In Pei Zhaoye’s short life of no more than nineteen years, many people had spoken of him.

Some said he was a bastard.

Some cursed him as a scoundrel colluding with corrupt officials.

Even among the brothers who followed him in Hongye Stronghold, they regarded him as a a calculating, ambitious man rather than any sort of great hero.

He had never once thought that someone would put that word together with him.

Pei Zhaoye very much wanted to see a trace of flattery or pretentiousness on her face.

However, there was none.

That kind of clear and sincere gaze — even if it were looking at a heinous sinner — could make one dazedly feel that perhaps, maybe, possibly… they were not so bad after all.

But he was, in fact, an unbridled bandit.

Smuggling private salt, taking to the mountains as an outlaw, weaving among the officials of Yiling Commandery to gain profit.

That surely could not be called good.

But was it bad? How bad could it be?

From the moment he came into this world, he had never used benevolence or morality as the measure for his thoughts.

He sought only survival — to live longer, to live more like a person — even if it meant biting, even if it meant killing, he never hesitated.

He never thought there was anything wrong with that, nor did he ever feel shame.

Then why was it that her single sentence could make him so pleased with himself, his heart surging like boiling water, beyond control?

Pei Zhaoye looked at her face, smooth and glowing with a pearly sheen beneath the lamplight, and for a moment found it hateful.

Who allowed her to presumptuously guess at him, to set him upon a pedestal that did not belong to him, that he had never dared to covet?

Yet in the next instant, he could not help but find her adorable.

Because no matter how he denied, how he resisted. To be regarded as a hero, to be gazed at with such sincere, unadorned eyes, would always make a man’s pride swell uncontrollably.

This would not do.

How could he let her single sentence tangle his heart into such a mess?

Pei Zhaoye’s gaze moved from her eyes, brushed past her petal-like lips, and finally settled upon her pale, slender neck.

He had no intention of pretending to be any hero.

He was a shameless bandit — a thief’s heart, a thief’s courage, a thief’s bones — yet even so, whether she wished it or not, she already belonged to him.

The fingers resting on the changpu twitched slightly.

Beside him, Chang Jun held his breath, cold sweat beading on his forehead, staring intently at that hand that had just shown a faint movement.

There was a subtle sound of blade leaving sheath.

Lizhu sensed the strange air that suddenly filled the inner chamber, but she did not understand where this heavy undercurrent came from.

Had she said something wrong?

Her lashes lowered slightly as she looked at that hand which was about to touch her, yet for some reason suddenly stopped before her neck.

Pei Zhaoye’s gaze shifted slightly toward the doorway.

There were footsteps approaching from the next room.

He was about to be on guard, but just as his attention wandered for an instant, his wrist was suddenly grasped and pulled forward — his palm pressing against a soft, delicate cheek.

Pei Zhaoye swiftly withdrew his gaze, startled, meeting Lizhu’s calm and forthright expression head-on.

She blinked, as if to say—

If you want to touch, then touch. What are you hesitating for?

Chang Jun’s sword trembled in his hand. The next instant, the small door behind them was suddenly pushed open.

“Impudent woman! How dare you make reckless remarks about the salt administration!”

Lizhu was so startled by the shout that she immediately knelt and crawled behind Pei Zhaoye without hesitation.

If the sky were to fall, he would be the one to hold it up.

Looking again, there were four or five people at the doorway. Though the light inside the room was dim, their clothing was far from ordinary—clearly not common folk.

Pei Zhaoye fixed his gaze on their faces, faintly recognizing a familiar one among them.

It seemed… to be someone under the Yiling Assistant Prefect’s command.

Chang Jun asked sternly, “Who are you people!”

The tall, thin man barked, “Insolence! It’s not your place to ask questions here. You’ll answer instead! That woman—was it you just now, spreading wicked talk and stirring up trouble?”

Lizhu, hidden in the shadows, was completely at a loss under his interrogation.

“I… When did I ever spread rumors or stir up trouble…”

“Still dare to argue! Just now you were speaking of private salt trading, even fearmongering about rebellion and oppression of the people! Our Yiling Commandery enjoys clear governance and harmony, where would rampant private salt come from? If that’s not slander, what is it!”

Hearing this long tirade, Chang Jun suddenly recognized the voice.

Back at the staircase earlier, this was the same man who had said, “Anyone connected to salt, how could they not have great influence?”

Chang Jun’s eyes flicked back and forth between him and Pei Zhaoye.

This man clearly knew exactly what dealings the mountain lord was involved in, what blatant lying with eyes wide open!

After speaking, the tall, thin man also glanced at Pei Zhaoye, who was leaning against the low table.

Though rumors had long said that this mountain lord was very young, seeing it with his own eyes still left him somewhat surprised.

It wasn’t often one got the chance to curry favor with a person of such standing.

To conveniently clear away a short-sighted woman on his behalf, what an easy way to sell a small favor.

Everyone in the room harbored their own thoughts.

Only Lizhu, knowing neither Pei Zhaoye’s true identity nor that these men wished to ingratiate themselves with him, was completely unaware.

She froze for a moment, then came back to her senses, indignantly saying, “It wasn’t me who said private salt was rampant! Why accuse only me of slander and not him?”

The tall, thin man snorted inwardly. Ignorant woman, she still didn’t understand the situation.

“We didn’t hear anyone else say it, we only heard you!”

Lizhu was so infuriated by his shamelessness that she nearly fumed smoke from her seven orifices, wanting nothing more than to pounce and scratch his face apart!

She wanted to argue, but then thought better of it—given her and Pei Zhaoye’s current circumstances, it was best to stay low-profile when out in the world and not provoke conflict.

Lizhu’s fiery temper instantly cooled by seven or eight parts, and she could only grit her back teeth and say, sulkily:

“…Then fine, say it was me. I’ll apologize, alright?”

“Apologize? I’m afraid it’s not that sim—”

“What’s there to apologize for? Everything she said was the truth.”

Pei Zhaoye leaned back leisurely, watching as the few men before him suddenly froze, and smiled calmly.

“From Yiling all the way to Hezhou, isn’t private salt exactly what’s rampant?”

The tall, thin man: “…”

What did this mountain lord mean by that?

All at once, an arm slipped around Lizhu’s waist from behind. The man’s palm was broad, resting at the hollow of her waist, easily covering half of it.

With a slight pull, the startled Lizhu was drawn into his burning embrace.

She looked up, meeting the teasing smile on his face.

“Not only is private salt rampant,” he continued, “but more importantly, the next step of such trade is collusion between officials and merchants, secret exchanges, bribery, lawlessness—these smugglers of private salt are practically shaking the very foundation of the state. Why shouldn’t it be said?”

Lizhu nodded in his arms.

Exactly, exactly.

It was all true! What couldn’t be said about it?

The men across from them exchanged confused glances.

Was he… playing with them?

There was no foolish woman standing before the salt bandit spouting righteousness at all. The two were clearly performing in tandem, this mountain lord must have eaten his fill and decided to toy with this woman for amusement!

From the adjoining room came a voice, faintly amused.

“I told you all you were meddling, disturbing Lord Pei’s pleasure. What are you still standing there for? Hurry and apologize to Lord Pei and be done with it.”

Pei Zhaoye lowered his eyes to the wine in his cup.

So Zhao Weizhen was indeed here.

Hearing that voice, Lizhu’s lashes trembled. She straightened from his arms.

These people… knew him?

Then why had they suddenly turned on her earlier?

Were they trying to curry favor for someone’s sake?

Lizhu looked toward the man beside her, her gaze subtly shifting.

A few among the group, quick to act, had already fetched wine and cups from the next room. With awkward smiles, they bowed and offered drinks to Pei Zhaoye.

He did not refuse. Smiling faintly, he drank, then said toward the adjoining room, “Lord Assistant Prefect speaks too heavily. I was the one who happened to take your usual seat today, it should be I offering an apology.”

Zhao Weizhen replied, “No need for such words. First come, first served. There’s no question of whose seat it is. Lord Pei, please make yourself comfortable.”

“Lord Assistant Prefect is kind to those below him. We, however, cannot be discourteous. The meal is nearly done anyway. Chang Jun, go call someone to clear the table and make space for the Assistant Prefect. We’ll take our leave first.”

Having said this, Pei Zhaoye did not look at Lizhu’s doubtful eyes. He merely gave her waist a light, teasing pat, motioning for her to walk ahead.

Lizhu swept her gaze across the mixed expressions in the room without saying a word.

In the shadows, she put on her veiled hat, then turned and stepped into the light of the lamps.

“Excuse us.”

The young girl’s voice was clear and gentle, her whole body surrounded by a faint, delicate fragrance.

The crowd made way for her, yet their gazes followed her figure, nearly piercing through the gauze hat in an attempt to glimpse the face beneath.

Pei Zhaoye walked behind her.

Whether intentionally or not, as he passed one of the men who had been staring too intently, his shoulder collided hard with the man’s, nearly knocking him off balance.

“Lord Pei.”

At the edge of the staircase, Zhao Weizhen lifted the curtain of the private room and stepped out.

“It’s rare to see you accompanied by a lady. Since that’s the case, you won’t be allowed to decline the next banquet.”

Pei Zhaoye instinctively glanced at Lizhu’s retreating back.

He smiled in reply.

Only after the two had left did one of the officials step forward and say, “Of all times, at this critical moment, a woman suddenly appears at Pei Zhaoye’s side. Assistant Prefect, do you think this could be…”

Thinking of the topic they had discussed earlier, Zhao Weizhen twirled his beard.

“Immediately send word to the Prefect, and summon Captain Xu Bi. Tell him to deploy his men at once, under no circumstances are they to let them leave Xiangcheng!”

“Yes, sir!”

While the people upstairs began to move, Lizhu downstairs also quickened her pace, her brisk walk turning into a small run.

“Quickly, quickly, Chang Jun, walk faster—don’t look back!”

The night had deepened. Few people remained along the long street of Xiangcheng.

A man in dark clothing followed behind them at a distance neither near nor far, watching the girl’s back with a faint smile.

Chang Jun withdrew his gaze, still confused, and asked, “Madam, where are we going now? Also… aren’t you waiting for the mountain lord—”

Lizhu stopped abruptly.

“You should be asking him!” She took a deep breath, spun around, and glared furiously. “Where else can we go? Pei Zhaoye, you tell me.”

The moon shone over the long street, the bluestone pavement glimmering with a dim azure sheen.

It was the first time she had called his full name.

Pei Zhaoye saw a glimmer of tears within her anger.

He said carelessly, “Weren’t you the one who wanted to stay and watch the hundred plays tonight before returning to Yushan? Have you changed your mind already?”

“Is that so?” Lizhu stepped closer, fixing her gaze on him. “Is it returning to Yushan or to the Yiling Commandery office?”

Pei Zhaoye gave a low laugh.

“What do you think? You’re so clever, you could tell just from a few words that the situation was turning dangerous. Can’t you figure out that if I really wanted to hand you over to the authorities, I’d have done it back at the city gate? Why bother running all over the place with you all day? You ought to speak with some conscience.”

Lizhu held back her tears and said nothing.

Chang Jun interjected quickly, “Madam, don’t be too trusting! Lu Yu said even prisoners bound for execution get treated to a fine meal before they’re beheaded!”

Pei Zhaoye shot him a cold, indifferent glance.

Lizhu’s heart was a tangled mess.

She knew, deep down, that he was right. At the city gate earlier, and just now before Zhao the Assistant Prefect—if he had meant to betray her, he already would have.

But he hadn’t.

But, but—

How could he really be as Lu Yu had said, so close with those officials?

What decent official would keep such frequent company with a bandit, even drinking together so often?

And all those times he socialized with them, what exactly did they discuss?

In her past life, he would often rest his head upon her knees, speaking of which minister at court opposed him, or which faction’s lackey had tripped him up.

Every time she heard such words, Lizhu felt deep pity for him, and sometimes, even in their moments of intimacy, she would indulge him more because of it.

Yet today she suddenly realized—

How was it that he could not handle those officials?

He could, as a mere bandit, sit as an equal to an Assistant Prefect, second only to the Prefect himself—conversing easily and at leisure. He was clearly smooth and capable, long-sleeved and adept in every direction!

“You…” Lizhu sniffled, just about to speak—

When suddenly she lifted her head and caught a shadow flashing through the night, rushing toward Pei Zhaoye’s back—

“Wait!”

Lizhu recognized him at once.

It was Lu Yu.

She had already heard of his martial skill back on the boat—rumored to be one of the finest among the Imperial Guards, unmatched across all of Luoyang.

Without thinking further, Lizhu threw herself toward Pei Zhaoye, shielding him with her body.

“Lu Yu! Don’t hurt him!”

Pei Zhaoye stiffened as she crashed into his arms, instinctively wrapping her in his embrace.

Lowering his eyes, he saw that only a moment ago her gaze had been filled with anger and vigilance—yet now, faced with danger, there was only raw, genuine worry.

She clutched tightly at his robe, as though terrified that if she let go, he would truly die.

The figure with the raised blade halted, then frowned and said:

“Ma—Madam, I saw from the rooftop that two teams of guards from South Street are heading this way. If we don’t leave now, there’ll be no escape!”

“What?” Lizhu, startled, didn’t have time to think and immediately said, “Alright, I’ll go with you!”

But just as her words fell, countless footsteps echoed from every direction at the far end of the long street—driving away civilians and closing in step by step.

Chang Jun and Lu Yu both felt a chill spread through their hearts.

There were at least four to five hundred soldiers here.

Even with their small group, and the twenty or so hidden men in the dark, escape was impossible.

“Shen Lizhu.”

Through tearful eyes, Lizhu turned, meeting a handsome face wearing a faint, easy smile.

“Will you trust me once more?”

…What did he mean by that?

While Lizhu still stood bewildered, a broad, warm hand rubbed the top of her head before straightening up.

Pei Zhaoye looked toward Lu Yu ahead and said, “Weren’t you about to ambush me just now? Go on, continue.”

Lu Yu was keeping watch on the guards gradually approaching; at the words he turned his head inexplicably to glance, but unexpectedly what he saw was a swift fist striking at him.

“You—!”

Caught off guard and taking the blow, Lu Yu’s face darkened.

“You really are in league with them.”

Pei Zhaoye smiled without speaking.

Lizhu could not understand why, with enemies at the gate, the two of them suddenly began to fight. She grabbed Chang Jun:

“Chang Jun! Go stop them, will you? Must you have an internal quarrel at a time like this?”

Then she hurriedly warned Lu Yu:

“Lu Yu! Hold back! Don’t really beat him to injury or death! Hear me?”

Although Lu Yu had long been full of anger toward this man, he dared not disobey Lizhu’s command; he only said:

“Understood, I will leave him—”

Before he could finish speaking, Lizhu watched with wide eyes as her husband—who was always weak, claimed to know only theory and not real combat, who even needed her to feed him candied medicine—drove a fist that would befit a first-rate Imperial Guard into a nearby stall.

Boom—!

Dust rose, sleeves fluttered.

The man in dark clothing slowly withdrew his hand; apart from the red-gold ring on the small braid in his hair swaying, he seemed utterly unperturbed, as if it had cost him no effort at all.

He turned his head slightly, looked at Lizhu and raised an eyebrow with a smile:

“You don’t have to always worry I’ll die now, do you?”

“……”

Lizhu thought, indeed she no longer worried.

Now she more wanted to personally slap him to death.