Tan Jin had fresh, slender red scratches on the back of his hand, slightly swollen—clearly left by a woman not long ago.
Huo Tingshan lowered his gaze.
Among the Youzhou army, only four women were staying at the governor's residence. As for how many women the other two provinces had brought along, Huo Tingshan had no idea.
The Youzhou army had no camp followers, but he couldn’t guarantee the same for the others. Especially for high-ranking officers like Tan Jin, bringing a concubine along wasn’t unheard of.
Still…
For a concubine to dare leave such marks on her master’s hand—she must either be bold beyond measure or utterly unafraid of being sold off.
Perhaps Huo Tingshan’s gaze lingered a moment too long, because Tan Jin noticed. He glanced down at his hand, his pupils contracting briefly before he instinctively tried to tuck it into his sleeve. Then, realizing how guilty that made him look, he stopped.
What was there to hide? A real man bore such marks with pride. If others saw, they’d at most call him a libertine.
So Tan Jin didn’t conceal it. Instead, he raised his hand, adjusting his collar in a way that deliberately displayed the scratches to Huo Tingshan. "Forgive my unsightly state, Governor Huo."
Huo Tingshan smirked meaningfully. "I’ve heard of Tan Commander’s tiger-like ferocity, but I never imagined it extended to this—unable to even wait for a banquet to end."
Tan Jin caught the insult—Huo Tingshan was calling him a lustful beast. His smile stiffened slightly. "Life is short. One must seize pleasure where one can."
The two men entered the latrine together.
The governor’s residence had only a rudimentary partition at the entrance of the latrine, with no further privacy inside. A few wooden buckets were placed at the far end.
They stepped forward to relieve themselves, but Tan Jin suddenly froze, his face twisting in discomfort.
He was still swollen and in too much pain to manage it.
Huo Tingshan glanced over and scoffed. "Commander Tan, is this exhaustion from overindulgence, or simply incompetence? There’s a decent physician in Beichuan County, though I’m not sure even he can treat a case of hydrocele this severe."
Tan Jin’s face, already pale from pain, darkened further.
In the end, he couldn’t relieve himself at all.
Huo Tingshan finished with ease, fastened his belt, and watched as Tan Jin slowly adjusted his own clothes, still visibly in pain. He chuckled. "I’ll head back first. Commander Tan, you might want to stay a while longer—save yourself the trouble of making three more trips later."
Tan Jin gritted his teeth.
Huo Tingshan was truly detestable!
Hah. Little did the man know, his beloved concubine was now in Tan Jin’s hands. Let Huo Tingshan gloat for now—once the banquet ended, he’d make the woman apologize to him properly in bed.
Tan Jin glanced down at himself. By tonight… surely he’d be functional again.
He didn’t linger long in the latrine before returning to the main hall, where the atmosphere had grown even more raucous in his absence.
Liu Baiquan, no longer content to stay seated, was now roaming with a wine cup, urging others to drink. The moment Tan Jin stepped in, he was caught.
"Commander Tan! Where have you been hiding? Did you think so little of us that you couldn’t bear to drink with us?" Liu Baiquan, the governor of Sizhou, hiccuped.
The accusation was heavy, and Tan Jin quickly denied it. "Not at all. I merely stepped out to the latrine."
Liu Baiquan shoved a wine cup into his hand. "You’ve been gone too long. Don’t you think you owe us three cups as penalty?"
A chorus of agreement rose from the Youzhou and Sizhou officers around them.
"Three? That’s too light! Make it five!"
"Come on, Commander Tan! A real man drinks without hesitation!"
Cornered, Tan Jin downed the cup in one go, then turned it upside down to prove it was empty, earning cheers. But before he could set it down, it was refilled.
Huo Tingshan watched from the head seat, amused.
Everyone knew he had an iron tolerance for liquor—no fun trying to outdrink someone who never got drunk. So after a few rounds, most gave up on him and turned their attention to easier targets.
When Pei Ying woke, her head throbbed, and the back of her neck ached. At first, she thought she’d simply overslept and tried to rub her temples.
But her hands wouldn’t move.
Her wrists were bound.
Pei Ying’s eyes flew open. Above her was a plain bed canopy, identical to the one in her own room.
She lay on the bed, her wrists tied with coarse rope that looped through the carved wooden frame and knotted tightly.
Turning her head, she spotted Xin Jin on the floor, similarly bound, her face pale and unconscious—likely still suffering from the kick she’d taken.
The room was unlit, save for the faintest hint of daylight seeping through the window. Pei Ying guessed no more than an hour had passed since she’d been knocked out in the garden.
Thankfully, her constitution was strong, and the commander must have held back, fearing he’d kill her. That was why she’d woken early.
She had to escape before he returned.
Testing the ropes, she found them painfully tight, her skin discolored beneath them.
Shifting slightly, she tried biting the rope, but it didn’t budge. She refused to give up, trying again, but after several attempts, she was panting with exertion—and no closer to freedom.
Then something clattered to the floor.
A silver hairpin.
Pei Ying blinked, then felt a surge of hope—and frustration at her own forgetfulness.
Back in Beichuan, she’d had a craftsman sharpen the tip of this pin and refine one wing of its butterfly adornment into a blade.
She’d been too panicked earlier to remember it.
Carefully, she picked up the pin with her teeth and began sawing at the rope.
It was slow work, but she told herself at least the rope wasn’t thick. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead as she worked, and finally, only a few strands remained.
Rather than waste more time, she spat out the pin, gritted her teeth, and yanked her wrists apart with all her strength.
A faint rip sounded as the rope snapped.
Pei Ying exhaled in relief, her heart lighter.
She scrambled off the bed, ignoring the pain in her wrists, and hurried to untie Xin Jin. Once freed, she pressed her fingers to the girl’s philtrum.
After a moment, Xin Jin stirred, blinking up at her in confusion. "Madam?"
Pei Ying patted her cheek gently. "Be quiet, Xin Jin. Don’t scream."
Memories returned, and Xin Jin’s face paled further, her hand drifting to her still-tender abdomen. "Madam, we…"
Pei Ying whispered, "That man brought us here. But he’s not back yet—probably still at the banquet."
They hadn’t been in the governor’s residence long before Pei—
Pei Ying knew that people from two other provinces had also moved in, but as the Youzhou army that first breached Guangping Commandery had taken the main courtyard. The armies of Sizhou and Yanzhou were stationed on the left and right sides respectively.
The commandery governor's mansion, after all, was merely the residence of a local official, and accommodating the core commanders of three provinces was already a stretch. As for the mid and lower-ranking soldiers, except for a few on patrol, the rest were not housed in the mansion.
At that moment, a banquet was being held in the front hall, with all the core commanders in attendance.
"Xin Jin, they're all in the front hall. Now might be our best chance to escape," Pei Ying whispered.
Xin Jin nodded emphatically. "This servant will follow Madam's lead."
Pei Ying tiptoed to the window.
Before the Song Dynasty, affluent households would line their windows with paper, mother-of-pearl, or silk to maximize natural light.
The windows of this commandery governor's mansion were covered with silk—thin silk at that. Just this detail alone revealed how extravagantly wealthy the former governor of Guangping Commandery had been.
Pei Ying used a silver hairpin to poke a hole in the thin silk covering the window, relieved that the sun had already set. Otherwise, the light outside would have cast her shadow against the window.
Outside the chamber was a sizable courtyard, guarded by two soldiers stationed at the gate on either side.
Pei Ying frowned.
Even if there had been only one guard, neither she nor Xin Jin could have overpowered them.
Just as Pei Ying was considering whether to simply hide in the room and leave the door slightly ajar to create the illusion that they had already fled, she heard the rhythmic clatter of hooves on brick, accompanied by the creaking of wheels.
Pei Ying froze.
A carriage was approaching?
Indeed, a carriage had arrived.
A Yanzhou soldier led a large chestnut horse through the arched gate guarded by the sentries. The horse pulled a carriage behind it.
Unlike the carriages used by nobility, which had doors on the front side, this one had doors on both the front and rear sides. Such carriages were typically used for transporting goods, as the rear door made loading and unloading easier.
"The carriage is here. Move those treasures onto it—not a single piece missing. Each crate must be opened and checked against the inventory before loading," the Yanzhou soldier accompanying the carriage said, handing over a list.
"Aye," the two gatekeepers responded, taking the list before heading to the adjacent chamber.
Pei Ying considered making a run for it with Xin Jin while the guards were occupied, but the soldier holding the horse remained in the courtyard, watching the other two work.
Soon, the two gatekeepers emerged from the neighboring chamber carrying a crate.
The one on the right remarked, "The commandery governor's mansion sure has plenty of treasures. And these are just the ones the governor left behind—imagine how much he must have extorted from the people."
The one on the left added, "That's not all. This is only the share given to our Yanzhou army. Youzhou, being the ones who breached Guangping Commandery, took the lion's share."
The right guard said, "I heard from the squad leader that the higher-ups ordered only the finest treasures to be taken. The rest are to be sold at pawnshops for silver."
"Silver's good. Maybe we'll get more meat in our rations soon."
Back and forth they went, hauling crate after crate from the neighboring chamber onto the carriage.
Pei Ying bit her lip, anxiety gnawing at her.
No, there was no opening like this. No chance to slip away unnoticed.
Just give me one opportunity, she pleaded silently. If I can escape this time, I swear I’ll contribute even more to this era’s agriculture.
As if in answer to her desperate prayer, she heard the Yanzhou soldier holding the horse say, "Only a few crates left. Hurry up and finish. I need to visit the latrine."
The founding emperor of Great Chu had decreed that citizens were forbidden to relieve themselves indiscriminately within city limits. First-time offenders were fined, repeat offenders faced doubled penalties, and those caught a third time were subjected to corporal punishment.
Public latrines existed, but they were foul places anyone could use. Weighing his options, the soldier decided the commandery governor's private latrine was the better choice.
As soon as he left, Pei Ying motioned to Xin Jin. "Xin Jin, there’s one less person outside now. We’ll make our move when they go back inside to fetch more crates."
Xin Jin nodded obediently.
But Pei Ying hadn’t accounted for one thing—perhaps because there were only a few items left, the two guards stacked the remaining crates and carried them all in one trip.
Pei Ying’s heart sank as she watched the piled-up wooden boxes.
Just as she feared, the guards loaded the last of the crates onto the carriage in one go and dusted their hands. "Finally done."
The other guard turned. "Let’s go. The banquet should be ending soon. The commander will be back before long."
"Wait, let me turn the carriage around first. It’ll be easier to leave later."
"Ah, good thinking."
The chestnut horse was led in a circle until the carriage’s rear faced the chamber, its front now aligned with the exit.
Pei Ying, who had nearly given up hope, stared in disbelief.
The two guards, satisfied with their work, returned to their posts at the courtyard gate.
......
The Yanzhou soldier returned from the latrine, checked the neighboring chamber to confirm all crates had been moved, and then climbed onto the carriage.
As the carriage rolled toward a side gate, three guards stood watch—one from each province.
"State your business," one demanded.
"Transporting treasures out of the mansion," the driver answered.
The guards, aware of the operation, waved him through.
Unlike a military camp, the commandery governor's mansion had limited space and a finite number of stationed troops. With so many high-ranking officers inside, security prioritized strict entry checks over exits.
Anyone or anything entering the mansion had to undergo three rounds of inspection—first by Youzhou soldiers, then Yanzhou, and finally Sizhou.
But those leaving faced no such hassle.
The carriage passed through the gate and out of the mansion.
Pei Ying and Xin Jin huddled inside, having heard the exchange at the gate.
For a moment, Pei Ying wondered if any Youzhou soldiers were among the guards, but she didn’t dare take the risk.
The mansion had multiple side gates, and the Yanzhou contingent would naturally use the one closest to them—the one surely guarded by Yanzhou soldiers.
But she couldn’t be certain it was only Yanzhou men.
And so, she held back.
The carriage soon came to a stop outside. Another soldier climbed aboard, joining the driver at the front as they set off toward a pawnshop in the commandery.
Pei Ying tensed at the sound of an additional guard.
Why had another soldier appeared?
Of course—transporting valuables alone was unwise, and with space for one more up front, it made sense to send an escort.
Testing her luck, Pei Ying pushed against the rear door.
This type of carriage, called a "zi che," was designed for transporting supplies. Its rear door had no latch—after all, it was meant for hauling grain and goods.
Those daring enough to rob military provisions were likely no one but another faction of soldiers. If it were indeed the army, a mere lock would hardly stop them.
Pei Ying slowly pushed open the carriage’s rear door and whispered, "Xin Jin, I think we need to jump."
Jumping carried great risks. A bad landing could mean broken ribs piercing the lungs or heart—leaving no chance of survival.
Ancient carriages traveled at speeds of 20–30 km/h. This one, laden with goods, likely didn’t exceed 20 km/h.
It was worth a gamble.
"My lady, let me jump first and cushion your fall," Xin Jin said earnestly.
Pei Ying couldn’t let the girl take the brunt for her, especially after Xin Jin had been kicked earlier. A girl’s abdomen was soft—such a heavy blow must have caused internal injuries.
"There’s no need—"
But Xin Jin had already leapt.
Pei Ying was startled by the girl’s decisiveness. Only after watching her land and roll aside did Pei Ying jump.
She had planned how to land to minimize impact, but when the moment came, her mind understood—her limbs did not.
Her right ankle seared with pain upon landing, the agony making her breath tremble.
A small mercy: since Youzhou’s army had just breached the city, the streets were nearly empty, civilians too afraid to venture out.
A few passersby saw the women tumble from the carriage but dared not react, pretending not to notice to avoid trouble.
"Did you hear something just now?" one of the carriage guards suddenly asked.
"What noise?"
"The carriage shifted, I think."
His companion scoffed. "If the carriage didn’t move while moving, that’d be the real problem."
Another guard scratched his cheek, then glanced back. Two women sat slumped on the road behind them, their faces turned away.
He turned forward again. Just two women—nothing unusual. Maybe he’d imagined it.
......
The feast at the governor’s manor lasted deep into the night, ending only an hour after darkness fully claimed the sky.
Drunken officers staggered back to their quarters—some slurring boasts of battling rebel forces, others insisting on inspecting the manor’s treasures.
Huo Tingshan rose from his seat. Though he’d drunk plenty, intoxication eluded him.
Guangping Commandery had fallen. Once Ji Province’s troops arrived, the waters would be muddied further.
He returned to the rear courtyard.
His room, as always, neighbored Pei Ying’s. Passing hers, he glanced at the darkened windows.
Had she retired already?
Earlier than usual—the march must have worn her out.
Huo Tingshan entered his chambers to bathe and change.
Meanwhile, Meng Ling'er, finally recovered from her motion sickness, decided to seek out Pei Ying.
At her age, clinging to her mother might seem childish, but given their "family’s ruin," why shouldn’t she seek comfort?
Besides, sharing a tent during the campaign had made bedtime stories a habit. Tonight’s visit was justified.
She skipped toward Pei Ying’s quarters, only to find them pitch-black.
Bewildered, she murmured, "Mother never rests this early. Is she still in the gardens? Shui Su, let’s check."
They combed every corner of the gardens but found no trace.
"Not here either? Could she be in her room after all...?"
They hurried back. The room remained dark, its shadows stretching eerily across the windows.
Meng Ling'er’s pulse quickened with inexplicable dread. After a pause, she pushed the door.
It creaked open—unlocked.
Her stomach dropped.
She’d warned her mother to lock the door nightly, especially with that brute next door.
Yet it was unsecured.
Was she even inside?
Meng Ling'er rushed to the bed. The neatly folded blankets confirmed the room’s emptiness.
Something in her mind snapped. Without hesitation, she stormed out and hammered on the adjacent lit door.
Fresh from his bath, Huo Tingshan threw on a robe and answered.
His brows rose at the sight of Meng Ling'er. "Little one, I’ve no interest in sprouts. Send your mother if you need something."
A girl knocking at night usually meant one thing in his experience.
Meng Ling'er flushed crimson, then shouted, "Give my mother back!"
If Pei Ying wasn’t in her room or the gardens, where else could she be but here?
"And if I refuse?" Huo Tingshan drawled.
His smirk confirmed her suspicions. She barged past him. "Mother!"
A veteran of battlefields, Huo Tingshan easily caught her collar, yanking her back. His voice turned icy. "Men’s quarters aren’t for girls to barge into. Tomorrow, I’ll remind your mother to teach you manners."
Though cowed by his glare, Meng Ling'er jutted her chin. "Return her to me!"
Huo Tingshan’s eyes narrowed. He stepped aside. "See for yourself—she isn’t here."
Meng Ling'er marched in, scanning every corner. "Impossible! I’ve searched everywhere—her room, the gardens, even the kitchens! If she’s not with you, where—?"
Suddenly recalling the scratches on Tan Jin’s hand, Huo Tingshan’s expression darkened. He strode out, ignoring Meng Ling'er’s protests.
"Hey! Where are you—?"
......
BANG!
Huo Tingshan kicked Tan Jin’s door open with such force the hinges splintered.
The man inside jumped. "H-Huo of Youzhou?"
Huo Tingshan’s voice was deadly calm. "Commander Tan. Where is my person?"
Tan Jin watched as Huo Tingshan stormed in with an intimidating aura, his heart fluttering in panic. Yet he quickly steadied himself, forcing out a faint smile. "Forgive my ignorance, but I’m afraid I don’t understand what the Governor of Youzhou means."
Huo Tingshan’s gaze swept across the room before halting abruptly at one spot. His pupils contracted slightly, a sharp, almost terrifying glint flashing in his eyes.
In a few swift strides, he stepped forward and bent down, retrieving an emerald-green hair ribbon from the edge of the bed.
"Commander Tan," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "I’ll ask you one last time—where is my wife? Don’t test my patience unless you’d rather taste the wrath of the King of Hell himself."
