"I have had five husbands before, just enough to count on one hand."
Dai Li sighed with a hint of melancholy: "My fate has been fraught with hardship, which is why I gradually traveled north from Jiaozhou. In truth, I deceived you last night—my son’s father was no commoner. Judging by his demeanor, he likely came from a prominent clan, though I don’t know his exact identity. I only know his name was Qin Yi, styled Huali. He was elusive, his returns unpredictable, and he rarely stayed by my side or our son’s."
This was the new story she had concocted after tossing and turning all night.
What else could she do? She had just claimed her husband was a commoner, only to be caught with small iron pieces hidden in her undergarments. Common folk reserved every scrap of iron for blades—such extravagance was unthinkable for them.
If the "commoner husband" story didn’t hold, she’d fabricate a mysterious noble instead. While men in ancient times could take concubines, they weren’t without limits—the number was restricted.
For instance, the Duduan recorded: "The Son of Heaven takes twelve women, symbolizing the twelve months—three consorts and nine concubines. Lords take nine women, symbolizing the nine provinces—one wife and eight concubines. High ministers take one wife and two concubines. Scholars take one wife and one concubine."
In short, these were the official limits. What if one still craved more?
Then they kept women outside the household—hence the existence of unofficial concubines.
After much deliberation, Dai Li decided to reinvent herself as someone whose background would be difficult to verify, yet just plausible enough to pass scrutiny.
After all, she was accustomed to switching husbands. Her current one was often absent, and she felt no deep attachment to him. Naturally, when a higher branch appeared, she wouldn’t hesitate to climb it—especially when he’d promised to help find her son.
Qin Shaozong twisted the ring on his finger.
Qin Yi, Qin Huali.
No such name existed among the outstanding scions of the Qin family’s main or collateral branches. Was this Qin Yi simply too obscure to be known, or was the name itself false?
If the latter, was it because "Qin Yi" wished to conceal his identity, or…?
Qin Shaozong fixed his gaze on the woman before him. His light brown eyes, illuminated by the growing daylight, gleamed like a razor-sharp blade capable of slicing through all pretenses.
Dai Li’s heart raced uncontrollably. Unable to bear his scrutiny, she lowered her lashes to avoid his piercing stare.
He asked, "Where is your home?"
Dai Li heard her own heartbeat quicken. "My husband dislikes me appearing in public or interacting with outsiders, so our humble abode lies in an inconspicuous woodland about ten miles west of Nankang Commandery. By the way, I overheard your household referring to you as 'Lord Marquis.' Might I ask which region you govern?"
The last question was posed with an air of naivety—fitting for a woman with no grasp of politics.
A governor’s title included the name of his jurisdiction, so "Lord Marquis" likely followed the same pattern, didn’t it?
Qin Shaozong chuckled. "The court has not granted me both a fief and a marquisate."
As soon as the words left his lips, he noticed the faint crease between her brows—a flicker of worry, or perhaps regret. Worry over a bad bargain, regret for following him too hastily.
A moment ago, he had found her naivety amusing. Now, the smile vanished from his lips. "Since I am helping you find your son, shouldn’t you reciprocate?"
Dai Li wasn’t sure how the conversation had taken this turn. Had she overplayed her hand, provoking him to assert dominance elsewhere?
Her scalp prickled with unease. "Of course. My son is my life. I could never forget such a lifesaving favor. If there’s any way I can be of service, I won’t refuse. Only…"
Here, she bit her lip, feigning embarrassment. "Only, my monthly courses make intimacy impossible at the moment. Could you… wait a few days?"
Her heart hammered in her throat, terrified he might reply with something like, "No matter—there are many pleasures short of the final act." But perhaps he wasn’t so crude, or perhaps he still remembered she was injured. Thankfully, her fears didn’t materialize.
Qin Shaozong said, "Not intimacy. Last night, when I searched Jiang Mansion, I used the pretext of a missing concubine. Governor Jiang took an interest and may have his wife speak with you later. Do you know how to respond?"
Though he framed it as a question about "later," Dai Li understood his meaning extended far beyond the governor’s wife. She grasped the underlying message: "Rest assured, my lord, I know what to say. But to avoid slips, could you share some details?"
"I lead three thousand Black Cavalry from Weizhou, en route to Ying Commandery to suppress a major salt smuggler surnamed Li. My stop in Nankang is merely incidental." He briefly outlined the smuggler Li Zan’s background. Since she’d be at his side, it was inevitable she’d pick up some knowledge about the man.
Dai Li’s eyelid twitched.
In ancient times, soldiers were the most critical strategic resource. Modern dramas and novels often exaggerated numbers—even the mighty Tang Dynasty’s total military strength never reached the fanciful "million-strong armies" depicted.
During the early Eastern Han, the entire nation’s forces numbered around three hundred thousand. A warlord commanding even ten thousand—even if half were feeble or infirm—could dominate a region. After all, Dong Zhuo once cowed the central army with just three thousand men.
The Black Cavalry—clearly an elite mounted unit.
Cavalry were the empire’s most prized military assets. And he had three thousand at his disposal? How many more remained unseen?
Dai Li inwardly gasped. Suddenly, the title "Lord Marquis" carried no exaggeration—this man had undoubtedly earned his rank through genuine military merit.
Qin Shaozong continued, "My name is Qin Shaozong, styled Changgeng, of ancestral home in Youzhou’s Yuyang. A month ago, someone presented a beauty to the emperor, which led to our meeting. You and your maid fell ill on the journey. She was frail and didn’t survive, while you barely pulled through. Due to your poor condition, you remained hidden in the carriage when we arrived yesterday."
His eyes swept over her, amusement flickering in their depths. "You’re simple-minded, jealous, and spoiled. You often threw tantrums over subpar meals during the trip. Last night, irritated by your antics, I deliberately asked Jiang Chonghai for a nonexistent dancer and leaked the news to you, hoping you’d behave. Instead, you flew into a rage and sneaked out. To save face, I announced my concubine had gone missing in the mansion while secretly searching for you. As for how I coaxed you back afterward—well, that’s a private matter between us."
Dai Li realized he wanted her to play a role in this charade. Thoughtfully, she said, "You wish for me to relay this 'truth'—and our private reconciliation—to the governor’s wife?"
Qin Shaozong smiled. "You’re not as dull as you seem."
Dai Li pressed further, "How spoiled should I act? Any limits?"
"Act as spoiled as a favored concubine would. Tearing the roof off wouldn’t be out of line," he replied.
Dai Li felt goosebumps rise on her back as he spoke in that half-amused, half-mocking tone. At that moment, it was as if she were deep in a jungle, surrounded by dense foliage, with a vicious tiger lurking beside her—its fur blending seamlessly into the environment, its predatory gaze fixed on the outside world.
Only now did Dai Li finally understand the unease she had felt the night before when she encountered two maidservants, one of whom clearly recognized her but deliberately pretended not to.
He and that Lord Jiang were nothing more than cordial on the surface, each deeply wary of the other. That was why, when he had sought her out earlier, the servants in the mansion had likely feigned compliance while secretly defying his orders under their master’s instructions.
After a moment of contemplation, Dai Li ventured cautiously, "My Lord, the overall framework shall follow your design, but might this humble one have some freedom with the finer details?"
Qin Shaozong agreed.
Seeing that he seemed unusually amenable, Dai Li pressed further, "Since Your Lordship and I met a month ago, the matter of you helping me search for my son..."
"Naturally, it will proceed in secret," Qin Shaozong replied. Noting the disappointment in her downcast eyes, he added, "If the boy isn’t found within Jiang Mansion, we’ll search outside. As long as he’s still within Nankang Commandery, even if he’s hidden in the most remote corner, we’ll dig him out."
"To make the act convincing, perhaps you could order someone to create a new identity document for me," Dai Li suggested softly. "That way, I can flaunt it before Lady Jiang, ensuring she believes it without doubt."
The identity document, or "chuan," bore a person’s name and place of origin. It was both a symbol and proof of one’s status—without it, traveling far was nearly impossible for those who weren’t slaves or vagrants.
As the favored jewel of the Marquis, how could she allow herself to remain among the ranks of undocumented concubines and servants?
Qin Shaozong said simply, "Granted."
Dai Li couldn’t suppress a smile and was about to thank him when he remarked, "So pleased over a mere document?"
Her heart skipped a beat, but she refused to admit it. "My Lord misunderstands. This humble one rejoices because we’ve reached a full agreement, and the day I recover my son draws near. Rest assured, once I step beyond this courtyard, I shall be the spoiled concubine who flaunts your favor—leaving no room for suspicion."
"Not from the moment you leave here, but from this afternoon onward. I’ll have two maidservants from Jiang Mansion sent to attend to you." Qin Shaozong rose from the folding chair.
Dai Li assumed he was leaving and prepared to bid him farewell, but instead of turning away, he took a step forward.
The chair had been placed barely an arm’s length from the couch, and now, with that single step, they stood so close that the slightest lift of her hand would brush against the dark fabric of his robe.
The man leaned down, one arm encircling her waist while the other slid beneath her knees, lifting her effortlessly into his embrace.
Dai Li gasped, instinctively clutching the wrinkled fabric of his belt sash. His body radiated heat like a furnace—her shoulder, pressed against his chest, and the bend of her legs, cradled in his arms, grew uncomfortably warm. "...My Lord?"
"I’ve had them prepare a side chamber for you. You’ll move there." Qin Shaozong carried her out of the small room.
Dai Li lowered her eyes. It made sense—what kind of outrageously spoiled concubine would live in a servant’s cramped quarters?
As they stepped outside, they encountered Yan San, who was moving his belongings to the adjacent room, and Mo Yanyun, who had just returned from outside. Both men froze at the sight.
"Fetch the mansion physician," Qin Shaozong ordered before carrying Dai Li into Yan San’s former room.
Mo Yanyun turned to Yan San. "Last night, His Lordship told me he had a plan to achieve twice the result with half the effort, and that ‘Fengchun’ would play a part. Has the scheme already begun? Since when does His Lordship stoop to such condescension?"
Yan San turned on his heel without a word and strode away.
"Hey, where are you going? I’m talking to you!" Mo Yanyun called after him, annoyed.
Without looking back, Yan San replied, "Fetching the physician."
