The hot breath by his ear made him dizzy. Her voice was at his ear, like sleep talk, unreal.

It took Pei Zhaoye a good while to understand what she had said.

Most of the time, he felt this little princess from Luoyang had a kind of pedantic, bookish naivety.

But occasionally, like at this moment, he suspected her previous kindness and ignorance of worldly affairs were all an act.

Otherwise, how could she, relying on just a few words, relentlessly drill her way into his heart?

Simply impossible to block, impossible to stop, and he did not know how to stop it.

“……Is this the same, little princess? You didn’t walk here yourself. You were a fragrant melon forcibly twisted off, slippery and hard to hold, tumbling all the way, finally tumbling onto my path.”

The weight on his back was very light.

Yet Pei Zhaoye, looking at the road ahead, inexplicably slowed his steady steps, each step taken with great seriousness.

“This isn’t called meeting. This is called ‘mountains and waters have their meeting.’ After meeting, the mountains do not turn, the waters flow; Yushan remains here, but Yan River will surge majestically, flow around the mountain, and once gone, does not turn back.”

When he thought she was a royal clan daughter from Luoyang before, he did not want to invite trouble.

Now, knowing she is Emperor Mingzhao’s most favored Qinghe Princess, he knew even more that he could not keep her.

Those words spoken at Hongye Stronghold, about agreeing to his marriage proposal, about raising cats with him in the future, he only took as a young girl’s whim.

Some words, the moment they are spoken, being true is enough; they do not necessarily have to be realized.

Yet the young girl on his back seemed not to hear his implied meaning.

“Who says so?”

Lizhu said in a light tone:

“The Lun Heng¹Lun Heng is a classical Chinese text written by Wang Chong (27– c. 100 AD) during the Eastern Han Dynasty. says, ‘Rain comes from the earth, not from the sky. Seeing rain gather from above, we say it comes from the sky, but in reality, it is from the earth.’— how can Yan River dash and flow without turning back? When rain falls upon the mortal world, it meets again on Yushan just the same.”

Pei Zhaoye heard her laugh.

She said: “I told you to read more books.”

What kind of heretical doctrine was she reading.

Pei Zhaoye glanced up at the sky.

Even the King of Heaven came, rain still falls under the jurisdiction of the Dragon King in the temple.

He carried her from the three gates to outside the kitchen before setting her down. Lizhu was somewhat surprised.

Pei Zhaoye, while rolling up his sleeves, said: “The Pei family’s cook has been the same old routines for over a decade. Those few dishes aren’t anything good to eat.”

“You are going to cook personally?”

He brought a plate of pastries from the kitchen for her to fill her stomach, but when he turned back, he saw her looking at him with a particularly reminiscent gaze.

Reminiscent?

He is cooking, what is she feeling reminiscent about?

“Is there anything you want to eat?”

Lizhu took the pastries, pressed her lips into a smile and said: “Anything you make is fine.”

Pei Zhaoye stared at her.

Where did she learn to have such a sweet mouth?

It had been many years since Pei Zhaoye’s death in her previous life since she last tasted food he prepared.

While he was busy cooking, Lizhu did not idle either. She had someone bring over the ledgers she hadn’t finished reading last night and continued reading them here.

“…Is Your Highness puzzled as to why this Lord Shi Zhao was still a Chief Inspector in the fourteenth year of Mingzhao, but by the sixteenth year of Mingzhao had become a County Magistrate?”

Lizhu looked up, only then realizing Gu Bing’an had also arrived at some point.

Seeing Lizhu look over, he was about to bow respectfully when Lizhu stopped him.

“You tell me, why?”

Gu Bing’an smiled: “Because we have two Shi Zhaos here.”

Lizhu understood suddenly, then took the ledger and asked him:

“This record states that in the fifteenth year of Mingzhao, this Lord Shi Zhao embezzled fifty percent of the funds for the river embankment. I vaguely recall that in the sixteenth year of Mingzhao, there were constant floods in various regions, countless disaster victims, and the court spent four hundred thousand coins and two hundred dan of grain just for relief. But in my memory, among the several commanderies and counties requiring disaster relief, Yiling Commandery was not included. Why is that?”

The money for repairing the river embankment was embezzled, yet when the great flood came, there were no disaster victims. This was indeed strange.

Hearing these words, Gu Bing’an’s expression showed obvious surprise.

“Events from four or five years ago, Your Highness actually remembers so clearly?”

Chang Jun interjected: “Never mind four or five years, even if it’s ten or fifteen years ago, any documents or records Her Highness has read, she reads ten lines at a glance and never forgets what she has seen.”

Gu Bing’an lifted his gaze and glanced at Lizhu swiftly.

When he was first educated in the village school as a child, he saw that, starting from some unknown date, a few girls had appeared among his classmates.

Upon asking, he learned that that year, Emperor Mingzhao had exceptionally permitted Qinghe Princess to enter the Lan Terrace [Imperial library/archives] to receive her initial education from the Grand Preceptor himself. Those above set the example, those below follow; many commoners in the villages with means used this as a precedent, bringing tuition gifts, also wanting to send their own daughters to school.

Although most of these girls only stayed in the village school until around ten years old, having read a few books like the “Book of Songs” or “Essential Training for Beginners” before being sent home.

But at that time, it caused quite a stir among the people, with much discussion and controversy for a while.

Gu Bing’an remembered hearing classmates discuss back then: If the princess wanted an education, couldn’t she just find a teacher and study casually in her own chambers?

Entering the Lan Terrace, becoming a disciple of the Grand Preceptor, receiving the same treatment as a prince—unprecedented in all antiquity.

Even he, at the time, thought not without jealousy:

Using such a great talent to teach a princess, isn’t that using a butcher’s knife to kill a chicken?

He never realized his own insight was so limited.

Mentioning government affairs from four or five years ago so casually and remembering them so clearly, this princess’s studies at the Lan Terrace were likely no less profound than those of the students in the Imperial Academy.

“That year in Yiling Commandery, indeed, the riverways burst their banks in three counties, affecting over ten thousand common people.”

“Over ten thousand?”

Lizhu was astonished.

“Correct,” Gu Bing’an glanced at that ledger. “If Your Highness flips further, you might even find a record of a banquet hosted by the Chief Inspector at the Pei residence, entertaining the Governor of Hezhou.”

Lizhu immediately flipped through and indeed found the name of the Governor of Hezhou later on.

A regional governor, attending a secret meeting with the Chief Inspector of Yiling, who held supervisory duties, accepting a bribe of one thousand gold.

“And how was this matter resolved within the commandery?”

“Over ten thousand disaster victims, how to resolve it? After the great disaster, these commoners’ household wealth and stored grain were completely wiped out. They could only sell their land and themselves to survive. The land fell into the hands of powerful families, free citizens became household slaves and tenant farmers. But the powerful families couldn’t absorb such a large number of disaster victims either, so there was unrest—”

Gu Bing’an’s eyes were somber, his expression seeming to hold hidden pain.

Lizhu suddenly understood something and glanced toward the kitchen.

The stove fire was blazing. The young bandit leader stood before the great fire, calmly tossing the iron wok.

Danzhu below added firewood and worked the bellows for him. Accidentally, the fire grew too strong, singeing a bit of his hair ends. Pei Zhaoye gave her a cold sidelong glance. Danzhu slapped her thigh and laughed heartily.

“Great disaster in the sixteenth year of Mingzhao. In the seventeenth year of Mingzhao, Hongye Stronghold was built on Yushan.”

Lizhu withdrew her gaze, looking at him quietly: “So, the largest salt smugglers in the Hezhou area are you all.”

Apart from trafficking illegal salt, Lizhu could not think of a second method to support so many disaster victims without rebelling.

Hearing this, Gu Bing’an finally slowly raised his eyes to look directly at the princess before him.

He clasped his hands and performed a deep bow:

“At that time, it was a moment of life and death. For survival, it was truly helpless. I have read some books of poetry and history, and also served as a minor clerk in the county government office for a few years. I understand that the state monopoly on salt and iron is a major policy crucial to the survival of the entire nation! If we had a way to survive, why would we engage in this trade of licking blood off knife blades?”

Lizhu had not expected him to say this.

Previously, his speech had mostly been gentle and refined. This was the first time she had seen him enunciate forcefully, his tone resolute.

She steadied his arm: “Please rise first…”

“Your Highness!”

Instead, Gu Bing’an grasped Lizhu’s arm. “During your time at Hongye Stronghold, did you ever see the Hongye Stronghold bandits rob homes or violate women?”

“That, I have not…”

“Although we have turned to banditry, we are not scoundrels who bully the weak and shirk labor! Among us, there are many righteous men full of passionate loyalty to the nation, with nowhere to direct it!”

Lizhu, held by him, was stunned and dared not move: “But that day in the stronghold’s dining hall…”

“Hongye Stronghold has over two thousand people, not to mention the three villages attached to the stronghold on Yushan. How could they represent everyone? If Your Highness has time, I can arrange for you to meet them, and you will know my words are not false!”

Lizhu hedged: “But your mountain lord…”

“Never mind the mountain lord at a time like this.”

As soon as Gu Bing’an’s words fell, he felt a chilling coldness on his back. Someone had grabbed the collar of his robe from behind and lifted him clear off the ground, dangling him to the side.

Pei Zhaoye bent down slightly, looking down at him with a smile: “Gu Bing’an, have you gone mad with desire for an official post?”

Footnotes

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  Lun Heng is a classical Chinese text written by Wang Chong (27– c. 100 AD) during the Eastern Han Dynasty.