Pei Ying was not one to be bothered by unfamiliar beds, but she slept restlessly that night and woke at dawn. Her daughter, however, was still sound asleep beside her, so Pei Ying quietly rose and slipped out alone.
As soon as she pushed open the door, she found someone standing outside—Xin Jin, who had guided her the previous night. Instinctively, Pei Ying greeted her with a "Good morning," only to immediately realize such a modern phrase didn’t belong in this era. Flustered, she awkwardly shifted the topic: "I already told you last night there’s no need to attend to me. The early autumn chill makes for perfect sleep—why didn’t you rest longer?"
At sixteen or seventeen, Xin Jin should have been at an age where sleep was precious.
Yet Xin Jin remained deferential, her head slightly bowed. "Thank you for your kindness, madam, but I am not tired."
In truth, she hadn’t woken early—she had stood guard all night. The day before, General Huo Tingshan had ordered her to serve the honored guest without leaving her side for even a moment.
Xin Jin was a servant of the county magistrate. Having spent over a decade in servitude, she prided herself on reading her masters’ intentions. If the general had merely wanted her to serve attentively, he wouldn’t have emphasized "without leaving her side." So, after some thought, Xin Jin had kept watch outside the door all night, ready to attend to any unexpected needs.
Unaware of Xin Jin’s calculations, Pei Ying washed up in the adjacent side room before returning to the main chamber. In this unfamiliar place, she felt at ease only when near her daughter.
The child still slept soundly. Pei Ying sat absently at the table, lost in thought about the future.
The rest of the Meng family had fled, abandoning her and her daughter. But once the "bandit threat" in Beichuan County was fully quelled, they would surely return. With her nominal husband gone, staying in Beichuan would mean living under the thumb of Meng's Mother, who had never liked her. Pei Ying saw no promise in such a life.
Better to leave for Chang’an before Meng's Mother returned. The capital was prosperous, far safer than a small county town. There, she could start a small business to support herself and her daughter—surely, it wouldn’t be impossible...
"Madam, breakfast is ready. Please come to the main hall to dine. Once the young miss wakes, a separate meal will be prepared for her," Xin Jin’s soft voice interrupted Pei Ying’s thoughts.
Still lost in her own world, Pei Ying followed Xin Jin without hesitation.
When she entered the hall, she was startled to see a tall figure already standing there. Her heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively took half a step back.
Huo Tingshan noticed Pei Ying the moment she appeared. When he had seen her the previous evening at dusk, the dim light had enhanced her beauty—what might have been an eight out of ten became a perfect ten. He had assumed that was her most radiant state.
But now, in the morning light, he realized not all beauties needed the sunset to hide flaws. At twilight, clad in red, she had been a dazzling peony. Now, dressed in a simple blue-green cross-collar gown, her grace was understated yet mesmerizing. Her eyes, clear as autumn water, held a quiet elegance, as if hiding a landscape of breathtaking splendor within their depths.
"Did you sleep well last night?" Huo Tingshan pretended not to notice her retreat.
Pei Ying steadied herself. "Very well, thank you."
"Come, join me for breakfast," he said.
The sound of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. Memories of the previous day flashed through her mind—his overwhelming presence, the rough scrape of his stubble against her skin, the panic of being pinned beneath him like a mountain, the terror of being devoured. She could almost smell the mingled scents of strong liquor, grass, and windblown sand again.
Huo Tingshan gestured for her to take her seat.
Seeing none of yesterday’s domineering manner in him now, Pei Ying relaxed slightly. He seemed reasonable, even courteous.
Meals were served separately in this era. Two small low tables were set before them, laden with an extravagant spread that nearly covered the surfaces.
Pei Ying glanced at Huo Tingshan. He had already picked up his chopsticks and started on the noodles, so she followed suit.
The meal passed in silence. Pei Ying kept her eyes mostly on her own table, only occasionally stealing a quick glance at Huo Tingshan. As long as he kept eating, she did too.
Huo Tingshan noticed her cautious behavior—like a white rabbit nibbling grass, ears perked for danger before daring another bite. Amused, he deliberately slowed his pace.
Breakfast took twice as long as usual. When he finally set down his chopsticks, Pei Ying did the same.
"These past two days have been a disturbance to you, General. My daughter and I will take our leave before noon," she said softly.
Now that the house had a new master, it was only proper to bid farewell before departing. The thought made sharing breakfast with Huo Tingshan seem less daunting.
Huo Tingshan listened to her gentle voice, detecting the barely concealed eagerness beneath her words.
So eager to go home? A pity.
"I’m afraid I cannot let you leave just yet," he said, his gaze fixed on her.
It was like a thunderclap. Pei Ying’s eyes widened in shock, and she nearly bolted upright. "Why not? You promised!"
Huo Tingshan rose and moved to her side in one fluid motion, sitting so close that the hem of his robe draped over her skirt.
Before she could react, he seized her wrist. His large hand engulfed her slender bones effortlessly, his scorching touch branding her skin.
She tried to pull away, but his grip was unyielding. Pei Ying looked up at him, her voice a mix of pleading and reproach. "You said a gentleman’s word is unbreakable."
Huo Tingshan smiled. "Don’t fret, madam. Hear me out first."
Pei Ying frowned. He didn’t sound like he was going back on his word—but if not, why stop her from leaving?
"An hour ago, soldiers reported finding a carriage near the southern gate," he continued. "Inside were several corpses—men, women, and children. The horses and valuables were gone. The family appears to have been killed by bandits."
Pei Ying froze, struggling to process his words.
When the "bandits" had stormed the city, some fled Beichuan while others hid and waited for reinforcements. Both choices carried risks, and losing one’s life was an unfortunate possibility.
Huo Tingshan went on, "Though their belongings were stolen, their travel passes were still in the carriage. Care to guess which family they belonged to?"
Travel passes—small bamboo slips bearing the holder’s name, residence, and the issuing official’s seal—were essential for movement in this era.
Pei Ying wasn’t slow to understand. If Huo Tingshan wasn’t reneging, this must concern her directly. Meng's Mother and the others had left in a carriage, and to reach Fanxiang Commandery from northern Beichuan, they would have headed south...
"You’re clever, madam," Huo Tingshan said, watching the realization dawn in her trembling eyes.
Distracted by the shocking news, Pei Ying forgot to pull her hand back. She didn’t notice the way his thumb absently stroked the delicate skin of her inner wrist, as if savoring the memory of her touch.
Meng's Mother and the others were dead. Pei Ying felt no grief—only concern for how her daughter might take the news.
Her nominal aunt had already passed away, which meant no one could use filial piety to pressure her now. Under these circumstances, she and her daughter didn’t necessarily have to rush to Chang’an immediately. They could stay in Beichuan a while longer, wait for the situation to stabilize, save up more travel funds, and ideally set off for the capital alongside armed escorts from the security agency before relocating the entire household.
Pei Ying’s thoughts drifted far and wide, weaving countless possibilities, each more hopeful than the last. By the time she snapped back to reality, she realized she had been lost in contemplation for quite some time. Her hand was still clasped in the man’s palm, and the faint curve of his lips betrayed his evident satisfaction.
Flustered, Pei Ying withdrew her hand. This time, he let her go without resistance. She shifted slightly away, their overlapping robes gradually parting.
Huo Tingshan didn’t press further. "These are troubled times," he said calmly. "There are outlaws who specifically target households with few members—easy prey for quick profit. You, madam, are alone with a young daughter. The Meng residence is far from modest, and with no male presence, it makes you the perfect mark. You’ve been of great help to me, and I’d hate to see you in danger. The magistrate’s estate is heavily guarded. You and your daughter may stay there without worry."
Pei Ying was skeptical.
The previous "bandits" hadn’t been real bandits, and that ordeal was over. Could there really be more? Besides, the Youzhou army was temporarily stationed here, their iron cavalry suppressing any unrest. Surely no fool would dare cause trouble now.
Huo Tingshan easily read her doubt and remained unshaken. "Better safe than sorry," he countered. "Even if you disregard your own safety, think of your daughter’s well-being."
That final line struck her like a nail.
Even the slimmest chance was too much. She couldn’t bear to risk her daughter—the pain of losing her once was already more than enough. Yet Pei Ying had no desire to remain near Huo Tingshan either. The man was dangerous, domineering as a tiger, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that one misstep would leave her devoured whole.
An idea occurred to her. "General, could you lend me a few soldiers to escort my daughter and me to Chang’an?"
If this small county was no longer safe, then leaving was the only option. Better to head for a major city like Chang’an—not with the security agency’s escorts, but under the protection of the more reliable Youzhou troops.
Huo Tingshan watched as her eyes sparkled like rippling water, amused that she actually believed she could leave—and that he would facilitate her departure.
"No." His refusal was absolute.
