Chapter 95

Chapter 95

The autumn night was clear, with frost blanketing the palace tiles of Luoyang.

Outside Xianyang Palace, where Princess Qinghe resided, the night-shift palace servants gathered in small groups, exchanging stories of what they had seen and heard during their journey back to Luoyang Palace.

"...It’s really true, just as the rumors say—the consort was originally a mountain bandit king..."

"Still, the consort is valiant and heroic. He fought desperately to expand Her Highness’s territory and escorted her all the way into Luoyang. He’s quite worthy of Her Highness."

"But Princess Qinghe is now Crown Princess. It doesn’t seem right to refer to General Pei as the consort anymore..."

"What should we call him then?"

"I’m not sure. Perhaps we’ll have to wait for the Minister of Ceremonies and others to reassess the proper titles and protocols."

"It’s hard to believe. When Her Highness left the palace, she was just a child. How is it that in the blink of an eye, even Prime Minister Xue and Chief Secretary Tan are no match for her?"

"Exactly, exactly."

Several servants who had watched Li Zhu grow up sighed with emotion.

Princess Qinghe might not possess the exceptional talent and vision of previous rulers.

But she would certainly be more diligent in governance than Emperor Mingzhao.

And she would surely be more benevolent than Crown Prince Shen Fu.

No one knew where the future fate of Nan Yong would lead.

But at least, under the moonlight of this night, as the news of Princess Qinghe’s imminent official appointment as Crown Princess spread throughout Luoyang Palace, every servant felt a renewed sense of hope for the future.

However...

Hearing the intermittent, faint sounds from inside the hall, the servants couldn’t help but worry inwardly:

Would Her Highness, with her great ambitions yet unfulfilled, be worn out first by that rough-and-tumble military man?

That general’s arm is thicker than Her Highness’s leg.

The servants glanced back repeatedly, anxious and uneasy. Half an hour later, the noises inside subsided slightly.

The head servant breathed a sigh of relief.

But within a quarter of an hour, soft, sobbing cries once again rippled through the quiet night.

They endured for another half hour.

When the bell was rung for water, it was brought in, but less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea later, the sound of splashing water resumed, turbulent and unceasing.

"...Let me go! Let me in! How can Her Highness’s delicate body endure such reckless treatment!"

The other servants quickly restrained the head servant.

This was nothing compared to before. Back in Wenling, when the princess indulged General Pei the most, it didn’t stop until almost dawn.

But at this moment, Li Zhu thought she couldn’t last until dawn—not even another moment longer.

Her slender, weak fingers clung to the patterned window lattice. Li Zhu’s hair was damp, sticking to her flushed, burning cheeks. Though she stood barefoot on the floor, she felt as if she were floating in water, swaying without support.

"...No... Pei Zhaoye... can we go back to the bed? Not here..."

Pei Zhaoye steadied her waist, which had gone completely soft and limp.

"Hah... Where’s the problem?"

He took her hand and placed it on her slightly bulging lower abdomen. Touching that shape made the tips of Li Zhu’s ears burn as if they might drip blood.

"So impressive... You’ve taken it all in."

Nibbling on her earlobe, Pei Zhaoye asked softly amid the sticky sounds of kisses:

"Li Zhu, did he pleasure you better, or do I pleasure you better?"

Li Zhu turned her head, looking at the shameless man with a pitiful yet utterly shocked expression.

"You... How can you ask such an indecent question!"

He tilted his head and captured her lips, nibbling and licking gently.

"Only by being shameless can I pleasure Your Highness well. He’s so proper—you must be more satisfied with me, right?"

"..."

Li Zhu wished she could faint on the spot.

"Not answering? Pretending you didn’t hear?"

Pei Zhaoye slowly straightened up. His abdominal muscles were firm, glistening with droplets of water splashed during their fervor, shimmering in the dim lamplight.

He thrust forward once more.

The overwhelming fullness made Li Zhu gasp for breath, but she still retorted indignantly:

"...He was better!"

Pei Zhaoye’s pupils contracted.

"He never bullied me like this!"

In the past, such words might have truly hurt him.

But Pei Zhaoye had just heard her tender, affectionate confession earlier. Now, seeing her feign anger, he felt only tenderness and softness in his heart.

"How did I bully you?"

He slowed his movements, turning her over and holding her against his waist as he carried her toward the bed.

As he pressed down on her, Pei Zhaoye kissed her hair and chuckled softly:

"You don’t even have to exert any effort. When have I not made sure you’re satisfied before taking my turn?"

Li Zhu hurriedly covered his mouth.

Pei Zhaoye didn’t speak, just stared into her eyes, his tongue flicking against her soft palm. Li Zhu shuddered, unable to bear it, and had to let go.

He couldn’t help but laugh. How could she be so ticklish, so easily tired, and so sensitive to pain?

"Fine, if you don’t want to answer, forget it."

Pei Zhaoye nuzzled noses with her, letting out a feigned sigh:

“When you live with a woman, you've gotta turn a blind eye sometimes. The general gets to have his fun, and gets his kicks at night too—can't have all the good things coming my way, right?”

Li Zhu’s cheeks flushed red, and she covered her mouth, turning away with a laugh.

“…Just teasing you.”

She let out a delicate, flirtatious hum.

“In matters like this, you're both as bad as each other—you're both terrible!”

Gently rubbing her cheek with his thumb, Pei Zhaoye’s gaze held a tenderness even he himself hadn’t noticed.

“Let me tease Your Highness one last time. Otherwise, I’m afraid… what if I never get another chance?”

Li Zhu bit his lip in mock indignation.

The curtains billowed until morning light.

For the next three days, the entire Xianyang Palace was busy relocating during the day, but Pei Zhaoye was solely occupied with sharing intimate moments with the future mistress of the Eastern Palace.

On the fourth day, Luoyang finally settled back into calm.

On the day the decree appointing the Crown Princess was announced to the world, Xuan Ying lit an incense stick before the spirit tablet of the late empress.

She recited the decree from beginning to end before the tablet, tears glistening in the young female attendant’s eyes.

“By Your Highness’s side, there are civil officials devoted to their duty and generals with unwavering bravery. She will not be like Your Majesty, driven to risk her life when danger struck.”

“Your Majesty did your best, and so has Your Highness. If spirits truly exist in the heavens, Your Majesty, you needn't worry about Her Highness anymore.”

Meanwhile, Li Zhu was showing her new officials around the halls and chambers of the Eastern Palace.

It was here that Li Zhu truly felt like a Crown Princess.

At the front stood the Xuanzheng Hall for receiving officials and handling Eastern Palace affairs; beside it was the Chongming Hall, which served as a study where the grand tutor gave lectures; further back were living quarters and a garden for the crown princess to relax and enjoy—practically a miniature court all its own.

Appointed as a Central Attendant with a rank of six hundred *dan*, Gu Bingan wasn't much interested in anything else.

After a quick look-around of the Eastern Palace, he went straight to his duty room. Running his fingers over the desk and classical texts, he let out a long sigh.

Picking the right master really does lead one down the right path.

If he hadn’t followed the Chieftain into becoming an outlaw back then, how could he enjoy such a prosperous life today, where even the dogs and chickens rise along with their master?

Dan Zhu followed behind him, glancing around curiously.

“Your duty room is quite nice, and you can even see the garden outside… But when it comes to scenery, the grand residence Her Highness bestowed upon me is truly beautiful—right next to Luoyang Palace. Want me to show you tomorrow?”

Gu Bingan gave her a sidelong glance.

“How could this humble official dare refuse an invitation from the Valiant Cavalry General, ranked at a thousand *dan*?”

Dan Zhu flashed a wide grin.

But when it came to rising straight to the top, no one surpassed Xie Ji, personally recruited by Emperor Mingzhao and appointed as Junior Tutor to the Crown Princess.

—Word was Emperor Mingzhao had initially wanted Xie Ji to take over as chancellor outright, but Xie Ji declined yet again, so angering the emperor that he called for a doctor right then and there.

Eventually, Li Zhu came as soon as she heard the news and persuaded Emperor Mingzhao to change the decree, posting Xie Ji to the Eastern Palace as Junior Tutor.

Though junior to Senior Tutor Zheng, the role held greater actual authority, overseeing all subordinate officials of the Eastern Palace.

Only someone like Xie Ji could hold his own against Tan Xun, appointed as Superintendent of the Household of the Crown Princess and managing all general affairs of the Eastern Palace.

“By the way,” Dan Zhu looked around and nudged Gu Bingan, “why isn’t that Tan Xun here?”

Come to think of it, he hadn’t been seen at Xuanyang Gate that day either.

Gu Bingan said leisurely:

“Him?… With Tan Jing’s downfall, the Tan family surely has a pile of problems waiting for their eldest son to take charge. Rather than having him wander around the Eastern Palace, these days, if he can take on the Tan family’s troubles and tidy them up properly, that would be the greatest help to Her Highness.”

While the Eastern Palace basked in bright sunshine, the imperial prison was dark and damp, reeking of mildew.

Tan Jing sat quietly in his cell, meditating with his eyes closed.

“…Yesterday, I returned home and happened to arrive as Madam Ning gave birth. Rest assured, both mother and daughter are well, though the child has yet to be named. We hope you will bestow a name, Father.”

Kneeling in front of him, Tan Xun calmly laid out the dishes he had brought on the meal tray.

After a long silence, Tan Jing spoke:

“You are now the head of the Tan family. A name's just a small thing—do as you wish.”

“Just because she isn’t the son you hoped for, her name, her upbringing—none of it matters to you, is that it?”

At first, Tan Xun’s voice remained steady, but by the end, it was thick with anger he could barely hold back.

Tan Jing slowly opened his eyes.

“She is your sister, a member of the Tan family. You will raise her well, along with the rest of the Tan clan—all this time, you’ve been working tirelessly to protect as many of our clansmen as possible from being implicated by me, haven’t you?”

Tan Xun was taken aback.

“Placing the Tan family in your hands, I have no worries. After today, there’s no need for you to come again.”

His words were calm and rational, yet the noble young man across from him his eyes reddened instantly.

His father had always been strict with him since childhood, and he had revered him like a deity. This was the first time his father had expressed approval—Tan Xun was deeply moved.

“Father…”

“Father my ass. He wanted to father another son to replace you as heir, and now with just one sentence, you’re ready to forgive him again? You fool.”

A voice full of mockery echoed through the prison.

Tan Xun’s expression changed abruptly as he looked toward the darkness.

A man with sharply cut ink-black hair, dressed in dark blue robes, leaned casually against the back wall, his steps unhurried.

Watching this display of father-son affection, Pei Zhaoye curled his lips:

“As expected of an educated man, your words are so refined. Handing it over to your son? More like he wasn’t stupid enough to pick the wrong side. You’ve run out of moves—stop pretending.”

Every word was a merciless jab. Tan Jing’s temples throbbed with anger.

Tan Xun looked at him with mixed feelings.

By now, he was well aware of the complicated ties between this man and the Tan family.

No wonder he had wanted him dead from their very first meeting.

No wonder his mother both hated and feared him.

Tan Jing fixed his gaze on him: "If I'd known it would come to this, I should never have let you escape alive to Wan County back then."

Pei Zhaoye's eyes instantly turned ice-cold.

"Back then, I arranged a marriage for your mother and prepared a dowry. If it weren't for you—and her fear that they wouldn't accept you in her husband’s family—she wouldn’t have insisted on remaining unmarried, growing old and dying alone in the Pei residence. Pei Zhaoye, you should never have been born. You are the one who killed your mother."

Having been immersed in government circles for years, Tan Jing knew all too well how to find a person’s vulnerability.

Whether the words held truth didn’t matter; what mattered was that they could easily enrage the other, making him lose all reason and making his fury boil over.

Pei Zhaoye did not refute him.

Because, at this moment, he only wanted Tan Jing dead.

"—Elder brother, wait."

Tan Xun suddenly stepped in, blocking the man radiating killing intent.

Pei Zhaoye’s eyes shifted.

"Are you insane?"

Tan Xun was stunned by his response. He took a deep breath, his tone sincere and humble:

"Our blood connection is an undeniable fact. No matter how many wrongs Father has done you, he is now facing death. Elder brother, I beg you, for the sake of the blood ties between father and son, let him die with dignity."

By the Xuanyang Gate, his slapping incident had become known throughout Luoyang.

He wouldn’t be surprised by any unthinkable thing Pei Zhaoye might commit if left unchecked.

Tan Xun truly did not wish to see his father—a famous scholar and powerful minister—meet such an undignified end.

"Are you addicted to cleaning up the messes of your family?"

Pei Zhaoye curled his lip and released his grip on the prison bars.

He stared at Tan Xun for a moment.

"Fine. I’ll let him die with dignity. I can even bury him properly. What will you give me in exchange?"

Exchange?

Tan Xun frowned.

Pei Zhaoye had now been appointed as the General of the Swift Cavalry, with a salary of ten thousand *dan* and a rank equal to the Three Excellencies. He was soon to depart for the Divine Maiden Tower to fight Northern Yue.

He couldn’t imagine what Pei Zhaoye could possibly want from him.

After a moment’s thought, Tan Xun said, "Whatever I possess, I will do my best."

...

On the fifth day of the twelfth month, as snow was about to fall, Luoyang received military reports from the border.

Northern Yue had launched a massive offensive, and several border cities had become battlegrounds. Aside from the areas defended by commander-in-chief Tan Rong and Guo Shaoyin, most other fronts were struggling to hold their ground.

Emperor Mingzhao issued an edict appointing General of the Swift Cavalry Pei Zhaoye as Grand Marshal of the Three Armies, granting him command over all military affairs. He was to lead a hundred thousand troops to reinforce the front lines and launch a campaign against Northern Yue.

"...Once I head to the border, I’m afraid I won’t be able to bring back as fine a gift as white jade pearls. If what I bring doesn’t please you, will you be angry with me?"

Snowflakes fell like crane feathers outside the Xuanyang Gate. Pei Zhaoye straightened Li Zhu's cloak.

Her face, red at the tip of her nose, was tucked into the furry collar, her eyes glistening with tears, seeming to hold countless unspoken words.

But in the end, she only said:

"I will."

"If it doesn’t suit my taste, don’t expect a thoughtful gift on your next birthday—"

Li Zhu gripped his wrist, pouting as she struggled to contain her emotions.

"Your twenty-first birthday, your twenty-second, and many more to come... If you return too late, I’ll give the gifts I prepared for you to someone else. Understand?"

Her eyes widened. Though her words were a threat, her almond-shaped eyes were filled with earnestness, tear-filled eyes that melted his heart inch by inch.

Pei Zhaoye lowered his gaze, his voice gentle: "Understood. Go back now."

Li Zhu nodded distractedly.

The Crown Princess’s retinue waited in the wind and snow, but Li Zhu remained still.

"You must end the war as soon as possible. Great Yong hasn’t recovered its strength this year—we don’t have enough supplies to supply you!"

"I’ll try my best."

"...But don’t push yourself too hard. If a quick victory isn’t possible, I will also find a way to gather supplies for you!"

Snowflakes whispered as they fell on his cold armor.

Pei Zhaoye’s throat tightened.

His dark eyes lingered on her, his feet as if rooted to the spot by the heavy snow, almost unable to move.

But she was the first to let go.

Tears welling in her eyes, her face appeared translucent and bright against the snow. Li Zhu smiled:

"Heroes on horseback do not look back. I await your honorable and triumphant return!"

The Crown Princess’s carriage departed toward the palace.

Amid the wind and snow, the soldiers passed through the gates of Luoyang.

The world was vast—a journey of countless rivers and mountains. Winter gave way to spring, and three seasons had passed.

Great Yong endured three years of war and turmoil.

During these three years, Li Zhu worked tirelessly, studying governance under the Grand Tutor and Xie Ji while working with Gu Bingan to summon subordinate officials, planning how to gather supplies and constructing supply routes, without a moment's rest.

Occasionally, Li Zhu would write letters to Pei Zhaoye, telling him about the everyday happenings in Luoyang.

For instance, the granddaughter of Imperial Censor-in-Chief Xu Mengxuan fell in love with Gu Bingan at first sight during the Lantern Festival, throwing tantrums demanding to marry him.

Yet Gu Bingan, who was solely focused on advancing his official career, met a peasant girl while out procuring provisions and became smitten, refusing outright to marry the Xu family’s daughter.

He even said that if Li Zhu didn’t promote him after she ascended the throne, it wouldn’t matter—a middling rank would be best, so he’d have time during the autumn harvest to help that peasant girl’s family harvest rice.

Another example: Changjun was now the head eunuch of the inner court, and with Luo Feng, the constant attendant by Emperor Mingzhao’s side, it was a case of two tigers unable to share one mountain—the two factions were locked in fierce rivalry.

Li Zhu had Pei Zhaoye tell Dan Zhu to remember to support Changjun upon returning.

As for Emperor Mingzhao, he gradually handed over court affairs to Li Zhu. With more free time, his obsession with immortality cultivation faded considerably, shifting instead to a keen interest in Li Zhu’s future heir.

A female ruler was fundamentally different from a male one.

After much thought, Emperor Mingzhao felt Li Zhu ought to have several imperial husbands—preferably without certainty of paternity—to prevent any risk of a father using his son’s status to rebel in the future.

Li Zhu immediately wrote a letter, urging Pei Zhaoye to be cautious in all matters while away.

If anything were to happen to him, the Eastern Palace would soon be filled with a host of promising young men.

Pei Zhaoye’s replies were much terser.

Beyond responding to the contents of Li Zhu’s letters, his own updates could be summarized in just three phrases.

Killed to my satisfaction this month.

Didn’t get to kill enough this month.

I want to kill, I want to kill, I want to kill.

Li Zhu: “…”

When he returns, he really ought to read more books!

In the summer of the 23rd year of Mingzhao, the three-year-long war finally reached its most critical battle.

The main army of Nan Yong crossed the Divine Maiden Ridge and arrived at Northern Yue’s most strategic frontier pass.

What terrified Li Zhu even more was that the course of this battle almost entirely matched that of her past life.

The King of Northern Yue took personal command, exploiting Pei Zhaoye’s eagerness for a quick victory by flanking the main force, cutting off reinforcements, and luring him deeper in.

Upon reading this military report, Li Zhu immediately summoned court officials for discussion in the Xuanzheng Hall.

But aside from urging the grain supply officers to avoid waterways—to prevent Northern Yue from burning boats and destroying supplies, thus evading the ambush from her past life—Li Zhu could do nothing.

She could only wait in anxious anticipation in the Eastern Palace.

The maple trees in the Zhuofang Garden were turned red with frost; the season of red leaves had come again.

That night, Li Zhu slept alone but found herself tangled in a strange dream, realizing she was once again witnessing events from Pei Zhaoye’s past life.

……

Outside Luoyang, an ornate canopied carriage halted in a forest of red leaves.

Someone inside coughed several times, lifted the curtain, and a man plagued by illness gazed out the small window at a figure tied up and hanging from a tree.

He said, “Tan Xun, I’ve asked you here today because there’s something I need to ask of you.”

As if oblivious to the bound man’s inability to speak and furious expression in mid-air.

Pei Yinzhi lowered his eyelids slightly and spoke slowly:

“The battle at Divine Maiden Ridge is intense—this fight is unlike any before, it concerns the nation’s destiny. I must go personally, but you have a troublesome aunt and cousin. How can I leave with peace of mind?”

The struggling above lessened slightly.

“If I kill them, I cannot go to the border; if I don’t, I won’t rest easy. Tan Xun, though you have your flaws, you’re a man of your word. I grant you authority over the imperial guards. If I don’t return, you must stop your foolish aunt and cousin—never let Li Zhu fall into their hands. Can you do this?”

When no answer came, he smiled faintly.

“Almost forgot—you can’t speak.”

A dagger flew from the carriage, cutting the rope. Tan Xun crashed heavily to the ground, a pair of black boots stopping before him.

Pei Yinzhi crouched beside him, removed the cloth gag from his mouth.

The cold blade patted Tan Xun’s cheek as he asked again, impatiently:

“I’m asking you—can you handle this or not?”

Tan Xun’s fair face flushed red with rage, and he glared and cursed vehemently:

“Pei Yinzhi! You’re despicable and shameless! Back at the Red Sleeve Tower, you drugged me, bribed Liu Yingniang to make me think I’d been with her, forcing me to take her as my concubine—and causing Li Zhu to break off with me! How dare you say such things now!”

“Why wouldn’t I dare? Who told you to be so stupid, little brother.”

The red leaves were bright as blood, Pei Yinzhi’s eyes deep and inscrutable.

“You never had enough power before—now I’m lending you strength. You were always constrained by your family—now I’ve killed Tan Jing and Tan Rong for you, undermined the power of the Empress Dowager and the young emperor in the palace. If you promise me that should I die, you’ll do everything to protect her—”

“I’ll return her to you.”

Tan Xun’s lips parted slightly, staring at him in disbelief.

“…Li Zhu is a person, not some object! How can you take and return her as you please!”

Pei Yinzhi’s gaze flickered.

As if stung by something.

He smiled and said:

“I’m not like you, a pampered noble. Whatever it is, if I don’t struggle and seize it, it’ll never fall into my hands in this lifetime.”

“But the fact that you value her so—good, very good.”

He said “good” twice, his voice soft.

As if relieved of a burden, the light suddenly left his eyes, replaced by a weary disillusionment.

Pei Yinzhi walked away through the red leaves of memory.

Li Zhu watched the red-leaf forest crumble piece by piece, giving way to clashing weapons on the battlefield, a figure pursuing on horseback through arduous journeys, finally collapsing, exhausted and breathless, on foreign soil.

From beyond the clouds, a faint song seemed to drift:

“Fight south of the city, die north of the walls, left dead in the wilderness unburied for crows to feed.”

"Brave steeds fell in battle, while common horses lingered and neighed."

The song drifted across countless mountains and rivers, over Luoyang, where ashes of sacrificial words scattered seemed to echo in the air.

"If you would die for me, why should I go on living alone?"

"If your love for me is true, then open my coffin for me."

In her dream, Li Zhu suddenly realized.

He had been there all along.

……

Five days after she awoke from this dream, news spread throughout Nan Yong that Grand Marshal Pei Zhaoye had beheaded the King of Northern Yue, and the Northern Yue army had scattered in defeat.

The entire nation was in an uproar!

The court, too, was in disbelief.

Yet this victory did not come easily. Tan Rong’s forces suffered nearly fifty thousand casualties, and he himself lost an arm to a fierce Northern Yue general, narrowly escaping death.

Fortunately, Pei Zhaoye reinforced timely, and Guo Shaoyin stabilized the rear, holding off the main army of Northern Yue.

Pei Zhaoye pursued the defeated army relentlessly, covering a hundred *li* deep into the northern territories. With just a hundred light cavalry, he took the King of Northern Yue’s head, securing the most decisive victory in this prolonged war.

When Li Zhu heard the news, she was overjoyed and relieved.

She had clearly told him how he had died in his previous life.

How dare he still chase after the enemy alone!

Thankfully, this time the outcome was entirely different.

In the three months that followed, Pei Zhaoye first captured Jicheng, then took Libei, and finally led four hundred thousand troops to expel the Wuhuan tribes and march straight into the Northern Yue capital, Yandu.

With this, the eleven northern provinces were returned to Great Yong's control.

When Tan Jing, imprisoned in the imperial jail, learned of this news, he wept and laughed madly. By the next morning, when the jailer returned, he had already splattered the cell with his blood, having dashed himself against the wall to his death.

Late spring arrived slowly in the north. As the weather warmed, the army returned in triumph.

By the official road on the outskirts of Luoyang stood a lone carriage, yet several dozen yards away, Lu Yu, now holding the title of Capital Guard Commander, led layers of guards, maintaining strict security.

“……Shen Lizhu, so you are the biggest liar in the world!”

Kissed until dazed, her vision blurred briefly.

After four years apart, Li Zhu never imagined that the first words Pei Zhaoye would say to her would be these.

Pei Zhaoye, still breathless, his eyes heavy with desire, stared at her intensely and said word by word:

"Why didn’t you tell me how you died in your previous life!"

……So that was what he meant.

"I’d forgotten all about that… Ah, did you take a bath specially before coming? You smell wonderful. By the way, did you bring me a gift? What is it? Can I see it?"

Li Zhu wrapped her arms around his neck, rubbing against his face, trying her best to sweet-talk and change the subject.

Pei Zhaoye’s brow remained furrowed, but his heart had long softened under her touch.

"Stop rubbing, or you’ll make it harder."

Holding Li Zhu, who was sitting on his lap, he gave a loud, smacking kiss on her lips before having someone bring over the gift he had brought.

The gift was contained in a square box covered with black cloth. Li Zhu took it curiously.

"Open it."

Even before unveiling it, Li Zhu had a rough idea of what it was, for she heard something inside.

As the black cloth was lifted, a three-month-old tiger cub was exposed to the sunlight, lifting its face and letting out a soft, mewling sound at Li Zhu.

"You could have a cat if you wanted, but this is rarer—a northern specialty, like a 'cat'. I spent months learning from northern hunters. Once we return, we’ll raise and train it from a cub so it won’t bite."

Pei Zhaoye lifted it out of the cage and gently placed it on Li Zhu’s lap.

Its soft paws kneaded gently on her legs. Li Zhu dared not move, her heart melted completely.

He still remembered how she had told him that the pet cat she had as a child had been drowned by Shen Fu.

"So adorable," she said, looking up at him with shining eyes.

Yes, very adorable.

Pei Zhaoye’s gaze lingered intently on her face.

"I’ve brought back the heads of the Wuhuan Chanyu and the King of Northern Yue. The eleven northern provinces have been reclaimed. There will be no more major wars, Li Zhu. You can raise it now."

Li Zhu looked at the few new shallow scars on his cheeks.

She remembered how, the day after that dream, she had rushed to question Tan Xun, asking if Pei Zhaoye had said anything to him before leaving.

Tan Xun paused, hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

He said—

If he did not return from this battle, he wanted Tan Xun to help choose a new husband for Li Zhu: someone caring, gentle, handsome, worthy of her, and, most importantly, someone she would love.

He didn’t want her to mourn him for too long.

But he also didn’t want her to move on too fast.

"Pei Zhaoye."

Li Zhu gently touched his scars, then suddenly embraced him.

In an instant, the scent of her hair enveloped him tightly.

Pei Zhaoye took a deep breath.

He heard her, voice choked with emotion, say, "Let’s go home."

"Alright, let’s go home."

The smoke of war dispersed. The landscapes of the eleven northern provinces merged with the south, and people from both regions boarded ferries returning home.

In Luoyang, another year of peaceful spring and beautiful scenery arrived.

The spirit that had wandered the northern lands traversed countless mountains, and finally returned to her side.

—End of Main Text—