Huo Tingshan stood beneath the corridor, tilting his head to glance at the sky. The heavens were clear and bright, the golden sun warm and gentle—a fine day indeed. He remarked, "The weather today is splendid, with a gentle breeze and clear skies—perfect for an outing. My lady, how about we take a stroll outside?"
Meng Ling'er's chest heaved with indignation. She was standing right there, yet this man acted as if she were invisible, directly addressing her mother instead. Did he think she was dead?
Pei Ying quietly restrained her daughter, who was on the verge of lashing out, and spoke softly, "I plan to return to the Meng residence with my daughter today, and it may take quite some time. I fear it would disrupt the general's leisurely mood for sightseeing. Perhaps the general should seek another companion."
Pei Ying had originally planned to go out today—to sell the family estate.
With only her and her daughter left in the Meng household, and no immediate means of leaving, they could no longer afford to be careless with their remaining resources. A girl needed to be raised in comfort; otherwise, she might easily be swayed by petty favors in the future.
Huo Tingshan chuckled. "It’s no trouble. I’ve been quite idle these past few days. I’ll escort you and your daughter to the Meng residence."
Pei Ying was about to decline again, but Huo Tingshan had already turned away. "The carriage is ready. My lady, follow me."
......
The carriage rolled along the street, its wheels rumbling over the cobblestones. Meng Ling'er lifted the curtain to peek outside, but upon spotting the tall figure riding a black horse beside the carriage, she pursed her lips and let the curtain fall again.
"Mother, Shui Su told me that thieves once broke into our home. With no one there to watch over it after we left yesterday, who knows if they’ll return? If they’ve made a mess of things, we won’t get a good price for the house," Meng Ling'er fretted.
Pei Ying hesitated.
Of course the thieves would return—because the leader of those so-called thieves was currently riding his horse right outside.
But telling her daughter this would only make Ling'er angrier, with no benefit whatsoever.
So Pei Ying reassured her, "They’ve already come once. There likely won’t be a second time."
"Who knows? Our home is so beautifully decorated. What if the thieves took a liking to it and decided to seize it outright, refusing to leave? When we get back, I’ll have to inspect everything carefully," Meng Ling'er resolved.
Pei Ying curled her fingers slightly, averting her gaze, unable to meet her daughter’s eyes.
Soon, they arrived at the Meng residence.
The moment the carriage stopped, Meng Ling'er, eager to return home, reasoned that in broad daylight and on a public street, that man wouldn’t dare act recklessly. With a quick "Mother, I’ll go in first to check," she hurried out of the carriage.
Pei Ying watched her daughter’s eager retreat with an amused smile. She really was still such a child.
Then a large hand extended toward her, palm upturned, unbothered by the faint scars marking his fingers and palm. "My lady, let me help you down."
Pei Ying naturally refused to place her hand in his. "There’s no need to trouble the general. I can—"
But the hand reached out anyway, firmly grasping her slender fingers. His palm was broad, easily enveloping hers, and he radiated warmth, as if his blood ran perpetually hot. The heat seared into her, leaving Pei Ying frozen in place.
"Mind your step, my lady," Huo Tingshan said, as if oblivious to her stiffness, steadily helping her down from the carriage before withdrawing his hand once she was steady.
Pei Ying had worried he might take liberties, but after assisting her down, he remained surprisingly proper.
She couldn’t help but recall last night—after that humiliating incident, he had spoken of "trusting" her again. Was this his way of maintaining a polite distance?
If he truly could retreat behind that safe boundary, she would be more than relieved.
Pei Ying murmured her thanks, tucking her hands into her sleeves.
When Huo Tingshan glanced down, all he caught was a fleeting glimpse of pink-white fingertips, like a startled little white koi darting back into its hiding place.
The man stared for a brief moment before calmly looking away.
Meng Ling'er had braced herself for a scene of chaos upon returning to the Meng residence, but reality defied her expectations.
The house was surprisingly tidy. The larger furniture remained neatly arranged, and not a single small item was missing. The floors even seemed cleaner than before, as if someone had taken the time to sweep them.
Meng Ling'er shook her head, dismissing the absurd thought.
Why would thieves bother cleaning? They weren’t that idle. It must just be her low expectations making the place seem better than it was.
She turned back to see Pei Ying and Huo Tingshan entering as well, maintaining a respectable distance between them. Satisfied, she nodded to herself.
After circling the main hall, Meng Ling'er tugged at Pei Ying’s sleeve. "Mother, let’s go to the bedchambers."
Pei Ying glanced at Huo Tingshan. "General, if you’ll excuse us."
Huo Tingshan caught the faint lift of relief in her tone—she was clearly eager to get away from him. "By all means, my lady. Pay me no mind."
Pei Ying and Meng Ling'er retreated to the eastern bedchamber, where everything remained as it had been. The bed curtains were still hooked up, and the two carved screens stood undisturbed before the bed, as if nothing had happened in the past few days.
Meng Ling'er’s eyes reddened as she looked around, and soon she broke into sobs. "Mother, it’s all those bandits’ fault! If not for them, Father wouldn’t have died, and Grandmother and the others wouldn’t have been killed. Those bandits destroyed our family!"
Pei Ying pulled her daughter into a comforting embrace. "You still have me, my dear. I’m here with you."
Meng Ling'er wept bitterly, but Pei Ying couldn’t share her grief. She had never met Meng Ducang, and her impression of Meng's Mother hadn’t been favorable.
Instead, she felt a deep melancholy—a sorrow for the cruelty of this era.
Murder didn’t always demand retribution. The lives of common folk were as cheap as grass, as light as dust. Those in power, with armies at their backs, waged battles for dominance, and with a single gesture, they could leave countless families shattered in their wake.
Unable to change the harsh feudal reality so different from the modern world, Pei Ying could only hold her daughter and soothe her again and again.
Meng Ling'er cried until exhaustion overtook her, leaving her limp and drained.
Seeing her fatigue, Pei Ying guided her to the bed. "Rest for a while, my dear. I’ll walk around the house and come back for you later."
Meng Ling'er caught her hand. "Mother, stay with me a little longer?"
Pei Ying sat back down at the bedside. "Sleep. I’ll leave once you’ve dozed off."
Meng Ling'er closed her eyes contentedly, her breathing soon steadying into sleep. Once certain her daughter was deep in slumber, Pei Ying rose quietly and left.
There was little to see in the bedchambers, so Pei Ying made her way to Meng Ducang’s study. She had been here before—when she last gathered their belongings in preparation to flee south.
The study wasn’t large. Against one wall stood two rosewood bookshelves, their lattice-like compartments filled with books and rolled-up scrolls.
By the window sat a small table with floral arrangements and a teapot—a place to relax after reading.
Between the table and the bookshelves, further in, was a long writing desk, flanked by a low cabinet that stored important documents.
A study is always bound to have valuable items—be it scroll paintings or a white jade paperweight. Pei Ying only hoped to find something she could pawn for silver. But as she searched, she realized something was amiss.
The study had been disturbed. Some items were no longer in their original positions. No, not just some—upon closer inspection, nearly everything had been shifted slightly. The entire study had been thoroughly searched.
Pei Ying’s first thought was that a thief had broken in, but then she remembered that the "thief" was likely one of Huo Tingshan’s men.
He had sent someone into the Meng residence’s study. But Meng Ducang was merely a minor county magistrate—what could he possibly possess that would interest a great general who commanded thousands of cavalry?
Pei Ying stood still, her delicate brows furrowed in thought. When she absentmindedly lifted her gaze, she noticed a small vase on the desk, its smooth surface reflecting her faint silhouette.
Her pupils contracted slightly as realization dawned on her.
Of course. They weren’t searching for Meng Ducang’s belongings—they were looking for traces of the stirrup designs and other innovations she had inadvertently revealed.
Three evenings ago, after the stirrup blueprints had been handed over, Huo Tingshan must have sent men to ransack the Meng residence. That was why Shui Su had later mentioned a nighttime intruder—likely one of his soldiers.
The day before yesterday, she had returned to the Meng residence to handle funeral arrangements and had entered the study for the first time then. Comparing it to today, the arrangement of items had changed again.
The rearrangement could have happened yesterday while she was fleeing, or perhaps last night, after she had passed along the terraced field designs—prompting Huo Tingshan to send men back to the Meng residence once more.
If it was the latter, it meant Huo Tingshan was a staunch atheist who merely paid lip service to the idea of divine dreams.
Still, Pei Ying doubted he would ever believe she was the true source of these innovations.
In this era, there were no academies for women. Even private tutors mostly taught needlework and other feminine arts.
Men in this feudal, patriarchal society held inherent advantages and monopolized nearly all resources.
And those at the very top of the hierarchy were especially arrogant—they would never, and likely refused to, believe a woman could surpass them.
If that were the case, perhaps she could...
"What is my lady searching for?" A deep voice sounded beside her.
Pei Ying startled, instinctively stepping away. But she was standing beside the desk, where a low cabinet blocked her path. Just as she was about to collide with its sharp corner, Huo Tingshan swiftly pulled her into his arms. "Be careful, my lady."
That iron-like arm encircled her waist again. Instinctively, she pressed a hand against his chest. They were too close—his presence enveloped her, as if an invisible hand had turned back time to that panic-stricken night.
"General!"
The arm around her waist slowly withdrew. Huo Tingshan looked down at her. "When I was young, during a campaign against the Wuhuan, we held a victory bonfire feast. But the heavens were unkind—just as the celebration began, heavy rain poured down. The fire was extinguished, leaving the meat half-raw. At the time, unwilling to waste it, I ate some. In all these years, that was the only time I’ve ever consumed uncooked meat."
Pei Ying’s ears tinged pink as she caught his implication—he was no savage beast who devoured raw flesh. Today, he had been far more restrained, but in her eyes, he was still no less formidable than a tiger or leopard.
Still, she thanked him politely.
Huo Tingshan teased, "My lady’s courage is not far from a rabbit’s."
Pei Ying disagreed. "If a rabbit were placed before the general, it would have bolted long ago."
Huo Tingshan smirked. "Then why hasn’t my lady run?"
Pei Ying faltered before murmuring, "It’s... different. I haven’t run yet."
Huo Tingshan chuckled and nodded. "Indeed. My lady’s bravery surpasses that of a rabbit."
Pei Ying pressed her lips together, unsure how to respond.
