Chapter 44

Chapter 44

Li Zhu wasn't truly that drunk.

The alcohol fragmented her awareness, leaving her somewhat disoriented, yet her mind remained surprisingly clear.

She could still recall an old incident from after her marriage in her past life.

The Wuhuan people were harassing the border, provoking Nan Yong. Pei Yinzhi personally led an expedition to Shennü Que, where he decisively defeated the Wuhuan.

This was Pei Zhaoye’s second time personally leading an expedition to Shennü Que, and the palace held a celebratory banquet for the great victory.

The newly enthroned Shen Fu reluctantly asked him what reward he desired.

Pei Zhaoye bowed his head and replied:

“It is a subject’s duty to serve the court; no reward is necessary. If Your Majesty insists on bestowing a favor, then I ask that, in accordance with the laws of the Yong Dynasty, you grant your elder sister the title of Eldest Princess.”

Titles like Princess or Eldest Princess were not inherited at birth.

Li Zhu was granted the title of Princess Qinghe when she was just over a hundred days old.

Shen Fu ascended the throne at fifteen, but before that, Emperor Mingzhao had never granted him a princely title, let alone publicly declared him Crown Prince.

Shen Fu held a deep grudge over this.

Thus, when it was his turn to be emperor, he had no desire to grant Li Zhu the title of Eldest Princess.

Upon hearing Pei Zhaoye’s words, the young emperor remained noncommittal.

Not only that, but after a few rounds of drinks, he suddenly announced to the assembled ministers his intention to make the Palace Attendant by his side a Village Marquis, with an estate of six hundred households.

Instead of honoring a princess or a meritorious official, he intended to promote a eunuch?

The banquet hall erupted in an uproar.

At that time, Li Zhu maintained a serene expression and remained silent, allowing looks of mockery and pity alike to fall upon her.

Pei Zhaoye smiled faintly and drank a cup of wine.

About half an hour later, a young eunuch stumbled in to report that the newly enfeoffed Village Marquis had drowned himself in the lotus pond.

He had also left behind a suicide note.

In it, he claimed his humble status made him unworthy of such a great responsibility, that he had failed the emperor’s grace, and wished to atone for his shortcomings through suicide.

Amid the dead silence of the hall, Pei Zhaoye, who had stepped out earlier to clear his head, calmly walked back into the room. In the crook of his arm were several lotus flowers, still dewy.

He acted as if he hadn’t noticed the frozen atmosphere around him.

The Grand Marshal, his sleeves stained with blood, gracefully entered the hall. Bowing slightly, he presented the lotus flowers to the princess and said with a smile:

“On my way, I encountered these flowers blooming at night. They suit my wife perfectly, so I brought them for you.”

The next day, news of the imperial decree granting Princess Qinghe the title of Eldest Princess, along with rumors of Pei Zhaoye’s bloody deeds in the palace, spread like wildfire throughout Luoyang.

Because of this incident, Pei Zhaoye faced heavy criticism both within and outside the court.

Even his long-time allies expressed considerable dissatisfaction with him.

For several days after this, Li Zhu felt quietly gloomy.

Pei Zhaoye assumed she was upset about him killing the Palace Attendant and could only helplessly stroke her cheek, remarking that she was too kind-hearted.

But that was not the case.

Li Zhu did not consider herself kind-hearted.

For most of her life, she had learned how to face humiliation.

Sometimes tears were necessary—for instance, when facing those who tormented her like Empress Qin, crying could make them happy enough to leave.

Occasionally, retaliation was required, but only when provoked, and even then, it had to be measured—such as in her dealings with Shen Fu.

Of course, most of the time, she simply had to endure in silence.

Often, her refusal to retaliate was a sign of powerlessness; her endurance and forgiveness were the cowardice of the weak.

Li Zhu despised these traits in her heart, yet she had relied on this very skill to survive until now.

…If only she could be like Yin Zhi.

In her alcohol-hazed vision, the man’s sharply defined jawline came into focus.

His nose was high and prominent, with an angularity uncommon among southerners, while his eyebrows were thick and his gaze intense, carrying the tender affection unique to southerners.

But this was only when he looked at her.

Often, he approached matters with an extreme, gambling nature.

Anyone would act on matters with absolute certainty, but he dared to act even when the odds were only thirty or forty percent—especially in warfare.

Though she often advised him verbally not to act too recklessly, not to always seek decisive victory in a single battle, as it was dangerous.

Yet, Li Zhu also understood that this very trait was what attracted her to him.

The aggressiveness that had been stifled by the palace court, never permitted to manifest in her, found full expression in him.

She watched him from behind.

Watched him act radically, decisively, never considering retreat on her behalf—acting sharply and fiercely for her.

But…

Even so, Li Zhu occasionally felt a subtle sense of dissatisfaction.

What more could she possibly want?

She couldn’t do it herself.

Without him, she could accomplish nothing.

At this thought, Li Zhu felt a lump form in her throat. An unresolved emotion clogged her heart, and could only escape through her tears.

Pei Zhaoye was utterly helpless in the face of her crying.

How that small head contained so much water, he didn’t know—it seemed determined to pour out every last drop.

“I will help you, Princess. I will always love you, Princess.”

He felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his chest as he raised his hand to gently wipe the tears from her face.

"...But first, tell me, who am I?"

His dark eyes held a hint of coaxing, but unfortunately, Li Zhu was too out of it to notice at the moment.

"You're Yin Zhi," she said.

Her tears were still wet on her cheeks, but at the mention of his name, a smile lit up her almond eyes.

She seemed to think she had answered perfectly.

Pei Zhaoye's expression darkened as his large hand gently stroked her hair back.

He asked again, "Who is Yin Zhi?"

"That's you."

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean? I'm so thirsty—give me some water."

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

Li Zhu gulped down a large mouthful, only to be met with a sharp, alcoholic taste on her tongue.

"...This isn't water!"

Pei Zhaoye curved his lips. "Is that so? I must have picked up the wrong one. Drink this instead."

Li Zhu took it and drank again.

"...This is still wine!" Li Zhu snapped angrily.

"My mistake, my mistake. This one is water. Drink up."

This time, Li Zhu finally got suspicious. She sniffed and tasted it, confirming it was truly water before drinking it down.

But she had already been tricked into drinking two cups of wine and was now too drunk to tell up from down.

In her drunken state, Li Zhu felt a wave of conflicting feelings.

"How come you can do it, but I can't?"

She looked at him with an earnest expression.

"What do you mean?"

Li Zhu's fingers traced over his tense thigh and gripped the hilt of the sword at his waist.

"I'm not kind at all. I want to be able to kill too, but I just can't. When I was young, I actually had treasonous ideas, but I searched through every history book, and between the lines, they all told me it was impossible, that it couldn't be done. So I stopped thinking about it."

It took Pei Zhaoye a while to piece together her rambling.

It seemed she had truly been frightened today.

Like a spooked bird, she was blurting out whatever popped into her head.

He said, "You told me to read more books, but I think you’ve read too many. Books are dead; people are alive. The things written in those books you read—weren’t they also thought up and carried out by people? If no one has done something, it won’t be in the books, but who says it can’t be done?"

Li Zhu tilted her head to look at him.

If she were sober, she might have just laughed it off.

But now, gazing at his young, sharp, fearless-looking face, she felt inspired by his confidence.

"Can everything I want to do come true? What if it doesn't work out?"

Pei Zhaoye answered without hesitation: "If I say it can, then it can."

Li Zhu mused drunkenly, no wonder her father liked those smooth-talking eunuchs.

Who doesn’t love hearing such flattery?

Even if you know it’s false, it still sounds so good.

Li Zhu felt her chest swelled up suddenly, filled with an odd feeling of unexpected courage and hope.

"I want—"

Pei Zhaoye looked at her with a teasing smile.

"What do you want?"

Li Zhu: "...I want to write!"

"..."

In her drunken state, Li Zhu suddenly got a scholarly urge and insisted that Pei Zhaoye immediately find her writing materials.

In Red Leaf Village, it wasn’t hard to find weapons or tools, but these items were truly difficult to come by.

Fortunately, Gu Bingan managed to find a brush and ink for her, and Li Zhu was satisfied.

Even without bamboo slips or wooden tablets, that was fine. Her gaze fell on the men practicing wrestling nearby.

When Xuan Ying came back from the kitchen after asking for sober-up soup, she was met with the sight of Li Zhu insisting on writing words on one of the men's backs.

Such ridiculous and improper behavior, yet no one stopped her.

A crowd of bandits gathered around, watching the princess use her brush to write on a man’s back—

"What’s she writing?" asked an illiterate bandit.

Li Zhu pointed at the four characters firmly:

"Loyalty! Devotion! Service! Country!"

The bandits fell silent.

"Good!" Gu Bingan was the first to applaud, followed by a bewildered Dan Zhu.

The one who started it all covered his mouth with his hand, quietly laughing to himself.

Xuan Ying could barely watch the spectacle.

She quickly called over the somewhat drunk Changjun to carry Li Zhu piggyback and asked about where she would sleep for the night.

Pei Zhaoye said, "She can stay in the same courtyard she stayed in last time."

"It sounds like a separate courtyard," Xuan Ying felt much more at ease.

"Please excuse our embarrassment. I will take the princess back to rest now. Chieftain, please continue the feast and do not let us disturb your enjoyment."

Pei Zhaoye smiled and nodded.

The two of them accompanied Li Zhu back to the small courtyard.

The courtyard looked exactly as Li Zhu had left it.

Xuan Ying glanced around and felt her eyes hurt at the sight of the lavish yet tasteless furnishings.

Changjun asked, "Shall I prepare water for a bath?"

"The princess is too drunk; a bath won't be necessary. Find a clean set of nightclothes, and I will wipe her down."

"Alright... Huh? Isn’t this the trunk that was stolen from us before? How did it get returned?"

Changjun opened it and rummaged through. Apart from some of the herbal medicines being used up, everything else seemed untouched.

Even the princess’s favorite golden hairpin was placed on top.

Xuan Ying said musingly,

"That Chieftain really... Never mind. Since the trunk is back, look for the scented water the princess usually uses. The smell of alcohol is hard to get rid of, and if it isn’t cleared away, she won’t sleep well."

"Understood. I’ll go get water and heat it up."

Their conversation drifted out from the inner room to the ears of the man perched on the eaves.

Pei Zhaoye sat with one leg crossed over the other, gazing at the crescent moon in the deep blue night sky, patiently waiting for them to leave.

There were some things he wanted to figure out, and there was no better opportunity than tonight.

That dream about the fall of Red Leaf Village...

At the end of the dream, he was no longer the chieftain of Red Leaf Village. He had killed the three members of the Pei family’s second branch, usurped Pei Shao’s identity, and said he would uphold the Pei family’s honor.

And the princess, who had traveled by boat from Luoyang to this place, had said on the day she met him—

She was Pei Yinzhi’s betrothed.

And then, there was that letter of recommendation bearing Pei Yinzhi’s name.

These doubts had lingered in his mind for a long time, but with so many threads, he had never been able to sort them out—until today, when she drunkenly misspoke, calling him "Yin Zhi" over and over.

The candle had been blown out, and the door closed.

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

In the still night, only the faint scent of alcohol lingered, mingling with the sweet, rich fragrance of flowers drifting through the air.

Li Zhu was not fully asleep. Her dark hair, half-dry, spread across the covers. Half-dreaming, half-awake, she sensed someone approaching her bedside.

The dark figure stood still by her bed.

"...Yin Zhi, why haven’t you gone to bathe yet?"

Li Zhu slowly lifted her eyelids, glanced at him, and closed them again.

"You smell so strongly of alcohol. Don’t even think about getting into bed until you’re clean."

"..."

Her soft voice stirred countless ripples in his ears.

Pei Zhaoye had no parents and had never seen how an ordinary couple interacted in private, but in his imagination, it must have been something like this.

He slowly crouched down, took her loosely hanging, pale wrist, and gently kneaded it.

"If I get clean, may I join the princess in bed?"

Li Zhu, half-asleep, murmured in assent and then murmured softly,

"Are you tired?"

Pei Zhaoye’s expression softened as he gazed at her sleeping face, a tenderness he had never known before.

"A little."

"...Then never mind." She closed her eyes and scooted over, mumbling, "Just this once. Don’t do it again next time."

He touched her half-damp hair at her temples.

"No need. I’ll go bathe in a moment."

Pei Zhaoye still remembered he was here to pry for information.

Yet, looking at her flushed face and slightly parted lips, he realized he was truly a scoundrel.

Once he sensed that she might have known him long ago and shared an unusual connection with him—

The desire he had suppressed for so long burst forth like a breached dam, pouring out relentlessly, stirring his gaze and body into restlessness.

"Princess?"

Li Zhu hummed vaguely in response.

His voice lowered to a low, coaxing tone, "Let me kiss you first, then I’ll go."

Nearly asleep, Li Zhu obediently raised herself, kissed him, and then collapsed back into sleep.

Little did she know, she was playing with fire. The next moment, searing breath and kisses descended on her.

A soft tongue toyed with her earlobe, the suggestive, wet sounds dominating her hearing.

A large hand cupped the side of her face, fingers threading through her dark hair as he drew her partly into his arms, kissing her with tender restraint from her earlobe down to her neck.

"Can I kiss here too?"

He looked up from where he was nuzzling.

The corners of his eyes flushed with emotion, his lips glossy and flushed red from sucking and licking, giving him a captivating allure.

Her pale neck lay pliant in the crook of his arm. Drowsiness and drunkenness left Li Zhu too weak to open her eyes, capable only of soft, disjointed murmurs.

"Good."

His tongue, pierced with a silver ring, traced a path over her skin. Li Zhu shuddered. The air seemed to thin, her breathing quickened, and she writhed faintly.

"...No more, I'm so sleepy."

"Just a little longer, alright?" His tone was soft as water.

Yet only Li Zhu knew his kisses were becoming more intense.

The air gradually warmed, breaths fell out of rhythm; Pei Zhaoye’s entire senses were filled with her fresh, sweet, but not overwhelming scent.

It was driving him almost crazy.

"Your hand... your hand..."

She pressed her foot against the crook of his arm, sobbing softly, though not unhappily.

"Is it not allowed?"

He asked, as if negotiating, polite in his manner.

"It’s probably okay, because it’s not someone else—it’s Yin Zhi, right?"

The girl in his arms hooked her hands around his neck, her clear, glistening eyes grew thoughtful before she nodded after a moment.

"Mhm, because it’s Yin Zhi, it’s okay."

"..."

Pei Zhaoye suddenly pulled his hand back.

In an instant, his expression turned intensely complicated.