticks. His subject, Master Tobho Mott, invented the noodle machine. Currently, noodles have been sold to the other side of the Narrow Sea through the port of Lannisport. Earl Addam Lannister of Lannisport is cooperating with Earl Gregor to open the first noodle restaurant in Lannisport, and business is booming. Now they have sent people to open a second noodle restaurant in King's Landing."

"Also, the best-selling Westerlands snow salt is also the Mountain's invention of the salt boiling method. Lady Jeyne also invented the P-trap in Clegane's Keep, a special curved pipe that prevents the stench from the toilet's septic tank from flowing back into the room through the pipes," Lord Tywin calmly watched Tyrion's doubtful expression turn into shocked astonishment. "Ser Tyrion, do you now think that the Mountain is qualified to sit in my army headquarters and participate in decision-making?"

"Ser Tyrion, do you believe in the Seven Gods? Not just perfunctorily chanting a few prayers, but truly believing in the Seven Gods from the depths of your heart and soul. If you sincerely believe in the gods, you will understand that the Mountain and Jeyne's inventions are not because of their intelligence and talent, but because of divine will," the witch said slowly.

Tyrion looked at the witch and saw the witch's mouth full of black teeth.

How could a normal person's teeth be black, and black and shiny? The witch's face and hands were painted with seven-pointed stars, and she didn't look like a normal person at all.

"I have always believed in the Seven Gods, but the Seven Gods do not favor their people," Tyrion swallowed a big gulp of saliva. He had too many questions to believe. He was a learned man and extremely intelligent, and his mind was full of knowledge. It was difficult for anyone to fool him, and he was the one who fooled others. "You're called Witch? Okay, I admit I've heard your name since I was a child. Grandmother, hehe, a very nice title, if you believe in the Seven Gods, then look at my height and my legs, and my two eyes that are different colors, how could the Seven Gods be so cruel to his people, and make me lose the kindness of this world since I was a child."

When Tyrion said this, his eyes looked at the Mountain. Last night he had already tasted the deliciousness of snow salt.

The Mountain's ability to invent military whistles, chopsticks, and find a way to make snow salt still shocked his recovered heart!

Thank you: [Loving Your Heart 2] for the reward support, thank you, handshake!