Pei Ying led Huo Tingshan to the adjacent private room. She walked ahead, entering first and standing to the side, waiting for him to step in before closing the door behind them.
Huo Tingshan noticed her movement but remained expressionless, offering no comment.
As Pei Ying turned after shutting the door, she unexpectedly collided with Huo Tingshan’s chest. The man had entered but hadn’t moved further inside or taken a seat, leaving her to bump squarely into him.
Her nose struck his collarbone—such a delicate part of her face couldn’t withstand the impact, and the sharp pain immediately brought tears to her eyes.
Seeing her stumble into his arms of her own accord, Huo Tingshan saw no reason to refuse. He wrapped an arm around her waist, only to notice her clutching her nose, her eyes quickly reddening.
His brows furrowed. "Why aren’t you watching where you’re going? Move your hand—let me see."
Pei Ying’s heart had been racing earlier, fearing he might unsheathe his blade and cut down her elder brother and his friend without a second thought. She’d barely managed to guide him to this separate room, allowing herself a sliver of relief—only for him to blame her for not looking where she was going.
It was him who had been blocking the way, yet he had the audacity to turn it around on her.
The frustration and panic simmering inside her flared into a small flame of anger. "It was you standing here that made me bump into you," she retorted.
Huo Tingshan smirked coldly. "Madam’s eyes seem particularly unobservant today. Have you developed an ailment? After this meal, I’ll summon a physician to examine you."
She’d failed to notice him standing right there, yet she’d instantly recognized that pretty-faced scholar earlier. What, did she only have eyes for fair-skinned men and not him?
The flame in Pei Ying’s chest burned hotter. In other aspects, he was tolerable—but he simply had to open his mouth. Her nose still ached from the collision, and now his sarcastic remarks made her eyes redden further.
Purely out of irritation.
Huo Tingshan paused, then gently pulled her hand away from her nose, brushing his fingers over it. "It’s fine. Your nose isn’t broken."
His calloused fingertips scraped against her skin with a rough texture, snapping her out of her swirling emotions.
Arguing with him was pointless—at least not now.
She tried to push away the iron band of his arm around her waist, but the first attempt failed. Softly, she said, "General, let’s move over there and talk properly."
Huo Tingshan’s gaze lingered on her eyes—still tinged with red, her lashes thick and distinct but not damp with tears. He gave a noncommittal hum and released her.
The room had a low table set with snacks and teacups, remnants of Sha Ying’s earlier visit. A brazier beside it still glowed with embers.
Assuming he had little interest in idle refreshments, Pei Ying took a fresh teacup, rinsed it with hot water, and began brewing tea anew.
As she worked, her mind settled completely.
The elegant woman lifted her eyes to the man across from her and spoke gently, "General, today my daughter and I happened to meet my elder brother at the dye shop. Since my family moved away for business, I haven’t seen them in years. Running into kin unexpectedly in a foreign place left me with so much to say—so we found this teahouse to catch up."
Huo Tingshan noted her phrasing—"my family" rather than "my maternal family"—and some of the coldness in his demeanor eased. Still, his face remained impassive. "Were both men in that room your elder brother?"
Pei Ying knew he was baiting her but had no choice. "No. One was my brother, the other his friend."
Sure enough, he sneered. "If it was a family reunion, what business did an outsider have there? Or perhaps your brother found him so rosy-cheeked and charming—so much like you—that he invited him to become sworn siblings?"
Pei Ying: "..."
Not a single word from this man’s mouth was worth listening to.
She took a deep breath, willing herself to stay calm. "My brother simply wanted his friend to join in sharing stories of his merchant travels over the years."
Huo Tingshan scoffed. "Your brother didn’t strike me as a mute whose tongue was stolen by a cat. Couldn’t he speak for himself? Or does he consider his own tongue superfluous? If so, I’d be happy to assist."
The last sentence sent a chill down Pei Ying’s spine. Though he remained seated, the violence in his words was unmistakable—as if he might stride next door at any moment and cut out her brother’s tongue.
She clenched her fingers, realizing that dancing around the truth was futile.
He must have heard something to come here. If she kept evading, she might only provoke him further.
Honesty was the only path.
Her decision crystallized in an instant. Peering at him through the steam rising from the tea, the haze softened his intimidating aura slightly.
Pei Ying spoke plainly. "General, I won’t hide it. My brother learned that my husband passed away, leaving me a widow. Worried I’d be left with no support, he took it upon himself to play matchmaker and introduced me to Mr. Cheng."
Huo Tingshan’s gaze darkened.
In such a short time, she’d even learned the man’s surname. Still, at least she was being honest now, not spinning lies to deceive him.
"And what does Madam herself think?" Huo Tingshan asked, voice low.
Pei Ying answered earnestly, "I have no such intentions. My life as it is suits me fine, and I don’t wish to disrupt it. But my brother has a kind heart, and after so many years apart, I missed my family dearly. I couldn’t outright refuse his concern, so I planned to explain myself properly after meeting the man."
"Couldn’t refuse him, so you agreed to see that pretty-faced scholar?" Huo Tingshan’s expression turned stormy.
She couldn’t bear to disappoint her brother, yet she had no qualms making endless excuses to avoid him. These past two days, every time he asked her to dine, she’d conjured a new reason to decline—never repeating the same one.
Pei Ying pressed her lips together, unsure how to respond. She was here now, and Mr. Cheng was next door—of course they’d met.
This man truly suffered from an excess of words—if they weren’t cutting, they were pointless.
"Are you cursing me under your breath?" he suddenly asked.
Pei Ying startled. "No!"
Through the veil of steam, his features were blurred, but his piercing gaze remained sharp as a hawk’s, seeming to strip away all pretense.
She lowered her head, avoiding his eyes.
Huo Tingshan had long known she had a temper but couldn’t be bothered to argue. He cut to the chase. "Have you made yourself clear?"
It took Pei Ying a moment to realize his question—whether she had formally rejected Mr. Cheng.
His stare bore through the mist, sharp and unrelenting, as if dissecting her to the core.
When she didn’t answer, Huo Tingshan rapped his knuckles twice against the table. "Madam."
"I was going to speak with him, but you happened to arrive, so it was delayed for a moment," Pei Ying said softly.
Huo Tingshan scoffed in amusement. "So it's my fault for coming too early?"
Pei Ying: "...That’s not what I meant."
"Then what did the lady mean?" Huo Tingshan tapped his fingers idly on the table.
Pei Ying frowned slightly, the embers of irritation she had suppressed earlier flaring up again.
Even the meekest person has their limits. She had already explained herself, yet he was still being sarcastic. Her displeasure showed plainly now. "General, there’s no need for this. I am fully aware of our agreement—during its duration, I won’t involve myself with any other man."
In this era, men—especially those of high status—were regarded as superior by society.
Born into privilege, they were elevated, possessing more wealth, estates, servants, and concubines. The powerful treated these as their domains, marking them like dogs lifting a leg to claim territory. The moment they sensed someone else encroaching, their fury would erupt.
Pei Ying believed Huo Tingshan’s abrupt intrusion into the teahouse today was nothing more than a display of that male possessiveness—anger at his "territory" being trespassed upon.
Unaware of her thoughts, Huo Tingshan relaxed slightly upon hearing her words, his mood improving.
Good. She knew her place.
Fine, there was no need to make an issue of this. It was her tactless brother who had forced the situation, not her. As long as she had no interest, it didn’t matter.
But then, Pei Ying added, "Besides, in this world, I have no intention of remarrying in the future."
The man’s brows, which had just smoothed, tensed again. After a pause, he said, "This dynasty doesn’t encourage the chastity virtues of the past. Many widows remarry. If you meet a capable and suitable man, there’s no harm in taking that step."
Pei Ying merely replied, "We’ll see."
Huo Tingshan detected the dismissiveness in her tone. His expression darkened, returning to its earlier coldness.
Next door.
Pei Huizhou stared in stunned silence at the scene before him. Only after Pei Ying led Huo Tingshan away did he snap out of it.
He immediately tried to follow, but Meng Ling'er held him back. "Uncle, don’t go."
Pei Huizhou frowned. "Why not? Your mother and that brute went into the next room alone. A man and woman in private—this is improper!"
After Huo Tingshan kicked the door down, Pei Huizhou had firmly categorized him as a barbarian.
People said Youzhou bred savages. Pei Huizhou now believed it wholeheartedly.
Squad Leader Sha, standing at the doorway, heard the word "brute" loud and clear. He lowered his head, his gaze going blank.
The speaker was Pei Ying’s brother—surely it wouldn’t cause trouble. And even if it did, Lady Pei probably had ways to calm the general’s temper.
Best to pretend he hadn’t heard it.
"Uncle, nothing will happen," Meng Ling'er insisted, gripping his sleeve. "My mother... often dines with him, sometimes just the two of them."
Pei Huizhou paled. "This happens regularly? How lax is Youzhou’s military discipline? A general casually bringing a woman along, dining alone with her—such disregard for propriety! Does Huo Youzhou not care?"
Though he had never served, Pei Huizhou had met many retired soldiers.
From them, he knew military discipline was ironclad—orders were absolute, rules unbreakable.
Rations were strictly allocated. High-ranking officers fared better than common soldiers, but even they weren’t privileged enough to dine privately with women.
Hearing her uncle mention "Huo Youzhou" again, this time with indignation—as if he wanted to personally reprimand the "reckless subordinate"—Meng Ling'er flushed.
Their door was half-gone, and Squad Leader Sha and the other Youzhou soldiers were right outside. They had definitely heard.
"Uncle, please stop," she whispered urgently.
Pei Huizhou frowned. Why was his niece siding with outsiders? Her mother was being taken advantage of, yet she wouldn’t let him intervene.
In his opinion, such a crude Youzhou brute needed to be taught a lesson—preferably reported to his superior. And if that superior couldn’t handle it, they should take it straight to Huo Youzhou.
Rumor had it that Huo Youzhou was a man of great achievement, beloved by Youzhou’s people. Surely such a wise governor would set things right.
Just as he was about to explain this to his niece, she murmured, "The one who kicked the door down earlier... was Huo Youzhou."
Pei Huizhou froze.
Meng Ling'er wasn’t surprised by her uncle’s dazed reaction. She glanced at Cheng Yunzheng.
Her words had been quiet, but likely just loud enough for him to hear. Sure enough, his face had gone pale.
Clearly shaken.
Oddly, though, he didn’t immediately leave.
Pei Huizhou’s mind was a whirlwind—that brute was Huo Youzhou? Huo Youzhou was a brute?
With such a powerful man involved, what would become of his sister?
His heart felt like it had been tossed into boiling oil. He shifted restlessly, wanting to ask his niece for details but unwilling to discuss family matters in front of Cheng Yunzheng.
Their friendship was strong, but not strong enough to air private affairs.
The agonizing wait stretched on. To Pei Huizhou, it felt like hours before a faint sound came from outside.
A soft creak—the sound of a door opening.
Squad Leader Sha watched as the two emerged from the room. To his surprise, Lady Pei walked out first, followed by the general.
The general’s expression was still stern, unapproachable, but the earlier fury had faded.
Had she... calmed him down?
Squad Leader Sha exhaled in relief.
Good thing he’d pretended not to hear the "brute" comment. Otherwise, things might have gone badly.
Pei Ying returned to the room, meeting her brother’s anxious gaze. She gave him a reassuring look, signaling that all was well.
"Speak," came the deep voice behind her.
Pei Ying knew exactly what he wanted her to say, but jumping straight into it felt awkward.
Choosing her words carefully, she addressed Pei Huizhou. "Brother, I have matters to attend to later, so I won’t be joining you for the meal. I appreciate your kindness, but I have no need for it now. Please don’t trouble yourself on my behalf."
Though her words were directed at her brother, they included Cheng Yunzheng—letting him down gently but making her stance clear.
Pei Ying stood in front, Huo Tingshan behind her. His height allowed him to easily look over her head, his gaze settling on Cheng Yunzheng.
His gaze was eerily calm, so calm it seemed he wasn't looking at a living being.
Cheng Yunzheng's entire body stiffened, as if his blood had frozen solid—even the tips of his toes went numb.
Having been a traveling merchant for years, he'd naturally fallen into perilous situations before. The most dangerous had been when he accidentally encountered forest bandits. Not only did they seize all his goods, but he was also dragged back to their den as a slave. Yet even the sensation of a blade pressed against his throat back then paled in comparison to this moment.
Cheng Yunzheng lowered his head, avoiding the intensity of that gaze, not daring to meet it directly.
Huo Tingshan inwardly scoffed.
Such a spineless, pretty-faced weakling—if she truly fancied this type, he’d have to round up a hundred physicians to cure her of such poor taste.
The tension in the private room lingered for several breaths before Pei Huizhou awkwardly intervened, "It’s fine. Since Yingying has matters to attend to, you may go ahead."
"The hour grows late. Let’s return," Huo Tingshan declared.
His words were final.
When sending word to Huo Tingshan earlier, Squad Leader Sha had also arranged for a carriage to be prepared. Now, as Pei Ying returned to the posthouse, she no longer had to walk as she had on the way here.
Pei Huizhou escorted Pei Ying and Meng Ling'er all the way to the teahouse entrance. When he caught sight of the high-quality carriage and the sleek, well-fed black steed beside it—its mane glossier than that of any ordinary horse—the last trace of hope in his heart withered.
Fine clothing could be bought with money, but a thousand-mile steed was a rarity. Even in the previous dynasty, there had been tales of people paying fortunes for mere horse bones—proof of their scarcity.
"Elder Brother, I’ll seek you out again later," Pei Ying murmured softly.
Pei Huizhou gave her a complicated nod before whispering, "Be careful around that man, Yingying. Don’t get too close to him."
Pei Ying’s eyelids twitched, and she stole a glance at Huo Tingshan.
The man had ears like a hound—he’d probably heard.
But seeing his lowered brows and detached expression, as if he couldn’t care less, she relaxed slightly. Somehow, she doubted he would make an issue of it.
Upon returning to the posthouse, Huo Tingshan had a meal set up in the main hall.
For the past two days, Pei Ying had found excuses to avoid dining with him. But tonight, she behaved, joining him with her daughter in the reserved first-floor hall.
Winter’s staple dish was the antique hotpot—convenient and delicious. Tonight’s dinner was no exception. The small bronze pots bubbled as the spiced broth boiled, filling the air with a rich aroma.
Each person had their own pot, free to add whatever meats they pleased. Pei Ying ate slowly, savoring the steam rising from the broth. The thinly sliced fish, briefly scalded before being dipped in sauce, carried a refreshing tang that whetted the appetite.
The chill dissipated amid the gentle simmering. Warmth seeped into Pei Ying’s hands and feet, her expression easing as a faint pink bloomed on her jade-like cheeks from the heat.
Truly, hotpot suited her tastes. If only the pork meatballs were less gamey.
Huo Tingshan occasionally exchanged a few words with her—he spoke, and she responded. It wasn’t lively, but the atmosphere was far from stiff.
Meng Ling'er observed from the side, startled to see the tension had eased so naturally, as if returning to their days in the provincial governor’s residence. It was almost as if the afternoon’s incident had never happened.
Pei Ying felt the same. It was good—let the matter be put to rest.
But just as the meal neared its end, Huo Tingshan leisurely remarked, "The posthouse has plenty of rooms. Tonight, Madam and your daughter may rest separately."
A string in Pei Ying’s mind twanged sharply. Her gaze snapped up, colliding with the fathomless depths of his eyes.
He was looking at her—with a meaning they both understood.
He wanted her.
Pei Ying’s lips parted slightly. She almost asked if the afternoon’s matter wasn’t already behind them—but then realized that whether it was or not had little to do with this.
Meng Ling'er noticed nothing amiss.
Back in the governor’s residence, she had always slept separately from Pei Ying. It was routine. Though they’d shared quarters during the march, that had been out of necessity. Now, with proper accommodations, separate rooms were only natural.
Huo Tingshan was often decisive. After the meal, he personally accompanied Pei Ying to inform Xin Jin, instructing her to move Meng Ling'er’s belongings to another vacant room.
Xin Jin grasped the situation instantly, a flicker of concern crossing her eyes.
The kitchen here belonged to the posthouse. If they brewed contraceptive medicine here, they’d surely be discovered.
Xin Jin and Shui Su worked swiftly, transferring Meng Ling'er’s belongings upstairs to the second floor.
Meng Ling'er watched, then frowned. "Why move to the second floor? The room next to Mother’s seemed empty."
Pei Ying stiffened, not expecting her daughter to notice. Xin Jin smoothly interjected, "Young Miss, the room upstairs is more comfortable."
Meng Ling'er accepted the explanation.
With few belongings for just one night, the move was soon complete. The girl smiled. "Goodnight, Mother."
Pei Ying nodded. "Goodnight."
Winter nights fell early. By the time Pei Ying finished bathing, darkness had fully enveloped the world outside.
She towel-dried her hair, sitting by the charcoal brazier until it was nearly dry.
No hairdryers in ancient times—washing hair in winter was always a hassle.
A knock sounded at the door.
Pei Ying paused, her first thought being that Huo Tingshan had arrived—then realizing, with some surprise, that she’d come to recognize his presence without realizing it.
He always moved with unhurried certainty, as if everything were under his control.
Adjusting her inner robe, she called, "The door isn’t locked. Come in."
The hinges creaked as the door opened.
Light spilled outward, illuminating the towering figure at the threshold before being blocked by his imposing frame.
Huo Tingshan stepped inside.
Immediately, that familiar fragrance greeted him—more alluring than soap, reminiscent of lotus yet sweeter.
They all stayed in the same posthouse, yet her room alone carried this scent.
Xin Jin had already withdrawn, leaving only the two of them. As he approached, Pei Ying tensed despite herself—even though it wasn’t their first time.
Huo Tingshan reached out, running his fingers through her damp hair.
Almost dry. Another quarter-hour or so.
Pei Ying tilted her head away. "Sit over there."
Instead, he settled beside her. "What incense does Madam use?"
Since the Silk Road opened, exotic fragrances had flooded into Great Chu. The nobility had grown obsessed, many convinced that incense warded off illness. Among the wealthy, it had become a near-universal indulgence.
"Xin Jin prepares it. I don’t know the specifics." Pei Ying gestured toward the vanity. "Feel free to inspect it yourself."
She hoped to put some distance between them.
Given his occasional contrarian tendencies, she expected him to refuse. Yet he actually rose, strode to the dressing table, and flipped open a small box of scented powder.
Huo Tingshan sniffed—then immediately lost interest.
Not this scent.
Snapping the lid shut, he tossed it back onto the vanity.
Pei Ying heard the distinct "thud" sound and clenched her fists lightly—this man truly had no concept of handling things gently.
He had returned, reaching out once more to stroke her long hair.
"Still damp," Pei Ying brushed his large hand away.
He had only stepped out briefly, barely a minute passing—how could her hair dry so quickly?
Huo Tingshan settled back onto the plush seat beside her. "No matter. You attend to your affairs, and I’ll attend to mine."
Pei Ying froze momentarily, but before she could decipher his meaning, he had already pulled her close.
Huo Tingshan adjusted her posture deliberately, turning her back toward the charcoal brazier behind them. Her cascading hair, like a waterfall, made for convenient drying.
Her skirts spilled loosely as she perched on Huo Tingshan’s lap, enveloped in his embrace. One steely arm wrapped around her slender waist, while his other large hand slid to the nape of her neck.
In this near-restraining hold, Huo Tingshan began kissing her.
Pei Ying knew his advances were always relentless, yet even with mental preparation, she stiffened awkwardly when the moment arrived.
Today, Huo Tingshan seemed more heated than usual—like a volcano seething internally, ready to erupt. Even his exhales carried a scorching urgency.
His palm stroked the back of her neck repeatedly, as if soothing her, or perhaps conveying something else entirely. The sensation sent shivers rippling across her skin, leaving her trembling faintly.
Perhaps sensing her quivers, he trailed his hand downward in slow, rhythmic strokes, like petting a cat. Though his touch was gentle, his actions above were anything but.
He kissed her like a starved wolf devouring meat—ravenous, unwilling to spare even the slightest gap between his teeth.
Pei Ying’s cheeks flushed crimson, the blush spreading down her neck, staining her jade-like skin in vivid hues.
Fresh from her bath, she wore fewer layers than usual. The room, warmed by the charcoal brazier, had been comfortably temperate—yet gradually, the heat surged as if flames licked at her, threatening to consume her entirely.
Her luxurious Shu brocade underrobe slipped to the floor, the once-coveted fabric now utterly ignored.
The lamplight flickered silently in the room. After what felt like an eternity, a low chuckle broke the stillness.
"With winter’s arrival, my wife seems to have grown a little fuller here." He even measured with his hands, nodding approvingly afterward.
Pei Ying burned with embarrassment. Her hands, which had been clinging to his shoulders, now pushed at him. "Huo Tingshan, must you talk so much?"
"If you dislike my words, then let’s act instead."
Just as matters reached a critical point, hurried footsteps echoed outside, giving Huo Tingshan pause.
The steps were light—not those of a guard.
Huo Tingshan resumed, but the footsteps headed straight for them, stopping right outside Pei Ying’s door.
"Madam Pei, a Master Cheng is here to see you. He says... he says that Master Pei has been taken by several men in black. His whereabouts are unknown." It was Xin Jin’s voice.
Pei Ying gasped, immediately pressing a hand against Huo Tingshan’s chest. "How could this be? Is Master Cheng in the main hall? Tell him to wait—I’ll be there shortly."
Huo Tingshan’s face darkened instantly.
That pretty-faced scholar was truly fated to clash with him.
