Chapter 44: Pei Shi Is Pei Shi, No One Can Replace Her

Chapter 44: No One Can Replace Pei Shi

Four days after the first-birthday banquet (Zhouzui), Pei Yun had Shu Yan and Shu Mo come to her and asked if they wished to marry.

Around this time in her past life, seeing that these two long-serving maids, now in their early twenties and getting older, she had feared further delay would be unfair to them and considered sending them out of the palace to marry.

The moment Shu Yan heard this, her voice wavered tearfully. "My Lady, are you abandoning us?"

Pei Yun paused, surprised—this reaction was different from her past life. She remembered Shu Yan had remained silent for a long time before nodding in agreement back then.

But then again, in that life, after giving birth to Chen'er, she had been constantly depressed and irritable, sometimes even taking out her anger on the palace maids, including Shu Yan and Shu Mo. No wonder Shu Yan had been afraid and chosen to leave her side.

This time, however, was different. Shu Yan knelt before her, tears streaming down her face. "My Lady, I won’t leave. You’ve been so kind to me—I want to serve you for the rest of my life!"

Such distress made it seem as though Pei Yun was casting her aside, which both fondly exasperated and amused Pei Yun.

She pulled Shu Yan up and wiped her tears with a handkerchief. "It’s marriage, not kicking you out. Why cry like this?"

Turning to Shu Mo, she asked for her thoughts. Shu Mo also shook her head. "I, too, wish to stay with My Lady. Marriage means serving a man for life—and if luck is bad, not just one man, but his entire family. It’s far less comfortable than remaining by My Lady’s side."

Pei Yun had never heard these words from Shu Mo in her past life, and now, she couldn’t help but admire the girl’s insight.

Shu Yan, wiping her nose, nodded in agreement. "Shu Mo is right. That’s how I feel too."

Pei Yun couldn’t suppress a laugh at the sight of Shu Yan’s tear-streaked face.

If this was truly how they felt, how terrible had she been in her past life to make Shu Yan prefer marriage over staying?

But this was for the best. Shu Mo, steady and reliable, could remain in the Eastern Palace to oversee matters for her, while Shu Yan, clever and outspoken, would be ideal to accompany her outside.

As for Shu Yan’s marriage…

She would find an opportunity later to let her meet the man she had married in her past life. If Shu Yan still wanted him, she would arrange the match. If not, she could simply stay by Pei Yun’s side—it wouldn’t do to let the changes of this life disrupt what might have been her happiness.

That night, Pei Yun barely slept. When the time came, she let out a sharp cry and knocked over an unlit lamp by her bedside.

The palace maid on night duty, startled by the noise, rushed in to find the Crown Princess sitting up in bed, clutching the blankets, her face pale with fright—as if she had been haunted by a nightmare.

The young maid, inexperienced in such situations, panicked and hurriedly called for Shu Yan and Shu Mo. Shu Mo, hastily throwing on an outer robe, brought Pei Yun water and asked what nightmare she had seen.

Pei Yun, pretending fatigue, only muttered that she had dreamed of the Crown Prince.

Shu Mo understood and offered comforting words before asking if she should summon the imperial physician. Pei Yun declined, and Shu Mo helped her lie back down.

The late-night commotion left Pei Yun looking weary the next morning, her face noticeably wan—exactly the effect she wanted, ensuring the entire Eastern Palace would know of her nightmare.

She deliberately chose a light-colored gown to accentuate her pallor.

Since Shu Yan and Shu Mo had lost sleep over her act, she let them rest and, early in the morning, took another maid with her to hurry toward the Empress Dowager’s Cishou Palace.

October 11, Yuezhou Prefecture Office

*

As twilight fell, streaks of dusk painted across the sky. Li Zhangye sat at his desk, frowning as he tirelessly reviewed the records compiled by the clerks—statements from the families of missing citizens.

Though he had braced himself, it wasn’t until he arrived here and ordered the yamen runners (bailiffs) to conduct house-to-house searches that he realized over thirty cases had gone unreported.

This was just over half of the subordinate counties that had been investigated.

The unaccounted cases are likely far more than this number.

What’s even stranger is that all the missing are able-bodied men in their prime.

Some had been missing for months, others for twenty to thirty days—yet none had returned.

If it were robbery and murder, these were all impoverished commoners—what was worth stealing?

Though they had pushed their horses hard, the journey alone took ten days. In the better part of a month since arriving in Yuezhou, Li Changye had dispatched men to search for signs of the missing men while also trying to find clues in these documents.

Yet the missing were spread across Yuezhou’s counties. Aside from the shared trait of being able-bodied men in their prime, there were hardly any other similarities to be found.

Moreover, Yuezhou was surrounded by vast, rugged mountains—even if they wanted to search, they wouldn’t know where to begin.

Truly, no trace of them was left—neither alive nor dead. The disappearances were suspiciously thorough.

Li Changye felt a headache pounding.

Yuezhou’s prefect, Zhang Chengzhi, stood there uneasily by the desk, not daring to sit. He could only stand there, dragging his injured arm—bound with a wooden splint—while trembling with fear.

Truthfully, his arm wasn’t severely injured, but he had to play it up. Ever since hearing that the Crown Prince was coming to Yuezhou to investigate, he had been unable to sleep, consumed by dread.

He didn’t know which clueless subordinate had blown it out of proportion over a few missing people, even reporting it to the Emperor—making him, the prefect, seem grossly negligent.

So, a few days before the Crown Prince’s arrival, he purposely climbed the tall jujube tree in his backyard and fell from it, successfully injuring his left arm.

By the time the Crown Prince arrived, he could plausibly claim he had hurt it while rushing into the mountains to search for the missing.

As Zhang Chengzhi watched the dusk settle outside the yamen, he couldn’t help but grumble inwardly.

This Crown Prince was made of iron—spending the entire day relentlessly working on this disappearance case.

Originally, he had wanted to win favor with the Crown Prince and had even arranged for beautiful women from Yuezhou to serve as attendants. Unexpectedly, the Crown Prince had sent them all back.

The eunuch accompanying the Crown Prince, Chang Lu, had simply said His Highness had no need for the company of women and told him not to send any more in the future.

Zhang Chengzhi pondered this left and right. The Crown Prince was still a man—no matter how cold and aloof he appeared on the surface, deep down, what man didn’t appreciate feminine charms?

If the Crown Prince refused, it must mean the women he sent didn’t suit his preferences.

To this end, Zhang Chengzhi had even sent someone to the capital to gather information. And indeed, he had managed to obtain some crucial news—along with a portrait. Surely, if he found someone matching that appearance, the Crown Prince wouldn’t refuse.

If he could please the Crown Prince, his position might still be secure.

Catching sight of a servant nodding at him from outside the door, Zhang Chengzhi immediately put on an ingratiating smile and said respectfully, "Your Highness, you’ve worked tirelessly all day. This humble official has arranged humble home-cooked dishes in the rear courtyard. Please partake and rest early."

When the Crown Prince’s sharp gaze swept over him, Zhang Chengzhi stiffened in fear and hastily explained, "Your Highness need not worry—it’s just simple, humble home-cooked dishes."

He dared not prepare another lavish banquet for the Crown Prince, lest he break into a cold sweat while being sternly questioned, "Prefect Zhang, what is your annual salary? You seem quite adept at indulging in luxuries."

Only then did Li Changye’s expression soften slightly. His eyes were strained from reading, and he closed them, rubbing his temples. Chang Lu, standing nearby, couldn’t bear to see it and also urged, "Your Highness, you haven’t slept well in days. Have you forgotten? The Crown Princess reminded you to take care of your health."

At the mention of Pei Yun, Li Changye opened his eyes, his gaze unconsciously falling on the green bamboo sachet at his waist.

After the incident with Pei Xuan last time, he hadn’t removed it.

He had resolved—no matter whom this sachet was originally intended for, since it had been given to him now, it was his.

He wondered how Pei Shi was doing. Chen'er's first birthday had passed some time ago, and she must have been worn out handling the banquet by herself.

After leaving the capital that day, he'd grown more and more regretful—he shouldn't have held back so much. She was his wife; even if he had embraced her in front of outsiders, so what?

Li Zhangye knew he missed her. He had no idea when she'd get the letter he had managed to write in his spare time, nor when he might receive her reply.

With how tricky this case was, it would likely be some time before he could return to the capital.

Li Zhangye stood up. "Let's move."

Chang Lu understood that only mentioning the Crown Princess could persuade His Highness and scrambled after him.

Prefectural Governor Zhang remained standing where he was, bowing respectfully as the Crown Prince headed toward the rear residence of the prefectural office. Only then did he finally relax. Though the Crown Prince had yet to ascend the throne, over these past few weeks, he had truly experienced the gut-wrenching feeling of "serving a ruler being like serving a tiger."

Though Li Zhangye stayed in the rear residence of the prefectural office, the guards posted around his courtyard were all his own men brought from the capital. Outside, he trusted no one.

As soon as he walked into the Purple Bamboo Courtyard, Li Zhangye spotted a woman standing in the yard.

Her back was turned to him, wrapped in a long cloak, her head slightly raised as if surveying the entire courtyard.

Chang Lu, following behind, didn’t understand why his master had suddenly stopped. When he looked up, he nearly choked—that Prefectural Governor Zhang was a complete moron. He had already warned him not to send any more women to the Crown Prince’s quarters, yet not only had the man ignored him, he had the nerve to keep asking for trouble.

Li Zhangye said nothing, only shooting an icy look back at Chang Lu, making his displeasure clear, before striding toward the western wing.

But after just a few steps, a sweet, familiar voice called out from behind.

"Your Highness."

Li Zhangye stiffened, freezing in place. That voice—he'd know that voice anywhere, the very sound he longed to hear even in his dreams.

Yet it was impossible for that voice to be here.

His gaze turned like daggers, with a faint undercurrent of murderous intent.

A surge of pure revulsion washed over him.

That Zhang Chengzhi—he'd gone too easy on him.

To think he had found a woman whose voice so closely resembled hers, attempting to seduce him.

But Pei Shi was Pei Shi. No one could ever replace her.

Rage radiated from Li Zhangye as he turned back, determined to see just how much this woman Zhang Chengzhi had found resembled Pei Shi.

Then, the woman slowly lowered the hood that had concealed most of her face, revealing almond-shaped eyes sparkling. She smiled at him, lips parting as if teasing.

"It’s only been a little over a month. Has Your Highness already forgotten your own wife?"