Lizhu actually was not completely drunk.

The wine cut her consciousness into fragments, making it hard to tell where she was, yet her mind was not in confusion.

She could still recall an old event after her marriage in the previous life.

The Wuhuan people harassed the borderlands, provoking Nanyong, and Pei Yinzhi personally went to the Tower of the Divine Maiden, greatly defeating the Wuhuan.

That was Pei Zhaoye’s second time personally going to the Tower of the Divine Maiden; the palace held a celebration banquet for this great victory.

The already-enthroned Shen Fu, unwilling and reluctant, asked him what reward he wanted.

Pei Zhaoye lowered his head and answered:

“It is within the minister’s duty to share the court’s worries, no need for reward. If Your Majesty insists on bestowing grace, then please, according to Yong Dynasty law and custom, confer upon Your Majesty’s elder sister the title of Princess Royal.”

Whether the title of “Princess” or “Princess Royal,” neither was something one was born with.

Lizhu had just passed her hundredth-day celebration when she was conferred as Princess of Qinghe.

Shen Fu ascended the throne as emperor at fifteen, but before that, Emperor Mingzhao, even until his death, had never granted him a princely title, much less proclaimed his identity as crown prince to the world.

Shen Fu remembered this hatred deeply.

So when it came to his turn to be emperor, he was entirely unwilling to confer Lizhu as Princess Royal.

Hearing Pei Zhaoye’s words, the young emperor neither confirmed nor denied.

Not only that, after three rounds of wine, he suddenly announced before the officials that he would confer the eunuch by his side the title of Marquis of Xiang, with six hundred households as fief.

Not conferring the princess, not conferring the meritorious subject, but conferring a eunuch?

The banquet was in uproar.

At that time, Lizhu’s expression was as calm as water, saying not a word, letting either mocking or pitying gazes fall upon her.

Pei Zhaoye smiled and drank a cup of wine.

Half an hour later, a young palace attendant stumbled in to report that the newly appointed Marquis of Xiang had drowned himself in the lotus pond.

He even left behind a farewell letter.

Calling himself of lowly birth, unable to bear such a great duty, unworthy of the emperor’s grace, willing to commit suicide to atone for his crime.

Amid the deathly silence of the hall, Pei Zhaoye, who had gone out to sober up, walked slowly back in, the crook of his arm still holding several lotus flowers with dew upon them.

As if entirely unaware of the frozen atmosphere around him.

The Grand Preceptor, whose robes were splashed with blood, walked in gracefully, lowered his hands, cupped them in salute, placed the lotus flowers before the princess, and smiled, saying:

“On the way I encountered these flowers blooming at night, matching my wife perfectly, so I broke them off to give to you.”

The next day, the decree conferring Princess of Qinghe as Princess Royal inside the palace, together with the news of Pei Zhaoye’s blood staining the inner palace, spread madly throughout the entire city of Luoyang.

Because of this matter, Pei Zhaoye suffered enormous criticism both inside and outside the court.

Even the old officials who supported him had many complaints against him.

Those days in succession, Lizhu had been somewhat melancholy and joyless.

Pei Zhaoye thought she was resenting him for killing that eunuch attendant, and could only helplessly touch her face, saying that she was too kind-hearted.

But actually, she was not.

Lizhu did not think herself kind.

Most of her life had been spent learning how to face humiliation.

At times she needed to cry — for example, when facing an insulter like Empress Tan, tears could make her satisfied and leave more quickly.

At times she needed to fight back, but only when others provoked her could she fight back, and she could not go too far — for instance, when dealing with Shen Fu.

Of course, more often, she only needed to endure in silence.

Many times, her lack of revenge was a kind of incapability; her endurance and forgiveness were also the cowardice of the weak.

Lizhu secretly despised such a quality, yet she had no choice but to rely on this very ability to survive until now.

……If only she could be like Yinzhi.

In the vision made hazy by drunkenness, there appeared the man’s clearly outlined jaw.

His nose bridge was very high, the angle of its ridge having a sharpness unlike that of southerners, yet his brows and eyes were at once thick where thick, light where light, carrying the unique tenderness and lingering affection of southern men.

But only when facing her.

Many times, in doing things, he had a kind of extreme gambling nature.

Anyone would act in things with full certainty of success, anyone would dare to do so — but he dared to do things with only three or four parts of certainty, all the more so in war.

Although she would often advise him not to act too rashly in pursuit of advancement, not always to think of finishing everything in one move — that it was dangerous.

However, Lizhu also clearly knew that it was precisely this quality that drew her to him.

All those aggressions that were stifled by this court, that were never allowed to appear in her, were brought to full expression in him.

She watched him from behind.

Watched him being radical, decisive, never considering retreat — being sharp in her stead, being fierce in her stead.

But……

Even so, Lizhu would sometimes still have a subtle sense of dissatisfaction.

What was there still to be dissatisfied about?

She could not do it.

Without him, she could do nothing.

Thinking of this, Lizhu’s throat turned sore; some emotion that could not be released blocked in her chest, and could only flow out through her eyes.

Pei Zhaoye was utterly at a loss from her crying.

That little head of hers — one could not know how it held so much water — once it started flowing, it seemed as if it must all be shed in one breath.

“I will help the Princess, will forever like the Princess.”

His heart ached with a faint, stabbing pain. He raised his hand and wiped her face clean, bit by bit.

“…But first, tell me, who am I?”

His pitch-black eyes held a hint of coaxing, but unfortunately, Lizhu couldn’t discern it at all at this moment.

“You are Yinzhi ah.”

Her tears and snivel not yet dry, but upon mentioning this name, her apricot eyes held a smile.

She looked as if she thought she had answered very well.

Pei Zhaoye’s eyes were deep and somber. His large hand gently stroked her hair at the temples.

He asked again: “Who is Yinzhi?”

“It’s you ah.”

“Not asking that.”

“Then what are you asking? I’m so thirsty, give me water to drink.”

Pei Zhaoye glanced at the small table and handed a cup to her lips.

Lizhu gulped down a large mouthful, but her tongue tip was met with a spicy taste.

“…This isn’t water!”

Pei Zhaoye curved his lips: “Is that so? Might have grabbed the wrong one. Drink this one.”

Lizhu took it and drank again.

“…How is this still wine!”

Lizhu was furious.

“Wrong, wrong, this one is water. Drink.”

This time, Lizhu finally grew more cautious. She sniffed and licked, confirmed it was truly water, before drinking it down.

However, she had already been tricked into drinking two cups of wine, and now she was truly drunk, unable to distinguish east from west.

This drunkenness made a hundred emotions surge in Lizhu’s heart.

“Why can you do it, but I cannot?”

She asked him with a sincere gaze.

“What do you mean?”

Lizhu’s fingers brushed past his taut thigh and gripped the hilt of the sword at his waist.

“I am not kind at all, I also want to kill people, it’s just that I cannot kill. When I was young, I actually also had treasonable thoughts, it’s just that I flipped through every page of the history books, and the words between the lines all told me, this is impossible, this cannot be done, so I never thought about it again.”

It took Pei Zhaoye a good while to discern a little clue from her these disjointed, rambling words.

It seems she was truly frightened today.

She was simply like a bird startled by the mere twang of a bow, her mind spitting out whichever sentence popped up.

He said: “You told me to read more books, but I think you are the one who has read too many books. Books are dead, people are alive. The things written in those books you read, weren’t they also figured out and done by people, bit by bit? Things no one has done won’t be in the books, but who says they can’t be done?”

Lizhu tilted her head to look at him.

If she were sober, hearing these words, she might have just smiled and let it go.

But at this moment, looking at this young, sharp, almost fearless face, she seemed to be infected by him.

“The things I want to do, can they all come true? What if they don’t succeed?”

Pei Zhaoye did not hesitate: “If I say they can succeed, then you can succeed.”

Lizhu thought dizzily, no wonder her Fu Huang liked those sweet-talking eunuchs.

Who doesn’t love hearing this kind of slanderous flattery?

Even knowing it’s false, it really sounds good ah.

Lizhu felt her chest suddenly puff up, filled with a strange kind of heroism and hope.

“I want—”

Pei Zhaoye looked at her with a faint, teasing smile.

“You want what?”

Lizhu: “…I want to write characters!”

“…”

The drunken Lizhu, momentarily inspired by a literary whim, insisted that Pei Zhaoye immediately find bamboo slips and wooden tablets for her.

In Hongye Village, finding blades and axes wasn’t difficult, but finding these was truly not easy.

Fortunately, there was Gu Bing’an, who managed to find her a brush and ink with some effort. Lizhu was very satisfied.

No bamboo slips or wooden tablets didn’t matter either. Her gaze fell upon the several men wrestling.

When Xuan Ying, who had gone to the kitchen to order someone to prepare sobering soup, rushed back, what he saw was Lizhu insisting on writing characters on the backs of those several men.

Such an absurd and improper act, yet no one stopped her.

A crowd of bandits gathered around, watching the Princess raise her brush and write and draw on that man’s back—

“What’s this written?”

An illiterate bandit asked.

Lizhu pointed at the four characters, her gaze firm:

“Loyalty, Devotion, Repay, Country!” 

The bandits: “…”

“Good!”

Gu Bing’an was the first to lead the applause, followed by the bewildered Danzhu.

The one who caused all this covered his lips, chuckling softly to the side.

Xuan Ying could hardly bear to watch this farce in detail.

She quickly called the half-drunk Chang Jun over, had her carry Lizhu on her back, and then asked about the accommodation arranged for the night.

Pei Zhaoye said: “She will stay in the same courtyard she stayed in last time she came.”

It sounded like an independent courtyard, which set Xuan Ying somewhat at ease.

“Please excuse the Princess’s behavior. I will take the Princess back to rest first. May the Mountain Lord continue the feast, do not let this disturb everyone’s enjoyment.”

Pei Zhaoye nodded with a slight smile.

The two of them escorted Lizhu back to the small courtyard.

The courtyard was exactly as Lizhu had left it.

Xuan Ying looked around, seeing those luxurious and extravagant but utterly tasteless furnishings, and felt her eyes practically ache.

Chang Jun asked: “Should we prepare water for a bath?”

“The Princess is too drunk, a bath won’t be necessary. Find a set of clean sleep clothes, I will wipe the Princess’s body.”

“Okay… Huh? Isn’t this the trunk we had stolen before? Why has it been sent back?”

Chang Jun opened it and rummaged through. Apart from some of the medicinal herbs being used up, everything else seemed completely untouched.

Even the golden buyao the Princess liked the most was placed on top.

Xuan Ying said thoughtfully: “That Mountain Lord indeed… Never mind. Since the trunk is back, look for the floral water the Princess usually likes to use. The smell of alcohol is hard to get rid of; if it’s not completely removed, the Princess won’t sleep well.”

“Understood. I’ll go fetch and heat water first.”

The sound of their conversation drifted out from the inner room and fell into the ears of the man on the eaves.

Pei Zhaoye, legs crossed, gazed at the crescent moon in the deep blue night sky above, patiently waiting for them to leave.

If he wanted to clarify some matters, there was no better opportunity than tonight.

That dream about the destruction of Hongye Village…

At the end of the dream, he was no longer the Mountain Lord of Hongye Village. He had killed the three members of the Pei family’s second branch, taken Pei Shao’s identity, and said he would shoulder the family’s honor.

And the Princess, who came here by boat from Luoyang, said on the day she saw him—

She was Pei Yinzhi’s fiancée.

And also, that letter of recommendation bearing Pei Yinzhi’s name.

These doubts had lingered in his heart for a long time, a thousand threads all tangled, never sorted out, until today when she was drunk and her words slipped, looking at him and calling him “Yinzhi” repeatedly.

—–٠✤٠—–

The candle was extinguished, the door closed.

A dark figure swept into the inner room like a swallow.

In the deep night, only a faint smell of alcohol remained, and a clear, sweet, rich floral fragrance floated everywhere.

Lizhu was not asleep. Her black hair half-dry, scattered over the bedding, she felt half-dreaming, half-awake as if someone had walked to her bedside.

The dark figure stood still by her couch.

“…Yinzhi, why haven’t you gone to bathe yet.”

Lizhu slowly lifted her eyelids, glanced at him, then closed them again.

“Such a strong smell of wine. If you’re not washed clean, you’re not allowed on the couch.”

“…”

Her soft voice fell on his ears, stirring countless ripples.

Pei Zhaoye had no parents, had never seen how ordinary couples should interact in private, but in his imagination, it was probably something like this.

He slowly crouched down, took her loosely hanging, snow-white wrist resting by the couch, and gently kneaded it.

“Once washed clean, may I then ascend the Princess’s couch?”

Lizhu, half-asleep, hummed in affirmation, then asked in a low voice: “Are you tired?”

Pei Zhaoye’s brows and eyes relaxed as he gazed at her sleeping face, with unprecedented softness.

“A little.”

“…Then forget it.”

She closed her eyes, moved inward a bit, and muttered, “Just this once. Not allowed next time.”

He touched her half-damp hair at the temples:

“No need, I’ll go wash in a moment.”

Pei Zhaoye still remembered he came to extract information.

However, looking at her flushed face, her slightly parted lips, Pei Zhaoye found himself truly despicable.

Once he realized she might have known him long ago, that they had an unusual relationship…

The greed he had repressed for so long burst forth like floodgates opening, pouring down torrentially, stirring his gaze and body into restlessness.

“Princess?”

Lizhu hummed indistinctly.

His voice was low, coaxing: “Let me kiss you once before going.”

The nearly asleep Lizhu obediently sat up, kissed him once, then fell back and continued sleeping.

How could she know that she was completely playing with fire? The next moment, scorching breath and kisses pressed down upon her.

A soft tongue tangled with her ear conch, the ambiguous sound of water occupying all her hearing.

A broad, thick palm passed by her cheek and plunged into her black hair, half-embracing her into his arms. He kissed tenderly yet restrained all the way from her earlobe down to her neck.

“Can I kiss here too?”

He lifted his gaze from the crook of her neck.

The corners of his eyes were stirred with passion, his lips, from sucking and licking, were flushed with a gorgeous red, possessing a captivating brilliance.

Her snow-white neck lay limp in the crook of his arm. Drowsiness and drunkenness made Lizhu too weak to open her eyes, only able to mumble indistinct murmurs.

“That’s good then.”

The tip of his tongue, adorned with a silver ring, traced and licked. Lizhu trembled all over. The air grew somewhat thin, her breathing becoming increasingly rapid as she struggled slightly.

“…No more, I’m so sleepy.”

“Just a little longer, okay?”

His tone was gentle as water.

Yet only Lizhu knew he was kissing more and more excessively.

The air gradually warmed, breaths fell out of rhythm. Pei Zhaoye’s entire sense of smell was filled with her body’s scent, clear and sweet but not cloying.

It was driving him almost mad.

“Hand… your hand…”

She used her foot to tread on the crook of his arm, weeping softly, but it wasn’t a sound of sadness.

“Is it not allowed?”

He consulted her, appearing very polite.

“It’s allowed, right? Because it’s not someone else, it’s Yinzhi, correct?”

The young girl in his arms hooked her arms around his neck. Her moist, clear, and bright eyes revealed a contemplative look. After a moment, she nodded.

“Mm, because it’s Yinzhi, it’s allowed.”

“…”

Pei Zhaoye abruptly withdrew his hand.

For an instant, his expression was extremely complex.