Staying out all night—it’s not exactly a big deal, but not exactly trivial either.
In this dynasty, this fictional ancient setting Lu Meng couldn’t trace to any real historical period, it was practically unheard of for a woman to stay out overnight.
Unless she was returning to her parents’ home, and even then, she’d need her husband’s permission, submitting a formal request before she could stay there.
Lu Meng’s act of "acting first and reporting later," and not even returning to her parents’ home but to her married sister’s in-laws, completely overstepped the bounds of a wife’s duty. If Lu Meng had the time to brush up on the ten grounds for divorce in this world, she’d know that Wu Dagou could rightfully divorce her for this.
Unfortunately, Lu Meng didn’t have time for that now. She was lying in the general’s residence, her belly round and taut from overeating, looking almost pregnant.
Beneath her was a rocking chair that swayed back and forth, a small blanket draped over her legs. On one side of her were candied fruits, on the other, melon seeds.
Like an oversized hamster, she kept stuffing herself, her hair loose without a single hairpin, cascading down almost to the floor. Her bare feet swung contentedly.
She hadn’t forgotten—her body was still in its growth phase, just a year younger than the male lead. With some effort, she might even grow a bit taller.
As everyone knew, kids in their growth phase had sky-high metabolisms. If she didn’t indulge now, when would she? Wait until she was older and risk high blood pressure or cholesterol from overeating?!
Lu Meng faced the window, where outside on the veranda, Zhangsun Xianyun was practicing swordplay, her blade flashing like a celestial warrior’s.
Lu Meng munched on snacks, watching through the window as if witnessing an immortal swordswoman. Zhangsun Xianyun’s movements were a blur, her plain robes fluttering as she leapt effortlessly, using stones and flowerbed edges as springboards to flip midair.
Though her delicate, lively features resembled Lu Meng’s, years on the battlefield had honed her into a figure of sharp, lethal grace.
At this moment, it wasn’t just General Feng Beiyi who adored her—even Lu Meng was smitten! Sister was an absolute heartthrob, wasn’t she?
Yes, she’d already learned the name of the Southern General. While Zhangsun Xianyun showed her around the residence, Lu Meng had spotted Feng Beiyi’s seal.
After finishing a set of sword forms, Zhangsun Xianyun finally landed, twirling her blade in a dazzling flourish before tossing it backward. A servant standing nearby, holding the scabbard, didn’t flinch as the sword flew straight into it like a homing missile.
Lu Meng couldn’t help but cheer, “Bravo!”
She even clapped enthusiastically, her demeanor resembling a spoiled young master in a brothel tossing coins to applaud a songstress.
Xiuyun and Xiuli joined in clapping, while Xin Ya—Wu Linxuan’s spy—had been sent back to the prince’s estate. Now, with no one watching, Lu Meng could relax even more.
Zhangsun Xianyun didn’t suspect a thing about her sister’s transformation.
First, few people would jump to "possession" when faced with a living person. Second, Zhangsun Xianyun hadn’t seen her sister in years, let alone been this close to her.
Even before marriage, their interactions in the family home often ended in arguments. Though they cared for each other, they were practically strangers.
And people always believe what they want to believe—like a sister growing up, a sister becoming sensible.
The sister who once frowned at her swordplay now watched with relish, even cheering.
Zhangsun Xianyun wasn’t tired at all. She wanted to show off every skill she had to her sister.
No one could understand the loneliness of a woman misunderstood by her era, with no one but her husband to share her passion for life and work.
But a husband couldn’t replace everything. Zhangsun Xianyun wasn’t the type to revolve around a man.
So her sister’s understanding and admiration made her feel like a lovestruck girl, giddy and shy. She performed three more sets of swordplay before stepping inside, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling as she waited for praise.
Lu Meng didn’t hold back: “Now I see why the general never took a concubine, why you two are such a perfect pair!”
“Who could even look at another woman after marrying someone like you?”
“What’s a delicate, well-bred lady worth? Noble birth? Can they fly? Wield a sword? Kill a man?!”
Barefoot, Lu Meng waved her arms excitedly like a crab, utterly convinced Zhangsun Xianyun deserved a protagonist’s script.
Not some tragic tale where a brilliant female general helps the male lead conquer the world, only to be crushed by a delicate concubine—abused, heartbroken, discarded when unneeded.
No, she deserved a triumphant story—conquering battlefields, ruling as empress after the male lead’s demise!
Her admiration was genuine, and Zhangsun Xianyun could tell. Her sister truly accepted her love for war and swords.
The understanding she’d thought lost forever now filled her heart.
Overcome, she rushed forward and scooped Lu Meng up like a child, lifting her into the air.
Lu Meng yelped, then burst into laughter.
This world was absurd—everyone could lift her so easily!
Guess she was still too thin. More snacks!
Zhangsun Xianyun, caught in nostalgia, feared she’d startled her sister. But hearing that laugh, it was like traveling back to their carefree childhood, when their mother was alive and she’d lift her little sister to peals of joy.
So she didn’t put Lu Meng down right away, spinning her in a circle instead.
As they twirled, Feng Beiyi walked in at the sound of laughter, leaning against the doorframe with an amused grin. His wife hadn’t been this unrestrained in years.
“You’d scour the entire imperial city to find sisters as close as you two,” he said. “I followed the noise thinking I’d stumbled into a duck pond.”
Zhangsun Xianyun set the barefoot Lu Meng back on the rocking chair. Dizzy, Lu Meng flopped down, her disheveled appearance—loose hair, bare feet, open robes—far from "proper."
In front of her brother-in-law, an "outsider man," this was practically scandalous.
Anyone with old-fashioned values—or a typical feudal male lead like Wu Dagou—would lose their minds seeing this.
But from head to toe, Lu Meng was simply "improper"—her hair wasn’t tied up, and though her feet were bare, her skirt was so long it resembled a fishtail, revealing no skin at all.
In her mind, this outfit was downright conservative.
After just a short time together, Lu Meng had already come to treat the general’s manor as her true "home."
Her sister genuinely cared for her, her two maids were utterly devoted, and the servants in the manor—whether the disabled veterans sweeping the outer courtyard or the widows and orphans of fallen soldiers in the inner quarters—were all tight-lipped as clams.
Most importantly, the guards were Feng Beiyi and Zhangsun Xianyun’s personal soldiers, their martial prowess nearly on par with the death warriors Wu Dagou kept.
Feng Beiyi himself was a rough-and-tumble man, looking at Lu Meng as if she were a child.
In short, her sister and brother-in-law were the most upright people imaginable. Lu Meng, whose heart had always been carefree, could tell after just a day that their roundabout words were filled with genuine concern for her.
Having been here for over two months, Lu Meng had been "pretending" to be mad. How could she not let loose in front of family?
"Brother-in-law, Sister just showed me her swordplay," Lu Meng said without even getting up, swaying slightly. "I’ve never seen such a graceful, immortal-like fairy in my life. You really hit the jackpot."
Zhangsun Xianyun, rarely flustered, shot her sister a glare. "Nonsense. Get up, it’s time to eat."
Feng Beiyi, however, chimed in, "Isn’t that the truth? You have no idea—in the army, your sister’s word carries more weight than mine. The way those soldiers look at her… sigh!"
Zhangsun Xianyun promptly kicked Feng Beiyi in the leg. Despite his towering, mountain-like stature, he yelped in exaggerated pain and threw Lu Meng a pleading look.
Lu Meng laughed, watching them with envy. Who said feudal-era marriages couldn’t be healthy?
But the way Feng Beiyi gazed at Zhangsun Xianyun—even the fierce scar on his face seemed to soften. Lu Meng rubbed her own face, feeling like she’d just been subjected to a public display of affection.
Abusing single people is a crime, you know!
What did us lonely souls ever do to deserve this?
Lu Meng had completely forgotten she was also a married woman—albeit one who never stayed home.
During the meal, Feng Beiyi devoured half his mountainous bowl in one gulp, barely chewing before swallowing. "Stay a few days," he said to Lu Meng. "Your sister’s happy seeing you. She hasn’t eaten this much in years."
Zhangsun Xianyun stomped on his foot, embarrassed. Her eating habits mirrored his—both of them ate like starved ghosts.
Lu Meng, now fully relaxed, managed only half a bowl while the other two polished off two each.
Old army habits died hard.
Under the candlelight, Zhangsun Xianyun’s eyes shimmered with hope as she watched Lu Meng.
She knew it wasn’t entirely proper, but she truly wanted her sister to stay longer. After the Mid-Autumn Festival, they’d begin preparations to return to the southern border. Who knew when they’d be back in the capital? The thought of being separated from her sister already filled her with grief.
Lu Meng could read her sister’s longing. She hadn’t planned to leave anyway. "I was already thinking of staying," she said. "If only you and Brother-in-law could live in the capital permanently—then I could move into the general’s manor for good. The food’s delicious, and the servants are so much nicer here."
Zhangsun Xianyun smiled at first, but worry quickly crept in. "Are the servants in Prince Jian’an’s Manor unkind? If so… why not take a few of ours back with you?"
Feng Beiyi nodded. "Exactly. That father of yours is useless. From now on, treat this place as your home. We’ve got plenty of empty rooms in the rear courtyard—I’ll have some cleaned up tomorrow. Even if your sister and I aren’t in the capital, if Wu Dagou ever mistreats you, you can always come stay here."
No matter how powerful Prince Jian’an was, he wouldn’t dare bully anyone inside the general’s manor.
Lu Meng’s eyes lit up like searchlights, her mind racing. "Deal! This is my home now!"
She’d been worrying about leaving her gold and valuables in the prince’s manor. She didn’t trust Wu Dagou—how many early-novel male leads were ever reliable?
She didn’t trust banks with her money or deeds either. But here? Ha! Not even Wu Dagou could touch them.
Her delight was palpable—this was her safety net for a life of leisure.
But the happier she seemed, the more uneasy Zhangsun Xianyun grew.
Her sister really had been mistreated.
Noticing Zhangsun Xianyun’s slowed eating, Lu Meng reined in her expression. Connecting the dots, she quickly added, "Don’t worry, Sister. Wu Da—Prince Jian’an treats me well. Right now, I’m the only woman in his household. It’s quite comfortable."
"No morning or evening rituals to endure, his mother died young so there’s no evil mother-in-law to torment me. There was a nasty old matron once, but after I complained, Wu Dagou kicked her out."
"I just prefer it here," Lu Meng said. "I can be myself—not someone’s wife, just your little sister."
"Don’t fret. If Prince Jian’an ever treats me poorly or takes another wife, I’ll just move back here permanently." She grinned.
Zhangsun Xianyun wasn’t entirely reassured. Though her sister’s temperament had changed—more open than before—she also seemed… a little dimmer.
Not that being simple-minded was bad… but at least with her and Feng Beiyi around, no one could harm her.
Exchanging a glance with Feng Beiyi, she set aside her concerns for now.
Lu Meng, blissfully oblivious, didn’t actually stay up chatting with Zhangsun Xianyun that night—no need to interrupt the couple’s private time.
Alone in the manor’s side room, she marveled at the bed—damn, it was huge. She could roll around to her heart’s content, the blankets luxuriously soft.
Compared to this, her supposedly decent quarters in Lishu Court were practically abuse.
Concubines really get no respect. The bed there was less than half this size. After one night in the general’s manor, Lu Meng floated on clouds, never wanting to return.
The next day, she slept until nearly afternoon. Only Xiuyun and Xiuli’s concern for her health roused her for food.
Zhangsun Xianyun and Feng Beiyi were busy—preparing military supplies and provisions for their return to the southern border.
With little time to spare, Zhangsun Xianyun felt guilty for leaving her sister alone. Rushing back at one point, she found Lu Meng by the lotus pond at sunset, feeding the koi.
Most people looked lonely feeding fish, but Lu Meng was a one-woman show.
"Hey, you chubby black-and-white glutton! That’s your third earthworm! If you steal another one, I swear—you’re already as fat as a cow…"
"Xiaohong, come here quickly! Oh, you poor little thing, look how thin you are—stop nibbling on my foot skin, that won’t fill you up..."
"Hey, can black carps really bring good luck? Spin around for me, and I’ll give you the fattest worm..."
Before Zhangsun Xianyun even stepped into the courtyard, she could hear her younger sister chattering away, thoroughly amusing herself.
But as she approached and noticed the box beside Lu Meng, her expression shifted slightly. "Yinyin, weren’t you... afraid of bugs?"
A cold, clammy sweat instantly broke out down Lu Meng’s back.
However, she quickly composed herself. Tilting her head up, she flashed Zhangsun Xianyun a smile—her signature "good little sister charm offensive."
"I used to be scared," Lu Meng admitted. "But after you left the Vice Minister’s residence, Madam Chen became unbearable for a while."
"We had to grow our own vegetables to eat. Most of the work was done by the servants, but sometimes, when I was bored out of my mind, I’d help out a little."
"You find these things everywhere when you’re digging in the dirt," Lu Meng said. "After handling them a few times, I realized they might be ugly, but they don’t have mouths to bite you. So I stopped being afraid."
It sounded perfectly reasonable, but Zhangsun Xianyun’s heart ached for her.
Her precious Yinyin, who had grown up with delicate hands untouched by labor and despised anything "unrefined," had been forced by Madam Chen to the point of tending vegetables.
"Madam Chen will get what’s coming to her," Zhangsun Xianyun said darkly. "Once I have time to spare, I’ll deal with her."
Lu Meng nodded, then quickly changed the subject. "Sister, come look at this fish—it’s so fat it barely resembles a fish anymore. It’s practically pig-like!"
Zhangsun Xianyun glanced over and chuckled.
"I have to go back to the Armory this afternoon. Because of Consort Jia’s incident, The Second Prince wasn’t there this morning."
"I won’t have time to keep you company. If you’re bored—"
"I’m not bored," Lu Meng assured her. "The General’s estate is fascinating. There are so many little animals in the backyard—I’ll go see them later. You focus on your work."
Lu Meng was the type who could stay perfectly content as long as she had food, drink, and comfort—even if she were just staring blankly at the ceiling.
Here in the General’s estate, she felt utterly at ease. Even Yuehui, who had been assigned to watch her, had been chased off by Feng Beiyi’s men. Lu Meng half-wished she could live here permanently.
This place felt like a natural barrier against all the melodramatic plotlines—the kind that kept all the angsty tropes at bay.
Only the heavens knew how desperately Lu Meng wanted to avoid being the tragic heroine of some tearjerker novel.
Seeing her so content, Zhangsun Xianyun patted her head and left to attend to her duties.
Left to her own devices, Lu Meng wandered the estate until she grew tired, then settled into a rocking chair to sway lazily.
The autumn breeze was gentle, and the sunlight filtering through the trees wasn’t too harsh. The cicadas screamed their last songs of the season, but Lu Meng tuned it out like background music.
Wrapped snugly in a thin quilt, she lay there, serene as a fossil displayed in a museum.
Xiuyun and Xiuli, being young and impressionable, easily absorbed their mistress’s demeanor. Their previous mistress had been timid and anxious, and so her maids had mirrored that.
But Lu Meng radiated an aura of "life’s too short, just lie down and let it pass." Under the dappled sunlight, Xiuyun and Xiuli soon found themselves fighting off drowsiness too.
As dusk approached, the wind grew cooler.
Lu Meng wanted to go inside but couldn’t muster the energy to move. She also really needed to pee but couldn’t be bothered to get up—though she did worry about the health risks of holding it in too long.
Sighing dramatically, she found herself reminiscing about Wu Dagou’s arm strength—how effortlessly he could scoop her up, quilt and all. Such strength would be perfect right now: carry her inside, maybe even help her relieve herself while he was at it.
Since this was all in her head, she allowed herself to indulge in shameless fantasies.
But as she drifted in and out of drowsiness, the person who finally appeared wasn’t Wu Dagou—it was Feng Beiyi.
Frowning, he looked down at her. "It’s almost dark. If you keep lying out here, you’ll catch a chill."
Lu Meng sat up abruptly, wiping imaginary drool from her mouth. "Brother-in-law! Where’s Eldest Sister?"
"Still at the Armory. She hasn’t returned yet."
Feng Beiyi hesitated, then decided to voice his thoughts.
"Aside from Consort Jia, did you specifically offend her son, The Second Prince?"
Lu Meng blinked in confusion. Feng Beiyi continued, "The Armory wouldn’t dare shortchange supplies for the southern border, but they’ve been dragging their feet lately. I had drinks with someone there this afternoon, and he mentioned that The Second Prince had a custom-made heavy iron blade snatched from him at the city’s Treasure Pavilion recently. He’s been furious about it."
Lu Meng’s eyes widened as it all came back to her.
Holy hell. Her impulsive "I’ll pay triple!" that day had unknowingly screwed over The Second Prince?
She smacked her thigh. No wonder Consort Jia had it out for her—she’d humiliated her son, and now the mother was seeking revenge.
Lu Meng sat bolt upright, realizing with horror: I was the troublemaker all along!
But back then, she’d been too caught up in the thrill of having endless money to burn. Her brain had short-circuited, and she’d overestimated Wu Dagou’s ability to clean up her messes.
"Yeah... that was me," Lu Meng admitted, scratching her head. She met Feng Beiyi’s gaze squarely. "But if I had to do it again, I’d still cross him!"
She stood, letting her maids slip her shoes on as she fought the urge to sprint to the bathroom. "Brother-in-law, come with me."
Lu Meng had brought the heavy iron blade with her but hadn’t found the right moment to gift it.
Originally, she’d planned to give it to Zhangsun Xianyun, leaving it to the couple to decide who’d keep it. But Zhangsun Xianyun doted on her too much, and besides, her sister clearly favored lightweight swords. The heavy blade would be unwieldy for her, despite her strong arms.
So Lu Meng had decided: she’d give it to Feng Beiyi herself.
And it had to be when Zhangsun Xianyun wasn’t around.
Now was the perfect opportunity.
Leading a puzzled Feng Beiyi inside, she dug under her pillow and pulled out the heavy iron blade.
Holding it solemnly with both hands, she declared, "Brother-in-law, a treasured blade for a true hero!"
"The Second Prince, who’ll never see battle, would’ve just hung this on a wall. But the Treasure Pavilion’s owner said this blade can slice through hair and split metal. How could something so magnificent be wasted as decoration?"
Feng Beiyi was stunned. He eyed the jewel-encrusted scabbard and almost laughed. "So you bought this... for me?"
"Of course!"
Lu Meng insisted, "The blade doesn’t even reflect light at night—isn’t that perfect for the battlefield?"
"Here, take a look."
Feng Beiyi had doubted the blade’s quality, given its gaudy exterior.
But the moment it settled in his grip, his sharp brows knitted together.
The weight... truly fine blades were always heavy.
And when he drew the heavy iron blade from its sheath, all traces of amusement vanished.
His forehead creased into deep furrows as the pitch-black blade fully emerged. His breathing grew rapid.
The blade he currently wielded was forged from fine steel—already exceptionally sharp and sturdy—but compared to this legendary saber crafted from meteorite iron said to have fallen with a thunderstrike, it might as well be a child’s toy.
He swallowed hard, leaning closer to the blade until he could feel a chilling aura wafting from it. On a whim, he swung it casually toward the stool behind him.
The wooden chair, hardly an easy target for cleaving, split cleanly in two as if it were mere tofu. Feng Beiyi thought to himself, No wonder Consort Jia was willing to risk causing a scene during the Mid-Autumn Banquet, where the entire court was present, just to teach that presumptuous side consort of Prince Jian’an a lesson.
The Second Prince cherished weapons like his own life. Losing such a treasured blade meant this feud had escalated beyond repair.
Feng Beiyi swung the saber a few more times, his admiration so palpable it might as well have dripped from his eyes. Yet, with a soft sigh, he reined in his expression and sheathed the blade. Instead of immediately returning it to Lu Meng, he turned it slowly in his hands and asked, "Why didn’t you give this to your elder sister?"
Lu Meng replied, "Last night, Eldest Sister demonstrated her martial arts for me. I noticed she seems to favor light and agile swords." Out of three martial routines, two were sword-based.
Feng Beiyi looked down at Lu Meng, then suddenly caught faint footsteps outside. He flicked a subtle glance toward the door.
Lu Meng, lacking the trained ears of a martial artist, heard nothing.
Feng Beiyi nodded and pressed further, "Did Prince Jian’an instruct you to buy this saber and gift it to me?"
If so, the prince was truly despicable—using his foolish side consort to provoke a viper like the Second Prince, then squeezing every last drop of utility from her by sending her to win Feng Beiyi’s favor.
A cold fury simmered in Feng Beiyi’s eyes, threatening to spill over.
But Lu Meng only blinked and said, "Huh? What does he have to do with this? Sure, I used his money, but he himself said the household’s gold and silver were mine to spend as I pleased. Besides, the day I bought this, I just happened to wander into the Treasure Pavilion. Clearly, this saber was destined for you, Brother-in-law."
Feng Beiyi thought, Foolish girl, you’re being used.
Yet he showed none of it, continuing gently, "This blade must have cost a fortune. Prince Jian’an… is truly so generous with you?"
Lu Meng nodded. "It was expensive, but when the Second Prince’s lackeys tried to outbid me, I couldn’t let them win."
"Prince Jian’an himself declared I could spend the household funds freely. He never set a limit. What kind of man goes back on his word?"
Feng Beiyi chuckled softly. Though he still believed Lu Meng was being manipulated, he found her obliviousness oddly endearing.
"So," he pressed, "it truly wasn’t Prince Jian’an’s idea for you to gift this to me?"
"Of course not," Lu Meng said. "I told him about it, but he didn’t say a word."
Feng Beiyi paused, then shot another fleeting glance toward the door. "But such a priceless treasure—why give it to me instead of your sister? Are you trying to win favor for your husband?"
He knew this question would irk whoever was listening outside.
But after discussing it late into the night, he and his wife had agreed to leave a few of their personal guards behind to protect this sister of theirs.
Their personal guards were all elite warriors. Yet if this girl was truly naive and blindly devoted to Prince Jian’an, even the best guards would only serve his interests.
If that were the case, this foolish girl might die without ever realizing she’d been betrayed. By the time Feng Beiyi and his wife returned from the distant southern borders, it might be too late even to collect her body.
However, Lu Meng immediately retorted, "Absolutely not! This saber is mine, the feud is mine—what does he have to do with it? Well, the money was his, but once he gave it to me, it stopped being his."
Her logic was flawless.
Feng Beiyi’s expression softened slightly.
Lu Meng continued, "Brother-in-law… I do have a request in gifting you this blade."
His face tightened again.
She paused, then suddenly knelt and bowed deeply to Feng Beiyi.
The gesture startled him so much he nearly recoiled. A rough soldier like him couldn’t stand such formalities—all that bowing and scraping made him feel like he was being ushered straight into his coffin.
This little sister had always been overly proper, like a rigid old matron, during their few past meetings. He’d finally thought she’d shed that demeanor this time—why was it back now?
Lu Meng didn’t linger in the bow. Rising quickly, she said earnestly, "Brother-in-law, I gift you this treasure so you may protect Eldest Sister."
Feng Beiyi’s brow arched.
Lu Meng went on, "In a few days, you and Eldest Sister will depart for the southern borders. The journey is long, and though my heart yearns to follow, I cannot."
"Eldest Sister will be far from home, with no kin but you to rely on."
She added, "This world is too harsh on women. I’ve never once disapproved of Eldest Sister’s ‘unconventional’ ways—I was simply too young before to voice my worries. But the world’s words cut like snow, its gaze pierces like blades."
"My only wish is for both of you to remain safe. If so, this thousand-gold blade is worth every coin. And offending the Second Prince? A small price to pay."
Lu Meng’s voice nearly cracked with emotion, but every word was sincere.
Though she and Zhangsun Xianyun had only met briefly, it felt like a lifetime bond.
Even a dog could distinguish true affection from false pretenses. Wu Dagou didn’t love her—he desired her, distrusted her, perhaps even wished her dead.
But Lu Meng had made him "lose" too much. He wouldn’t let harm come to her lightly, not when he still hoped to reclaim what she’d taken. She understood this, though she couldn’t be bothered to dwell on it.
In a way, this was self-preservation on a knife’s edge: by seizing what he valued, she made herself someone he couldn’t afford to lose.
It was like buying clothes—a cheap garment might be worn digging ditches, then tossed aside when stained. But something bought at great cost? Even if it were rags, you’d hesitate to damage it.
The original owner of this body had given endlessly, making herself as disposable as a hundred-coin outfit to Wu Linxuan.
Lu Meng genuinely wished for Zhangsun Xianyun and Feng Beiyi to remain safe—and to remain her anchors in this world.
They were the ones truly worth relying on.
Hearing this, Feng Beiyi’s wariness faded slightly, though he still demurred. "This is too valuable. Prince Jian’an’s money doesn’t come without strings."
"Your sister is my wife—of course I’ll protect her. But I can’t accept this blade."
"Why not?" Lu Meng countered. "You clearly love it."
She’d noticed him stroking the scabbard repeatedly.
Unless…
She took the saber back, pondered a moment, then—gripping the blade—slammed the ornate scabbard hard against the table edge.
Bang! Bang! BANG!
After several brutal strikes, the egg-sized ruby embedded in the hilt clattered to the floor.
Lu Meng handed the now-damaged saber to Feng Beiyi. "There. If the scabbard’s too gaudy for your taste, I can commission a plainer one from the Treasure Pavilion before you leave."
Feng Beiyi gaped.
But in the end, he took the blade.
He truly loved this saber, and offending The Second Prince was already done—there was no way he would dare to withhold supplies meant for the southern frontier.
However, Feng Beiyi had never received such an extravagant gift in his life, and his grin nearly split his face as he kept glancing at the door, wondering why his wife hadn’t come in yet.
Lu Meng, seeing that Feng Beiyi had accepted the saber, suddenly felt the urge to relieve herself.
But Feng Beiyi, noticing his wife’s absence, assumed she might be too hesitant to ask certain questions herself.
So he stopped Lu Meng before she could leave the room and pressed further.
"Little sister," Feng Beiyi set the saber aside.
His father had died in battle, and his mother had passed not long after. His father had never taken a concubine, leaving Feng Beiyi without any half-siblings. The vast general’s estate now stood empty, with him as its sole occupant.
He had decided to treat his wife’s younger sister as his own flesh and blood.
"Your sister and I hold power in the southern frontier, and many of the imperial princes have sought our favor," Feng Beiyi ventured into questions he shouldn’t have asked Lu Meng.
"Which prince do you think might one day ascend to the highest position?"
Lu Meng: "..." She actually knew the answer, but she couldn’t say it.
She found it strange that Feng Beiyi was asking her this.
Still, after a moment’s hesitation, she replied, "No matter which prince tries to win you over, you and my sister must never take sides."
"His Majesty is no longer young, and he’s surely aware of the princes’ infighting. With you and my sister commanding such a formidable army, openly aligning with any faction would only invite the emperor’s suspicion."
She hadn’t intended to speak so bluntly, but since Feng Beiyi had asked her about something as critical as the struggle for succession, she no longer feared "overstepping."
So she continued, "If the emperor grows wary, he won’t punish his own sons—it’s the generals who’ll suffer."
Throughout history, power-hungry emperors had committed unspeakable acts.
Betraying and slaughtering loyal commanders and soldiers was nothing new. A wise man does not stand beneath a crumbling wall.
And right now, every prince was a crumbling wall!
Even if Wu Dagou was the story’s eventual male lead, his ascension was still far off—who knew what might happen before then?
He might very well discard his allies once they’d served their purpose.
Lu Meng cared deeply for these two, whom she now regarded as her true sister and brother-in-law—and her anchors in this world.
"Don’t engage with any of them," Lu Meng said. "No matter who becomes emperor, stand with the emperor alone."
This was the safest path for loyal ministers through dynastic upheavals.
Feng Beiyi was genuinely stunned.
Both he and Zhangsun Xianyun had assumed this younger sister was a bit simple-minded.
But now, it seemed she might be wiser than they’d realized.
"You’ve got a sharp mind, little sister," Feng Beiyi said with a smile. "Your sister and I think the same way."
Lu Meng grinned back, then added, "I, uh… need to freshen up."
She really couldn’t hold it any longer.
But as she turned, she found Zhangsun Xianyun standing behind her, tears streaming down her face.
Moved beyond words that her sister had considered their safety so carefully, Zhangsun Xianyun rushed forward and pulled Lu Meng into a crushing embrace.
Lu Meng let out a muffled groan, her smile freezing as she subtly clenched her thighs.
Her legs trembled slightly.
Ah, the limits of human bladder endurance.
