Lizhu was awakened by a burst of loud rooster crowing.

…What kind of strange noise was that?

She opened her eyes in confusion.

What entered her sight was a canopy of smoke-colored diamond-patterned gauze. Her palm brushed the edge of the bed; the touch was smooth and fine, seemingly made of Shu brocade.

But upon closer look, the quilt was camellia red, while the mattress sheet was crab-shell green.

Such a red-and-green pairing, utterly devoid of beauty.

She cast her gaze around.

Inside the room, there wasn’t a single scroll or book in sight.

Instead, there were exquisitely ornate lacquered tables, dressing stands, and screens—though mismatched, they packed the not-so-large chamber completely full, glinting with gold.

After quite a while, Lizhu, sitting blankly on the bed, suddenly recalled—

Night raid, pursuit and killing, red leaves, corpses, and…

That bandit leader who looked exactly like Pei Yinzhi.

He had said his name was Pei Zhaoye.

Lizhu abruptly stood up.

Ignoring the soreness all over her body and the sword wound on her leg that had yet to heal, she hurriedly got off the bed, only to discover her clothes had been changed—someone had dressed her in a clean, fragrant new set.

But there was no time to mind such trifles now.

A set of skirt and robe hung on the clothes rack; Lizhu hastily put them on, took the cane that someone had left by the door, and pulled the door open.

“Chang Jun! What are you doing here!”

Lizhu could hardly believe her eyes.

Chang Jun was actually tied to one of the veranda pillars!

She quickly went over to untie the ropes around him:

“Who tied you!? Your wound—”

“What a pack of shameless bandits!”

Chang Jun tore off the cloth gagging his mouth and shouted angrily:

“They actually said you’re to be their future mountain lord’s wife, forbade me from entering your room, and even tied me here the entire night!”

Although Chang Jun had been struck by an arrow, he hadn’t lost much blood, so his injury was lighter than Lizhu’s.

Last night, after the arrowhead was removed and his wound bandaged, he immediately rushed to look for Lizhu.

Who would have thought that just as he reached the door of her room, those three came out together—and that woman called Danzhu tied him up without another word!

“Princess, this place is the bandits’ lair. It’s not safe to stay long…”

Lizhu glanced around; the sky was still dim, and no one was about. She pulled Chang Jun back into the inner room.

Closing the door, Lizhu pondered for a moment, then said solemnly:

“We probably can’t leave.”

Chang Jun grew anxious. “Why not? That bandit is outrageously bold. When I came last night, I saw people moving wine jars—they must be preparing for a wedding feast!”

He had thought the princess would be frightened and pale with shock, yet unexpectedly, she only froze for a moment.

Then she blinked, her expression seeming both curious and expectant:

“So he’s actually serious…”

“Princess! Do you understand how grave this is!” Chang Jun exclaimed in alarm.

“Oh, oh, I do, I do.”

Lizhu straightened her expression and said solemnly:

“However, in any bandit fortress, from the top of the mountain to the foot, there are always many guard posts and checkpoints. You are still wounded, and my injured leg is a burden as well. Without the mountain lord’s permission, we cannot leave this Hongye Stronghold. That is the first point.”

Chang Jun calmed down slightly.

“Second, I think that mountain lord is not an unreasonable man. When you were unconscious, he had already tacitly agreed to send us down the mountain. If we rashly try to escape now, it may cause unnecessary trouble.”

“There’s one more thing. Fang Jian and his subordinates are dead, but two days have passed, and news of the attack on me must have already spread—at least among the officials in Yiling and Wan Commandery, it cannot be a secret. For the sake of the larger picture, the Tan clan will likely not rescue me. They will only make sure I die swiftly and neatly, to preserve the Empress’s safety.”

At those words, the young eunuch’s face turned deathly pale.

He was the only one left by the princess’s side; if anything happened to her, he would be guilty beyond redemption.

“Then… Princess, what shall we do next…”

Lizhu pressed her index finger to her lips.

“Shh—once we step outside this door, remember to call me Madam Shen.”

Chang Jun nodded rapidly like pounding garlic.

“Let’s first investigate the situation in this Hongye Stronghold. They may be bandits… but precisely because they are bandits, and have been chosen by the Empress as scapegoats to kill me, they definitely won’t be colluding with the Tan clan. Perhaps, right now, they’re our only reliable allies.”

Hearing this, Chang Jun seemed to realize as well, and his tense body relaxed a little.

If that was the case, then this Hongye Stronghold was, for the moment, the safest place for them to hide and recover.

“Since the Princess has made up her mind, Chang Jun will follow only your command.”

“Good,” Lizhu said seriously. “First, help me arrange my hair. Xuan Ying isn’t here, and I can’t do it myself.”

“……”

While Chang Jun was combing and pinning up her hair, the two of them leaned close together to rehearse their story again, making the identity of “Miss Shen, daughter of a Luoyang apothecary,” sound more convincing.

Once they were properly washed and dressed, they stepped outside.

Passing under a ginkgo tree by the door, Lizhu and Chang Jun crossed a creaking wooden bridge one after the other.

Both of them had long lived deep within the palace, their farthest excursions being to the Shanglin Garden for sightseeing or hunting. Though the royal gardens and palaces were grand and beautiful, after long familiarity, the landscapes all seemed like the same artificially carved mountains and waters.

Yushan, however, presented an entirely different face.

The morning light in the mountains was soft and bright, filtering through layers of green, pale gold, and crimson maples, scattering across the streambed filled with fallen red leaves.

The unadorned natural scenery held a fresh and genuine beauty of its own.

Chang Jun said, “There really are guards over there. Mi—Madam, I’ll go ask where their mountain lord is.”

Lizhu nodded.

While Chang Jun went to inquire, she stood by the bridge, admiring the view.

However, after standing for a while, Lizhu suddenly felt that something was off.

The bandits scattered throughout the forest—those standing guard, carrying goods, practicing martial arts, or resting on the stone steps—suddenly grew quiet for some reason, all turning their burning gazes toward her.

Lizhu had never been stared at by so many eyes before; the hairs on her back stood up.

“…Chang Jun, did you tie my hair too strangely? Xuan Ying always said your hands were clumsy and never let you do it. I should’ve let you learn more from them!”

Chang Jun, returning and glancing around, sighed helplessly.

“Madam, it’s not about the hairstyle. Even if you shaved your head bald and left not a single hair, this bunch of insolent bumpkins would still stare at you the same way!”

Lizhu hurriedly hid behind Chang Jun.

Chang Jun stood protectively in front of her, like a mother hen shielding her chick, shuffling sideways like a crab as he glared back at those leering gazes one by one.

“What are you looking at! Keep staring, and I’ll gouge your eyeballs out!”

The seventeen-year-old eunuch lowered his voice and barked fiercely.

Yet the bandits weren’t frightened at all; instead, they burst out laughing.

“Little pretty boy, what kind of man talks like he’s got something stuck between his cheeks?”

A surge of fury flared up inside Lizhu.

Just then, from a small building higher up the slope, built against the mountain, came a cheerful, smiling voice:

“What are you all looking at?”

The laughter around the bridge gradually faded.

Behind the veil of red leaves, a faint azure figure could be seen, speaking slowly:

“Keep looking, and I’ll gouge your eyeballs out.”

The forest fell completely silent.

All those oppressive gazes upon her instantly vanished. Lizhu lifted her head—through layers of red leaves, he was looking at her.

“They say it’s unlucky for the bride and groom to meet before the wedding. Why did the little lady come here on her own?”

The slightly lifted tone at the end carried a teasing lilt.

Lizhu was dazed for a moment.

Her body felt a little better today, the ringing in her ears gone—and almost the instant she heard that voice, a lump rose in her throat uncontrollably.

Since his death, two springs and autumns had passed in the human world. She had thought she would never see him again in this lifetime.

“…I have something to say to you.”

Her voice was soft, almost gentle enough to be taken advantage of, showing not a trace of anger at being teased by a strange man.

The man in the small building fell silent for a moment.

Her reactions were always beyond his expectations.

“Alright.” He added, “Wait there for a while.”

Not long after, two men came down from the slope, carrying a bamboo palanquin tied together with ropes, coming to fetch Lizhu.

One of them said obsequiously, “The Mountain Lord said Madam injured her leg, and his heart aches to see her walk up the mountain path, so he sent us to bring her up.”

“Nonsense, what Madam!”

Chang Jun loathed their frivolous tone. He deliberately put on airs, glancing disdainfully at the crude bamboo palanquin.

When the Princess went out, she rode in a golden carriage drawn by six horses!

“Such a rough, shabby bamboo sedan—how dare you use this to carry our lady…”

“Thank you for your trouble.”

Lizhu happily sat down on it.

Chang Jun: !!!

“Madam!”

Lizhu blinked innocently. “But my leg really does hurt.”

Chang Jun could do nothing about the Princess and could only glare coldly at the two bearers.

“Carry steadily! If you jolt my lady, be careful with your heads!”

The bamboo palanquin creaked and swayed as it went up toward the mountain peak.

Lizhu, in truth, didn’t care whether the palanquin was made of gold or bamboo.

All these external things mattered only in how well they served people. If they were of no help and instead became a burden to their master, then no matter how luxurious, they were still a curse.

So it was with the Son of Heaven’s golden carriage.

And so it was with her prince consort.

By the time they reached the mountaintop, the daylight had brightened, the autumn hues deepened; layers of maple and ginkgo leaves carpeted the ground.

That familiar tall figure was standing in the courtyard before the small building, gently brushing a hand over the leaves of a pot of orchids.

His handsome profile overlapped with the man from her dreams, only much younger.

Lizhu seemed to see the past once more.

In her previous life, he too would often examine the orchids in her study.

When Lizhu had seen it, she’d quietly taken note; on his birthday the following year, she had specially gifted him a pot of white orchids worth a thousand gold. As expected, he had loved it dearly, treasured it, and personally wiped its leaves each day.

The world said that Tan Xun was the graceful gentleman orchid of Luoyang City.

But in Lizhu’s heart, her husband was the true orchid—pure in character, noble and unworldly.

Her eyes instantly filled with tears again.

No matter whether he was called Pei Yinzhi or Pei Zhaoye, she knew only one thing—the man before her was her husband.

He had once gone personally to the frontier for her sake, sparing her the suffering of a distant marriage.

He had once given her authority, to right the injustices of her youth.

When the palanquin touched the ground, Lizhu took up her cane and slowly walked toward him.

“…Who put this pot of chives here?”

With a flick of his finger against a leaf of the orchid, Pei Zhaoye raised his brows and asked.

“Mountain Lord, this isn’t chives. It’s what we unloaded from the canal boat yesterday.”

One of the men explained, “The Second-in-Command said the flowerpot it’s planted in is worth at least a gold tael. No matter how rich that delicate lady is, she wouldn’t use such an expensive pot to grow chives—it must be some rare and precious plant…”

If it came from the canal boat, then it must have been something sent for Pei Yinzhi.

“What’s so precious about it? Doesn’t it look exactly like chives?”

Pei Zhaoye let out a cold snort.

“Pull out this useless chive… Take it to the kitchen and make chive stir-fried eggs. Keep the pot, plant something bright red or purple in it instead—wouldn’t that look better than chives?”

So, even the young ladies of wealthy families had no sense of taste. A few chive leaves and they treated it like a treasure.

Thud—!

A cane came flying and struck the ground right beside Pei Zhaoye’s foot.

“Who’s there!” his men shouted, startled, drawing their blades.

Pei Zhaoye slowly lifted his eyelids.

The mountain autumn was blazing with color, the red so vivid it hurt the eyes—making the girl’s snow-white face and jet-black hair stand out all the more.

She stood framed against that fiery backdrop, her dark eyes wide and glaring, filled with inexplicable fury—and yet…

She was stunningly beautiful.