Meng Ling'er froze. "What do you mean, 'walked into a trap'?"
Pei Ying tightened her grip on her hand. "They must have deliberately let you leave. Perhaps they already knew I was at the medical clinic yesterday."
Meng Ling'er's face paled. "How could that be? I made sure to check—no one followed me..."
Pei Ying exhaled heavily. "There are countless soldiers in Youzhou. You couldn’t possibly recognize all of them."
Torn between panic and guilt, Meng Ling'er asked, "Mother, what should we do now?"
"You mentioned earlier that the guards at the gate asked when you'd return. What did you tell them?" Pei Ying questioned.
Meng Ling'er murmured, "I said I’d be back by the hour of the Snake [1-3 PM]."
A slow smile spread across Pei Ying’s face as relief washed over her. "It’s not past that time yet. There’s still room to fix this. Ling'er, listen carefully. You, Shui Su, and Xin Jin must return now. Tell any Youzhou soldier in the residence that you saw me."
At this point, Pei Ying knew escape today was impossible. Ahead lay a deep pit—one more step, and something terrifying would surely happen.
Meng Ling'er heeded her advice, picking up her small bundle and reluctantly leaving the clinic.
Once outside, tears finally spilled down her cheeks. "Shui Su, I’ve realized I’m nowhere near as clever as Father claimed. I’m just a fool—arrogant and stupid, thinking I could outmaneuver them, only to lead them straight to Mother’s hiding place. I nearly put her in grave danger."
Shui Su quickly reassured her, "Young Mistress, don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re still young. Those men have seen far more of the world than you. How could you compare? Besides, their act yesterday was convincing—even I believed they meant no harm."
As the master and servant whispered, Xin Jin followed silently behind them, the trio gradually disappearing into the distance.
None of them noticed the carriage parked in the opposite direction. Inside, the curtain was lifted slightly, revealing a man who raised an eyebrow when only three figures emerged. "My wife figured it out?"
Huo Tingshan felt a twinge of disappointment, yet an inexplicable satisfaction lingered. He stepped down from the carriage and strode toward the clinic.
The clinic was open during daylight hours. The elderly physician sat in the main hall, initially assuming the approaching footsteps belonged to a patient—until he looked up and froze.
The visitor was tall and broad-shouldered, his features sternly handsome, his physique solid and well-built. The physician noted his ruddy complexion, a sign of robust health.
This man clearly wasn’t here for treatment.
The old physician spoke up, "May I ask what brings you here, sir?"
Huo Tingshan ignored him, walking straight into the inner chamber.
The physician gaped. "You—"
Clink. A string of copper coins landed on the table.
Qin Yang smiled amiably. "Our thanks for tending to Madam these past two days. This is your payment. We’d appreciate it if you refrained from asking unnecessary questions."
The physician fell silent.
---
Inner Chamber
Pei Ying had anticipated Huo Tingshan’s arrival—but not this soon.
Her daughter had barely left when he appeared, meaning Meng Ling'er couldn’t have possibly returned to the governor’s residence yet. He’d been waiting outside all along, biding his time until the hour of the Snake passed… and likely expecting all four of them to leave together.
The realization made her dizzy.
Huo Tingshan’s gaze swept over Pei Ying, seated on the bed. Nearly two days apart, yet his wife remained as radiant as ever, showing little sign of distress. Except—
What in heaven’s name was she wearing?
Is that sackcloth? She’d rather dress in rags than return home?
Annoyance flickered in his eyes. "I never knew my wife had such refined tastes. Perhaps I should have your quarters at the residence remodeled—smaller, with some rotten planks and tattered fabric to match your current aesthetic. That way, you won’t be so reluctant to return."
Pei Ying had braced for fury. Instead, she got icy sarcasm. It was almost… surprising.
From their first meeting, she’d pegged him as hot-tempered—the type who casually threatened to let others’ "grave grass grow three feet tall."
Lowering her lashes, she then lifted them, revealing a hint of grievance. "General, it’s not that I refuse to return. I simply… cannot walk properly at the moment."
Huo Tingshan frowned. Yesterday’s report only mentioned her hiding in the clinic. He’d assumed she avoided the courier stations to evade his search.
"What’s wrong with your foot?" Without waiting for permission, he bent to lift her skirt.
Pei Ying stiffened slightly but didn’t resist.
If she claimed incapacity, evidence was necessary.
For easier bandaging—and believing no one would see—she hadn’t worn socks.
As the fabric lifted, Huo Tingshan was met with delicate bare feet, smaller than his palms, toes curling reflexively in alarm. The nails were smooth and pink with health.
He paused, then redirected his attention to her right ankle, wrapped in medicated cloth. It was noticeably swollen, twice the size of the left.
Only then did he realize the medicinal scent permeating the room came chiefly from here, not the herb chest nearby.
"Did jumping from the carriage cause this?"
Though phrased as a question, his tone was flat, unreadable.
Pei Ying was still weighing how to broach the events of that night when Huo Tingshan abruptly scooped her into his arms.
Her breath hitched. Instinctively, her fingers clutched his sleeve, feeling the corded muscle beneath the fabric as he held her effortlessly.
Huo Tingshan carried her out without hesitation. "The scoundrel who disrespected you is dead. From now on, garden patrols will be stationed, not rotating. You needn’t fear a repeat incident."
That night, the residence had hosted a banquet. With key figures gathered in the main hall—and ample wine flowing—security there was airtight, guards posted every five paces.
Most remaining forces were concentrated near important areas like study halls. Ornamental spaces like gardens only had mobile patrols.
Huo Tingshan never imagined Tan Jin would be so brazen—nor that the man would coincidentally encounter a delayed patrolman answering nature’s call.
The odds were absurd.
So absurd that after piecing together Pei Ying’s disappearance, he could only conclude: Heaven itself wished Tan Jin dead.
Pei Ying’s eyes widened. "You killed him?"
That man had been a chief commander—a high-ranking wartime official. And Huo Tingshan just… executed him?
Worse, Tan Jin was another province’s commander. Didn’t he fear retaliation from Yanzhou?
Huo Tingshan glanced down, amusement glinting in his gaze. "If that’s not enough, I can round up his sons next time. Whether you prefer them dead or dismembered, it’s your choice."
Pei Ying choked. "The culprit alone should pay. There’s no need to go that far."
When Huo Tingshan carried Pei Ying out of the clinic, Old Xinglin was still staring at the copper coins on the table, unsure whether to take them. Seeing Huo Tingshan emerge with the beautiful lady who had sprained her ankle in his arms, the old physician’s eyes widened further. "This…"
"Don’t trouble yourself further, just take your payment," Qin Yang said, turning to leave, but Old Xinglin called him back.
Qin Yang turned. "Something else?"
The physician went to fetch medicine. "The lady’s sprain hasn’t fully healed yet. Take these herbs back—she must apply them for at least eight days before she can walk properly again."
Qin Yang was handed a bundle of medicine. As soon as he steadied it, another package was thrust into his hands.
Old Xinglin added, "This is for the little maid. Her internal injuries require careful treatment, or they’ll leave lasting damage. Boil five bowls of water down to one, twice a day."
Qin Yang nodded. "My thanks, Physician."
Old Xinglin stroked his beard. "Payment received, service rendered. No need for gratitude."
The physician’s clinic was tucked away in a narrow alley where carriages couldn’t enter, so the carriage waited at the mouth of the lane.
As Huo Tingshan carried Pei Ying through the alley, she had been stiff inside the clinic, but now, out in the open, she grew even more uneasy. Her grip on his arm loosened and tightened uncertainly.
"General, perhaps I can walk on my own," Pei Ying murmured.
Huo Tingshan scoffed. "Walk? By the time Tan Jin’s grave sprouts grass three feet high, you’d still be hobbling through this alley."
Pei Ying: "…"
Why did this man have to open his mouth?
Back in the carriage, Huo Tingshan settled her onto the cushioned seat before glancing at Qin Yang. Seeing him laden with multiple bundles of medicine—far more than one person should need—he frowned. "So much medicine? Was that physician swindling us with unnecessary prescriptions?"
Medicine was inherently harsh; overuse did no good.
"General, not all of it is for the lady. Some is for the little maid," Qin Yang lifted the bundle in his left hand.
Huo Tingshan said nothing more.
The carriage rolled back toward the governor’s estate.
Huo Tingshan didn’t ride his horse this time, staying inside the carriage with Pei Ying.
The wheels clattered over the city’s brick roads, and the lively noise of the marketplace seeped through the curtains—children laughing, vendors hawking their wares.
The city bustled as usual, vibrant and crowded, as if the desolation she’d seen after leaping from the carriage that night had been an illusion, as if the panic Xin Jin had described had never existed.
Then, a sharp voice cut through the noise:
"You think crying’ll save you? Your grandfather sold you to me for two taels. You’re my slave now—I’ll do as I please. Beat you? Kill you? A bit of silver’s all it takes to settle things."
SMACK!
A loud slap rang out.
Then a thud—a head hitting the ground hard.
The crying grew louder.
"Useless brat! If you don’t serve me better, I’ll sell you to the butcher in the west. That old man loves carving up little slaves."
Pei Ying couldn’t help but lift the curtain, catching only a glimpse of a figure being dragged away.
The person wore straw sandals, one shoe missing. They were hauled sideways—by the hair or collar—into an alley, leaving a faint trail of blood on the ground.
The crowd flowed past, laughing, shouting, indifferent. No one intervened, as if no one had seen the violence.
The carriage moved on, leaving the alley behind.
Pei Ying’s lips trembled. Her heart pounded so fiercely it threatened to burst. Her fingers clenched the armrest until her knuckles turned white.
She realized, with painful clarity, the chasms between classes in this feudal era.
A slave’s life was as disposable as livestock, their deaths bought with coin. Commoners were ants beneath the boots of the powerful, their fates reshaped by a noble’s whim.
Even the law bent for the privileged.
The prince who breaks the law faces the same punishment as the commoner—more often than not, an empty promise.
In this world, without allies, could she and her daughter truly escape Guangping Commandery? Even if they hired guards, what if bandits attacked? Or worse, what if the guards turned on them? Would they ever reach Chang’an safely?
For the first time, doubt gnawed at her.
A hand closed over hers, pulling her from her thoughts. She blinked, realizing Huo Tingshan had moved beside her.
With practiced ease, he pried her fingers from the armrest, smoothing out her palm and brushing over the reddened joints. "What weighs so heavily on your mind that you didn’t hear me calling?"
"Nothing," Pei Ying curled her fingers slightly.
His grip was loose, her fingertips barely grazing his rough palm before retreating.
Huo Tingshan leaned back, more at ease now. "Why didn’t you send your maid to the governor’s estate yesterday?"
She wasn’t surprised by the question—he still suspected she’d flee. "I didn’t know if that man was waiting for me to walk into his trap."
"You know it was the Youzhou army that took Guangping. Tan Jin was just a guest—an unruly one, easily expelled." His gaze darkened.
And expelled he had been—straight to the underworld.
Pei Ying stayed silent.
He was a warlord with ambitions; she was a commoner. Their worlds didn’t overlap.
"You’re troubled," Huo Tingshan observed.
Her eyes flickered away. "I’m not."
The carriage soon arrived at the governor’s estate, entering through the side gate nearest the Youzhou courtyard.
As before, once the carriage halted, Huo Tingshan lifted Pei Ying and carried her toward her room, Qin Yang trailing behind with the medicine.
It was noon, the sunlight bright, the courtyard alive with patrolling soldiers and idle strollers.
Huo Tingshan strode through untouched by their gazes, but Pei Ying burned with embarrassment, her ears flushing pink, her grip on his sleeve tightening reflexively.
"You’ll need to grow accustomed to this, my shy lady," he teased.
Sha Ying, one of the idle strollers, shot Qin Yang a questioning look. The latter raised the medicine bundles in response.
Sha Ying rubbed his chin.
A reasonable explanation—yet something felt off.
Back in her room, once Huo Tingshan set her down, Pei Ying spoke softly, "General, I’d like to propose a trade."
His brow arched as he settled beside her.
Their first trade had won the Youzhou army improved saddles and stirrups. The second…
Well, strictly speaking, this was the second.
"What can you offer me, Madam, and what do you desire in return?" Huo Tingshan asked leisurely.
Pei Ying met his gaze steadily. "I imagine the General is surrounded by many learned men—some erudite, others brimming with wisdom. What I ask is for you to enlist the finest scholars to tutor my daughter, to teach her discernment, literature, astronomy, mathematics, and craftsmanship."
In this era, there were no schools for women. Knowledge was entirely monopolized by men. At home, young ladies were limited to embroidery or, at best, a few artistic skills. Uneducated, they lived their lives first under their fathers' authority, then their husbands', confined to the inner courtyards forever.
Many women drifted through life in a daze, never truly understanding the world before they died.
This was an invisible prison of the mind. Pei Ying couldn’t change the fate of others, but she refused to let Meng Ling'er suffer the same.
Huo Tingshan was silent for a moment before nodding. "Agreed."
Scholars were notoriously proud. They would likely refuse to take Meng Ling'er as a student, but every man had his weaknesses—it would just require more effort.
Pei Ying continued, "Secondly, my daughter’s marriage is not to be interfered with by you in any way."
In ancient times, girls were considered marriageable at fifteen. But the thought of a fifteen-year-old bearing children made Pei Ying’s scalp crawl.
Now that she and her daughter were under Huo Tingshan’s command in the Youzhou army, his word was law.
She had seen dramas where lords, in a fit of generosity, would gift their sisters, daughters, or maids to subordinates—regardless of age—to strengthen bonds. A fifty-year-old general might receive a twenty-year-old bride, all in the name of camaraderie.
A joyous occasion for the men, but a world of suffering for the young woman forced into it.
Those scenes had left Pei Ying seething. She would never allow Meng Ling'er to be traded as a political favor.
Huo Tingshan agreed swiftly this time. "I have no need to profit from a child. Your daughter’s marriage is yours to decide."
Then, with a cryptic tone, he added, "Some say a parent’s love is shown through long-term planning. Others say love extends to all connected to the beloved. I wonder which kind you are, Madam."
Pei Ying froze, taking a moment to realize his mention of "love extending" referred to her late husband, Meng Ducang.
She said nothing.
The curve of Huo Tingshan’s lips cooled. "Do you have a third condition, Madam?"
"I do." Pei Ying nodded.
"Perhaps you could first tell me how many more concern your daughter, so I may prepare myself," Huo Tingshan remarked, tapping his fingers idly on the table.
Pei Ying flushed slightly. "Only one remains regarding her—a matter of safety. I ask that you ensure her protection."
"That’s simple enough. I agree." Huo Tingshan’s sharp eyes glinted. "Now that we’ve settled your daughter’s terms, does the rest pertain to you?"
"Indeed." Pei Ying forced herself to meet his fathomless gaze. "I have no intention of becoming your woman, General. I ask for your understanding."
He had agreed readily to the first two requests, but at this final one, his silence stretched longer than even when she had asked for scholars for Meng Ling'er.
His dark eyes churned like a stormy sea, waves rising and falling as if to swallow her whole.
Pei Ying couldn’t hold his gaze and eventually lowered her eyes.
An eternity seemed to pass before he spoke. "I understand your terms. Now, I wish to know what you can offer me in return."
Pei Ying straightened. "Wealth. A never-ending stream of silver."
Huo Tingshan’s fingers tapped twice rapidly on the table—uncharacteristically revealing his thoughts. Clearly, his earlier claim in the carriage about needing funds hadn’t been a lie.
Pei Ying smiled faintly at his reaction. "Military provisions and equipment are costly. An inexhaustible fortune versus one mere woman—surely the General knows which holds more weight."
Her smile was dazzling, her almond eyes bright like polished gemstones, the curve of her brows unusually playful compared to her usual gentleness.
It was the first time she had smiled so freely at him.
Huo Tingshan closed his eyes, unwilling to look longer. "If you can deliver, I accept your terms."
"Then it’s settled." Pei Ying relaxed. "Give me a few days, General. Once everything is ready, I’ll have Xin Jin summon you."
Huo Tingshan acknowledged with a sound before rising. "Rest well, Madam."
Study.
"General, the power struggle in Yanzhou has clarified. Two figures now dominate—Zhang Tishou, formerly Tan Jin’s right-hand man. He’s blunt and straightforward, and many Yanzhou officers favor him after Tan Jin’s death." Qin Yang stood before the desk, reporting the gathered intelligence.
Huo Tingshan listened impassively.
Qin Yang continued, "The other is Hu Lan—a silver-tongued and slippery man. Though only a captain in Yanzhou’s army, his connections in both Yanzhou and Chang’an are formidable, earning him a faction of followers. However, he’s currently losing ground against Zhang Tishou."
Huo Tingshan scoffed. "A man who rises through connections alone? The Yanzhou army has fallen far."
"General, Hu Lan approached me this morning, secretly requesting your support. What should I reply?"
Yanzhou’s forces were now split—between pure military men and political climbers. Having served Huo Tingshan for years, Qin Yang had a sense of his preferences.
Between the two factions, he suspected the General would choose Hu Lan’s side.
Sure enough, Huo Tingshan said, "Inform Hu Lan that I agree. He has my full backing."
Hu Lan was inferior to Zhang Tishou in warfare, excelling only in networking. In the Youzhou army, Huo Tingshan would never let such a man lead troops—only delegate him to diplomacy.
But if another province’s leadership was filled with such mediocrities, all the better. The chaos would make it easier to swallow Yanzhou whole.
Murky waters were best for fishing.
Qin Yang accepted the order and left to relay the message to Hu Lan.
He returned at dusk, two lavishly dressed women trailing behind him.
Huo Tingshan was in the main hall with Gongsun Liang and others when Qin Yang entered with the pair in tow.
"General, a gift from Captain Hu," Qin Yang announced.
Since departing Youzhou, the General had been abstinent. There was the stunning Madam Pei, of course, but she was strictly off-limits.
Qin Yang had to admit—Hu Lan knew how to curry favor. These two dancers were beautiful enough to please even the General.
Many in the room shared the thought.
The women, experienced in such matters, quickly identified Huo Tingshan among the men like Chen Yuan.
The man had yet to reach his forties, with a handsome and well-defined face, his deep-set eyes reminiscent of a fierce tiger lurking in the forest, exuding an aura of danger.
The dancing girls had arrived with nervous anticipation, only for their unease to melt into joy—until the man seated at the head of the room spoke: "Is Hu Lan trying to insult me?"
Everyone froze in shock.
Qin Yang was alarmed. "Great General, what do you mean?"
Huo Tingshan's sharp gaze swept over the two dancers.
Their skin wasn’t fair enough, their hair not thick enough, their figures lacking grace, their height falling short, and their eyes brimming with sycophancy—to say nothing of their faces.
Sending such mediocre beauties to appease him—was this not an outright insult?
Huo Tingshan rose to his feet and strode out coldly, leaving the crowd exchanging bewildered glances.
Gongsun Liang stroked his beard, sensing the underlying tension. "Troublesome. Very troublesome."
