A murderous aura rose off her in waves, like a demon crawling out from hell, thirsting for flesh.

The color drained from Lizhu’s lips, her mind echoing with just two words—

It’s over.

A blood feud between Danzhu and Zhao Weizhen, he would never let her go.

Outside, the bandits of Hongye Stronghold were on the verge of erupting, while the new Commandant of Yiling had already taken office—he could summon three thousand standing troops at any moment.

How could she stabilize the situation? How could she save them?

Lizhu turned toward Lu Yu.

In his arms lay their final trump card.

Should they use it now?

No—she couldn’t. She held the title but no command; everyone present was Zhao Weizhen’s man. She had no assurance that they would obey her orders.

What should she do?

What should she do!

Lizhu’s heartbeat quickened, sweat dampened her back, and her limbs trembled uncontrollably from the tension.

And it was at that very moment that Lizhu suddenly realized something.

Could it be that all of this had happened in her past life as well?

The surprise attack on Jiacao Canal, Danzhu’s bloodbath at the Mei residence, the siege—if someone had exploited the Hongye Stronghold bandits’ deep loyalty back then too, what would have followed?

And if Pei Zhaoye had not been there…

Of course he wouldn’t have been there.

There was only one Pei Zhaoye—if he guarded one side, he could not protect the other.

When he left Yiling in that past life, were the red leaves on Mount Yu still the same as before?

Lizhu’s trembling suddenly stopped.

Because she realized that this was already a dead end—a certain-death trap—and perhaps in her past life, everything had already gone to ruin at this very point.

If that was the case, then no matter what choice she made now, it couldn’t possibly be worse than before.

“Assistant Prefect Zhao,” she said, turning slightly toward Zhao Weizhen amid the crackling of torches, “if I settle this matter for you today, will you let me leave Yiling safely?”

Both Danzhu and Chang Jun were stunned.

“In at most one quarter of an hour, the bandits of Hongye Stronghold will arrive for reinforcements. I can tell you which direction they’ll come from so you can set an ambush in advance. You officials have been restrained by Hongye Stronghold for quite some time, haven’t you? You can imprison them together with Zheng Danzhu. Tomorrow at noon, execute them publicly in the marketplace. From then on, Yiling will know only of you, Zhao Weizhen, and no longer of Pei Zhaoye. How about it?”

Zhao Weizhen listened quietly to her words. For the first time, a faint ripple stirred in his otherwise calm eyes.

So she truly was a weak and useless princess.

When he had seen that guard, Chang Jun, mingling with the people of Hongye Stronghold, he had already known that she must be secretly working with the bandits.

He had thought she might possess some measure of wit and courage, but as soon as the situation turned against her, she switched sides without hesitation.

Cui Shiyong had said that Princess Qinghe was famed for her photographic memory, that even if she had burned those ledgers left behind by the Pei brothers, she could still recite them word for word.

Even if she could, what of it?

Emperor Mingzhao himself was the greatest corrupt official in all of Nanyong!

If Zhao Weizhen could exterminate the Hongye Stronghold bandits and seize their salt ponds, then offering forty percent of the salt tax to the Emperor and keeping sixty for themselves. Would the Emperor really forsake such profit just for a daughter who returned home safely and unscathed?

Zhao Weizhen smiled. “This official will comply entirely with Your Highness’s arrangements.”

Lizhu walked slowly toward Danzhu.

She looked at the dying young woman lying in Chang Jun’s arms.

“Leave it to me, it’ll be all right.”

Then, in a place where Zhao Weizhen and the others could not see, her lips moved slightly, forming five barely audible words—

Enter prison. Save Xu Bi.

Danzhu’s bloodshot eyes trembled.

•—–٠✤٠—–•

Zhao Weizhen, having heeded Lizhu’s warning, indeed restrained the more than fifty bandits before they could attack.

The feeling of power about to be seized stirred within his fat body, making him unusually lenient toward these spendthrift dogs.

A few of them resisted as if they had nothing to lose, wounding more than ten soldiers, yet Zhao Weizhen did not allow them to be executed.

“Keep them all alive. At noon tomorrow I will kill the chicken to warn the monkey, let all Yiling Prefecture see how the Hongye Stronghold fares. From now on, who rules Yiling?”

Zhao Weizhen was in extremely high spirits.

The officials who followed him flattered and fawned, already treating him as the true lord of the prefecture.

As for Cui Shiyong?

Nothing but a puppet; keeping him here was merely for appearances, to show that the old man knew his place. If the prefecture’s governor could be appointed from a local official, he would have long since been sent away.

“Lord Zhao is truly blessed by the immortals today. How convenient that the female bandit from Hongye Stronghold just so happened to hand herself to us, giving us such a perfect pretext. Otherwise, with Yushan and Yanshui as their shields, those bandits would not be easily caught!”

Indeed.

Zhao Weizhen thought it was a heaven-sent opportunity.

“However… if that Mountain Lord comes tomorrow to rescue them from the execution ground, what then? Better to—”

The man made a beheading gesture.

Zhao Weizhen laughed: “Gentlemen need not worry, he will not be able to come.”

The officials were puzzled.

Zhao Weizhen evaded the subject, smiling mysteriously as he looked toward Luoyang’s direction and said: “With immortal protection, one must not speak of it, must not speak of it…”

Still, Zhao Weizhen was cautious by nature and was not completely led by Lizhu’s nose.

After capturing the Hongye Stronghold bandits alive with an ambush, they found a respectable pretext to place Lizhu under house arrest within the official compound.

“Tonight’s bandit mêlée may have startled the Princess; it’s better to lodge Her Highness within the office. After the Hongye Stronghold trouble is quelled, we will arrange an imperial boat to return the Princess to Luoyang.”

Aside from Chang Jun being allowed to take Danzhu’s sister to seek medical care, even Lu Yu and the other attendants were removed from Lizhu’s side on the pretense of assisting the office in apprehending suspects.

Lu Yu refused to leave, but Lizhu said gravely: “You must go.”

She glanced at the person in Lu Yu’s arms.

“Take this, go join Danzhu and the others. You must seize the three thousand standing troops at the outer camp of the city, that is the key to this battle!”

Given Xu Bi’s age, he must command great prestige in the army.

Zhao Weizhen suddenly declared Xu Bi gravely ill, dismissed him from the commandant post, and promoted a newcomer; those men in the army could not possibly so easily accept a new commandant.

As long as Xu Bi appeared, he would inevitably seize the troops.

Lu Yu also understood the stakes and no longer delayed.

He had just wanted to give Lizhu a dagger for self-defense, but Lizhu took out a short sword from beneath her cloak and smiled at Lu Yu: “This was given to me by Pei Zhaoye before he left, rest assured, not seize Yiling Prefecture, I absolutely will not let anything happen to myself.”

There was a slight tremor in the way Lu Yu looked at Lizhu.

“Princess, take care.”

Watching Lu Yu climb out the window and, under the cover of night, slip away from the compound amid the soldiers’ heavy cordon, Lizhu knew that tonight the bow had truly been loosed and there would be no turning back.

If it failed, she would surely die tonight.

And there was one more thing she had not told anyone.

If her guess was right, even if Zhao Weizhen spared her, tonight someone would certainly come to take her life.

Lizhu hugged the short sword to her chest, and the tears she had held back all night finally began to fall.

In such a short time, suddenly bearing the lives and deaths of so many people, with no one left to protect her, was truly beyond Lizhu’s capacity to bear.

She did not regret running out from Luoyang this time.

She only feared that even if she lived another life, nothing would change—she could not accept that.

But soon, she discovered something even less acceptable had occurred.

A sudden pain at her toe made Lizhu look down, and she found herself staring into the eyes of a small gray creature.

“Squeak, squeak.”

• •—–٠✤٠—–•·

After a night of fierce fighting in the Reed-Flower Marsh, it was already the third quarter of the Yin hour.

The long night had not yet broken; the hulks of warships and corpses floated on the water. The second-in-command who had earlier shouted the loudest had now been cleaved in two from head to tail, drifting away in the night mist.

Pei Zhaoye looked at the river running red with blood and felt a chill of fear.

Fortunately he had returned in time today.

The river bandits of Jiacao Canal had somehow acquired those giant crossbows; their naval power was tremendous, almost comparable to that battle years ago when ten thousand government troops besieged Hongye Stronghold.

Had he truly been careless and not returned, even if the brothers left to guard Hongye Stronghold could barely fight, the deaths and injuries would have been at least ten times worse than today.

If the soldiers came again later to suppress them, it would not be far from the stronghold’s destruction.

“…Mountain Lord!”

Qiu Er was counting the wounded and sending them back up the mountain to recover. He turned and casually glanced back, only to discover a bloody sword wound glaring on Pei Zhaoye’s back.

“Mountain Lord, I’ll immediately have someone prepare a sedan. Your wound is too severe; you should not move—”

“Don’t talk as if it’s just a wound. Even if a leg is broken, dare you have a sedan carry me and see what happens, huh?”

Pei Zhaoye bent his arm to wipe his sword, his brows and eyes calm.

“Mountain Lord!”

“This is wrong. Go back to the stronghold and muster five hundred skilled land fighters, depart at once for Xiangcheng.”

Pei Zhaoye sheathed his sword, swung up onto his horse, and tersely said to Qiu Er at the horse’s side:

“These people’s target is not Princess Qinghe, it is Hongye Stronghold. Danzhu’s side must have an ambush. Quickly muster men, not a moment to delay!”

“…Yes!”

Within half an hour, Pei Zhaoye led over five hundred men outside Xiangcheng.

Night shrouded the entire city. Scouts reported back: the city gates were brightly lit, silhouettes behind the female wall moving—clearly many soldiers were on guard.

“Mountain Lord, we must not force an assault. For now, we can only wait until dawn to open the gates.”

Qiu Er said.

“Wait until dawn? Wait until dawn to go collect the corpses?”

Pei Zhaoye’s gaze ran deep as he looked from the slope into the heart of the city.

That little princess was always resourceful, yet at this moment Pei Zhaoye secretly wished she were a bit more foolish, a bit more timid.

Even if the blood outside ran dry, he wished she would not risk herself, thinking to save anyone with her own life.

A cold, killing wind brushed his dark hair; the red-gold ring clasp in his hair swung, its gold flashing like blood.

Pei Zhaoye pressed his legs against the horse’s flank. The wind roared in his ears.

“Move out. Go to the city gate and call them out.”