……Princess! What are you saying!

Xuan Ying was utterly shocked, wishing she could pull Lizhu out of the bandit chief’s arms with her gaze alone.

That arm loosely circling her slender waist, it could lift an eight-foot-tall strong man over the shoulder and knock him unconscious.

That long sword, held in a reverse grip, had just now easily cut off four or five arms.

Who could possibly bully him!

It was rather the princess, who had thrown herself into his embrace, her face peeking out from the cloak like morning dew — so frail, so delicate, as if a single finger could crush her to death.

Pei Zhaoye thought so too.

Fragile, timid, prone to tears — even a slightly raised voice could make her shiver all over.

Yet somehow, she was full of stubborn strength — crying as she propped herself up, still wanting to stand up for him…

Her soft hand pressed against his chest, and his fingertips, resting on her waist, sank in a little deeper.

Pei Zhaoye could not tell what it was he felt inside.

He only thought, with such a slender waist, she’d better not break herself trying to hold him up.

Xuan Ying caught sight of this scene, and her eyelid twitched.

“What did you mean by those words just now?”

Pei Zhaoye glanced at the pile of booklets in her arms and said, “Those dogs, don’t tell me they even wrote me into those rotten booklets?”

“…What do you mean rotten booklets, these are very important things.”

Pei Zhaoye: “Let me see.”

Lizhu widened her eyes and struggled out of his arms, instantly alert.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Before I finish reading them, no one is allowed to touch these things. I must examine them carefully and the one you’ve hidden in your boot, hand that over as well.”

Pei Zhaoye raised an eyebrow:

“You really are…”

Just a moment ago, she’d looked every bit the upright official ready to uphold justice for him and in the next, she was treating him like a criminal to be guarded against?

Her change of face was far too quick.

He pulled out the booklet and slapped it into her hand.

Weighing the pile of booklets in her arms, Lizhu’s arms ached from holding them, yet when Xuan Ying tried to take them for her, she shook her head and refused.

“Right,” Lizhu turned to ask Gu Bing’an, “how many people from Hongye Stronghold went down the mountain tonight?”

Gu Bing’an glanced at Pei Zhaoye. After receiving the latter’s silent consent, he bowed his head and replied:

“Including myself and Danzhu, there are fifty-three people in total. Any more, and we might alarm the county’s guards.”

Lizhu nodded in understanding.

“Princess.”

Xuan Ying finally couldn’t help but speak up:

“Young Master Xun… he must be badly injured. Since the Pei Manor has already been brought under control, why don’t I go ask the two madams in charge to summon the household physician to take a look at him?”

“Oh, right, right.”

Lizhu only then remembered, her expression turning solemn.

Tan Xun must not be allowed to meet with any mishap here.

“May I use some of your men?”

She asked Pei Zhaoye.

Pei Zhaoye sheathed his sword. “If you intend to use them to raid my own stronghold, that might be a bit difficult. Anything else, as you please.”

Lizhu blinked in confusion. “Why would I raid your stronghold?”

“The princess’s thoughts are deep and unfathomable. Who could say?”

He smiled faintly at her.

…So passive-aggressive.

Time was short, and Lizhu withdrew her gaze.

“Lu Yu, Chang Jun.”

The two men rose to receive orders.

Lizhu said, “Lu Yu, you and Danzhu will confiscate the remaining weapons from the manor’s servants. Those who surrender are to be bound; those who resist—warn them first, if they still refuse, kill without mercy. Guard the gates of Pei Manor closely, do not allow anyone to leave at will. Anyone found transmitting messages is to be seized immediately.”

“Lu Yu receives the order.”

“Chang Jun—” Lizhu turned to the young eunuch holding his arm. “You’ll be in charge of guarding the inner quarters and calming the womenfolk. Avoid using force if possible, but also confiscate sharp objects like scissors from their rooms. Do not be careless.”

“Chang Jun understands.”

Lizhu then looked to Xuan Ying.

Xuan Ying had already dragged out an empty chest from the room, to store those booklets for the princess.

She said, “Is the princess planning to stay up through the night?”

Lizhu nodded.

“Xuan Ying understands. I’ll find a physician for Young Master Xun, arrange meals and rest shifts for the guards, and find a few maidservants to tidy up the study the princess will use tonight… All these trifles, Xuan Ying will see to. The princess need not worry.”

Xuan Ying was no braggart.

In less than a quarter of an hour, when Danzhu arrived, the Pei Manor—once drenched in blood—was already operating in an orderly manner.

Some were cleaning up the corpses, some were counting the weapons and blades, and a cook whose legs had gone weak was being half-dragged toward the kitchen — said to be preparing breakfast for everyone come morning.

Danzhu hooked an arm around Chang Jun’s shoulder, sighing in admiration:

“What a mighty and dignified lady official! Looks like she’s more disciplined than our Hongye Stronghold lot. Eh, one’s a lady official, one’s a Commandant of the Guards — then what are you supposed to be?”

The thin-skinned little eunuch’s face turned cold as he brushed her hand away. “…None of your business.”

On the other side, a maidservant of the Pei Manor came trembling to report that the study had been tidied up and requested the princess to move there.

Lizhu answered softly, preparing to carry the chest over herself.

“Mm—”

Pei Zhaoye couldn’t help but laugh as he looked at her flushed face, crouching slightly to ask, “Do you want me to help?”

Lizhu used all her strength. “I can… never mind, I can’t. You do it.”

The next moment, she watched Pei Zhaoye lift the chest easily with one arm, tucking it into the crook of his elbow.

“Let’s go.”

Lizhu stared, speechless, and followed behind him.

At the third quarter of the yin hour, the moon hung slanted on the horizon, a faint pale mark like one pinched out by a fingernail.

Servants in the manor were forbidden from wandering; the stone lanterns in the courtyard had been extinguished. Only the maid leading the way carried a small lamp, casting a hazy, misted light ahead.

“The cobblestones here are slippery, watch your step.”

Hearing his reminder, Lizhu remembered that he had grown up in the Pei Manor and would naturally be familiar with every tree and blade of grass here.

“Oh.”

Lizhu reached out and pinched the sleeve of his robe.

Feeling the gentle tug at his cuff, Pei Zhaoye paused for a moment and turned his head to look at her.

She was lifting her skirt and keeping her eyes on the ground, saying without looking up, “Don’t you dare touch my booklets while I’m not paying attention.”

The hand that had just pushed open a crack of the chest withdrew immediately.

She did know him well.

Pei Zhaoye said, “I thought you wouldn’t be able to handle something like this. Didn’t expect that when you actually take charge, you’re clear-headed and decisive in killing.”

“What do you mean take charge?”

“Your commands just now, assigning people to seize control of the whole manor.”

In the darkness, Lizhu couldn’t tell which direction they were going. The hand that had been clutching his sleeve slid into the crook of his arm instead.

His arm was too thick; her small hand could only rest on top of it, pressed close.

She did it so naturally, without a trace of hesitation, as though she had already done it a thousand times before.

Pei Zhaoye suddenly drifted off in thought.

Had she and that fiancé of hers ever walked arm in arm like this, strolling together through the palace gardens of Luoyang?

“That’s nothing. A palace coup, that’s what you’d call truly serious.”

Lizhu interrupted his wandering thoughts.

“…At your age, when have you ever seen a palace coup?”

He asked.

Lizhu paused for a moment.

“I’ve heard about them since I was little — the struggle of the Five Princes, the burning of Yandu, the capital’s relocation to Luoyang. My father, the Emperor, and the Grand Tutor would tell me those stories. When I was a child, whenever thunder rumbled in the sky, I thought someone was crashing into the palace gates, coming to force the throne… Later on, I just stopped being afraid.”

“Later? Why not afraid anymore?”

He turned his head and saw the girl lift her face, smiling at him without speaking.

After a long moment, she finally said, “I just wasn’t afraid anymore, that’s all.”

Who knew what she was smiling foolishly about.

Pei Zhaoye looked away, but then suddenly came to a halt.

“What’s wrong?”

Several side rooms by the water were bathed in the dim night light; the smell of blood hadn’t reached here, and only the faint scent of osmanthus drifted on the wind.

Pei Zhaoye said, “Nothing.”

But Lizhu’s thoughts turned, and she asked the maid leading the way,

“What place is this?”

“These are the quarters of the male servants and attendants. Ah Ye— that is, Lord Pei — used to live here.”

Pei Zhaoye swept his gaze over her. The maid was indeed a familiar face from the manor.

“Ah Ye?”

Lizhu seemed thoughtful. “So that’s what they used to call you?”

He gave a vague hum, not intending to say more — when suddenly the girl’s eyes lit up.

“Let’s not go to the study anymore! Let’s read the booklets in the place you used to live!”

Pei Zhaoye’s pupils constricted.

Before he could stop her, Lizhu had already, full of excitement, ordered the maid to lead the way ahead — even asking whether anyone else was living there now.

Upon hearing that no one had moved in and the place was merely used for storing odds and ends, Lizhu grew even more intrigued.

However, the moment she pushed the door open—

“Cough, cough, cough!”

Dust fell straight down, covering Lizhu from head to toe.

The maid hurried to brush the dirt off her. “This place hasn’t been lived in for a long time, P–Princess should move to the front courtyard study instead…”

“No need. I’ll stay here.”

Lizhu stepped into the room and indeed saw piles of clutter stacked in all four corners.

Fortunately, there was still a desk and an oil lamp — that was enough for her.

From the doorway, Pei Zhaoye spoke coldly:

“If you’re not afraid of rats gnawing your feet in the middle of the night, then by all means, stay.”

Lizhu’s expression changed at once.

Rats?

Why would rats gnaw her feet!

“…You’re trying to scare me. That’s impossible — it’s nearly the mao hour (5:00 a.m. – 7:00 a.m.) already, once it’s light out there won’t be any rats.”

She gave a small huff and, once inside, began looking around with curiosity.

Pei Zhaoye watched as she stepped over the floor he had once walked on, saw her fingers brush over the low cabinet, the screen he had used, and even sit down on the small couch where he had once slept.

His throat bobbed; a strange feeling churned deep within him.

She opened the cabinet door, as if peeling open his inner garments.

She touched the objects he had once used, as though she were tracing the skin of his body, little by little.

It was dangerous.

A beast in the mountains would never allow its den to be exposed, even if that den had long been abandoned.

A keen hunter could smell his weakness. He would be laid bare, helpless, unable to strike back.

Yet just as the sense of danger crawled up his spine, he felt another wild impulse rise from deep inside —

——He actually wanted her to touch his weakness.

The bean-sized flame of the oil lamp reflected in his dark eyes.

Lizhu didn’t notice anything amiss.

She gave the room a quick once-over; perhaps too much time had passed, for she found nothing that still bore any trace of Pei Zhaoye’s presence.

Time was pressing, and she didn’t linger. The maid brought her a clean cushion and wiped down the desk. Under the lamplight, Lizhu began to read.

“There’s no need for anything else. Go to the study and bring me more bamboo slips.”

The contents recorded in those booklets were vast and disorganized; she needed to copy and compile them onto bamboo slips to make sense of the current situation of Yiling County’s officialdom.

The maid acknowledged the order and left the courtyard.

“…You’re so at ease being alone with me?”

As the footsteps faded, Pei Zhaoye suddenly spoke.

“You’re investigating the crimes of the entire Yiling County. Now that your guards aren’t here, if I wanted to make a move against you—”

“Lend a hand?”

Lizhu was completely absorbed in the contents of the booklets and only vaguely caught that one phrase.

“No need, I can manage by myself. But if you’re really that idle, you can grind ink for me, I suppose.”

Pei Zhaoye: “……”

Lizhu paid no attention to his expression and kept reading.

【Third day of the third month, year of Bingxu: County constable Xue Wu of Zhao County bribed Liu Heng, the Yiling Household Officer, with three hundred gold to conceal 1,370 refugees.】

…Her temper flared, though Lizhu forced herself to keep calm.

【Fifth day of the ninth month, year of Dingmao: A selected beauty was delivered to the Assistant Administrator of Hezhou, later gifted to Grand Censor Xu Mengxuan, who kept her in his outer residence in Luoyang. She bore him three sons and one daughter.】

What!

Madam Xu Mengxuan was notorious in Luoyang for her fierce jealousy, and he actually dared to keep a concubine outside—bearing four children, no less!

Lizhu’s eyes widened in disbelief.

If this spread through Luoyang, the people there would have enough gossip to last a month.

Wait—

Xu Mengxuan.

A confidential booklet from the Pei Manor.

And in her previous life, Pei Zhaoye had only just arrived in Luoyang to assume office when he received lavish praise from Xu Mengxuan.

“Pei Zhaoye!”

Lizhu suddenly called out his name in anger.

The man, who had been leaning forward and grinding ink beside her, lifted his gaze.

“…Do you have any idea how much of a fool you’ve made me look in front of others?”

Pei Zhaoye was briefly stunned, then chuckled.

“That, I truly do not know. May I ask the princess to enlighten me?”

Enlighten him, her foot!

Lizhu remembered the rumors from her previous life — that though he lacked talent, he had somehow earned Xu Mengxuan’s praise, surely by seizing hold of some secret and using it to threaten him.

Lizhu had been so indignant upon hearing that, she had immediately ordered Xuan Ying to halt her palanquin on the palace road and publicly rebuked that official, humiliating him before everyone.

And in the end, those people had been telling the truth!!

Pei Zhaoye must have gotten hold of these very same booklets in his past life.

No wonder that as a man from humble origins, he had risen through the ranks so swiftly; though without a powerful teacher, he had navigated the court with ease, thriving like a fish in water.

Thinking of how she had once so righteously defended him before all the ministers and nobles, Lizhu was mortified to the point her toes curled tight with shame.

“I don’t want to explain anything to you, and I don’t want to talk to you. I hate you.”

Lizhu blurted it out in anger.

Across from her, there was silence for two breaths.

“Is it because of that booklet?”

Lizhu stared at him in disbelief.

“What’s written in that booklet?”

Pei Zhaoye’s gaze was deep. “Does it write of my background? The people I’ve killed? The things I’ve done these years? So, you hate me for that? And you don’t want to…”

Don’t want to stand up for me anymore.

Lizhu froze for a long while.

“What are you mumbling about?”

Holding her brush, she stared blankly.

“I just hate you right now, not forever. You’ve been making a fool out of me, and now you won’t even let me stay angry for a while — isn’t that too much?”

Was this man even capable of reasoning?

Pei Zhaoye: “…When did I ever make a fool out of you?”

“Never mind, you just did. You will make a fool out of me later.”

Lizhu was so angry she didn’t want to look at him.

“Is the Pei family made up of immortals or something? This booklet even records future events?”

A trace of laughter surfaced in his eyes.

“Does it say anything else about me in there?”

Lizhu lifted her gaze and glared at him. “What else have you been hiding from me?”

He touched his chin, smiling as he looked at her pretty face filled with annoyance and reproach.

“I’m thinking of kissing you right now. Does that count?”

“…?”