Chapter 50

Chapter 50

The snow had yet to fall in Luoyang, but the weather grew colder with each passing day.

A biting wind swept through the wide sleeves of the court officials as they descended the long steps of Jiade Hall in small clusters, their footsteps hurried after the morning court session.

Tan Jing led the way, the cheerful chatter of the Grand Tutor and others trailing behind him.

They were all staunch members of the War Faction.

In two consecutive court sessions, the War Faction officials had exerted every effort to push for Princess Qinghe’s proposed Refugee Army strategy.

The Peace Faction, led by Tan Jing, was not to be outdone, immediately refuting the proposal by highlighting the Refugee Army’s inherent flaws.

The debates were fierce and unyielding.

Ultimately, however, Emperor Mingzhao issued an edict, sanctioning the implementation of the Refugee Army’s military policy.

“...The Grand Tutor’s faction is gaining formidable momentum, and Princess Qinghe’s true intentions are even more inscrutable. Minister, you must be quite vexed, aren’t you?”

Tan Jing cast a sidelong glance at the speaker—it was Chancellor Xue Yun.

He looked straight ahead. “We are all devoted to the Great Yong. Occasional disagreements are but minor ripples; why would I be vexed? Princess Qinghe’s success in pacifying Jiangzhou and quelling the Yanshan uprising is a great fortune for the Great Yong. Don’t you agree, Chancellor Xue?”

Xue Yun offered a silent smile, tapping a finger meaningfully at Tan Jing.

This old fox surely knew that the Xue family had everything meticulously prepared, awaiting only the opportune moment to seize power and legitimately contend for the empire.

Yet, Princess Qinghe and that so-called Bandit Chief of Red Leaf Village had abruptly thwarted that very opportunity.

A princess…

What exactly was a princess trying to achieve?

Xue Yun flicked his sleeves and departed.

Inside the hall, the eunuch Luo Feng emerged with the imperial edict. Tan Jing watched his retreating figure, his gaze deep in thought.

Emperor Mingzhao had not directly appointed Princess Qinghe to command the Refugee Army, but he had entrusted her with the authority to appoint its commander.

Who she would choose for the position was, without a doubt, clear.

Upon returning to his residence, Tan Jing wasted no time. Dipping his brush in ink, he wrote four characters:

【杀裴照野】 (Kill Pei Zhaoye)

The messenger horses were changed five times, galloping day and night to deliver the letter to the Tan residence with utmost speed.

By then, however, the Tan residence was already in utter disarray.

“…Hurry and put out the fire! Move faster, everyone!”

The west wing, the east wing, the inner storerooms… though the fire was not extensive enough to engulf the entire estate in flames, it still left the household scrambling and overwhelmed.

“Where are the men?”

Tan Rong seized the steward by the collar, his eyes wide with fury, his entire demeanor radiating menace.

“Reporting to the General… everyone is currently occupied with fighting the fire. We truly cannot spare any hands at this moment…”

“There are so many people in this mansion, yet you can’t spare anyone to catch him? Meanwhile, he alone managed to ransack the entire household from top to bottom—is that what you’re implying?”

That scoundrel had not only stealthily stolen seventy percent of the household’s gold, silver, and valuables without a trace, but he had also tied up Tan Xun in his room!

Even without Tan Jing’s letter, he would have killed him regardless!

Tan Rong gasped for breath, clutching his chest as he declared:

“The back mountain… he must have escaped through the back mountain. Go to the camp immediately and gather soldiers to search along the back mountain! Leave no cave or cliff unchecked—don’t overlook anything. Once you find him, there’s no need to report to me. Kill him on sight!”

“Yes, General!”

Tan Rong gazed at the flames under the night sky, his ears seemingly catching the sound of urgent drumbeats mingling with the chaotic footsteps around him, as if racing against time.

Several military advisors were heading out to carry out the orders when suddenly, someone came to report:

“General, Princess Qinghe is here.”

At the sound of that name, Tan Rong’s temple throbbed:

“What about the Princess? She must be here to demand the man. Tell her there’s a fire in my residence, and I have no time to receive Her Highness. Have her wait outside!”

“That won’t do, General. The Princess… she has come by imperial decree—”

A blazing wooden beam, snapped by the fire, crashed down with a deafening roar, shattering into fragments.

Madam Guo stood at the front gate of the courtyard, watching as the Princess arrived with a grand retinue of several hundred people.

Her eyes calmly swept over the crowd. Though they carried weapons and wore armor, their attire did not match the official military uniform. She knew these were the bandits from Red Leaf Village who had seized provisions at Yixian Valley.

“Greetings, Princess Qinghe.”

Li Zhu looked at the woman bowing respectfully before her, her tightly pressed lips twitching slightly.

“Changjun, announce the decree.”

Madam Guo said, “Your Highness, please wait. There is a fire in the residence tonight, and my husband is busy fighting the flames. I’m afraid he cannot step away. Perhaps we should wait until the fire is somewhat under control, and then let him personally—”

Before she could finish, Li Zhu interrupted swiftly:

“Since you and General Tan Rong are one as husband and wife, and I am here by imperial decree to find someone, you can hear the decree in his place.”

Li Zhu thought to herself, *We’re out of time.*

They might have already received the news. If she were Tan Rong, she would never give Pei Zhaoye a chance to escape alive.

Madam Guo bowed her head to listen to the decree.

As expected, Emperor Mingzhao had approved the Refugee Army’s proposal and had granted Princess Qinghe the authority to recruit troops and select a Refugee Commander.

“I have already sent someone to the camp to inquire. Pei Zhaoye was indeed brought into the residence by General Tan and held captive. I do not know his current whereabouts.”

Madam Guo replied, “Your Highness, you’ve arrived too late. Pei Zhaoye set the residence on fire and has already escaped. His whereabouts are unknown, and my husband is also sending people to search for him.”

“Stop pretending!”

A bandit behind Li Zhu shouted furiously:

“Do you take us for fools? You had our Chieftain tied to a horse and dragged him all the way here. He’s gravely wounded—how in the world could he have gotten up to set this fire? Where have you hidden our Chieftain?”

“Do not be disrespectful to the General’s wife,” Li Zhu interrupted with a frown.

Madam Guo remained composed, her expression unchanged.

Li Zhu locked eyes with her.

Clenching her slightly sweaty hands inside her sleeves, Li Zhu smiled and said:

“The court has already assigned the official title of General of the Northern Garrison to the Refugee Commander. Pei Zhaoye is my appointed Refugee Commander, responsible for mobilizing and training the Hezhou bandits and Yanshan refugees.”

“General Tan is a general, and General Pei is also a general. Since when does one general arrest another? Don’t you agree, Madam Guo?”

The young princess stood in the night snow, her skin fair and her features delicate, still bearing a hint of youthful innocence.

Yet her gaze was firm, and her words struck deep, every word resonating with conviction.

Madam Guo remained silent for a moment before lowering her head and saying:

“The estate is heavily guarded. Even if General Pei started the fire, he probably only escaped through the mountain behind the estate. We are currently searching along that route. If the Princess cannot wait, you may also send your own team to assist in the search.”

Li Zhu dared not let them find Pei Zhaoye first.

She immediately turned and gave the order to head for the mountain.

Tan Rong stepped out from around the corner and said to those beside him, “Follow them. We must get there before they do.”

The night was deep, and the leaves rustled. The two groups spread out like a fine net along the mountain range.

“…Princess, the mountain is too dark. It’s too dangerous for you. Leave the search to us…”

Before Gu Bingan could finish, Li Zhu hiked up the hem of her skirts and swiftly caught up with the group.

“No, you can’t hold your ground. Even if you find Pei Zhaoye, they might still try to snatch him. I must be there!”

“…That makes sense.”

Gu Bingan watched her figure ahead and suddenly remembered that although the young princess usually appeared delicate and frail, when it came to matters of life and death, she could run faster than anyone.

Li Zhu’s heart felt as if it were about to leap out of her throat, but her mind was racing.

This was the Tan family’s territory. In terms of familiarity with the terrain, the Red Leaf Village folks were no match for them. But she was the only one who truly understood Pei Zhaoye.

Pei Zhaoye was severely injured. Even if he managed to escape, he would be extremely weak.

Where would he hide?

A cave?

Under a cliff?

Or at the bottom of a valley?

If he felt he was dying, where would he go?

Li Zhu stumbled over a protruding rock in the mountain and fell face-first into the dirty snow.

“Princess!” Changjun and Dan Zhu, who were ahead, immediately stopped.

Li Zhu scrambled to her feet, brushing the snow and mud off her face.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me—”

She blinked, as if she’d had an idea.

“I’ve got it. Dan Zhu, you head for the mountainside. Gu Bingan, take your team down to the stream below. Changjun and I will go to the mountaintop.”

The mountaintop?

Gu Bingan said, “The mountaintop is open and offers no hiding spots. Why would the Chieftain go there…”

“Hurry! You need to draw the others away! Any later and it’ll be too late!”

Li Zhu was right.

At that moment, some of the men sent by Tan Rong were searching ahead, while others followed closely behind, waiting to strike like a mantis stalking its prey.

In this critical moment, Gu Bingan stood at the fork in the path and thought for just a second.

“Be careful, Princess.”

“I will!”

Li Zhu dashed toward the mountain peak.

The Tan family’s rear mountain belonged to the same range as Yanshan, situated at the highest point of Wan County.

The wind howled, and sharp branches whipped against Li Zhu’s face, but she paid no mind, plowing upward with her head down.

The deep blue sky gradually lightened.

The morning sun rose in the east, and the northern rivers and mountains emerged under the dawn light.

All was quiet, and the cold mountain breeze tousled her hair.

Pei Zhaoye leaned against a large rock, gazing at the distant mountains and rivers, waiting for his strength to return—or for death to approach.

Death held no fear for him.

In his short twenty years of life, he’d always been familiar with death.

As a child, he faced starvation. A child born to a courtesan should have been smothered at birth, but he survived thanks to the kindness of those courtesans and dancers.

As he grew older, the Pei family discovered he dared to steal from and brawl with guests to defend those courtesans and dancers, often hanging him from a tree and whipping him.

His skin was thick, and he felt no pain.

The only time he truly felt pain was when he entered Luoyang at fourteen.

Young and reckless, he had learned of his biological father from Pei Conglu’s records. Filled with a desperate courage to save his mother and a longing for his father, he journeyed to Luoyang.

He paid with half his life and his tongue, yet he never even laid eyes on Tan Jing.

He heard that Tan Jing had taken his legitimate eldest son to Mang Mountain for hunting, teaching him archery and horsemanship himself.

Meanwhile, his true eldest son, bleeding in the cracks of the bricks, still breathing, was wrapped in a mat and discarded in a mass grave to die.

He disliked Luoyang, disliked those frivolous nobles of Luoyang.

Their elegant robes were light, their sheer silk garments floating like mist in the wind.

A person's fate is fragile; with a single word, they could block his path to military service, ensuring he could never honorably fulfill his aspirations in his lifetime.

…Then he might as well turn to banditry.

What’s so bad about being an outlaw?

Laws, rules, social hierarchies—all would be shattered by the sword.

It didn’t matter if he operated in darkness, nor if others cursed him. At least his life was his own to command, not like a stray dog on the roadside, vulnerable to kicks or death by anyone.

Even in death, he would die with dignity.

His eyelids felt heavy, and he heard what sounded like footsteps. Pei Zhaoye’s grip on his sword tightened.

Yet—

Before fate could deliver death to him.

“Pei Zhaoye!”

His beloved found him first.

Pei Zhaoye remained in his sword-drawing stance but collapsed into a soft, fragrant embrace.

He froze abruptly.

“…I found you. I knew I would find you.”

The red sun rose dramatically, and in the breaking dawn, Li Zhu held him tightly.

Drip, drip.

Burning-hot tears splashed against the back of his neck.

She knew he would be here.

No matter how well someone disguises themselves, they face their true heart when death is near.

She still remembered the Deputy General who had escorted the remains home in her previous life, telling her:

When the Grand Marshal was in his final moments of clarity, he asked us to carry him to the summit of the Goddess Tower. He said that from there, he could see the mountains and the moon.

The mountains were those of the eleven northern provinces, the moon was the moon of Luoyang.

He died cradled by mountains under the moon.

But in this life, he slowly returned her embrace, exhaling a long-pent-up anguish from his chest.

Somewhere in his heart felt light, as if immersed in warmth.

“I thought the princess would slap me first upon seeing me again.”

He laughed lowly.

For a moment, Li Zhu was momentarily confused, uncertain who was speaking those words to her.

Her heart clenched with sadness, turning into more tears that welled up.

No matter who it was.

He was her husband.

“…In your dreams,” she sniffled. “One slap wouldn’t be enough.”

Pei Zhaoye released her, gazing at her face streaked with tears and small scratches. He wanted to wipe them away, but his hands were too bloodstained.

“Why are you alone?”

“I sent Changjun to get help. They’ll be here soon.”

She quickly briefed him about the situation with the Refugee Army.

She pressed the imperial edict she had been carrying into his arms.

“The Refugee Army doesn’t belong to the imperial army. You don’t have to appear at court or play political games. If the North invades, you can fight them. If Nan Yong breeds rebels, you kill the rebels. Beyond that, you have freedom here.”

“You don’t have to obey my father. You only need to be the General Who Guards the North who obeys me. Is that alright?”

Pei Zhaoye grasped the bloodstained imperial decree.

He didn’t know how much effort she had put in behind the scenes, how much hardship she had endured to devise such a win-win solution.

“Alright,” he said. “I will only obey the princess.”

Li Zhu looked at his injuries, her lips trembled, and her tears fell faster.

“Pei Zhaoye, does it hurt?”

The robe he had taken from Tan Xun was once again drenched in blood.

His lips were deathly pale and bloodless.

Pei Zhaoye looked at her tear-streaked face before him. He knew he should feel heartache for her, yet he selfishly felt stirred by her tears.

He hated Luoyang, hated the nobles of Luoyang.

But he loved her so, so much.

She worried for him, shed tears for him, traversed mountains and rivers, and loved him without reservation.

“…It hurts so much.”

Though much larger than her, he buried his head in the crook of her neck, weary and wounded.

All his resentment and discontent were soothed by her soothing sweetness.

“Princess, it hurts so much.”

Li Zhu’s heart felt as if a piece had been torn out, bleeding endlessly.

The sunlight illuminated the world's landscape. The fading moon dissolved; the moon was not in the sky but in his arms.

Tan Rong soon received news that Pei Zhaoye had been rescued.

She actually managed to reach him first!

How did she even find him? Their people had clearly been tracking those bandits all along!

“The deed is done. Your injuries haven’t healed yet, husband. Don’t upset yourself. Wins and losses are soldier's daily fare; this isn’t the end.”

Madam Guo consoled gently.

Tan Rong: “How could I not be angry! They found him and should have just slipped back quietly, but they had to send someone to deliver a message, saying they were in a hurry and asking us to prepare a carriage—isn’t that just deliberately provocative?”

This Princess Qinghe—how come I never noticed before that she had such a sly, underhanded nature?

Yet, no matter how unwilling Tan Rong was, Madam Guo would still handle the social formalities for him.

Not only did she prepare carriages and horses at the foot of the mountain, but she also dragged the scowling Tan Rong along to see them off personally, with Tan Xun also present.

At the end of the mountain path, a man in bloodstained clothes walked slowly, his walk slightly slowed.

Beside him, Princess Qinghe’s face turned cold the moment she met Tan Rong’s gaze. Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but in the end, she held back.

Madam Guo, calm and composed, said politely:

“General Pei is so severely injured—why not stay at our residence for a few days to recuperate before moving on?”

Before Li Zhu could speak, Pei Zhaoye’s light, casual tone chimed in first.

“Madam Guo, you’re too kind. Your residence must be quite strained for resources these days—we wouldn’t want to add to your burdens.”

Tan Rong, his face dark, took half a step forward but was stopped by Tan Xun.

Li Zhu looked at Pei Zhaoye, puzzled.

What did he mean by “strained for resources”?

He raised his hand to wipe his nose, then leaned close to her ear and said with a laugh:

“Earlier, when I was scouting around for a day and couldn’t find a way out, I got bored hiding, so I took some items, stuffed them into a large chest, and tossed it into the stream at the back mountain. After we leave, they can send someone to secretly retrieve it.”

Li Zhu took a quiet gasp, her eyes widening.

Even while injured, he still found time to steal their things!

Tan Xun looked at Pei Zhaoye:

“With the Tan family’s wealth, losing a bit of treasure and valuables isn’t enough to make us strained. But since General Pei is unwilling to stay, we won’t insist. I only hope General Pei recovers soon. If you’re captured on the battlefield in the future, I’m afraid there may be no chance of survival.”

Pei Zhaoye looked down with contempt at this half-brother of his.

“Hard to say.”

“Perhaps by then, I’ll also have a wife who can anticipate every outcome—even if there’s no hope, she’ll create an opportunity for me—General Tan, Madam Guo, what do you think?”

Pei Zhaoye watched, smiling, as Tan Rong stormed off angrily, sleeves fluttering.