Hearing her scold the old thief with that clear, sweet voice, Pei Zhaoye couldn’t help the corners of his lips from lifting.

How could he let her know the true grudge between him and the Tan family?

What he saw in his dream was only a fragment, but Pei Zhaoye could almost guess what that “he” would go on to do.

If Lizhu thought he had approached her only to take revenge on the Tan family—what then?

…Though, that possibility wasn’t entirely baseless.

After all, he had long been displeased with Tan Xun, that half-brother of his. Even if the other was completely ignorant and innocent, Pei Zhaoye was no upright gentleman, and had no such kindness to sympathize with him.

Naturally, he did whatever pleased himself.

If Tan Xun had someone he liked, Pei Zhaoye would take her. Even if she were married, he’d still take her.

But no matter the reason for taking her…

How could anyone not like her?

He just didn’t know how, in that dream, she had come to agree to it.

Pei Zhaoye quietly watched her share his hatred and indignation, her brows drawn, denouncing fiercely.

Yet after all her scolding, not a single word was truly harsh.

How could someone curse so purely?

His lashes lowered, gaze falling upon her full lips. His throat grew dry. Though he had drunk plenty of water, it could not suppress the thirst burning within.

Just then, several strong men carried in a chest.

It was what Pei Zhaoye had stolen from the Tan family estate.

Before descending the mountain, he had specially instructed two of his men skilled in swimming, telling them where he had buried the chest underwater so they could dive and retrieve it, while another team waited on shore to receive it.

Now that it was brought back, Lizhu discovered it was a chest half as tall as a man.

When it was opened—gold and silver, silks and brocades, jade and glassware, countless hairpins and jewels—stuffed to the brim.

“…No wonder you were so badly hurt! Carrying such heavy things—serves you right to hurt even more!”

Lizhu nearly wanted to hit him.

Life and death were hanging by a thread, and he still worried about someone else’s gold and silver. She didn’t know whether to call him vengeful or greedy beyond fear of death.

The others who entered upon hearing the news were also stunned by the dazzling gleam of gold.

Pei Zhaoye smiled faintly.

“My skin is thick and flesh rough—what’s a little pain? It’s better to exchange it for something tangible. Though these things surely mean nothing to the princess, since you’ve toiled so much for me along the way, consider it a small token of my heart.”

Xuan Ying glanced at Lizhu. “This can hardly be called ‘nothing,’ right, Princess?”

Lizhu said nothing, but her expression grew a little displeased, as though something had occurred to her.

Pei Zhaoye’s gaze shifted between the two.

“What’s going on?”

Lizhu gave a heavy snort. “It means—I’ve run out of money!”

These past days, she had been running about—raising grain for relief, winning over Xiao Qiyuan, pacifying the Yanshan forces, and covering all the various travel expenses.

The funds just sent from the Luoyang Princess’s Residence treasury had only passed briefly through her hands before flowing out like water.

Unexpectedly, Pei Zhaoye laughed when he heard this.

To be honest, he truly was pleased.

Though he hoped the princess could one day stand on her own and shoulder responsibilities, in matters like this, there wasn’t a man alive who didn’t like being relied upon by the woman he cared for—he was no exception.

“How much do you still have on hand?”

He asked.

Lizhu replied with a resentful number.

“…What kind of expression is that? Don’t think I don’t know—you must’ve nearly emptied out the coffers of Hongye Stronghold on this trip too, haven’t you?”

“Even if the coffers were emptied, with the profit Hongye Stronghold gains from the salt pools, it wouldn’t be hard to support just a few people around the princess.”

Pei Zhaoye had a clear idea of the stronghold’s accounts, but as for the Princess’s Residence accounts…

He calculated silently in his mind, somewhat surprised.

“That shouldn’t be. The princess has fief income from two commanderies, and you don’t live extravagantly. Even if raising grain cost quite a lot, wasn’t it only fifty thousand shi? How could you already be out of money?”

Lizhu remained silent, but Xuan Ying seized the chance to complain:

“Though the princess has two fief commanderies, there are those who falsify population records behind the scenes, annex farmlands, and avoid paying taxes. How can the princess enjoy any fief income like that?”

The smile on Pei Zhaoye’s face cooled a little.

Lizhu was angry too.

But what angered her wasn’t merely that someone had stolen her revenue—it was the greater implication. If she could not collect her fief’s dues, then naturally the national treasury could not collect its taxes either.

Without taxes, how could the court sustain the people’s livelihood and the nation’s stability?

Pei Zhaoye asked, “Where are the princess’s fiefs located?”

Xuan Ying answered, “Both commanderies are within Jiangzhou’s borders.”

——The Xue clan of Suinan.

Within Jiangzhou’s borders, the Xue clan held absolute dominance. Moreover, they wielded considerable power in the court as well.

Thus, in those days, Emperor Mingzhao had no choice but to raise the Minister of State, Tan Jing, to stand as an equal rival against Xue Yun.

Fortunately, what Lizhu excelled at most was endurance and patience.

She thought for a moment and said: “The matter of the fief isn’t something that can be solved in a day or two. Let’s first go to Yanshan to recruit and train soldiers, and let the refugee army gain a foothold in Jiangzhou. As for the rest, we’ll plan gradually in the future.”

Lizhu turned her head toward Pei Zhaoye, who lay on the couch.

Pei Zhaoye understood her meaning.

“If it truly follows the decree’s words—past crimes forgiven, registration as military households—then later have Gu Bing’an inform the brothers in the stronghold. Let them come forward to enroll of their own will. Whoever doesn’t wish to can just return to Hongye Stronghold.”

In the clear afternoon sunlight, once the news spread through the camp, it caused an uproar.

Naturally, many hesitated; some firmly declared they would return to Yushan. Yet those who responded and chose to follow still made up the great majority.

First, Pei Zhaoye’s influence in the stronghold was undeniable. The men followed him with near-blind faith.

Second, the chance to be registered as official military households was too tempting for those bandits.

Many of the mountain bandits in Hongye Stronghold had no household registration; some even carried wanted notices from the authorities. Such men naturally longed for this chance to have their past forgiven.

Moreover, according to Yong dynasty law, military merit was the ladder by which commoners could ascend to the heavens in a single step—who wouldn’t want to win one battle and be ennobled as a marquis of ten thousand households?

After discussion, Pei Zhaoye and Lizhu decided to give the entire stronghold five days to consider—

And also five days for Pei Zhaoye to recover, since the journey to Yanshan was long and rough travel might worsen his wounds.

“…How about Danzhu?”

Pei Zhaoye took the bowl of medicinal soup Gu Bing’an handed over.

He said, “Still the princess’s idea—first she provoked her, asking whether she was afraid of being inferior to those male soldiers. Then she soothed her, saying the army also needed rear-line support, and that her sister could come serve as a logistics soldier too. Add to that the gentle-tongued Chang Jun persuading at her side, how could Danzhu possibly refuse?”

Gu Bing’an finished with a laugh, then sighed slightly.

“Though I’ve always wished for our amnesty, now that we’re truly leaving Hongye Stronghold, I still can’t help feeling reluctant.”

“When the man remains, the stronghold remains. If the man is gone, all else is empty.”

In the current situation, the path of being mountain bandits in Yushan had reached its end.

If they didn’t turn back now, death would be the only thing waiting ahead.

Pei Zhaoye showed no trace of sentimentality. He raised his head and drained the medicine in one go, then asked Gu Bing’an: “Only one bowl of this?”

Seeing his expression, Gu Bing’an hesitated and said: “Mountain lord, this is just medicine to stop the bleeding and replenish your strength. Drinking more won’t make you leap about like before, and it’s not some…”

He didn’t even want to say it aloud.

These past few days, the mountain lord had been watching the princess’s tent every single day—he was about to drink that medicinal soup as though it were some kind of aphrodisiac.

Pei Zhaoye caught the unspoken meaning in his tone and smiled carelessly.

“When you go out, tell them to boil some water. The medical officer said today I can bathe.”

Gu Bing’an: “……”

When he stepped outside, he couldn’t help but glance toward the princess, who was drying bamboo slips in the sunlight.

Today was a rare clear day.

Taking advantage of the fine weather before their departure, Lizhu had brought out the box of bamboo slips she always carried with her to let them dry, lest the continual snow and damp cold cause mold or insects.

Her sleeves were pinned up at the elbows, black hair smooth as silk, skin as pale as jade—under the bright sun, it seemed almost translucent.

When Gu Bing’an turned back, the mountain lord—who had just walked out of the tent—was drinking from a bowl of water while staring fixedly in the princess’s direction. His bare arm, taut and veined, flexed with every movement.

Gu Bing’an involuntarily swallowed.

How could the princess’s delicate and fragile frame withstand that…

Pei Zhaoye lowered his eyes. “Also, send men to investigate the situation at Yanshan. That leader Wu Yan might try to trip us up.”

That Wu Yan was no nameless figure on Yanshan.

Two tigers could not share one mountain. They were all bandits who had accepted the princess’s amnesty—if it were him, he wouldn’t be willing to remain beneath another’s command either.

“Understood.”

Gu Bing’an replied and left.

Pei Zhaoye took one last look toward where Lizhu was, then drained the bowl of water and returned to the tent in high spirits.

Night fell.

They would set out the next day. Lizhu gathered up the bamboo slips that had been drying all evening and packed them into the box.

While tidying, she suddenly saw the letter of recommendation written earlier by the Grand Preceptor.

The great scholar of the age—Xie Ji.

The Xie clan, a family renowned for classical studies, was also in Jiangzhou.

Lizhu’s thoughts stirred.

That recommendation letter no longer held any meaning for Pei Zhaoye as he was now.

And truthfully, it wasn’t entirely that she wanted to give it to him—rather, it was that she deeply admired Xie Ji’s learning, and wanted to offer him this opportunity for that reason.

“What are you looking at?”

Before she even turned, the fresh, cool scent of bath beans reached her. Lizhu lifted her head.

“You’ve bathed? Have your wounds already scabbed?”

“Mm.”

Lizhu grabbed his hand to inspect it. The day he was dragged, both his hands and back had been badly injured—almost to the point of harming the tendons and bones.

Seeing her examine him with such care, Pei Zhaoye couldn’t help but curve his lips.

“The princess worries so much, should I have you check the rest of my body too?”

Lizhu released his hand, pretending to be stern.

“…Your wounds are for the medical officer to examine. How dare you order the princess around?”

Lizhu had also just bathed.

Her hair was loose, and with the charcoal brazier burning warmly inside the tent, she felt no chill even in her sleeping robe. The thin, soft fabric clung to her skin, tracing the slender yet straight lines of her shoulders and back.

“I wouldn’t dare order the princess—only worried the princess might think my wounds haven’t healed, and thus wouldn’t dare order me.”

He spoke slowly, as if his words carried another meaning.

Lizhu lowered her head to slip a cloth cover over the bamboo slips.

“Hmph, can’t you tell I’m still angry? I haven’t completely forgiven you yet for leaving without a word and taking men to Wan Commandery to seize the grain!”

Pei Zhaoye thought to himself that indeed, he couldn’t tell at all.

Her bamboo slips never tolerated others’ meddling, so he couldn’t help her. Instead, he wandered idly around her tent.

Like a beast tracing her lingering scent, he moved slowly, yet missed nothing.

He had ordered the best charcoal to be sent to her tent—there was not even a hint of a choking smell. The fragrance rising from the boshan censer was floral and delicate, filling the confined space and stirring the heart.

Suddenly, his eyes caught on something, and he stopped in his tracks.

“…You’re really still angry?”

Lizhu didn’t even lift her head. “Of course. Do you think I’d joke about something like that?”

There was a moment of silence behind her.

Something felt off. She turned her head—and in that instant, all the blood in her body rushed upward, her whole face flushed scarlet.

Pei Zhaoye was holding the small bundle on her bed.

The bundle, which Lizhu had been hugging for several nights, had loosened a little, revealing the corner of a garment inside. With his index and middle fingers, he pinched out a strip of cloth, glanced at it, then lifted his gaze to her—eyes glinting with teasing amusement.

“So angry, yet you sleep hugging my clothes?”

He advanced toward her with a heavy sense of pressure, his dark eyes deep and shadowed, the silhouette of his tall figure nearly swallowing up her shrinking form.

“Princess…”

“What did you do… to my clothes?”