During the hour of xu (7:00 p.m. – 9:00 p.m.), the stars shone over the night.

Chang Jun had just finished making the princess’s bed when he saw the little princess, hair loosened, dive headfirst into the quilt. She mumbled complaints under her breath, punching the bedding as she cursed.

Chang Jun couldn’t help but laugh: “Is Your Highness scolding that mountain lord? How has he angered you? Why not tell me—Chang Jun will scold him with you.”

“…I hate the way he looked at me today!”

Lizhu sat up in anger.

Back then, when the two were wed, she had been furious that he had not informed her beforehand—he had directly used his military merits to request an imperial marriage decree right in the grand hall.

So, for a long time after their wedding, Lizhu never allowed him to share her bed.

By day, he was the powerful leader of the Pei faction, holding sway over the court; by night, he lay on the floor beside the princess’s bed, not even qualified to touch the edge of her mattress.

Yet he never grew angry. His face always carried a spring breeze, and he came up with endless ways to make Lizhu smile.

Day by day, her heart softened.

At some point, he no longer had to sleep on the floor, and the smile on Lizhu’s face became more and more frequent.

The husband she remembered was precisely such a man—disciplined and upright, gentle and courteous.

However, that look in his eyes earlier today—

Lizhu was all too sensitive to that kind of gaze.

In the past, when she taught him calligraphy in the study, barely half an hour would pass before his thoughts strayed far from brush and ink.

At one moment, he pitied her for standing too long and asked her to sit on his lap.

At another, he said there was ink on her face and offered to wipe it off.

And then, somehow, his hand would slip into her collar, his pair of dark eyes gazing fixedly at her, as though swallowing her whole into their depths.

…But back then, they were already husband and wife.

Now, they had only met a few times!

What on earth was he thinking!

When Lizhu waited a while and didn’t hear Chang Jun’s agreement, she turned her head toward him.

“Why aren’t you scolding with me?”

“Hmm…” Chang Jun looked troubled, lowering his voice. “In truth, this humble one feels that although the mountain lord’s words may sometimes sound frivolous, he is not that kind of shameless, indecent man.”

Testing the water temperature, Chang Jun brought over the basin and served the princess as she washed her feet.

The young eunuch kept his eyes lowered beneath the lamplight:

“Your Highness is a pearl among brocade and silk. Even the most scheming nobles in the palace cannot be compared with these coarse, ignorant men with muddy feet—when Chang Jun’s family met disaster in his youth, the women who were forced into military camps or sent into exile suffered things unspeakable, enough to disturb Your Highness’s peaceful rest.”

The anger on Lizhu’s face gradually faded as she quietly watched Chang Jun.

“Your Highness once held noble status, everyone treated you with kindness. Now that you’ve fallen into hardship, with no one to rely on, naturally, all you see are the cruelest sides of human nature.”

“But sometimes,” he continued softly, “one must judge by deeds, not intent. To reach such a vile place and yet still be lustful but not lewd—one could still be called a gentleman, don’t you think, Your Highness?”

Chang Jun lifted his head, only to have his face grabbed and rubbed messily by Lizhu.

“You’re right about everything, Chang Jun. For your sake, I’ll be magnanimous and not hold a petty man’s faults against him.”

The young eunuch let out muffled sounds under her grasp.

“But,” Lizhu said with a smile, “there’s one thing you said wrong.”

When Chang Jun was preparing to return to his chamber, Lizhu, already lying down, mumbled drowsily:

“Those nobles who sit high in their stations……when they turn bad, that is when they are truly full of crimes.”

Chang Jun was momentarily surprised, then helplessly shook his head.

The princess was truly innocent and kind.

He blew out the lamp and quietly withdrew, closing the door.

• •—–٠✤٠—–•·

Meanwhile, on the other side, the small pavilion atop the mountain was brightly lit.

Gu Bing’an, who had descended the mountain in the afternoon, returned to Yushan and went straight to the small pavilion.

“……Zhang Changshi and Liu Hucao have both opened bids, the highest so far is one hundred and fifty gold, Shopkeeper Meng says there may be more, told me to wait another day, perhaps it can rise to two hundred gold.”

Three white-bone lamps hung in the inner chamber, making the room brightly lit.

Pei Zhaoye crossed his legs and, by the candlelight, carefully examined that scroll 《Rhapsody on the Capital of Yan》, smiled at what he heard:

“Not only that, since you say this piece 《Rhapsody on the Capital of Yan》 is written so well it can nearly pass as genuine, I think if we give Shopkeeper Meng a bit more time, the price can be raised further.”

Gu Bing’an did not understand: “Two hundred gold is already a great deal, even if it is an authentic piece, I fear it cannot be worth much more than that.”

“Does authenticity matter? Do you think he will buy it to appreciate himself？”

Pei Zhaoye smiled, though his eyes were cold:

“Even if he buys it for three hundred gold, holds a book gathering, there will be those willing to pay three thousand gold from his hands for this scroll 《燕都赋》, regardless of true or false.”

Only then did Gu Bing’an catch on.

The Household Registrar controls household registration, corvée, and agriculture and sericulture——all real power.

Those who want to bribe him but lack the proper channels are countless, from commoners trying to escape corvée to great clans attempting to conceal household registrations.

“These treacherous officials and corrupt clerks!” Gu Bing’an slammed the table and rose, “Nanyong has been ruined in the hands of these pests!”

He paced back and forth, cursing as he walked.

“Let the others be, but this 《Rhapsody on the Capital of Yan》 is precisely a lament for the suffering of the common people, a mourning for the soldiers at the frontier, a piece that hopes the court will unite to recover lost lands, and these people intend to use it for bribery. Shameful!”

“At this rate, the day Nanyong falls will not be far off!”

Gu Bing’an was full of sorrow and anger, while Pei Zhaoye remained composed, pressing his temple and saying calmly:

“I’m tired of hearing such words until my ears are callused, rest a bit, whether it falls or not has little to do with you, oh, I forgot, you can’t even serve as a petty clerk now.”

“The fate of the nation concerns every man!”

Pei Zhaoye patted his shoulder: “You’d better hope Nanyong falls sooner rather than later, if it does not fall, then it should be men like you, these thieves and bandits, who perish.”

“……”

Gu Bing’an gave up continuing that topic with him.

“Right, I almost forgot the important matter because you angered me.”

Slapping his forehead, Gu Bing’an finally remembered:

“Today when I came down the mountain, the people we placed in the Pei residence reported that yesterday several strangers came and went at the Pei residence, checked and they are not from Yiling Commandery, and then, Second Uncle of the Pei family went to the government office. Guess, what did he go to do？”

“How could he be doing anything else,” Pei Zhaoye said, “he must have gone to see his father-in-law, the commandant, to ask for help finding his son’s missing fiancée.”

Gu Bing’an straightened up, his tone meaningful: “You’re only half right.”

Pei Zhaoye lifted his eyelids.

“Pei family’s Second Uncle did go to see the commandant, and that commandant indeed sent men to every ferry in Yiling Commandery. However, the orders those constables received were not to search for someone, but to—”

“Arrest someone?”

“Exactly.”

A glint of amusement flickered in Pei Zhaoye’s eyes. “So, she was lying.”

As though already knowing what Pei Zhaoye was about to ask, Gu Bing’an continued: “The strangers who went to the Pei residence, we had people tail them. But they didn’t dare follow too closely, afraid to alert the snake in the grass. Mountain Lord… do you plan to go yourself?”

Pei Zhaoye’s fingers brushed lightly over the soft silk on the desk, his tone airy:

“Of course. If it’s a scalding yam in the hand, best to toss it early—might even fetch a good price while at it.”

A scalding yam?

Gu Bing’an pondered those words, thoughtful.

Could it be that this Madam Shen carried some hidden secret?

•—–٠✤٠—–•·

“…Madam Shen’s here! I saved you a seat, sit here!”

Early the next morning, just as Lizhu stepped into the inner hall led by the guide, she heard the loud, ringing voice of the third chief, Danzhu.

When she looked up, the once-noisy room had fallen silent. Dozens of gazes turned toward her all at once.

Her scalp tingled instantly.

Without daring to raise her head, Lizhu hobbled quickly on her crutch toward Danzhu’s side. Only then did she feel those silent, penetrating looks gradually withdraw.

Danzhu enthusiastically pulled her down to sit.

“This is our Hongye Stronghold’s dining hall. Usually at the hours of chen, wu, you, and zi¹ Chen (辰时) — roughly 7:00 a.m. to 9:00 a.m. | Wu (午时) — roughly 11:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. | You (酉时) — roughly 5:00 p.m. to 7:00 p.m. | Zi (子时) — roughly 11:00 p.m. to 1:00 a.m., there’s food—but you’ve got to come early! These men are all reincarnated hungry ghosts with bellies like barrels. When they start wolfing down like cattle, by the time it’s your turn, only the soup’s left… You smell so good! What balm are you using? So fragrant!”

“N-nothing special, just some ordinary bath beans…”

Lizhu shrank back as Danzhu grabbed her by the collar and sniffed deeply.

What kind of mountain stronghold was this, why were even the women acting like ruffians!

“How come your Mountain Lord isn’t here?” Chang Jun asked.

“The Mountain Lord? Said he had business, went down the mountain early this morning.”

Hearing that Pei Zhaoye wasn’t around, Lizhu’s mind began to stir again.

“Sister Danzhu,” she tilted her head, blinking playfully, “how long have you known the Mountain Lord?”

“Almost three years now.”

She counted on her fingers, then nodded.

“The stronghold was built in the seventeenth year of Mingzhao. It’s been three years now.”

Lizhu remembered—in the twenty-third year of Mingzhao, Pei Yinzhi entered officialdom.

Now it was the nineteenth year of Mingzhao—which meant, in four years’ time, Pei Zhaoye would leave Hongye Stronghold, and under the name Pei Yinzhi, uphold the Pei family’s honor.

Hongye Stronghold?

Why had she never heard of this stronghold in her past life, not even a single hint from Pei Yinzhi’s mouth?

“Then… you all truly live near this Yushan, paying no royal taxes, claiming the mountain as your own, living by plunder?”

At those words, several people turned their gazes toward her.

Realizing she had spoken rudely, Lizhu quickly added:

“I didn’t mean to criticize you. I know the times are hard now, you’ve all been forced to take to the mountains for your own reasons. It’s just that the life of bandits is one lived on the edge of a blade… Have you ever thought about what you’ll do in the future?”

“The future?”

A bearded man let out a snorting laugh.

“For us thieves, there’s no tomorrow! Who cares about this or that? I only know it’s a joy to eat meat and drink wine here, free from those damned high-and-mighty people’s airs!”

Lizhu was startled by the man’s booming voice and instinctively edged closer to Danzhu’s side.

Bracing herself, she said, “Good sirs, you’re all strong and in your prime—wouldn’t it be a waste to spend your youth like this? Now that Nanyong and Beiyue are constantly clashing, war will soon break out. Why not join the army instead…”

“Join the army? Join your damned army!”

Another man beside Danzhu shouted, “I escaped from the army! Don’t you know what those officers are like? All that bright silver pay gets sieved through layer after layer until there’s not a crumb left! Two years ago, when the Wuhuan rebelled in Shuozhou, we even had to pay out of our own pockets for armor!”

“I’m hoping the Beiyue army crosses the river soon! What does it matter who sits on the throne? Maybe under Beiyue’s emperor, we’d live better!”

At that, many chimed in agreement—and soon, they were all enthusiastically fantasizing about the good life of becoming subjects of Beiyue.

Lizhu had been too intimidated by their loud voices to speak, but at those words, she somehow found her courage again and burst out angrily:

“Delusional fools!”

The laughter and chatter ceased. All eyes turned toward her.

“Do you even know what kind of life the people of Nanyong’s eleven northern provinces are living under Beiyue rule? The Beiyue Emperor raises taxes to one in ten just to buy horses from the Wuhuan! And to gather women to send north, they fabricate false accusations, condemning innocent citizens to slavery!”

“You think it’s just about changing emperors, but don’t you see? The Beiyue Emperor is bargaining with the tiger itself! He’s bringing the wolf into his own house! When that time comes, do you really think you’ll live well? Whether southerners or northerners, all will end as corpses and slaves beneath the Wuhuan’s iron hooves!”

By the time she finished, Lizhu was breathless, her face flushed red.

Setting down her chopsticks, she rose sharply to her feet.

“Chang Jun, we’re leaving! I won’t share a meal with a roomful of cowards!”

The whole hall fell silent.

Gu Bing’an and the rest of the mountain bandits watched wordlessly as that proud, furious figure strode out.

Only once they were outside did Chang Jun come back to his senses.

He marveled in awe, “My lady, you were truly magnificent today—majestic and fierce…”

“Stop talking.”

Leaning on her crutch, Lizhu almost bounced in frustration as she urged: “Walk faster! I’m afraid they’ll chase us out and beat me up!”

Chang Jun: …

Out of fear of being beaten, ever since breakfast, Lizhu hadn’t dared to go to the dining hall for either the wu hour meal or the you hour meal.

Lizhu thought, it’ll be fine once Pei Zhaoye returns.

But she and Chang Jun sat staring at each other in the room for half a day, and still, there was no news of Pei Zhaoye’s return.

Her stomach growled until her ribs felt pressed together. In the end, she could only ask Chang Jun to sneak over to the dining hall when there were fewer people and bring her a meal.

She herself didn’t dare stay alone in the room, so she went to wait by the stronghold gate for Pei Zhaoye.

Unexpectedly, the one she met first was Gu Bing’an, Pei Zhaoye’s second-in-command.

“Madam Shen, waiting here—are you expecting the Mountain Lord’s return?”

Gu Bing’an smiled.

“That little attendant, I told him to stay and eat at the dining hall. This lunchbox is for you. Don’t worry, I’ve warned them. The Mountain Lord himself said you’re the future Mistress of the Stronghold; they wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you.”

Hearing the latter part, Lizhu finally relaxed a little.

She accepted the food box, thanked him, but didn’t start eating. Instead, she lifted her face and asked, “When will your Mountain Lord be back?”

Gu Bing’an was silent for a moment.

Inwardly he thought: You’d best not hope for his early return. If he does come back, he might just sell you off.

“…Not sure. If he’s quick, perhaps tonight. If not, tomorrow or the day after is possible.”

Lizhu nodded faintly, a little disappointed.

“Alright then. I’ll wait here.”

“Mountain nights are heavy with dew,” Gu Bing’an said. “If anything happens, Madam Shen, it’s better to wait inside.”

She looked up at him. “Thank you.”

But she had no intention of leaving.

Gu Bing’an had no choice but to let her be.

The sky gradually darkened. The brilliant red maples of daylight turned into a deep, blood-red hue under the dim evening light.

Gu Bing’an had been right—once night fell, Yushan truly grew colder, with the mountain dew thick and heavy. The chill made Lizhu’s teeth chatter uncontrollably.

Chang Jun brought over a lantern, and Lizhu used its faint warmth to keep herself from freezing.

A thin crescent moon slowly climbed up the branches.

Nanyong still had eleven years left in its fate.

She had once personally seen the combined armies of Beiyue and Wuhuan cross the river southward, trampling over the corpses of Nanyong’s people—but how could she possibly save this kingdom already teetering toward collapse?

No one had ever listened to her words.

She didn’t know how long had passed before footsteps came from below the long stone steps.

That person carried no light, yet walked unhurriedly through the darkness, stirring the faint fragrance of unknown flowers in the woods.

“…What are you doing sitting here in the middle of the night?”

Lizhu sensed someone crouch down in front of her.

When she opened her eyes, a pair of eyes—carrying a hint of amusement—were watching her sleeping face.

“Planning to run away while the sentries doze off? Or perhaps waiting for the darkness to ambush me on my way back?”

His smile was light, teasing, with an air of half-truth, half-mockery.

Inwardly, he thought: Could it be that Gu Bing’an let something slip, and this sly little lady has learned of my plans?

Yet the girl before him only sniffled softly, her eyes rimmed with red.

“Neither,” she said. “I was just waiting for you to come back.”

Waiting for the only person in this world who would truly listen to her words to return.

Pei Zhaoye froze in place.

Footnotes

• 1
  Chen (辰时) — roughly 7:00 a.m. to 9:00 a.m. | Wu (午时) — roughly 11:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. | You (酉时) — roughly 5:00 p.m. to 7:00 p.m. | Zi (子时) — roughly 11:00 p.m. to 1:00 a.m.