Pei Ying could naturally see Huo Tingshan’s displeased expression, but these words had to be said.
In modern times, wealthy men weren’t necessarily reliable, let alone in ancient times.
She didn’t want to tie herself down to the inner chambers of an ancient man’s household, worrying that one day a troublesome concubine might appear and drag her into a melodramatic feud, with the added burden of clashing ideologies between past and present for the rest of her life.
This time, Huo Tingshan had helped her, offering her shelter, and she could repay him—whether through the cotton she had provided earlier or other means in the future. But she refused to offer the rest of her potentially long life in return.
Ever since realizing she couldn’t escape his side for the time being, Pei Ying had considered her position.
Once those five nights ended, she could rely on her modern knowledge to become an advisor under Huo Tingshan’s command, securing respect and protection for herself and her daughter.
But the recent chain of events had shattered her plans with overwhelming force, leaving her bewildered at how things had come to this point.
It felt like a dream.
Huo Tingshan stared intently at Pei Ying, watching her fingers unconsciously clutch at her skirt, knowing she was uneasy.
Her mind wasn’t large, yet it was filled with endless thoughts—always suspicious, always wary of him.
After raising her for so long, she still hadn’t warmed up to him. What a waste.
Huo Tingshan clicked his tongue. "Fine, my lady has the final say today."
In the Zhou dynasty, the eleventh month was considered the start of the year, with red as its auspicious color and midnight as the beginning of the day.
Well, since she had said it herself, today she could decide—but from now on, he would call the shots.
Pei Ying studied his expression. "General, will you sign and seal it?"
Huo Tingshan replied flatly, "No."
...
Fifteen minutes later.
A small desk was set with mulberry paper, and the inkstone had been prepared.
Huo Tingshan held a wolf-hair brush, pausing briefly before writing in bold, sweeping strokes.
Pei Ying stood beside him, watching as her expression shifted from curiosity to confusion, then to urgency, until she finally couldn’t hold back. "General, did you write the wrong thing?"
Huo Tingshan: "Not at all. What I wrote is clearly 'A','g','r','e','e','m','e','n','t'."
He turned the brush around, tapping each character on the paper as he enunciated.
Pei Ying stared at the three large characters for "Yanmen Commandery," wondering if one of them had gone blind.
She fetched a fresh sheet. "General, perhaps you should visit Physician Feng tomorrow and have him check your eyes."
"My lady, didn’t you claim to be illiterate?" Huo Tingshan smirked.
Pei Ying stiffened. Back then, she had made up an excuse to avoid showing him her simplified handwriting—now she’d forgotten about it.
"I recognize some characters, but I can’t write them well," she said, replacing the old paper with a new one. "So please don’t try to deceive me, General."
Huo Tingshan scoffed. "My lady spins lies before me as effortlessly as selling grain. If falsehoods were sold by weight, you’d be richer than the kingdom by now."
Pei Ying averted her gaze. "You exaggerate, General."
Huo Tingshan couldn’t be bothered to list every lie she’d told him.
He dipped the brush again, this time writing exactly as Pei Ying dictated. Once finished, he signed his name with a flourish.
"This is unnecessary, my lady. Anyone can tell this is my handwriting—whether I sign or not makes no difference," he said, handing her the brush.
Pei Ying countered, "General, don’t mock my ignorance. If signatures were meaningless, why do official documents require them? Some even need personal seals."
Speaking of seals, she cleared her throat. "Since we’re at it, General, why not stamp it as well?"
Huo Tingshan gave her a sidelong glance. "My lady’s talent for pushing boundaries is unmatched."
Not wanting to argue before the seal was stamped, Pei Ying merely smiled. "You misunderstand me, General."
Huo Tingshan: "The seal is in my study. Come find me there tomorrow."
Now it was her turn to sign.
Pei Ying gripped the brush, carefully writing the character for "Pei." But when it came to "Ying," she hesitated.
The modern "Pei" was the same as the ancient one.
But "Ying" wasn’t—she remembered the ancient "bird" radical differed from the modern one. How should the top part be written?
Her head throbbed. She glanced at Huo Tingshan, only to find him watching her calligraphy with amusement.
"Your handwriting..." He stroked his beard. "Has a uniquely hideous charm."
Pei Ying’s cheeks flushed.
She had never practiced brushwork, so her strokes were shaky and uneven—nothing like his bold, sharp characters.
"Why stop, my lady?" Huo Tingshan feigned surprise.
Pei Ying had an idea. "Since the agreement won’t be sealed until tomorrow, I’ll finish signing it then and bring it to your study."
Once he left, she could check how to write "Ying" properly—or ask her daughter tomorrow.
As she set the brush down, Huo Tingshan’s smile deepened. "Could it be that my lady doesn’t know how to write the next character? If so, I have a solution."
Pei Ying instinctively asked, "What?" expecting him to demonstrate.
"Ying means 'songbird.' My lady could draw a little bird instead. Given your artistic skill, I’m sure it would be lifelike—a fitting signature," he teased.
Pei Ying: "..."
She said dryly, "General, how old are you?"
Huo Tingshan remained unbothered. "Thirty-six—in the prime of life. Strong, healthy, and destined to live a century alongside my lady."
He stepped behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist while his other hand closed over hers on the brush. "Let me teach you."
Pei Ying’s breath hitched. His touch burned against her skin, but he held her firmly, as domineering as ever.
Before she could protest, he guided her hand.
The brush touched paper. Stroke by stroke—horizontal, vertical, sweeping, pressing—each movement was decisive, flowing into a single elegant character.
Soon, the ancient form of "Ying" appeared before her.
His calligraphy was as striking as the man himself—wild, unyielding, every angle sharp and unapologetic.
Once done, he released her hand before she could complain.
Huo Tingshan stepped back. "Now copy it."
Pei Ying lowered her gaze. The ink-dark "Ying" seemed to pulse on the page, the lingering warmth of his touch still on her skin.
Steadying herself, she began tracing the character.
Soon, another wobbly, delicate version of "Ying" graced the paper.
Pei Ying glanced at the character "Ying" (meaning "oriole") that Huo Tingshan had just written with her, then looked at her own attempt, her delicate brows furrowing slightly.
At that moment, someone nearby chuckled quietly. Though it was just a laugh—with no further comment—Pei Ying's ears flushed red all the same. She realized this man had a hint of mischief buried deep within him, one that surfaced unexpectedly…
After a cup of tea, Pei Ying excused herself, citing the need for rest, and politely ushered Huo Tingshan out.
As he stepped out of her room and turned back, Pei Ying met his dark, smoldering gaze—a familiar heat burning in his eyes.
He wanted her.
The brief exchange sent her heart racing. Memories of a wildfire, fanned by an unseen gale, roared through her mind, swallowing her whole like a ravenous beast.
A shiver ran down her neck, raising goosebumps. She hastily averted her eyes. "General, you should retire early as well. Rest well—who knows when the Bingzhou army might make their move?"
Huo Tingshan smirked knowingly. "My wife is quite perceptive."
"Goodnight, General." Pei Ying took a step back and closed the door.
Perhaps because the immediate crisis had passed, she slept soundly that night.
The next morning, Pei Ying sent Xin Jin out to inquire whether Prince Huikang had left yet.
He hadn’t.
Counting today, the prince had already lingered in the governor’s residence for three days, treating it as if it were his own estate.
"He still hasn’t left?" Pei Ying murmured in surprise. After some thought, she instructed Xin Jin, "Take a message to the General. Tell him I’ll visit his study once that prince departs—or, if he prefers, he can bring his personal seal back to the courtyard in the evening."
Xin Jin delivered the message and returned with Huo Tingshan’s reply: "Madam, the General said you should come to the study from now on."
Pei Ying understood. She waited another day.
By noon on the fourth day, she sent Xin Jin out again to check on Prince Huikang’s whereabouts.
The news was disappointing. The prince remained in the residence, seemingly intent on staying indefinitely.
Pei Ying frowned. "Why won’t this man leave?"
Just as she grew frustrated, a guard arrived with a summons. "Madam Pei, the General requests your presence in the main hall."
"Now?" Pei Ying asked, startled.
The guard nodded.
Though she suspected this might involve an encounter with Prince Huikang, Pei Ying decided to go, curious about Huo Tingshan’s intentions.
When she arrived, sure enough, Prince Huikang was there. The two men sat across from each other at a low table, a Go board between them, deep in their game.
Noticing Pei Ying’s arrival, Huo Tingshan turned with a smile. "Ah, my wife is here. Come, join us."
Prince Huikang looked up, his gaze still heated but noticeably more restrained than before.
Pei Ying approached and took the cushioned seat beside Huo Tingshan. Since both men were seated, standing would have been improper.
Huo Tingshan held the black stones, Prince Huikang the white. The match was evenly balanced.
"Madam Pei, do you play Go?" Prince Huikang asked.
"I know a little," she replied.
The prince’s lips curled. With his next move, his strategy grew aggressive.
Huo Tingshan remained unruffled, leisurely placing a stone.
Unlike the usual silence of Go players, the two men chatted idly, occasionally drawing Pei Ying into the conversation.
At first, she didn’t grasp Huo Tingshan’s aim—until their discussion took an unexpected turn.
"Once the weather warms," Huo Tingshan remarked, "I’ll take my wife back to her family home. Her elder brother holds his liquor well, and I hear her younger sister is no slouch either. We’ll bring plenty of fine wine so they won’t run dry."
Pei Ying froze.
Instantly, she felt Prince Huikang’s gaze sharpen.
"Where is Madam Pei’s ancestral home?" the prince pressed eagerly.
"Jizhou," Pei Ying answered vaguely.
Prince Huikang didn’t press for specifics. Instead, he mused, "I’ve heard many sisters born of the same mother bear striking resemblances. Do you and your sister look alike?"
Now Pei Ying understood.
A calloused hand closed over hers beneath the table, fingers teasing her fingertips.
Without glancing at Huo Tingshan, she kept her eyes on the prince and smiled faintly. "Your Highness is well-informed. Indeed, my sister and I are very much alike. Even our parents often confused us as children—and still do, at times."
Prince Huikang’s eyes gleamed. He nearly blurted another question but caught himself, veering instead into anecdotes about his nephews, nieces, and even grand-nephews—sprinkling in a few royal scandals for good measure.
After a quarter-hour of such meandering, he finally circled back. "Madam Pei, where did your sister marry into?"
Beneath the table, Huo Tingshan’s fingers trailed toward her palm. Pei Ying clenched her fist, refusing him further mischief.
She knew exactly what he was up to now.
"Your Highness, my sister married into Bingzhou," she said.
The wandering hand stilled.
Prince Huikang leaned in. Recalling a place Huo Tingshan had once mentioned, Pei Ying added, "To Xiaojiang County."
Xiaojiang County—where the Bingzhou governor’s seat was located.
She said no more, but the prince’s mind raced.
Beauty paired with heroes, as the saying went. If Madam Pei’s sister married into Xiaojiang, it must be a prominent family.
He’d heard the Bingzhou governor had three sons—roughly Pei Ying’s age.
Could it be the Shi family?
"Madam Pei, did your sister marry into the Shi household?" Prince Huikang ventured.
Huo Tingshan’s finger tapped once against the back of her hand.
"Yes," Pei Ying confirmed.
The prince nearly trembled with excitement.
Huo Tingshan was the Youzhou governor, but the Shi sons held no such power—and given current tensions, Bingzhou’s influence had waned.
He’d never heard of any prominent Pei clan in Jizhou. Likely, Madam Pei came from humble origins. A minor family’s daughter wouldn’t be a principal wife—her sister was probably a concubine.
And concubines could be gifted freely.
As the emperor’s uncle, surely it wasn’t too much to ask the Shi family for one little concubine?
The thought alone set his blood boiling.
Abruptly conceding the Go match, Prince Huikang rose. "Governor Huo, I’ve just recalled an old friend nearby I must visit. I shan’t impose on your hospitality further."
Huo Tingshan, ever perceptive, asked considerately, "Where is Your Highness's friend? Shall I dispatch a guard escort to accompany you?"
"There's no need for such trouble. This prince has a personal guard who can ensure my safety. I wouldn’t want to trouble Governor Huo," Prince Huikang promptly declined.
He was headed to Xiaojiang County.
No sooner had he learned that Pei Ying’s maternal aunt was married there than Huo Tingshan became aware of his plans. If the prince went there now, the governor might draw certain conclusions.
Prince Huikang refused, Huo Tingshan politely insisted, and the two exchanged courtesies until the formalities were thoroughly observed.
After lingering at the governor’s residence for four days, Prince Huikang departed in haste, not even staying for the midday meal.
With the prince gone, Pei Ying felt considerably more at ease.
Huo Tingshan had lunch served directly in the main hall. Given the cold weather, they dined on hot pot.
"My wife’s cunning mind is no longer directed at me—I find that quite reassuring," Huo Tingshan remarked with a chuckle.
Pei Ying, hearing the note of amusement in his voice, retorted, "What cunning mind? I have no such thing."
Huo Tingshan merely smiled without reply.
After the meal, Pei Ying followed him to the study.
The contract was prepared in duplicate. Huo Tingshan tossed his personal seal to her. "The inkpad is in the small cabinet beside you. Help yourself."
He gave no warning before throwing it, and Pei Ying startled, barely catching the jade seal. "General!"
This man was truly reckless.
"You caught it, didn’t you?" Huo Tingshan turned away to arrange the chess pieces.
Once both seals were stamped, Pei Ying had just returned the inkpad when Huo Tingshan said, "Come, play a round of chess with me."
Pei Ying admitted frankly, "I’m not skilled at weiqi."
"No matter." Seeing her hesitate, he teased, "Are you going to turn cold now that the seal is set?"
"...Of course not." She walked over slowly.
Earlier, she had watched him play against Prince Huikang and thought their skills evenly matched.
But now, holding the white stones against him, she realized Huo Tingshan had been holding back. Despite her full concentration, she lost both games decisively.
Placing the white stone back in its box, Pei Ying sighed. "I’m no match for you. Let’s not continue."
Huo Tingshan insisted, "One more game. This time, I’ll give you a nine-stone handicap."
Pei Ying declined. "I truly can’t compete with you in weiqi. How about xiangqi instead?"
Huo Tingshan raised a brow. "Why xiangqi?"
Pei Ying paused, then remembered that liubo and weiqi were the popular games of the era—both ancient classics.
Xiangqi hadn’t even been invented yet.
"It’s hard to explain without the pieces. They’d need to be made first," she said.
Huo Tingshan set the black stone back in its box. "I’ll have Guo Dajiang assist you. A set of pieces shouldn’t take more than a day. Bring them tomorrow, and let me see."
After a moment’s thought, Pei Ying nodded.
Just then, a guard announced Gongsun Liang’s arrival.
"General, I won’t keep you from your duties. I’ll take my leave," Pei Ying said, excusing herself.
On her way out, she encountered Gongsun Liang, who bowed respectfully.
Caught off guard, Pei Ying returned the gesture with a curtsy.
In the study:
Gongsun Liang said, "My lord, even if we take Bingzhou by next spring, consolidating control will take at least a month, if not several. A wedding requires the Three Letters and Six Etiquettes—factoring in the necessary procedures, the ceremony won’t be possible until autumn at the earliest. The next auspicious date in autumn is—"
"Autumn?" Huo Tingshan’s brows furrowed. "Can it not be summer?"
Gongsun Liang hesitated.
Huo Tingshan narrowed his eyes. "Prince Huikang departed for Xiaojiang County at noon. In a few days, news will spread across the provinces that the son of Bingzhou’s governor, enraged for love’s sake, murdered a royal. If the Sizhou army still dares to send reinforcements to Bingzhou after that, they’d be openly defying the Chu imperial family. Li Xiaotian isn’t foolish enough for that. With this, our southern flank is secure."
"As for Bingzhou..."
Huo Tingshan scoffed. "Shi Lianhu was already at death’s door after taking my arrow. Now, with winter’s chill and the shock of recent events, the old man will likely meet his maker soon. With Bingzhou leaderless, if we can’t seize it within a season, we might as well retire to farming."
Gongsun Liang sighed. "My lord, a summer wedding would be too rushed."
"Only the timing is accelerated. The formalities must proceed as usual—nothing omitted," Huo Tingshan instructed. "Include those fine items we seized from the Blue Scarf Bandits and Yuanshan County in the betrothal gifts. They’re of no use to me anyway."
Gongsun Liang’s lips twitched. He understood now.
His lord was determined to marry—and to marry as soon as possible.
Seeing Huo Tingshan’s resolve, Gongsun Liang swallowed his objections.
He knew the rumors well. There were other ways to handle the situation, albeit more complicated.
Yet his lord had chosen the most direct—and consequential—path.
A marriage one fought for was different, after all.
Next summer was only half a year away.
Guo Dajiang, though a butcher by trade, had a father who was a carpenter. So when Pei Ying handed him the design, he crafted a xiangqi set in less than a day.
After her afternoon nap, Pei Ying sent a guard to inquire and, learning Huo Tingshan was free, brought the set to his study.
"General, this is xiangqi," she said, setting down the wooden box.
As she placed it, Huo Tingshan noticed the grid and the words "Chu River, Han Border" on top. "How is it played?"
Pei Ying slid open the board, revealing the wooden pieces inside. After arranging them, she explained the rules one by one.
Huo Tingshan listened intently, his eyes gleaming.
After just one explanation, without questioning how she’d devised the game, he said, "This is fascinating. I’ve grasped the rules. Let’s play a round."
Pei Ying was no master of weiqi, but she excelled at xiangqi. Yesterday, she had lost two consecutive games of weiqi.
Today, she won three straight matches of xiangqi—a satisfying reversal.
Yet she noticed Huo Tingshan’s rapid improvement.
The man was not only sharp but cunning, quick to adapt and extrapolate.
In the first game, his play was tentative, but by the third, had she not known better, she’d have thought he’d been playing for years.
"Another round," Huo Tingshan reset the board.
Pei Ying shook her head. "No more."
Huo Tingshan offered, "Let’s make this one interesting—with a wager."
She had been ready to leave, but the word "wager" piqued her curiosity. "What kind?"
Huo Tingshan said casually, "If you win this game, after we marry, you’ll have full authority over all household affairs. I won’t interfere."
Pei Ying’s almond eyes widened slightly. “Really?”
His words were tantamount to granting her authority.
Even as a wife, in this feudal era, she was still subordinate to her husband—unlike the equal partnership of modern times.
Huo Tingshan smiled faintly. “A gentleman’s word is as unbreakable as a chariot drawn by four horses.”
Pei Ying was about to agree but hesitated. “And if I lose?”
Huo Tingshan’s lips curved. “Should you lose or draw, you’ll sew me a set of undergarments.”
The stakes were favorable, so Pei Ying accepted.
The fourth game began.
This round took longer than the last. Pei Ying played meticulously, finally setting up her cannons to corner his general. “Checkmate.”
Huo Tingshan sighed in admiration. “My lady is formidable. I concede.”
Pei Ying’s eyes crinkled with delight. “You were too kind.”
Huo Tingshan reset the pieces. “Another round?”
“Will there be stakes this time?” Pei Ying asked.
Huo Tingshan nodded. “If you win, I’ll facilitate the Pei family’s trade across three provinces. But if you lose or draw, our divorce—after the Emperor’s passing—will be delayed by half a year.”
Pei Ying fell silent, recalling Pei Huizhou’s worried gaze and the weighty letter from home. She agreed.
The fifth game commenced.
This match dragged on even longer. Pei Ying played with painstaking care, eventually pinning Huo Tingshan’s general with her knights.
Pei Ying grinned triumphantly. “Checkmate. I’ve won again.”
“So you have,” Huo Tingshan conceded, his own lips quirking. “Another game?”
Pei Ying studied him.
Knowing she awaited the stakes, Huo Tingshan said, “If you win, you’ll only need to accompany me on one out of every three military campaigns. But if you lose or draw… in our bedchamber, you’ll yield to my whims.”
