A pair of large hands grasped her slender waist and lifted Lizhu out of the cramped carriage entirely.

She fell into an air-tight embrace.

The heat of his body, mingled with the scent of blood, dust, and a faint trace of sweat, rushed over her. It wasn’t exactly pleasant, yet in an instant, her heart steadied.

He stroked her back, buried his head in the hollow of her neck, and said hoarsely,

“…It’s fine now.”

“There is something wrong.”

Lizhu wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, her voice trembling with a choked sob.

“Pei Zhaoye, how could you be so accurate? There really was a rat that came to bite my foot!”

Back when she was in Luoyang Palace, she had never even heard a rooster crow. Now she could even fight with rats!

Hearing this, the heavy stone pressing on Pei Zhaoye’s chest seemed to lighten a little, and for a moment, he almost wanted to laugh.

However, when he lowered his eyes to the bit of her calf exposed beneath her skirt—

There should have been another petticoat under her dress, but now it was crumpled into a ball and left inside the carriage.

A surge of unprecedented fury filled his chest, burning his entire heart in flame.

“…That means the rat had good taste, it knew the princess’s flesh was fragrant.”

Pei Zhaoye spoke in a gentle voice as he pulled the edge of her skirt back into place.

Lizhu’s tear-filled eyes widened, but before she could scold him, he suddenly raised his head, a furious roar bursting from his chest—

“Are you all dead?! Bring a cloak!”

Qiu Er, following behind, flinched at the outburst.

He thought, How can this be my fault? Usually, sharp-eyed tasks like this never came to them—wasn’t this always the Second-in-Command’s duty?

“Yes!”

Qiu Er cupped his fists in reply and turned to call for a few men to fetch it.

Lizhu also jumped from fright.

She had never seen him speak so loudly before, especially not in front of her.

But soon, Lizhu realized something was wrong.

“You’re bleeding so much!”

Pei Zhaoye had fought two battles in a row; no matter how naturally valiant he was, it was impossible for him to be unscathed.

When she unfolded her own wet palm, it was covered in a shocking expanse of red.

Only then did she realize that the dark robe on him—black mixed with peacock blue, with both civil and martial sleeves—had long been soaked through with blood. It wasn’t visible to the naked eye, and Lizhu had mistaken it for sweat.

Earlier, when she had been taken hostage by Zhao Ji, Lizhu could still think calmly and plan a countermeasure. But now, half her body went weak.

“Where is the physician! Quickly, go to the Pei residence and summon my imperial medical officer! Have him wait in the yamen…”

Before she could finish giving her orders, her whole body suddenly lifted.

She looked up in disbelief at Pei Zhaoye, who had picked her up.

“Put me down! I can walk on my own!”

Lizhu was furious and tried to jump down herself. Yet even now, his arms were hard as iron clamps.

She dared not struggle too much, fearing she might worsen his wounds. Pei Zhaoye supported her with one hand, and with the other, took the cloak Qiu Er handed over, wrapping Lizhu tightly from head to toe.

“Where’s that dog thing?”

“The one who fell from the carriage?”

Qiu Er led the way ahead. “Didn’t see any visible injuries. Don’t know why, but he’s passed out cold…”

Pei Zhaoye strode forward in great strides toward the mess ahead.

“Close your eyes.”

A pair of blood-stained hands covered Lizhu’s eyes.

The officers and mountain bandits arriving with him happened to catch up at that moment. Before they could figure out what had happened, they saw their fearless leader, furious beyond measure, lift his leg and kick that man’s lower body!

A wail like ghosts crying and wolves howling burst forth.

Around them, countless soldiers and bandits instinctively clenched their legs together.

Zhao Ji’s veins bulged from the pain, his face turning dark red like pig liver. His scream was like his throat being sliced by blades. His hands desperately tried to pry away that leg.

But Pei Zhaoye’s leg did not move an inch.

Not only did it not move—it pressed down heavily like an iron pestle, as though to grind that flesh into minced meat.

The man’s eyes blazed, hot as stones heated in fire.

He didn’t merely want to crush that piece of flesh, he wanted to chop this man into minced meat himself and feed it to the dogs!

After taking the command token from the city gate, Pei Zhaoye had, just as Lu Yu instructed, immediately rushed to the yamen to rescue the princess.

Yet he had arrived one step too late.

By the time he got there, he saw only Cui Shiyong lying unconscious inside, struck down. When he caught one of the guards and questioned him, he learned that Zhao Wei’s son, Zhao Ji, had claimed to act under his father’s orders and abducted Lizhu.

Pei Zhaoye’s heart filled with fury. He had spurred his horse and chased madly after them, only to witness a scene that almost made his soul leave his body.

The runaway carriage was just a hair’s breadth away from crashing to pieces against the northern city wall!

This Zhao Ji, even at the brink of death, still wanted to drag the princess down with him. How could Pei Zhaoye not be enraged, not hate him!

“…General, why must you be so cruel?”

Among the officers, someone could not bear to watch and spoke up:

“Outside the city, there was already a river of blood and bodies scattered everywhere. And now you deal such vicious blows— even if he is a murderer and arsonist, one clean stroke would suffice. To torture him like this, isn’t that too ruthless…”

Pei Zhaoye did not even turn his head, as if these men were beneath his notice.

Who would have thought that the girl in his arms would suddenly push aside the cloak covering her, revealing a face fair as jade.

“This man abducted me from the yamen and, on the way, attempted to commit a crime against me. To say nothing of kicking him a few times, even if he were cut into a thousand pieces, it would not be excessive! You pity him so much and yet accuse General Pei, who saved me from danger. Are you, like the Zhao family, blind to the authority of the court and attempting to defy your superiors?”

Pei Zhaoye’s dark eyes shifted slightly, glancing down from above at the tip of her nose glistening with fine beads of sweat.

It was still the same delicate, lovely face. The weight in his arms was so light, it seemed like holding a wisp of cloud.

Yet somehow, she felt completely different from before.

The soldiers around them, hearing her tone, immediately realized that the young woman before them was none other than the Princess of Qinghe.

This night in Yiling Commandery had been full of upheaval—first, the newly appointed Situ Captain had his head pierced by an arrow; then, the bandits of Hongye Fort appeared wielding the bronze tiger tally that commanded the troops.

Anyone with eyes could see that by dawn, the power within the commandery would shift drastically. Who would dare say another word?

So the soldiers all dismounted together, knelt, and shouted in unison, “Greetings to the Princess of Qinghe!”

Hearing the thunderous roar echo through the air, Lizhu’s heart trembled for a moment.

When she was seven or eight years old, she had once attended the military exercises of the Northern and Southern Armies in Luoyang.

At that time, Emperor Mingzhao had held her by the hand, inspecting the troops, his face alight with heroic spirit. The spectacle had been far grander than this, yet she had only found it noisy and longed to return to the palace, unable to understand the fierce pride on her father’s face.

But now—

Looking at these five hundred soldiers bowing before her, hearing them call her name, Lizhu seemed to gradually understand her father’s feeling that day.

—They obeyed her. She commanded them.

That unmistakably clear truth stirred a strange tremor deep within her heart.

“Princess.”

Pei Zhaoye’s voice carried a faint smile, calm and unhurried.

“What are you dazing for? Give the order.”

By then, the hour of the dragon had arrived. The first light of dawn broke over the horizon, and the rising sun shone upon the city of Yiling.

The little princess, her hair disheveled and face smudged with dust, poked her head out. All around was silence; everyone waited for her command.

For a long moment—

“Zhao Ji forcibly broke into the yamen, attacked Governor Cui Shiyong first, and abducted me afterward. He is also suspected of committing a crime in the Mei residence. That he has remained at large until now makes me fear that his father, Zhao Weizhen, and several officials of Yiling Commandery are involved. I now order you all to go throughout the city and summon these officials to cooperate with the investigation.”

Lizhu took a deep breath and began reciting, one by one, the names of those who were Zhao Weizhen’s accomplices.

“These men are all ministers who have shed their blood for Great Yong. If they resist, you must not take their lives—remember to bind them.”

“Yes!”

Once Lizhu finished giving her orders, Pei Zhaoye lifted her onto the horse with him.

Lizhu was startled.

“Don’t ride a horse!”

Clutching his robe, she lifted her face to him, her expression pleading:

“You’ve lost so much blood. Can we take a carriage back instead? Losing this much blood really can kill someone…”

All along the way, her heart had been hanging by a thread. Even when Pei Zhaoye had stopped the runaway carriage with his bare hands, he hadn’t seemed to feel any pain.

Now that the tension had finally eased a little, the waves of pain flooded through every bone and limb.

Only—

When he looked down at the little princess in his arms, whose worry was so deep her tears were nearly falling, he said, “I won’t die.”

Pei Zhaoye looked straight ahead, nudged the horse’s belly, and the wind carried his half-jesting, half-serious words:

“With the princess risking her life to save me, even if one of my legs were already in the Hall of Yama, she could still pull me back out.”

Lizhu could not see his face; she could only feel, through his back, the faint vibration in his chest as he spoke.

Amid the jolting motion, she leaned lightly against him, thinking:

He’s not wrong. I did quite a lot of great things this time, huh.

Lizhu did not let Pei Zhaoye take her back to the Pei residence. She decided that from today onward, she would be stationed in the yamen.

However, although she now had troops at her command, the authority to appoint or dismiss officials still rested with the Prefect of Yiling, Cui Shiyong.

If they were to completely uproot the forces Zhao Weizhen had left behind in Yiling, they would need Cui Shiyong’s help—he absolutely could not die.

As soon as Lizhu dismounted, she was brimming with determination to rush into the yamen.

But then, behind her, came the heavy crash of something falling to the ground.

“Pei Zhaoye!”

•—–٠✤٠—–•

The hour of You, fourth quarter. (around 6:45 p.m.)

The medical officer from the Pei residence finally stepped out of Pei Zhaoye’s room.

Outside the door, Lizhu, who had been waiting with Xuan Ying for a long time, immediately stood up.

The physician smiled and said, “…No problem, no problem. Please rest assured, Princess. The wounds have been thoroughly cleaned and treated with medicine. This general has a strong constitution. If he does not develop a fever tonight, there will be no great danger—he’ll recover with a few days of rest.”

Lizhu wiped her tears and nodded firmly.

Then she asked, “What if he does get a fever?”

The physician furrowed his brows. “If that happens, it would be somewhat troublesome. It’s best to administer the decoction as soon as there are any unusual signs, to suppress the illness before it worsens… I’ll go prepare a pain-relieving decoction first. Tonight, I’ll stay in the kitchen—if anything goes wrong, I’ll immediately boil the medicine.”

Tears welled up again as Lizhu watched the physician’s back fade into the distance.

“Xuan Ying…”

Xuan Ying comforted her, “Princess, please don’t worry. Last night, when Lord Chang Jun sent Sister Danzhu back, he had someone inform Hongye Fort to bring along those fine medicinal herbs that were robbed during Your Highness’s abduction. Sister Danzhu went through the gates of hell herself and still survived, how could Master Pei not be safe?”

Lizhu asked, “Is Sister Danzhu really all right?”

“She’s fine. The two-month child in her womb couldn’t be saved, but her own life is no longer in danger. Danzhu said her elder sister’s body is strong too—with proper care, she’ll be fine. So you see, to accomplish great things, one must first have a sound body. The princess must also take good care of herself.”

Accomplish great things?

What great things? Why did it suddenly turn to that?

Lizhu nodded half in confusion.

“Xuan Ying, I want to stay here tonight to watch over him. Is that all right?”

Xuan Ying glanced at the young girl, still in the same disheveled state from earlier in the day.

“You can.”

She wiped the dust from Lizhu’s face and said seriously, “But the princess must first have a meal, then take a bath, and apply her own medicine properly before going.”

Naturally, Lizhu did not disobey.

By the time she had tidied herself up, the decoction the physician prepared was ready, and he was about to administer it to Pei Zhaoye.

Seeing this, Lizhu said, “Let me do it.”

The physician hesitated for a moment.

He had been Lizhu’s attending physician since her childhood, he had practically watched her grow up.

The princess was noble-born, delicate and refined, skilled only in literature and art. How could she possibly know how to care for others?

The physician glanced at the man on the bed, who was barely clinging to consciousness.

“It’s all right. Such small tasks—”

“Governor Cui in the next room is still waiting for you to change his dressing. Don’t waste time, I can do it!”

“This…”

The physician, his face full of worry, was pushed out by Lizhu.

On the table were a bowl of medicine and a thin bamboo strip for feeding. Lizhu picked up the strip and traced it lightly against her lips.

Although Pei Zhaoye had often taken medicine during the last year of her previous life, she had never once personally tended to him like this.

It shouldn’t be too difficult… should it?

Candlelight covered the figure lying on the bed, his long lashes trembling faintly.

Lizhu sat down beside him.

His eyes were closed, the long lashes casting soft shadows. The face that always carried a trace of mockery and arrogance seemed much gentler now.

Lizhu carefully pried his lips open with the bamboo strip, then scooped up a spoonful of medicine and, even more cautiously, poured it onto the strip—

Somehow, the strip tilted, and the medicine spilled completely!

Lizhu’s face went pale in shock. She hurried to wipe his face with her sleeve. Thankfully, the pillow was propped high—otherwise, the medicine might have gone straight up his nose!

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll try again—this time I definitely won’t mess up…”

As she wiped, she leaned closer and noticed that his chin seemed slightly flushed.

She tested the temperature of the medicine—

…Scalding hot!

It was boiling!

Good thing that spoonful hadn’t gone in—otherwise, wouldn’t his throat have been cooked through?

After Lizhu wiped his collar clean, she stirred the medicine until it cooled to a drinkable warmth, then picked up the bamboo strip again.

One spoonful after another.

His Adam’s apple moved faintly, as though he were swallowing unconsciously.

Lizhu’s focus had been on the bamboo strip, but when she accidentally caught sight of him, she couldn’t help glancing several more times.

It was rare to see him looking so fragile and obedient.

Even like this, he was still—very good-looking.

Though he was tall and powerfully built, able to stop a galloping carriage with his bare hands, at this moment none of that ferocity showed. Instead, he looked so pitiful that it stirred tenderness in her heart—made her…

…want to kiss him.

—Ah! A few spoonfuls spilled again!

Lizhu panicked and hurried to wipe away the medicine that had run into his ear.

Out of one bowl of medicine, half had been fed and half spilled. Fortunately, the physician had said this was only a pain-relieving decoction—however much she could get into him would suffice. In the end, at least half a bowl had gone down!

After cleaning up the mess, Lizhu leaned on the edge of the bed, quietly gazing at his sleeping face.

So this is considered passing the calamity of the previous life, isn’t it?

But the night raid at Jiacao Canal, Zhao Weizhen’s sudden revolt—everything had been too coincidental.

It felt as if an unseen hand were twisting the threads of heaven and earth, invisible yet able to push people toward death.

“…It’s all your fault.”

Lizhu murmured softly: “Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

She had been granted the gift of rebirth, yet still groped through fog, every step uncertain and alone.

What kind of feelings had he carried when he left for Luoyang in that past life?

Under the dim candlelight, his sharply outlined face was cast in shadow. His nose was high, his thin lips pale, his stillness completely defenseless.

Lizhu glanced around the empty, silent inner chamber, feeling a strange flutter in her heart.

She slowly bent down, softened her breathing, and brushed his cool lips with hers—light as a dragonfly alighting on water.

The man on the bed suddenly lifted his lashes.

“Caught you.”

Lizhu blinked rapidly in shock.

At such close distance, his dark, deep eyes reflected her figure.

“What do you want to know?”

His gaze, bright as a flame, swept over her slightly parted lips.

“How awful this medicine tastes, do you want to know that?”