Gu Bing’an bowed his head and begged for mercy.

The bonfire crackled, the mutton smelled rich and savory, and the soldiers surrounded an open space—eating meat, drinking wine, and eagerly awaiting the match.

Lizhu had not misjudged it—the Yanshan soldiers, though perhaps not as experienced as the Hongye Army, were by no means inferior in brute strength.

In the blink of an eye, the Yanshan Army had already won three rounds in a row.

With ten rounds and six wins required, the situation was highly unfavorable for the Hongye Army. Yet Pei Zhaoye’s expression remained calm as he said to Danzhu:

“It’s your turn.”

Lizhu clenched her hands in nervous sweat.

Their arms collided; Chang Jun held his breath.

Danzhu’s fight had begun.

Lizhu fixed her gaze on the two battling figures.

Compared to her opponent, Danzhu’s build could not be called advantageous—tall like an ordinary man, but not burly or broad.

Her advantage lay in arm strength.

Even from such a distance, Lizhu could sense the force of her punches—no weaker than Pei Zhaoye’s—her attacks fierce and relentless, striking until her opponent was left scrambling, forced into awkward defense.

If not for the need to avoid seeming partial, Lizhu would have joined the others in cheering for Danzhu.

But Pei Zhaoye, unlike the surrounding crowd, remained detached.

He observed coolly, knowing full well that Danzhu held no real advantage now.

She was merely defending through attack.

When her strength ran out, that would be the moment her opponent struck back.

Sure enough—

The man who had been retreating suddenly stood firm, braced his stance, and with all his gathered strength, swung a heavy punch toward Danzhu!

With a loud bang!

Danzhu crashed hard to the ground, and Lizhu sprang to her feet.

Panting heavily, the man said to Danzhu, “You lose—”

Before the words left his mouth, Danzhu suddenly swept her legs sideways, catching him off guard and knocking him down. Then, her swollen face pressed close to his, she grappled with him fiercely on the ground.

The surroundings fell silent for a heartbeat—then the crowd erupted, cheers and shouts of praise bursting forth.

Lizhu’s heart leapt wildly.

This bout was entirely different from the ones before. Because Danzhu was truly fighting with her life, her opponent was forced to do the same.

There was no distinction of male or female—Danzhu’s arm shot beneath his crotch, his hand nearly gripped across her chest, yet neither yielded nor withdrew.

…It was like two wild beasts tearing into each other.

Just a moment ago, Lizhu had wanted to tell Pei Zhaoye to stop them, but in the next instant, she suddenly dismissed the thought.

When it came to establishing one’s place, there seemed to be no real difference between people and beasts.

Today, if she did not use violence and win completely, they would never acknowledge Danzhu.

Something subtle stirred in Lizhu’s heart. She sat upon the platform, quietly gazing down at the two armies below.

Those who had earlier watched Danzhu with mocking eyes were now clapping excitedly, shouting, trying to urge the man being pinned beneath her to stand up.

But the man’s neck was locked tightly by Danzhu’s arm; his face flushed red, he could not rise.

Danzhu had won.

The Hongye Army’s morale soared, while the Yanshan Army’s faces turned dark.

After Danzhu was carried away, Lizhu immediately sent Chang Jun to check on her. He hurried forward and asked anxiously:

“…How are you? Didn’t hurt anything, did you?”

Danzhu’s cheeks were swollen, her mouth full of blood, yet she only said one word.

“Refreshing.”

Chang Jun: “……”

After Danzhu, the Hongye Army won two more matches in a row, finally drawing even with the Yanshan Army. Both sides now had three victories each, with four rounds remaining—every soldier stood on edge as if facing a great enemy.

At the end of ten rounds—

Chang Jun struck the gong: “Yanshan Army, six wins! Hongye Army, four wins—Yanshan Army wins in the end!”

Wu Yan, who had kept silent and cold-faced all along, finally relaxed his brows and showed a genuine smile.

The daytime hunt could not truly count as a victory for the Yanshan Army.

Yesterday’s duel with Pei Zhaoye had been a complete defeat, leaving no room for turnabout.

Only this time did the Yanshan Army truly feel vindicated—raising their heads high, without disgrace among the refugee troops!

As night deepened, the Yanshan Army’s cheers of celebration lasted late into the night before gradually quieting down.

When Pei Zhaoye quietly entered through the left side of the tent curtain, Lizhu saw not the slightest trace of displeasure on his face—on the contrary, he seemed in quite a good mood.

She stared at him for a while, then suddenly said: “How come you’re so happy after losing?”

Pei Zhaoye curved his lips. “Victory or defeat are common matters in a soldier’s life—should I put on a mourning face just because I lost two rounds?”

“No.”

Lizhu leaned closer, a bit suspicious:

“You didn’t happen to lose on purpose, did you?”

“I’m not that divine—I can’t foresee outcomes… but indeed, there were two or three of the best fighters I didn’t send out.”

Seeing her bent over her desk writing, Pei Zhaoye sat across from her and ground the ink for her.

“Earlier I defeated Wu Yan completely, and today I led the encirclement of Li Da’s remnants. The Hongye Army’s momentum has grown too strong—that’s not a good thing. Losing once or twice will remind them that there are always people beyond people, skies beyond skies.”

Within the refugee army, it was never good for one side to overwhelm another.

This force of over seven thousand men could not compare to the discipline of a regular army. If they couldn’t even stay united, then before any true battle began, they would collapse on their own.

His gaze grew intent.

“In truth, these are just trifling tactics. The real key is that you agreed to let me take action against that Young Master Xue.”

Lizhu held her brush between her fingers, resting her chin in her hand as she looked at him.

“You want to use this Young Master Xue… to unite the people’s hearts?”

The lamplight dimmed a little. Pei Zhaoye leaned slightly and adjusted the wick.

“What an army fears most isn’t lacking food or money—it’s not knowing why it fights. They say women grow closer through a common enemy, but really, that’s human nature—it makes no difference between men and women.”

“This refugee army is made up of all kinds of people from every walk of life. To make them swear loyalty to the court, that’s too abstract. To speak of reclaiming the northern lands, that’s too far away. But a clan like the Xues, entrenched in power and rampantly domineering—who wouldn’t want to stamp them down?”

Lizhu asked, “When you first built Hongye Stronghold, was it like this too?”

Pei Zhaoye nodded. “That’s right.”

This was his area of mastery. Lizhu watched him quietly—amid the bitter winter chill, there was a hint of spring brightness and youthful vigor in his eyes.

Unlike in the previous life, where no matter the place or time, he always wore that gentle, smiling mask.

Back then, his sharpness had likely been worn smooth by the scheming and struggles of the court.

Lizhu suddenly said, “I knew it, you were born to be a great general.”

When she said it, it sounded half like praise for him, half like pride in her own sharp judgment.

Pei Zhaoye’s lashes trembled lightly, yet his expression remained calm as ever.

“If I was born to be a general, then what were you born to be?”

Lizhu answered without hesitation, “Of course I was born to be a princess.”

After speaking, she drew a circle on the document from Yiling Commandery awaiting her approval.

Pei Zhaoye laughed silently.

He did not expose Lizhu’s self-deception.

Who said only those ruthless in killing and bent on seizing the throne were contenders for power?

Her way—grounded, doing real things for the people, gathering followers one by one—wasn’t that also a form of seizing power?

Lost in thought, Lizhu absentmindedly poked her chin with the end of her brush.

“Lin Zhang said, this year we’ve just about exhausted all the foundation Yiling Commandery had left. But once spring comes next year—the weaving workshop, the brewery, the folk kilns… with the crafts brought in by the refugees from Jiangzhou, the taxes collected should be even higher than this year.”

“What a pity,” Pei Zhaoye said lightly, “Yiling is growing rich, but the Princess has become a little pauper.”

He asked her, “Weren’t you going to celebrate my birthday? Does the Princess still have money to prepare me a gift? If it’s not enough…”

“It’s enough.”

Lizhu refused in all seriousness.

“Using your money to celebrate your birthday, wouldn’t that be far too insincere? …Tomorrow you’re going to Suinan for the final contest, aren’t you? I heard Suinan is as prosperous as Luoyang. Just right, I’ll go too, and buy your birthday gift.”

“Are you really buying my birthday gift, or just taking the chance to buy clothes and shoes for the Yanshan soldiers?”

Lizhu tilted her head. “…That doesn’t conflict, does it?”

“Heh.”

“No time to chat with you. There are still a few rolls of Yiling’s official reports left. I have to finish reading them before departure tomorrow. You go to sleep first.”

Lizhu brushed a kiss against his lips, then turned back and continued writing swiftly.

Under the lamp, the beauty’s slender white wrist moved with elegant strokes; her handwriting graceful and flowing. Pei Zhaoye turned his head to study her profile, feeling that such moments—such conversations—would happen again many times in the future.

Half an hour later, Lizhu reached the final scroll.

Suddenly, a heated body pressed against her back. A left hand slipped in through her collar.

“Why did you stop writing?”

The man, licking the tip of her ear, asked.

Unable to hold her brush, Lizhu turned her head, eyes glistening with moisture as she glared at him without a word.

“Don’t be lazy,” he teased, scraping her lightly with his knuckle, smiling a bit wickedly. “You keep reading yours, I’ll keep kissing mine—it doesn’t conflict.”

“……”

Sweeping through the last few lines quickly, Lizhu flushed red, angrily set down her brush, then turned and bit his wrist.