It was autumn, yet the dancers seemed impervious to the cold. Clad in sheer gauze and adorned with jade bracelets, their sleeves fluttered with an indescribable grace and allure.
Barefoot, they stepped in time with the drumbeats, their slender waists swaying as they moved, their sleeves twirling and their postures bending, revealing skin so fair it seemed to ripple like water—utterly mesmerizing.
Pei Ying had never seen ancient dances before. The dancers were all light as swallows, their movements effortless, and from her vantage point, the view was impeccable. With every turn, they cast flirtatious glances toward the head of the hall.
The atmosphere was electric.
Pei Ying watched the performance intently, her eating slowing, then nearly stopping altogether.
Huo Tingshan glanced at her sideways. Seeing the beauty beside him had even set down her chopsticks, he rapped his knuckles twice against the table.
Pei Ying didn’t react.
But the local magnates below, ever watchful of Huo Tingshan’s every move, were instantly unsettled by the sound.
What did this mean?
Was he displeased? Should they dismiss the dancers?
Qiu Botong broke into a cold sweat again, dabbing his forehead with his sleeve as he debated how to discreetly usher the dancers away. Yet interrupting so abruptly would be awkward—risking an outright blunder.
Having shared a bed with him for years, Madam Qiu sensed her husband’s thoughts and whispered, "Husband, don’t rush."
"How can I not?" Qiu Botong fretted. If the esteemed guest left this banquet unsatisfied, the Qiu family would lose face in his eyes.
Madam Qiu said, "From what I see, his expression doesn’t suggest dissatisfaction with our family."
"Then what is it?" Qiu Botong pressed.
Madam Qiu hesitated, unsure how to explain.
She was from the Li family, which held influence in Yuanshan County. Her marriage to Qiu Botong had been arranged—they’d met only once before their wedding.
At first, there had been no love between them, merely obedience to their parents’ will. But over years of companionship, affection had grown, and she’d come to understand the complexities of romance she’d once read about in storybooks.
Huo Tingshan, it seemed, disliked his companion being so engrossed in the dancers that she neglected both her meal and—perhaps more importantly—him.
But her husband wouldn’t grasp this. How could she explain?
In the end, Madam Qiu simply said, "Trust me. Let this dance finish. He’ll likely speak up himself afterward."
Qiu Botong was skeptical but ultimately deferred to his wife’s judgment.
Huo Tingshan studied Pei Ying’s profile. Moments passed, yet her long lashes didn’t so much as flicker.
She hadn’t even blinked.
What was so captivating about this wretched dance? Just sleeves flapping about.
He rapped the table again, this time with more force.
Pei Ying hadn’t noticed the first time, but now she did.
She turned to him, puzzled. "General, is something the matter?"
Huo Tingshan’s expression was icy.
She had the nerve to ask? He’d brought her here to dine, yet she’d abandoned the feast for this spectacle.
When he remained silent, Pei Ying considered his perspective and had an epiphany.
Did he want a dish from her side of the table?
That must be it—he couldn’t reach it, so he’d signaled her.
Feeling guilty, she said, "My apologies, General. I wasn’t paying attention. What would you like? I’ll pass it to you."
Huo Tingshan paused, then uttered two words: "Braised duck."
Pei Ying reached for the silver platter of duck on her other side and moved to place it before him—only for him to say, "Just leave it in the middle."
She complied.
Huo Tingshan’s expression softened slightly.
Good. At least she’d thought to ask if he wanted anything. This outing hadn’t been a complete waste.
The dance ended. The dancers’ sleeves billowed like waves before settling, the sheer gauze brushing against their delicate, beautiful faces—a vision of perfection.
Originally, three dances had been planned. As the lead dancer prepared to begin the second—
"Dismiss the dancers." A deep, unreadable voice came from the head of the hall.
The lead dancer paled, fearing she’d erred.
But Qiu Botong was stunned—his wife’s prediction had come true. Not daring to delay, he hastily signaled the tearful dancers to withdraw.
With them gone, the hall felt emptier, the air lingering with only traces of sweet perfume.
Pei Ying was disappointed.
She’d only seen one performance—hardly enough. But since she wasn’t the guest of honor, she couldn’t protest the host’s preferences.
Now the local magnates resumed toasting Huo Tingshan.
"Great General, I don’t exaggerate—Yuanshan County is truly a treasure," Xiao Xiong said, swirling his wine cup. "With its clear waters, the Hong River to the side, the Zhuxia Peak at its back, and vast fertile fields, it’s a land blessed by nature."
Hua Jinzhong chimed in, "Indeed! If the General has leisure, we’d be honored if you stayed longer to appreciate its beauty."
Everyone knew Huo Tingshan, as Governor of Youzhou, couldn’t remain in Ji Province indefinitely.
The invitation was mere courtesy.
But then—
"Since you’re all so insistent, I’ll postpone my departure next month." Huo Tingshan lifted his cup.
The magnates froze.
Today was the 20th. Early next month was barely ten days away. This titan had planned to leave so soon?
Had they just talked him into staying longer?
Panic set in, but none dared ask outright when he’d go—that would be offensive.
As the wine flowed, some of the less sober guests struggled to mask their dismay, their expressions betraying their thoughts.
Huo Tingshan observed them all, lips curving.
These old foxes were desperate for him to leave. And he would—but not before breaking a few of their bones.
The officials’ conversations were like shadowboxing—words layered with hidden meanings. Pei Ying listened occasionally but found most of it empty flattery. Even the rare substantive remarks were veiled in ambiguity.
Boring. The food was far more appealing.
She resumed eating.
The table was laden with delicacies—each dish modest in portion but extravagant in variety.
When something caught her eye but was out of reach, she didn’t hesitate to ask Huo Tingshan. Better that than endure another remark about her "mouth being only for eating."
Mid-conversation, the man wordlessly rearranged the dishes, then seamlessly returned to his verbal sparring with the magnates.
Eventually, Pei Ying set down her chopsticks and sipped her tea.
When she didn’t pick them up again, Huo Tingshan asked, "Finished?"
She nodded.
Not just finished—she was pleasantly stuffed, having sampled nearly everything that intrigued her.
"How much longer will you all be talking?" she asked.
Huo Tingshan had long set down his jade chopsticks. Now holding a wine cup in one hand and resting the other on the low table, he tapped his fingers idly against the wooden surface at Pei Ying’s words. "Does my lady wish to return home?"
Pei Ying replied softly, "Not exactly. I just thought to take a stroll to aid digestion."
"Then go. It’s not as though I’ve bound you with a hair ribbon this time," Huo Tingshan said, amusement glinting in his eyes.
Pei Ying couldn’t help but glare at him.
What nonsense was this man spouting?
After shooting him a look, she rose on her own and summoned a nearby maid under the pretense of needing to freshen up.
As the host of the banquet, Qiu Botong naturally occupied the seat closest to Huo Tingshan at the lower end of the hall. Like many others, he kept a watchful eye on the proceedings above. When he saw Pei Ying glare at Huo Tingshan, his hand holding the wine cup trembled uncontrollably.
A few drops of clear liquor spilled, dampening his fingers and a small patch of the table, but Qiu Botong seemed oblivious.
"Madam, did that lady just glare at Governor Huo?" he asked Madam Qiu in a daze, seeking confirmation.
Madam Qiu had just instructed a servant to refill the wine jug and missed the moment. "What did you say, my lord?"
Qiu Botong murmured, "Since you didn’t see it either, I must have been mistaken."
Convinced he had imagined it, Qiu Botong dismissed the thought. But Hua Jinzhong, Xiao Xiong, and others seated nearby had seen it clearly. Shock rippled through them, followed by a surge of regret.
Had they known Governor Huo would bring a female companion to the banquet, they would have brought their own wives to socialize with her—perhaps that would have yielded better results.
Instead, they had downed countless cups of wine, nearly to the point of intoxication, yet gleaned nothing useful...
Meanwhile, Pei Ying left the main hall and told the maid she no longer needed to freshen up but wished to stroll instead.
The maid attending Huo Tingshan’s table was originally one of Madam Qiu’s most quick-witted servants. Without missing a beat, she suggested the garden and led Pei Ying there, discreetly signaling another maid to follow behind.
The trailing maid soon retreated.
Back in the main hall, once Madam Qiu confirmed Pei Ying’s departure, her eyes gleamed. She excused herself first, then had a maid summon her sisters-in-law.
Soon, all the Qiu wives had left the hall.
"Let’s take a walk in the rear garden," Madam Qiu suggested to her sisters-in-law.
Second Madam Qiu’s eyes flickered. "Sister-in-law, is that lady in the rear garden?"
Madam Qiu didn’t deny it.
Second Madam Qiu pressed her lips into a smile. "In that case, let’s hurry. It would be wonderful to make her acquaintance. If we can win her favor, perhaps she might whisper a word in Governor Huo’s ear and benefit the Qiu family in the future."
Third Madam Qiu shot a pointed glance at Ming Lianxin. "Will Fourth Sister-in-law join us? Not that there’s any issue, but you’d best sweeten your tongue—lest you clam up and embarrass us."
Madam Qiu frowned.
Her third sister-in-law had a habit of bullying the meek. As the elder, she often lorded over the fourth wife.
Normally, Madam Qiu would ignore such behavior, but today was different.
"Enough," Madam Qiu said sternly. "We are family. There’s no need for veiled barbs. If you let such words slip in front of our distinguished guest and shame the Qiu name, don’t expect me to cover for you before our husbands."
Third Madam Qiu immediately fell silent.
Pei Ying wandered the rear garden.
The Qiu family’s garden paled in comparison to the lavish displays in Changping County or the Governor’s residence—especially after Huo Tingshan had transplanted rare blooms from Changping and redesigned the layout.
But since the purpose was digestion rather than sightseeing, Pei Ying strolled leisurely.
"My lady."
At first, Pei Ying didn’t realize the address was meant for her—until footsteps approached.
"My lady."
This time, she turned and saw several familiar faces, including Ming Lianxin. The other three women had been seated with their husbands at the banquet—likely the Qiu wives.
Madam Qiu led her sisters-in-law in a curtsy.
Pei Ying returned the gesture.
Madam Qiu introduced herself and her sisters-in-law, then said warmly, "With so many guests tonight, I fear our hospitality may have been lacking. Please forgive any oversights."
Pei Ying shook her head. "You flatter me, Madam Qiu. Your household has been most gracious."
Madam Qiu’s heart leaped with joy.
This lady seemed gentle and approachable.
Seizing the opportunity, Second and Third Madam Qiu swiftly joined in, showering Pei Ying with compliments—her beauty, her hair ornaments, even her gown.
"A goddess like yourself—had you come to Yuanshan County sooner, you’d have surely claimed the title of its foremost beauty."
"Indeed! When I first saw you today, I nearly forgot myself. They say Consort Li’s beauty could topple cities. Though I’ve never seen her, I daresay you rival her."
Surrounded by their effusive praise, Pei Ying’s smile grew strained.
She wasn’t one for instant familiarity. This being her first meeting with the Qiu wives, their fervent flattery overwhelmed her.
Moreover, she understood their motives—they sought to curry favor through her, hoping she could influence Huo Tingshan for their husbands’ and the Qiu family’s benefit.
Pei Ying thought wryly that their presence together at the banquet must have given them the wrong impression. But they overestimated her—she held no sway over Huo Tingshan.
If anything, she was living under his roof. Were it not for that, she wouldn’t have accompanied him tonight.
Her gaze drifted to Ming Lianxin, who stood apart from the others. Meeting Pei Ying’s eyes, Ming Lianxin offered an apologetic, helpless smile.
Pei Ying cleared her throat. "Fourth Madam Qiu, where is Banxia?"
Ming Lianxin froze.
The question instantly redirected the Qiu wives’ attention.
Madam Qiu’s eyes lit up. "Ah! So you know our Banxia? Fourth Sister-in-law, why didn’t you mention this sooner?"
Third Madam Qiu’s expression shifted several times, but she bit back whatever she meant to say.
Now the center of attention, Ming Lianxin stammered, "We only met Lady Pei the day before yesterday."
Madam Qiu inwardly cheered.
So they were acquainted—she even knew Pei Ying’s surname!
The once-overlooked Ming Lianxin was promptly pulled into the circle.
Pei Ying and Ming Lianxin chatted idly, while the other three finally stopped their incessant talking upon noticing.
Not long after, Qiu Banxia was brought over as well.
The young girl had already been informed that distinguished guests had arrived at the residence, and that she had met one of them before. Now, she properly curtsied to Pei Ying: "Greetings, Madam Pei."
Pei Ying smiled. "No need for formalities."
Qiu Banxia straightened up and asked earnestly, "Madam Pei, is Ling'er free lately? She mentioned wanting to practice archery with me the other day. I'd like to visit her when she has time."
Her daughter wouldn't be free until at least the next day off. Pei Ying didn't specify a date but said, "She's been busy with her studies lately. I'll pass on your message and have her send someone to inform you herself."
Madam Qiu and the others listened in astonishment.
Qiu Banxia happily agreed. "Thank you, Madam Pei."
Perhaps because of Qiu Banxia's presence, Madam Qiu and the others toned down their flattery. After strolling in the garden to aid digestion, Pei Ying returned to the main hall.
With the feast concluded, neither the intended nor unintended topics had been broached, leaving the frustrated elites to glare helplessly at the departing carriage.
They had gone to great lengths to invite her, yet gleaned nothing of value.
"Husband," Madam Qiu called to her spouse, who was among those left scowling. "I have something to discuss with you."
Qiu Botong was indifferent. "What is it?"
Madam Qiu had no choice but to whisper a few words into his ear.
Qiu Botong's expression changed dramatically. "Is this true?"
"Why would I lie?" Madam Qiu chided.
Qiu Botong's mind raced, already forming a decision, though his face betrayed nothing. After seeing off the guests, he summoned Ming Lianxin to the main hall.
Nearly all the Qiu family members were present.
What followed was an interrogation of sorts. Ming Lianxin held nothing back, recounting the events of that day in detail. Finally, she said, "When we first met, she didn't mention living in the Governor's residence. Our acquaintance was casual—it was Banxia who got along better with her daughter."
Madam Qiu pressed, "Sister-in-law, are you certain you heard correctly when the girl said she was releasing a river lantern for her father?"
Ming Lianxin nodded in confirmation.
The room buzzed with unspoken thoughts.
So the lady had a deceased husband, and her daughter was being tutored by scholars. If she were merely a favored concubine, how could she receive such treatment?
"Could it be that we were mistaken? Perhaps she isn't Governor Huo's concubine but his cousin," suggested Third Master Qiu.
"Quite possible," Second Master Qiu agreed, then sighed. "Ah, but Governor Huo never clarified."
Qiu Botong shot his younger brother a sharp look. "What status do you hold that he owes you an explanation?"
The man wielded military power—arrogance came naturally to him.
Even if the lady had taken the ornamental hairpins from their hats to play pitch-pot, they would likely have applauded her skill and offered more as tribute.
Second Master Qiu fell silent.
Qiu Botong concluded, "She must be a cousin. When Governor Huo came to Jizhou, he likely discovered his widowed cousin and brought her under his care."
It was logical and reasonable. The Qiu family nodded in agreement.
That must be the case.
After the midday banquet, Pei Ying and Huo Tingshan returned to the Governor's residence by carriage.
The wheels clattered over the cobblestones as they rolled forward. Pei Ying lifted the curtain to look outside—it was still early afternoon, and the city bustled with activity.
"How about we delay our return and stroll through the city instead? What do you think, Madam?" Huo Tingshan suddenly suggested.
Pei Ying perked up. "Very well."
Last time, their outing coincided with the Ghost Festival. She and her daughter had gone straight to White Colt Temple, then spent much of their time at a teahouse with Madam Qiu and her daughter. They had only truly explored the market as dusk fell.
And after nightfall? Well, she had been whisked back by this man right after releasing the river lantern.
So she hadn't had her fill of Yuanshan County yet.
The carriage stopped. Huo Tingshan stepped down first, then helped Pei Ying alight.
Pei Ying wandered the streets, looking here and there. With no hurry, she took slow steps, pausing to watch street performers and even tossing a few coins from her purse into their collection boxes.
Huo Tingshan glanced at her occasionally.
What was so fascinating about these cheap tricks? Yet she watched, enthralled, and even rewarded them.
Too easily impressed.
"Clang—!"
A gong sounded ahead.
Pei Ying quickened her pace, while Huo Tingshan followed leisurely.
A large wooden frame stood ahead, with hemp paper nailed to it. A man holding a copper gong stood before it.
By the time Pei Ying arrived, many commoners had already gathered around the frame in a loose circle.
Strangely, as she approached, the crowd parted like the Red Sea, their faces tinged with unease.
Pei Ying glanced back at Huo Tingshan. His expression was impassive, but his calm eyes held a hawk-like sharpness—intimidating to behold.
Pei Ying: "..."
She walked unimpeded to the front.
The man struck the gong twice more, then turned to the frame and began reading the contents of the hemp paper aloud.
After listening awhile, Pei Ying realized this was an announcement about crop changes.
To disseminate such policies to every household, officials had to post notices and have them read aloud repeatedly.
Many commoners were illiterate, making posted notices ineffective alone.
The method reminded Pei Ying of government gazettes.
Gazettes, also called court bulletins, were said to have originated in the Han Dynasty when commanderies and principalities maintained lodges in the capital for reporting news.
In essence, they circulated official announcements—an early form of newspapers.
Once the man finished several repetitions, murmurs rose among the crowd.
They discussed the wheat matter.
"Is it true? Buying wheat seeds from the government offices is half the usual price?"
"If it's posted, it must be real."
"What are those officials thinking? Losing money so we can farm? Strange things happen every year, but this takes the cake. Have they all gone mad with fever?"
"Ha! Who cares why? If it sounds good, let's try it."
"Can anything that good be real? The heavens don't drop free pies—could this be a scam?"
"Who knows?"
Pei Ying's delicate brows furrowed.
As the crowd dispersed, Huo Tingshan asked, "Madam, not leaving?"
Pei Ying turned from the notice to him. "General, they doubt your decree so openly. Does it not anger you?"
Promoting wheat cultivation required initial subsidies—otherwise, no commoner would willingly go through the trouble.
Though much of the silver came from the nobles of Chang'an purchasing soap, once it had passed through his own coffers, parting with it again inevitably stung.
Spending his own money for the people’s sake, yet the common folk remained skeptical, some even harboring malicious suspicions.
Huo Tingshan brushed it off. "Why get upset over such trifles? If I let every little thing bother me, I’d have been reincarnated several times by now."
Pei Ying said solemnly, "General, at its core, this issue stems from the people’s distrust of the authorities—their lack of faith in you as the new ruler of Jizhou. That’s why they question your policies. Even if they comply, it’s grudgingly, not out of genuine support."
In simpler terms: Huo Tingshan’s reputation wasn’t strong enough, hence the earlier scene.
Huo Tingshan’s brow twitched.
He distinctly remembered that bear hearts and leopard gallbladders hadn’t been served at today’s luncheon—yet here she was, speaking as boldly as if they had.
Pei Ying continued, "Truthfully, since taking over Jizhou, you haven’t been idle. It’s just that sometimes you overlook other avenues of influence."
Take the disaster relief in Changping Commandery, for instance. Though his swift deployment had been partly due to her, after finding Nannan, he could have easily abandoned the local victims. Yet he had ordered his men to rescue them at all costs.
How widely known was the Youzhou army’s rapid relief effort?
Widely—but only within Changping.
Communication in ancient times was painfully slow. Eight-hundred-li express couriers exhausted precious horses, a luxury only the imperial family could afford during wartime.
A homesick traveler might write to his mother, pleading for a local remedy to cure his grave illness—only for the letter to arrive long after his grave had grown over with grass.
This lack of information flow kept the people’s perceptions stagnant.
Subconsciously, they might assume this new ruler was no different from the last—or even project the former’s misdeeds onto his successor.
Pei Ying met Huo Tingshan’s gaze. "Have you considered utilizing the government gazette more effectively? Beyond official decrees, it could report other matters—set up in marketplaces, teahouses, and eateries, detailing every deed, great or small, that you’ve done for Jizhou’s people. Have it read aloud. Not just to tout your achievements, but to give them a sense of involvement—to make them feel it matters who governs Jizhou."
Most commoners cared only for their own households, their own small lives.
Who sat on the throne, who governed the province—none of it mattered.
Why?
Because they felt no stake in it, no collective pride to speak of.
Widespread distribution of the gazette would subtly shape their thinking, fostering a sense of belonging to Jizhou and genuine reverence for Huo Tingshan—a ruler whose tangible deeds proved his worth. No longer would they remain indifferent to who held power.
That accumulated goodwill would be true public support.
Pei Ying saw stormy waves in his eyes, glimpsed the first light of dawn—but in mere moments, those narrow orbs darkened into unfathomable depths.
"My lady speaks wisely," the man said, his Adam’s apple bobbing. "Tonight, I wish to discuss this further with you—by candlelight, sharing a bed."
Pei Ying froze, her mind blank except for one thought:
Damn it. The dog bites Lü Dongbin—no gratitude for kindness.
He repays good with evil.
