Unwilling to discuss with Huo Tingshan whether her courage compared to that of a rabbit, Pei Ying changed the subject: "General, why are you here?"
"Idle with nothing to do, just wandering around. Never thought I’d run into you here, Madam." Huo Tingshan asked Pei Ying, "What were you searching for earlier? Do you need my help?"
Pei Ying initially intended to decline, but at the last moment, she altered her words: "Then I’ll trouble the General to help me look for a promissory note."
Huo Tingshan raised a brow: "Promissory note?"
Pei Ying nodded solemnly: "A silk promissory note. It was a gift from a close friend of my late husband. Back then, my husband unexpectedly helped him greatly, and in return, the friend gave him this note, promising that if my husband ever needed assistance—whether in gold, silver, or other forms of aid—he could present the silk note to claim it."
Huo Tingshan’s eyebrows lifted slightly: "Does Madam know where this friend resides?"
Pei Ying shook her head: "No. The address was written on the silk, but I only glanced at it briefly and didn’t examine it closely."
"No matter. We’ll search together." Though Huo Tingshan said "we," in reality, he barely spent half a cup of tea’s time rummaging before turning to call Xiong Mao and Qin Yang inside.
The study was searched again, and with their help, Pei Ying soon uncovered many items she desired—jade paperweights, inkstones, well-preserved scroll paintings, and the like.
All things that could be pawned for silver.
After discreetly slipping a fine inkstone into her small pouch, Pei Ying curled her lips in satisfaction. Just as she turned to search for more, she abruptly met a pair of deep, narrow eyes.
Her breath hitched—had he figured it out?
Huo Tingshan held a book he’d plucked randomly from the shelf. After locking eyes with Pei Ying, his long fingers closed, snapping the book shut with a crisp sound.
Pei Ying’s heart trembled along with it, a surge of panic rising. Then she heard Huo Tingshan say, "No need to search for the promissory note."
Xiong Mao and Qin Yang paused, puzzled.
Huo Tingshan kept his gaze on Pei Ying, his tone meaningful: "Just gather the valuables."
The two military men exchanged glances but obeyed without question.
Pei Ying tightened her grip on the pouch, realizing he must have seen through her—there was no promissory note, and his earlier belief had likely been momentary deception.
But since he hadn’t called her out, Pei Ying decided to push her luck: "General, I’d like to visit the pawnshop later."
"Mm. I’ll accompany you," Huo Tingshan agreed.
A glimmer of hope lit Pei Ying’s eyes as she ventured further: "And I’d like to find a broker."
Brokers were intermediaries for buying and selling in this era. If she wanted to sell the house, she’d need one.
Huo Tingshan watched as she tentatively extended a small feeler, like a cautious creature testing the limits of his patience. He placed the book back carelessly: "Then go."
As expected, though she tried to suppress it, the corners of her lips curled upward, her eyes crinkling with delight.
Huo Tingshan observed her for a moment longer, but the beautiful woman turned away, denying him further sight. The man clicked his tongue—it seemed Madam was not only skilled at slipping away but also at burning bridges.
With Xiong Mao and Qin Yang’s help, Pei Ying soon stripped the study bare.
Waste not, want not—Pei Ying then had them scour the entire house, gathering every pawnable item into several large chests.
Once everything was loaded onto the carriage, Pei Ying hesitated at the gate of the Meng residence.
Her daughter was still asleep inside. Should she wake Ling’er to bring her along? But the child had barely napped for half an hour.
"Qin Yang, you and the guards stay here to watch over Miss Meng," Huo Tingshan ordered.
Pei Ying’s hesitation eased slightly. She stepped forward and bowed to Qin Yang in gratitude.
Qin Yang saluted in return: "Madam Pei, rest assured. With me and the men here, not even a winged intruder could breach the Meng residence."
Finally, Pei Ying boarded the carriage. No sooner had she settled in than Huo Tingshan entered as well.
When she’d ridden back with her daughter earlier, the carriage had felt spacious, the cushioned seats comfortable. But now, with him inside, the same carriage suddenly felt cramped, the seats no longer as inviting.
Yet the carriage was his, and Pei Ying had no right to evict its owner. She resolved to ignore him—but the man’s gaze, though not improper, was unbearably direct, leaving her fidgeting. Unable to bear it, she spoke: "General, why forgo riding your fine steed, Wu Ye?"
To her surprise, he sidestepped the question: "So Madam remembers its name is Wu Ye. It seems my words have left an impression. I’m gratified."
Pei Ying decided some people were better off mute.
Huo Tingshan continued: "Last night, I told you the rewards for the terraced-field strategy would be delivered in time. That was no empty promise. When we return, I’ll ask you to accompany me."
Pei Ying grew wary: "What kind of reward?"
Huo Tingshan rested his arm on the side cabinet, fingers tapping idly. "Worldly treasures. Of course, if Madam prefers something else, I could offer myself instead."
Pei Ying flushed with anger: "Worldly treasures are fine. I like those."
Huo Tingshan chuckled. "Madam is the first lady to openly admit her love for gold and silver in front of me."
Pei Ying frowned. "I’m not like you, General. I lack your wealth. Right now, I need silver, so of course I love it."
Huo Tingshan sighed. "Not so. I, too, lack silver. Maintaining an army is costly—soldiers’ rations and pay, warhorses’ feed, weapons’ upkeep and replacement. All demand silver. In recent years, the heavens have been unkind. The north suffered drought, rivers dried, crops failed, and the people survived on wild herbs and dates. Corpses littered the land. During that time, I dreamed either of the Minister of Revenue weeping over empty coffers, unable to feed the starving, or of Youzhou desolate after the drought, the northern invaders seizing the chance to attack. Their soldiers strong, ours reduced to skin and bones, the battle lost, the passes breached, the enemy sweeping into the heartland. Great Chu plunged into misery, and I became history’s greatest sinner."
Pei Ying was taken aback. Seeing the rare shadow of sorrow on Huo Tingshan’s face, she realized he wasn’t always so fearsome.
She felt nothing for Huo Tingshan—indeed, his predatory masculinity terrified her.
But in this moment, he was merely a frontier general, burdened by worries of food shortages and enemy invasion.
Pei Ying said earnestly: "General, keep the rewards. Use the silver for your troops. I didn’t tell you about the terraced fields to claim repayment."
Huo Tingshan gazed into Pei Ying’s jet-black eyes, which were stunningly beautiful—like two obsidian marbles steeped in cold spring water. Her tone was solemn, matching the earnest expression on her face. She truly meant for him to take the gratitude gift to fund his troops.
Huo Tingshan suddenly let out a soft chuckle. Leaning back against the cushioned seat, his demeanor turned languid, as if the trace of melancholy Pei Ying had glimpsed earlier was merely her imagination. "Madam need not trouble yourself. The great drought has long passed, and I am hardly so destitute now that I cannot afford to give you a proper token of thanks."
Pei Ying was about to refuse again when he added, "Besides, I am a man of my word. What I promise, I deliver."
He emphasized "honor" once more, his gaze fixed intently on her, laden with unspoken meaning. Pei Ying’s thoughts instantly flashed back to the previous night.
She quickly lowered her eyes, thinking to herself that this man was not entirely well-behaved. Fine. If he insisted on giving her a gift, she would accept it.
The carriage soon arrived at the pawnshop. Pei Ying’s several chests of belongings were carried inside, and when she emerged again, she held a weighty money box in her hands.
Banknotes had not yet come into existence in this era. The primary currency was bronze coins, supplemented by gold and silver. The latter, however, were too high in value to circulate commonly among the populace.
After pawning off her belongings, the sheer weight of the coins she received now felt as though it might snap her wrist.
"Banknotes would be so much better," Pei Ying muttered under her breath.
"Let me carry it." Huo Tingshan took the money box from her.
Her hands suddenly lightened, and Pei Ying glanced at him. He held the box effortlessly in one hand, as if it were empty. Seeing this, she didn’t argue.
Once the transaction was complete, they returned to the carriage to seek out a broker. Huo Tingshan placed the money box on a low cabinet beside him. "What exactly are these 'banknotes' you mentioned earlier, Madam?"
Pei Ying, who had been rubbing her sore wrist, paused. She hadn’t expected him to overhear her quiet remark.
Did this man have the ears of a dog?
A thought struck her, and she pressed her lips together in amusement. "The term 'banknote' was something my late husband heard from his dear friend. It refers to paper currency imprinted with specific denominations, meant to replace large sums of coins for easier circulation and portability."
Huo Tingshan’s brows knitted tightly. After listening, he immediately scoffed, "Preposterous." How could paper ever replace gold and silver? Paper was insignificant, its value incomparable to precious metals.
Yet after a moment of contemplation, he conceded, "Perhaps one day it could work. But in these turbulent times, with regions increasingly governing themselves, a banknote issued in one place would hold no value in another. What you described would only be feasible in a peaceful, unified empire."
Pei Ying hummed in agreement. "Gold in chaos, antiques in prosperity."
"Speaking of your late husband’s friend—who was he?" Huo Tingshan asked.
Pei Ying replied, "I don’t know the details. I only know he fled from the south and was rescued by my husband, after which they became close friends."
Huo Tingshan pressed further, "Where exactly did Magistrate Meng save him?"
Pei Ying shook her head. "My husband never told me."
A faint smirk tugged at Huo Tingshan’s lips. "It seems your late husband had little to discuss with you, Madam, if he didn’t even mention the circumstances of his own friends."
Pei Ying pressed her lips together and fell silent, as if irritated.
Seeing her reluctance to engage, Huo Tingshan didn’t push further. He reclined against the seat, arms crossed, watching her with an inscrutable expression.
Brokers were easy to find—many made a living from such dealings. After locating one in the marketplace, Pei Ying brought him back to the Meng residence. By the time they returned, Meng Ling'er was still asleep.
When she finally awoke, the price for the Meng estate had already been settled, awaiting only a buyer.
"Mother, you went out with him? Did he force you?" Meng Ling'er belatedly realized they had left while she slept and bristled with indignation.
Pei Ying, seeing her daughter’s alarm, reached out to stroke her cheek, then pinched it playfully. "No one forced me. We were handling important matters, and all is well."
Today, the man had been far more restrained than yesterday. Aside from holding her hand a little too long when helping her out of the carriage, he had treated her with the courtesy of a guest.
Meng Ling'er remained skeptical.
Could a wolf truly change its carnivorous nature? Unlikely.
With their business concluded, it was time to return.
The journey back mirrored their departure—Meng Ling'er and Pei Ying in the carriage, Huo Tingshan on horseback.
Upon arriving at the estate and finishing the evening meal, Meng Ling'er was politely escorted back to her own quarters by Xin Jin. Pei Ying watched her daughter’s reluctant, lingering steps with a mix of amusement and resignation.
Such was the life of dependence—bound by circumstance.
Once Meng Ling'er was out of sight, Pei Ying turned to retire to her room. But just then, the door to the adjacent chamber opened, and a tall figure emerged. "Madam, come with me. I’ll have you select your token of thanks."
