As dusk fell, Pei Ying was led away by Huo Tingshan to receive gifts of gratitude. Unwilling to walk too close to him, she trailed two steps behind.
The fading glow of the sunset stretched their shadows long across the ground. Pei Ying stepped on Huo Tingshan's shadow and secretly stomped on it with a little force.
"My lady."
Pei Ying startled and quickly looked up to see Huo Tingshan turning his head toward her.
He couldn’t have noticed, could he?
Huo Tingshan hadn’t actually seen her little act, but the nervousness and guilt on her face were unmistakable—anyone with eyes could tell. "What was my lady doing just now?"
Pei Ying shook her head in denial. "Nothing."
Huo Tingshan nodded, and just as Pei Ying thought the matter was dropped, he added, "If my lady has any requests, she need only tell me. As long as they aren’t unreasonable, I’ll likely agree."
Pei Ying recalled his earlier insistence on "honor and integrity" and couldn’t help but say, "Of course it wouldn’t be anything unreasonable, General. I only wish to return home with my daughter."
She had tested him several times today, and each time he had acquiesced. Now, bringing it up again, she wondered if there might be an unexpected delight.
Huo Tingshan smiled and, under Pei Ying’s increasingly expectant gaze, said, "Allowing my lady to return home falls outside the realm of 'likely.'"
Pei Ying turned her face away, refusing to look at him.
Huo Tingshan continued watching her. The more time they spent together, the more he understood her. She was undoubtedly good-natured, gentle even to low-born maidservants, yet she was no soft, shapeless lump—she had her own little temper too.
Like now, displeased that he wouldn’t let her leave, she didn’t want to speak to him.
Huo Tingshan said, "My lady, come with me."
Pei Ying was eventually led to the front of a side chamber. Huo Tingshan stood before her and pushed the door open. "You may take anything in this room, my lady. There’s no limit."
With a creak, the door swung wide.
Lamps illuminated the chamber, their glow falling upon rows of treasures deliberately arranged to dazzle—each piece glittering and radiant.
The treasures were varied: agate hairpins and golden armlets favored by noblewomen, exquisitely carved jade pillows, golden figurines of fierce beasts, jewel-encrusted daggers, boxes brimming with smooth, lustrous pearls…
The room had been stripped of beds, tables, and chairs, replaced by newly arranged shelves displaying only these riches. The shelves stood in neat rows, showcasing their contents to maximum effect.
Pei Ying was stunned. "General, what is this?"
Huo Tingshan didn’t hide the truth. "This was originally the county magistrate’s treasure vault. Now, it’s mine. On campaign, we keep things simple, so I haven’t much of value on hand. Please make do for now, my lady. Once we return to Guangping Commandery, I’ll find more treasures for you."
Pei Ying’s expression turned complicated.
So the "gifts of gratitude" he spoke of were just spoils plundered from the dead.
"You might not see clearly from the doorway. Why not step inside for a better look?" Huo Tingshan took her hand and led her in.
In the brief moment she hesitated, her fingers were enveloped by his large palm. The man seemed forged from a furnace—every time they touched, his skin radiated heat.
"General, there’s no need to trouble yourself," Pei Ying said, attempting to pull away.
Huo Tingshan held firm, only releasing her once they reached the shelves. "See what catches your eye, my lady. Take whatever you like."
Pei Ying lowered her gaze, her eyes briefly flickering to his arms, now folded behind his back.
This man truly left her at a loss for words—call him proper, yet he disregarded all notions of propriety between men and women; call him improper, yet he knew when to stop.
The room held only the two of them, so quiet it felt stifling. Pei Ying had no choice but to fix her gaze on the treasures displayed on the shelves.
But truth be told, as someone who had visited Beijing, the island across the strait, and even the British Museum, it was hard for her to be impressed by these treasures, which paled in comparison to the collections of the nobility in Chang'an—despite the abundance of gold and gemstones among them.
While Pei Ying studied the treasures, Huo Tingshan studied her.
The soft glow of the lanterns bathed the beautiful woman’s face, casting a halo over her exquisite features. Her delicate nose cast subtle shadows, and the flickering light reflected in her eyes like rippling water, a mesmerizing interplay of light and dark.
Yet Huo Tingshan noticed that those lovely eyes remained calm. As she looked upon these treasures, there was neither awe nor greed in her gaze.
Could it be… she found them unworthy?
To him, these items were all quite fine—each could fetch a good price, and the silver could fund his troops.
But since his lady thought little of them, he would simply have to find better ones in the future.
Pei Ying circled the room, examining every shelf, and finally settled on a small rouge box inlaid with agate and gemstones.
The box was no larger than a woman’s palm, small enough for her to hold comfortably in one hand.
"General, I would like only this rouge box," Pei Ying said to Huo Tingshan.
Huo Tingshan replied, "Not taking more?"
Pei Ying shook her head—there was nothing else she fancied.
This rouge box alone was small and portable, easy to pawn off for a handsome sum.
Seeing that she truly desired nothing else, Huo Tingshan had no choice but to concede.
......
Pei Ying remained at the county magistrate’s residence for seven more days. The time passed comfortably, with Huo Tingshan occasionally sending maids to invite her to dine with him—but no more than that. Once the meal ended, she was free to go wherever she pleased.
On the third day, the broker Pei Ying had entrusted with selling her estate sent word—a buyer had been found.
The Meng residence was a well-preserved, two-courtyard home in a desirable location, so finding a buyer was never in doubt. The purchaser, aware of this, did not haggle and closed the deal swiftly.
After deducting the broker’s commission, Pei Ying received twenty-five taels of silver.
By the afternoon of the sixth day, Huo Tingshan informed her that they would depart Beichuan County the following morning. Thus, after breakfast the next day, Pei Ying and Meng Ling'er were escorted to a carriage.
"Mother, where are we going?" Meng Ling'er nestled against Pei Ying’s shoulder.
"Perhaps south, or maybe to Bingzhou nearby. In any case, we won’t be returning to Youzhou," Pei Ying replied, gazing out the window where the raised curtain revealed Huo Tingshan riding his horse in the distance.
His steed, Wu Ye, had been fitted with a high-cantled saddle and stirrups. Huo Tingshan looked thoroughly pleased as he rode Wu Ye back and forth in circles.
Compared to Huo Tingshan’s restrained demeanor, the excitement of his generals, Xiong Mao and Qin Yang, was far more unrestrained.
Xiong Mao’s face flushed crimson with exhilaration. Taking a long blade from a guard, he first held it in his right hand, then gestured for another sword. Armed with both weapons, he galloped down the road and back, shouting, "Commander, this is exhilarating!"
"Marvelous, absolutely marvelous!"
Huo Tingshan watched his subordinates frolicking freely through the streets, well understanding their soaring spirits.
Equipped with these two divine artifacts, the cavalry could be said to have gained wings like a tiger. Though these artifacts would eventually become known to others, having the first-mover advantage was enough.
Huo Tingshan: "Alright, let's move out."
The army set off.
When marching to war, they still traveled along the official roads. The vast procession of troops advanced, forcing civilians to make way.
Pei Ying’s guess was correct—Huo Tingshan’s army was heading south. They marched almost the entire day, only halting when the golden sun dipped below the western horizon.
A little over two hours earlier, they had left a county behind, yet the next one was still out of reach. The army had no choice but to set up camp in the wilderness.
Camping in the wild required careful planning—a square formation with the commander’s tent at the center. The camp was structured with layers of units, interconnected for swift reinforcement.
By now, the central command tent had been erected, where Huo Tingshan, his generals, and strategists gathered.
They sat around a table spread with a sheepskin map.
"Master Gongsun, your foresight is truly remarkable. We haven’t encountered a single large-scale ambush along the way," Xiong Mao said, utterly in awe of Gongsun Liang.
They were troops from Youzhou. By law, they were forbidden to leave Youzhou without the emperor’s decree—doing so would brand them as rebels plotting treason.
Garrisons from other provinces had every right to attack such "traitors," even pursuing them back to their stronghold without repercussions.
But times had changed. Yuan Ding, the Governor of Jizhou, was critically ill, and a massive uprising had erupted within the province.
Rebellions had become common in recent years. The extravagant and corrupt Chu royal family, coupled with Emperor Zhao’s incompetence and favoritism toward eunuchs, had intensified the power struggles between the imperial relatives and the eunuch faction, leading to rampant corruption in the court.
Over the past two years, uprisings had grown frequent—small revolts every few months, large-scale rebellions every year.
But the uprising in Jizhou was unprecedented in scale. It began in Guangping Commandery, where rebels marked themselves with blue headbands, secretly rallying forces. By the time the Jizhou garrison realized, the rebels had already swelled in numbers, spreading to neighboring counties. When the truth could no longer be concealed, the world was stunned to learn that the rebel forces in Jizhou alone numbered over a hundred thousand.
Governor Yuan Ding, both furious and terrified, reportedly led his troops into battle despite suffering from illness. But to his shock, traitors within the Jizhou army struck him with a hidden arrow during the fight.
Yuan Ding fell from his horse on the spot, and the Jizhou forces, their morale shattered, retreated in defeat. The emboldened rebels seized several cities in Jizhou.
Emperor Zhao, enraged by the news, approved a court proposal to appoint Huang Muyong as the Grand General Protector of the Nation. He dispatched part of the imperial garrison, ordering Huang to swiftly march to Jizhou and suppress the rebellion. At the same time, he reprimanded Yuan Ding in a decree, demanding that he hand over military authority to Huang Muyong.
Yuan Ding, who had entrenched himself in Jizhou for years, was unwilling to surrender power to an outsider, and his subordinates likewise refused to submit to Huang Muyong’s command.
But with Yuan Ding severely wounded, Jizhou was left leaderless. Though Huang Muyong had imperial troops at his disposal, their numbers were insufficient to overpower the Jizhou army.
The stalemate between the two sides gave the rebels another opportunity. The Blue Scarf Army, fierce as tigers, captured more cities in Jizhou. Realizing the dire situation, Yuan Ding and Huang Muyong temporarily set aside their conflict to unite against the rebels.
Yet it was too late. The Blue Scarf Army, like a ravenous beast that knew no satiety, swelled in size after conquering multiple cities. Even if Yuan Ding and Huang Muyong combined all their forces, they might not be able to crush the well-fed and battle-ready rebels.
Huo Tingshan’s Youzhou army marched south into Jizhou under the pretense of offering reinforcements amid these circumstances.
"Master Gongsun, might we encounter forces from other provinces during this journey to Jizhou? And if we do, how should we proceed?" Sha Ying frowned.
Gongsun Liang stroked his goatee. "There’s an eighty to ninety percent chance we will. Jizhou borders Youzhou to the north, Bingzhou to the west, and Qingzhou, Yanzhou, and Sizhou to the south. It’s not just our Youzhou forces—other provinces have also been biding their time, waiting for the right moment. As for how to handle such encounters, we’ll adapt as the situation demands."
What exactly was the right moment?
Naturally, it was when both the allied forces of Jizhou and the imperial court, as well as the Blue Scarf Army, had worn each other down. Just as the saying goes, "When the snipe and the clam grapple, the fisherman profits." Everyone wanted to be that fisherman.
Before this, the Youzhou army had remained stationed in Beichuan County, waiting not only for the opportune moment—for the situation to deteriorate further—but also for the completion of saddles and stirrups.
Now, the time was ripe, and the divine tools had been delivered to the front lines.
Everything was in place.
