Chapter 318: With Child
“Today I went to visit Mother and stayed for most of the day…” Ma Wan smiled gently. “She looked much better — she could even sit up and talk for a while. She also told me to remind the Heir that he should not overwork himself.”
Li Lu smiled faintly.
He had asked what she had been doing, and she had answered instead with where she had gone — a detail that seemed innocuous, yet told him much.
Ma Wan was a careful woman, not one to speak in circles. But when one’s heart is unwilling to deceive, even the smallest slip may betray the truth.
A woman who has given all her heart — becomes like this.
His gaze softened. “Wan’er, thank you for caring for Mother in my stead.”
“How can the Heir speak so distantly? We are husband and wife,” she replied gently. “If we speak of hardship, these past days it is the Heir who has suffered the most — tending to every matter within and beyond the Prince’s Residence.”
The world was far from peaceful. Around Yizhou, there had been rumors of uprisings; and as their province bordered the Western frontier, the Prince of Rong’s household bore burdens both internal and external — never granted a moment of rest.
Ma Wan had included reports of these disturbances and the Prince’s responses in her letters home to the capital.
Yet the reply she received from her grandfather today said that the Holy Emperor did not wish to hear of such trivial matters. From now on, she was expected to “pay closer attention.”
Pay closer attention…
How was she to do that?
Her brief distraction did not escape Li Lu’s eyes. He smiled and lifted a hand to her cheek. “What are you thinking, Wan’er?”
Ma Wan flushed slightly from his touch. “It’s nothing… I was only thinking the Heir has been too busy lately — you should take more tonic and nourishment.”
As she spoke, she noticed the hand caressing her cheek was cold as snow. “Why are your hands so cold?” she asked softly.
Li Lu’s eyes curved in a tender smile. “It is nothing. Wan’er need not worry so much for me.”
The atmosphere between them softened — enough for one of the maids standing by to sense it. She quickly interjected, “Oh! There’s tonic soup warming in the kitchen for the Heir. We’ll go and fetch it.”
She nudged the maid beside her, Lan Ying.
Lan Ying stood unmoving, pretending not to notice.
The other maid gave her sleeve a sharp tug.
Forced, Lan Ying followed her out.
Once outside, the first maid shut the door quietly and dragged Lan Ying down the corridor.
Lan Ying’s face darkened. “Didn’t you say we were fetching soup? I’ll get it now.”
She wanted to move faster — as fast as possible — and dump the entire pot down the Prince’s throat if she could. Let him drown in tonic and confusion alike, unable ever again to bewitch her lady!
“Fetch soup? What soup?” The other maid rolled her eyes and pulled her farther away. “The Heir and the Lady finally have a quiet moment together — surely you understand?”
The words made Lan Ying’s ears burn.
“Or perhaps…” The maid leaned close with a teasing smirk. “Perhaps Sister Lan Ying has a little interest in the Heir herself? If so, I could help you.”
Lan Ying felt struck by lightning.
Interest in the Heir?
She must be mad before she’d ever take interest in that silver-tongued fox who had bewitched her lady to this point!
If she felt anything, it was a murderous impulse!
The maid, mistaking her stunned silence, grew bolder and whispered slyly in Lan Ying’s ear.
“…” Lan Ying nearly dropped her jaw. “You want me to climb his bed?”
She might want to separate the Heir and her lady, but certainly not by joining in!
This time it was the maid’s turn to look scandalized. “How can Sister Lan Ying say it so crudely? You’re the Lady’s personal maid — helping her share her burdens is only proper, isn’t it?”
Lan Ying swallowed her disgust, forcing an awkward smile. “I think we’d better concern ourselves more with the Heir’s health. If he’s worn out too quickly, runs dry of strength, and dies on us — what then?”
“…” The maid fell speechless at such bluntness.
Lan Ying seized the excuse of needing to tidy the study and escaped.
The instant she was out of sight, her polite mask dropped entirely.
Before her lady’s marriage, she had opposed it with all her might. No matter how she looked at the Prince’s Heir, she found him displeasing — sickly, elusive, untrustworthy. Yet her lady had insisted, almost quarreling with her for it.
Having grown up together, Lan Ying could not bear to part from her and had pleaded for days until her lady agreed to take her along.
Her lady had said the Heir of Prince Rong was a once-in-a-lifetime soulmate — that his music carried a solitude untouched by the world, a loneliness that drew her in. Even if his heart already held another, he had promised that one day, he would let go.
As she spoke, her eyes glimmered with longing — and a faint, aching pity. The sight had made Lan Ying’s temples throb. She had wanted to pinch someone — her lady, herself, anyone — just to wake from this madness.
Her lady, a legitimate daughter of the Prime Minister’s household, talented and refined, had willingly married such a frail man — and loved him as if her heart could heal him.
And that guilt she carried toward him… of course it came from the “task” she had undertaken.
As the maid born and raised in the Prime Minister’s manor, Lan Ying knew of that “task” all too well.
Knowing only made her feel all the more helpless. Her lady had married with hidden purpose, risking life and honor — all for a man she pitied!
Lan Ying sometimes wanted to look to the heavens and demand which meddlesome deity had dared tie such a blood-tipped red thread.
If she could find that thread, she would tear it apart, grind it beneath her teeth, and set it aflame!
True, she had no proof the Prince’s Heir harbored ulterior motives — only a servant girl’s instinct and fierce loyalty. But watching the man who had dragged her lady into this treacherous marriage, how could she feel anything but resentment?
Still, she knew the truth of their situation — under another’s roof, one must bow one’s head.
And so, no matter how heavy her indignation burned, she could only swallow it down, again and again.
In these past days, Lan Ying had come to believe that every person within the Prince of Rong’s residence possessed eight hundred hidden schemes.
She dared not open her mouth too wide when speaking, for fear that one misplaced word might be caught by the countless fine nets of calculation that filled the air like sand, suffocating her.
Even at night she avoided walking about — afraid that one misstep might send her tumbling over one of those invisible snares scattered everywhere.
Just like that maid earlier who had tried to coax her into “warming the bed” — who knew whose person she was, or what her true intentions might be?
Lan Ying sighed and began tidying her lady’s writing desk to distract herself, forcing her thoughts away from imagining what her lady and that frail fox of a man might be doing at this very moment.
The very picture of it made her chest ache.
At that moment, Li Lu drew Ma Wan gently into his embrace from behind.
“Your Highness…” she whispered, flustered.
“Wan’er,” his soft murmur brushed against her ear, “it is time we had a child.”
Her lashes trembled at his words, and joy bloomed uncontrollably in her heart.
Though he treated her with courtesy and affection, his weak health and the endless affairs of the princely household had meant that, in the half-year since their marriage, their nights together could be counted on one hand.
A child…
This was the first time he had spoken of such a thing of his own accord.
He was a reserved man by nature — this must mean that he had truly accepted her, that he had finally opened his heart to his wife.
Her eyes moistened. She nodded, trembling, and closed them.
Li Lu lowered his head to breathe against the faint fragrance of her neck. “Wan’er,” he whispered, “thank you.”
This was the wife he had chosen when he could not have the one he truly wanted — a woman gentle, sincere, and easily guided.
Everything about her was… perfectly convenient.
Yet when he closed his eyes, another face rose in his mind — one utterly beyond his control.
He thought of that marriage proposal returned by arrow, of the woman standing beneath the moon on the departing boat that night… and his jaw tightened. His lips brushed her neck, and then bit down gently.
Ma Wan’s face flushed crimson. Gathering her courage, she turned in his arms and buried her face against his chest.
The next morning, Ma Wan awoke with a faint smile upon her lips.
Turning, she gazed at the sleeping man beside her and felt utterly content.
Last night, she had sensed it clearly — he had accepted her at last, placed her within his heart. She had not chosen wrongly; her sincerity had not been wasted.
His acceptance had come gradually, and because of that, she felt more secure than ever.
She watched him for a long time before rising quietly from the bed, careful not to wake him.
Before calling her maids, she walked to the window, cast another look at the motionless bed curtains, and, seeing no movement, reached for a small jade bottle. From within, she drew out a folded letter she had hidden the previous night.
Behind her, Li Lu’s eyes were open — awake, calm, and faintly amused.
Unaware, Ma Wan tucked the letter close to her body before dressing.
When the sound of movement reached the outer room, a maid entered to attend her.
“The hour is still early,” Ma Wan whispered. “Do not disturb the Heir.”
After washing and dressing, she went to the study.
The servants of the residence knew the Princess Consort’s habits well: born in a minister’s household, she was scholarly and refined, and rose early each day to read and copy scriptures.
But today, Ma Wan could not bring herself to read.
She took out the wrinkled letter, unfolded it, and after long contemplation, began to write her reply.
She promised her grandfather she would be more “attentive.”
Yet she also insisted that the Prince of Rong’s household bore no disloyalty as the Holy Emperor suspected. The people of Yizhou were simple and content; His Highness of Rong was benevolent and virtuous — a true gentleman, not one to endanger the realm for selfish gain.
She wrote that both the Prince and the Heir must surely know she had been sent as the Holy Emperor’s eyes and ears, and yet they had always treated her with respect and trust, never showing the slightest wariness — proof enough of their integrity.
Her brush moved swiftly as she sought to use her sincerity to clear their name, to dispel suspicion.
When she finally laid the brush aside, Ma Wan breathed softly, her brows filled with quiet hope.
Perhaps Heaven truly favored her — perhaps it would grant her a path where both loyalty and love could coexist.
Since her marriage, all had gone well. Her mother-in-law, though ill, treated her kindly.
The Prince himself, of royal birth, was tolerant and unpretentious, imposing few restraints upon her.
And her husband… had never spoken a harsh word. When busy, he reminded her to care for herself; when free, he played the flute to accompany her reading.
If there was any faint sorrow in her heart, it was only when she heard others speak — too often — of the Ningyuan General.
It was not that others meant to provoke her. The woman’s deeds were simply too dazzling to ignore — a young lady who, by her own strength, had won glory in battle.
Truly a woman worthy of his heart.
She knew she could never compare.
And she knew that somewhere in her husband’s heart, that woman’s shadow still lingered.
But she had no right to complain — he had never lied to her. This path was her own choice.
And now… things were good.
Last night, he had whispered again and again that he wanted a child — their child.
Whatever the past had been, she and he were fated companions, husband and wife.
One day, with a child between them, they would even share blood — bound as true family.
Ma Wan placed a gentle hand upon her still-flat belly, eyes glowing with hope.
“Congratulations, Great Khan! From the pulse, the Queen’s pregnancy is over two months along!”
In the royal palace of Tuyuhun, northwest of Yizhou, the air rang with rejoicing.
“Congratulations to the Khan!”
Murum Yun, ruler of Tuyuhun, beamed with joy as he clasped the Queen’s hand. “Princess — we are to have a child!”
Ming Luo inclined her head slightly, a faint smile upon her lips.
The man before her — open-faced, simple, easily read — was both her husband and Tuyuhun’s ruler, the “talented warrior and statesman” her aunt had so often praised.
At least that much had been true: he treated her with respect, never daring the slightest offense.
She was the County Princess Gu of Da Sheng, raised by the Holy Emperor herself.
Tuyuhun was but a vassal state living under Da Sheng’s shadow; her marriage here was a gift, one for which he should feel eternal gratitude.
She could see his joy was genuine. He should be joyful — he should be honored.
Murum Yun was more than ten years her elder, already past thirty, with sons of twelve and seven.
But those low-born whelps could never compare to the blood she now carried within her.
When the attendants had withdrawn, Ming Luo gently touched her abdomen and murmured, “You must be a son. Otherwise, you will be of no use to me — and should never have come into this world. Do you understand?”
She despised this barren, savage land — so coarse beside the capital’s splendor.
She despised Murum Yun — his dullness, his simpering eagerness to please, made her stomach turn.
Compared to him, even the courtiers who once flattered her in Da Sheng were admirable men — and as for Cui Jing, Murum Yun could never hope to match him.
But she endured. Because she wanted power.
In these six months, she had helped govern Tuyuhun’s affairs, earning some reputation among its ministers — yet to her, it was far from enough.
She would seize every shred of power she could.
No one would ever cast her down again — not the aunt who had discarded her, nor Chang Suining, who had overturned her destiny.
Her slender fingers tightened over her abdomen.
The embroidered feathers on her robe distorted under her grasp, twisting into the shape of a winged creature ready to strike.
At dawn in the capital, a carriage procession departed from Anyi Ward, rolling down the long streets toward the city gate.
“They’re here!”
Waiting beyond the gate, Hu Yi called out, “The Cui family’s carriage — it’s coming!”
Qiao Yubai and several students of the Imperial Academy quickly stepped forward.
“My lady—”
Xiao Qiu, standing by the carriage, saw the curtain lift swiftly from within.
She hurried forward to help Qiao Yumian alight.
(4,300 characters updated — good night!)
Chapter 317: Only She Deserves to Stand Beside Him (求月票)
“The boy has come.”
The man turned around. His face, though past forty, still bore traces of youthful grace, unmarred by the looseness of age.
His brows and eyes bore a striking resemblance to those of Li Lu — they were father and son indeed.
This man was Prince Rong, Li Yin.
Prince Rong sat at the stone table beneath the ginkgo tree. He lifted the teapot with unhurried grace and poured into two cups. The sound of flowing tea was soft and pleasant; rising steam curled between them as his movements flowed like water — natural, elegant, and composed.
Li Lu stepped forward and, after bowing, sat opposite his father.
The prince poured two full cups before setting the pot down and pushing one cup gently toward his son.
“Thank you, Father.” Li Lu received it respectfully.
By custom, it should have been the son who served tea, but his father never cared for such trivialities.
Having spent many years in the capital before returning to Yizhou the previous year, he seemed unchanged despite the long separation.
In childhood, Li Lu had often thought his father unlike the other imperial princes — freer, more like a wandering swordsman, unconcerned with rank or formality, living above worldly dust.
And if even his own son saw him that way, how much more must others have thought so?
Li Lu took a few sips of tea before speaking. “Father, the noble clans of Luoyang and Xingyang have dispersed, and Cui Jing has been expelled from the Cui family. Now—”
“I already know of these matters,” Prince Rong interrupted softly. “There is no need to dwell on them. Tell me instead about this Ningyuan General.”
He had long been familiar with that young woman’s name.
But it was only after a series of incidents — each overturning his plans — that he began to take her seriously.
Such a person, a mere seventeen-year-old girl who rose out of nowhere and continually changed the course of events… how could she not stir one’s curiosity?
Li Lu inclined his head.
He skipped the tales everyone already knew and began from their first encounter in the capital the previous year.
At Dayun Temple, she tamed the raging sacred elephant.
By the river behind the temple, they first spoke face to face.
Then came the Polo match at the Imperial Academy, the painting contest at Dengtai Tower, and the day she tamed the late Crown Prince’s warhorse in the Hibiscus Garden’s training field.
He proposed marriage at the hibiscus feast — she refused.
Later, when Chang Sui’an was unjustly imprisoned, she declined his offer to work together to save him. Instead, at the Confucian Ceremony in the Temple of Learning, she forced the Holy Emperor to yield through her own design.
And finally —
She pretended to consider his proposal, then on the boat seized him and leapt into the water, escaping with Fan Ou. Using the truth of the Prince of Huainan’s death as leverage, she forced him to spare General Chang Kuo.
Prince Rong set down his cup halfway through, his gaze thoughtful.
“So, that young lady — it seems she can always turn a dead end into life through unthinkable means… and to tame Ah Xiao’s warhorse, that is no small feat.”
“Judging from her character and conduct,” Li Lu said, “when she swore to kill Xu Zhengye within seventy-three days, it was neither boasting nor gambling — she truly believed she could do it.”
Prince Rong’s brow arched slightly. “But…”
As he spoke, a green ginkgo leaf fluttered down from above. Before it could touch the tea, he flicked his sleeve — the leaf drifted aside and landed near Li Lu’s feet.
Trained in martial arts since youth, his perception and reflexes were unmatched.
His thoughts did not pause. “But before last year, she had never once been on the battlefield. From where came such confidence — such absolute conviction that she could kill Xu Zhengye?”
Was she, as the rumors said, a born general?
He had met such people before — with an arrogance born not of ignorance, but of power — like his niece, Li Shang.
Yet even Li Shang had built her fearlessness upon ten years of relentless discipline. None were born invincible.
True confidence comes only from experience — from a record of victories.
So this young woman of the Chang family was far from simple… and perhaps even more peculiar.
“In any case,” he murmured, “such a figure appears once in a century.”
A faint sigh followed. “She should have married into our Rong Prince’s household, to walk the great path beside us. A pity…”
“Father.”
Sensing the murderous intent in his father’s tone, Li Lu quickly interjected, “It was my own misstep. I pressed too hard and provoked her, which caused her resentment and made the marriage impossible.”
“Chang Suining’s displeasure lies only with my manner, not with the Rong Prince’s household itself,” he said earnestly. “Please, Father, give the Chang family another chance.”
Prince Rong poured fresh tea, thinking.
Li Lu continued, “Over these years, most of the capable commanders under the feudal lords have been purged by the Empress. That is why you have long urged me to win over General Chang Kuo.
“But now it seems the Chang family offers not one, but three worth cultivating — General Chang Kuo, his daughter Chang Suining, and his son Chang Sui’an, who also shows great promise. The Chang family is worthy of our patience.”
Prince Rong remained silent, sipping tea.
Li Lu pressed on. “Besides, after the wrongful imprisonment of Chang Sui’an, the rift between the Chang family and the Empress can never be mended. When a ruler suspects and a subject loses trust, loyalty dies. The Changs will not remain without a second allegiance — they must be watching and waiting.”
“When the time comes and the tide turns, if Father extends goodwill, the Chang family will surely align with us.”
He was certain of it. For in the coming upheaval, the Changs would have no better choice.
If they did not submit to the rightful Li clan, would they rebel and crown themselves?
This was still Li family’s empire. For an outsider to revolt without foundation or legitimacy — that would be madness and self-destruction.
Xu Zhengye’s fall was merely one piece removed from the board — the game itself remained unchanged.
This empire was destined to return to the House of Rong.
And she — was destined to be his.
All his life, he desired only what stood at the highest peak — the most useful, the most glorious.
The higher she rose, the more exceptional she appeared; and the more exceptional she became, the stronger his desire grew.
That desire had taken root the moment she shot back his marriage letter — and with each passing day, it deepened.
She never ceased to surprise him; each time he saw her anew, he realized he had underestimated her once more.
And such a woman — only she deserved to stand beside him.
He would never allow his father to kill her.
Prince Rong smiled faintly. “You seem particularly invested in this young lady.”
“Yes,” Li Lu replied calmly. “Because she is worth it. I believe that, should you one day meet her, you will think the same.”
Prince Rong chuckled. “Very well. Let us test her — see how much courage she truly has.”
If she dared to become another Xu Zhengye, then perhaps she could finish what Xu Zhengye could not.
This realm was a feast, and he needed ambitious souls to stir its chaos — only in chaos could a savior emerge.
He had spent ten years preparing to be that savior.
Hearing his father’s consent, Li Lu smiled. “Father, she will not disappoint you.”
Then he raised another matter. “Father, about Cui Jing…”
The affair in Taiyuan had failed, and the recent assassination attempt as well.
“Two failures in short succession — best to remain still for now,” Prince Rong mused. “That man is far from ordinary. We must not underestimate him. But since the Cui clan has now expelled him, we shall first observe how the Empress reacts.”
“Yes,” said Li Lu. “But I fear Cui Jing may already suspect Father’s involvement. If he reveals this to the Cui family, and they learn you once sought his death—”
“Let them know.” Prince Rong laughed softly. “I wished him dead for my own reasons, not against the Cui clan itself. And in any case, there are no eternal enemies in this world. The Cuis would not spurn the Rong Prince’s house over such trifles. Their kind endure a century precisely because they put interest above sentiment.”
Li Lu hesitated, then asked, “And the Empress? Fan Ou is still in Chang Suining’s hands. She is perceptive — if she uncovers our agents and exposes the Rong Prince’s schemes…”
“If she is truly clever,” said Prince Rong with calm amusement, “she will realize that revealing or concealing changes nothing. Xu Zhengye is dead, Li Tong slain — the facts already exist. There is no new value in repeating them.”
Did she really think the Holy Emperor needed her to tell her such things?
The Empress’s suspicion of the Rong Prince’s house had never once waned.
“Would the Holy Emperor truly move against us over rumors that anyone could invent?” he said lightly. “Without irrefutable proof, any rash accusation would only make her look like a tyrant bent on destroying the imperial clan.
“And even if she did strike — times have changed. A single decree cannot kill me now.”
When decrees ceased to command obedience, the emperor’s authority began to crumble.
And that collapse had already begun, unseen.
Would he now meekly enter the capital to face judgment? Ignore all voices calling to restore the Li lineage’s rightful power?
If she forced a confrontation, she would only hasten her own downfall.
No — it was not the Rong Prince’s house that should fear.
“The world is no longer as it once was,” he said gently. “You are safe here with me now. This is no longer the weak, cornered Rong Prince’s estate it once was.”
His eyes softened with rare guilt. “You have suffered much in the capital, my son.”
Li Lu lowered his gaze. “As heir to the Rong Prince’s house, it is my duty to share Father’s burdens.”
The prince nodded approvingly. “When the great endeavor is complete, half the merit shall be yours.”
The two continued their quiet talk over tea for a long while.
Then a young man in blue military garb approached and bowed. “My Lord, Young Master.”
Prince Rong looked up. “Yi Cong, you’ve returned.”
Li Lu rose at once. “It’s getting late; I won’t disturb Father further.”
“Take care of your health,” said the prince. “Remember your medicine and rest early.”
Li Lu bowed and withdrew. Passing by the young man, he paused for a moment.
Yi Cong saluted. “Safe journey, Young Master.”
Li Lu inclined his head and left with his servant.
After several steps, he turned and looked back.
Prince Rong and Yi Cong were walking together toward the study.
Yi Cong was barely seventeen or eighteen — still a youth, though with a steadiness that made him seem older.
It was said he had been with the prince for five years and was much favored, often assisting with military matters.
Watching them disappear into the study, Li Lu turned back. His servant quickly averted his eyes, but Li Lu asked quietly, “What is it? You’ve heard that rumor too?”
The servant paled and bowed hurriedly. “This humble one dares not! I know nothing—”
Li Lu smiled faintly but said nothing more, resuming his steps.
The servant, anxious to recover, offered softly, “The wind is rising, Young Master. You mustn’t catch a chill. Allow me to accompany you back to your quarters.”
Li Lu smiled again and nodded. “Very well.”
As they walked, he slowly turned his hands under his cloak. They were thin, pale, almost sickly — hands that looked incapable of harm.
Once, that frailty had been the perfect disguise in the capital.
But now that he had returned to Yizhou, it was a burden.
His father’s aides often looked at him with silent doubt and pity.
He knew he would not die easily, but in their eyes, his life already burned short. They could not entrust their hopes to one so frail.
He needed something more enduring — something others could see.
By the time he returned to his residence, dusk had fallen. Maids were lighting lamps throughout the courtyard.
At the sound of footsteps, Lan Ying, the maid of his wife Ma Wan, hurried inside to whisper, “My lady — the Young Master has returned!”
Though married into the Rong Prince’s household for half a year, Lan Ying still habitually called her mistress “My lady.”
Ma Wan’s face changed at once. Startled, she hastily rolled up the letter she’d been reading and slipped it into a jade vase by the window.
Moments later, footsteps approached.
She composed herself and curtsied as Li Lu entered. “My lord, you’ve returned.”
Li Lu smiled gently and took her hand. “Wan’er, what were you just doing?”
Chapter 316: All of This Was His Doing (Supplementary Chapter — 5,000 Words)
Deputy Commander Dong pressed his lips tightly together, his eyes locked on the young woman seated before him, as if trying to discern some clue from her calm expression.
“If you and your men truly served Xu Zhengye,” said Chang Suining lightly, “then as you said, since your master is already dead, why risk killing that man to silence him? What secrets could there still be to protect?”
Her gaze shifted briefly to the corpse lying on the floor.
Dong sneered. “I only feared he would expose me.”
“If it were only that,” she replied, “you could have escaped long before. Why come here to throw yourself into the net?”
Chang Suining shook her head. “No — the truth is, between the two of you, you were the superior and he the subordinate. If he spoke words that should not be spoken, the fault would fall on you. You would bear punishment. You might escape the army camp, but you cannot escape the hands of your true master. That is why you came, knowing the danger, because you had no choice.”
At her words, the restrained man struggled fiercely. “Let me go!”
To Chang Suining, this struggle was nothing more than the flailing of a man whose fear had been seen through.
She asked softly, “After all this, are you not curious how I learned you were a spy?”
Dong’s eyes flicked up to hers, and she smiled faintly. “Or perhaps you dare not be curious?”
Their gazes met, silent tension thickening between them.
She did not rush — simply waited, letting quiet and time gnaw away at his composure.
How had she come to suspect him?
It began back in the Shouzhou military camp.
When Xiao Min replaced Li Yi as commander, this man had been outwardly respectful, ever ready to serve. Gradually, he had managed to attach himself to Xiao Min’s side — treating him as if he were another Li Yi to manipulate.
He followed orders to the letter, but behind the scenes, whispered poisonous words, trying to sow discord between Xiao Min, her, and old Chang.
But the fool had misjudged everything. The ones he sought to divide were, in truth, of one mind.
And so, the more he whispered, the clearer his guilt became. Xiao Min, instead of being swayed, turned around and warned her and Chang Kuo to be on guard.
Later, when the army temporarily halted its advance, this man had repeatedly inquired about troop movements. Again, Xiao Min secretly reported his behavior.
So when the battle of Bian River began, she and Xiao Min deliberately left him behind in Shouzhou, ordering Chang Kuo to keep watch.
Yet somehow, another spy — Zhong Si — emerged instead.
After their victory, when matters finally calmed, she decided to investigate both cases thoroughly.
She sent men back to Xuanzhou to fetch Fan Ou, while also writing to Chang Kuo — thus, it was Chang Kuo who instructed this same Deputy Commander Dong to deliver a message to the Bianzhou camp.
This entire “mission,” in fact, had been her trap. She had privately informed Xiao Min, giving Dong the very chance to volunteer for the escort.
And as expected, he took the bait.
The result of that test was now before her eyes.
That was the truth — yet at this moment, truth was useless. What she needed was a lie convincing enough to break him.
“Someone had already told me your true identity long ago,” she said evenly.
Dong gave a low, disdainful laugh.
“You don’t believe me?” she asked, then turned to the doorway. “Bring him in.”
Moments later, Jian Tong entered, escorting another man — with Chang Sui'an following close behind.
The newcomer was forced to his knees beside Dong.
It was Fan Ou.
He knelt weakly, both hands on the ground, his hair and beard disheveled, his face haggard beyond recognition.
Dong turned his head briefly, glanced once, and looked away. His expression did not change. No shock, no panic — only cold contempt. “I don’t know this man.”
At Chang Suining’s signal, Jian Tong took a token from Fan Ou’s robe and tossed it to the ground before Dong.
“Careless of me,” she said lightly, “he’s become a bit unkempt — not easy to recognize. But surely, you recognize the token of the Prince of Rong’s residence?”
Dong stared straight ahead, jaw clenched. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Ah,” said Chang Suining softly, “so when I captured Fan Ou, Li Lu must have immediately sent word across the network — to warn every hidden agent that I might use Fan Ou’s name against you. No wonder you aren’t surprised to see him here.”
Fan Ou, after all, had been one of Li Lu’s most trusted aides in the Prince of Rong’s household. She remembered Li Lu saying that Fan Ou had once been responsible for liaising with the army’s internal agents during the late Prince of Huainan’s birthday celebrations.
Such a man’s capture would have shaken any cautious leader — and Li Lu was nothing if not cautious.
Dong said nothing. He only sneered, as though dismissing her words as fabrication.
But Chang Suining went on calmly, “So, Li Lu must have also told you that Fan Ou’s mouth is sealed — that he would never betray you. You were told not to panic, only to stay alert… am I right?”
At that, Dong’s expression flickered. Her words were too precise — as if she had overheard the conversation itself.
“The man is stubborn indeed,” she continued lazily, reclining in her chair, “but perseverance wins all things. And he did not merely name you—”
Fan Ou lifted his head with effort, glaring up at her — teeth gritted in mute fury at the lies she spoke.
She met his gaze, smiling as though amused.
Then, in a clear voice, she began to list the “confessions” she had fabricated.
“You secretly passed messages to Li Yi,” she said, “warning him that His Majesty planned to replace General He Wei, thus allowing Li Yi to set an ambush and kill He Wei — that’s one crime.”
“You poisoned Prince of Huainan Li Tong, nearly causing Huainan Circuit to fall — that’s another.”
“You leaked the Imperial army’s grain-transport routes to Xu Zhengye, leading to the ambush and loss of provisions — a third.”
The more Dong listened, the darker his face grew. He turned sharply toward Fan Ou — and the man said nothing.
Not a single word of denial.
Fan Ou turned his head toward him, eyes wide and desperate — he wanted to refute her lies, but whatever drug had been forced upon him rendered him utterly mute.
He had said nothing!
He tried to convey this through his eyes, but Deputy Commander Dong could not understand.
Yet that clear, unhurried voice continued:
“Also—when the Military Governor of Hedong, Xiao Chuan, lured Grand General Cui Jing to Bingzhou under false pretenses, claiming to handle the case of Prefect Dai Cong, he was plotting to seize Taiyuan. When his plan failed, he blamed it all on Xu Zhengye, saying he had been Xu’s co-conspirator… Tell me, how many crimes has Xu Zhengye been made to bear for your Prince of Rong’s residence?”
Fan Ou’s eyes widened in shock — How could she even know of this?!
Chang Suining met his gaze, smiling faintly with a knowing arch of her brow.
Fan Ou’s expression collapsed.
This treacherous woman was baiting him — testing his reactions!
Deputy Commander Dong’s face, however, had already changed completely. He turned toward Fan Ou, rage blazing in his eyes — this man had betrayed the Prince!
Fan Ou glared back fiercely, nearly frantic. You fool—!
Chang Suining did not think Deputy Commander Dong was truly stupid. If he had been, she would not have needed to expend such effort.
After all, she had spoken so many secrets, and Fan Ou had not denied a single word —
and given Dong’s position as a Sixth-Rank officer within the army, while Fan Ou served mostly in Yizhou, the two had little direct contact. He would not know how firm Fan Ou’s loyalty truly ran.
If Li Lu had nine parts of trust in Fan Ou, then Dong would have had, at most, two.
Now that small measure of trust had wavered — just as she intended.
Sowing discord was an art in which she had always excelled.
And now, she decided to strike the final spark.
“Fan Ou also told me,” she said softly, “that your Prince of Rong doesn’t only covet Taiyuan — the cradle of the dragon’s pulse — but also Grand General Cui Jing’s life.”
Her fingertip tapped the scabbard beside her.
“Before the battle at Bian River, it was thanks to Fan Ou’s warning that I sent word to Cui Jing in time — otherwise, he would have fallen to your assassins.”
As she spoke, Ah Che dragged a nearly lifeless black-clad man from the inner room.
The man lay on the ground, his breath faint. Ah Che pulled up his sleeve, revealing the tattoo on his inner arm — the secret sigil used only by the Prince of Rong’s death guards.
Chang Suining herself might not have known what it meant. Cui Jing, too, was unaware.
But Deputy Commander Dong recognized it at a glance.
He had worked closely with these men for years — this tattoo was how they verified one another’s identity.
Hearing her claim that Fan Ou had exposed the assassination plot, seeing that mark before him — the evidence piled upon confusion — Dong could no longer restrain his reaction.
Her words made him move; his movement confirmed her words.
The answer in Chang Suining’s heart settled.
Fan Ou’s jaw clenched so tightly he nearly shattered his teeth.
This woman’s schemes nested one inside another — she had ensnared them all with nothing but air!
Her gaze swept slowly over the three men — Fan Ou, Dong, and the dying assassin.
Any one of them alone would have taken half a day of interrogation to extract even a sliver of uncertain truth.
Together, they had revealed it all within moments.
Finally, she looked to Deputy Commander Dong. “You serve the Prince of Rong,” she said. “Will you still deny it?”
Dong said nothing, his face set and dark.
“If you still refuse,” she said evenly, “then I’ll simply deliver all three of you — along with Fan Ou’s confession — to the Holy Emperor. That, too, would count as great merit.”
Her tone now held no hint of patience. “Men—”
“Wait!” Dong shouted, breaking her command.
She looked toward him.
He glanced around, confirming that those present were all her loyal aides, then said at last, “General Ningyuan, you are a clever woman. Why be so blind? Why cling to that dying demon-empress and stand against my Prince?”
Fan Ou shut his eyes in despair.
Chang Suining’s finger, still resting lightly upon her sword, went still.
Her doubts were gone.
So—it truly was him.
The unseen hand that stirred the chaos from the shadows.
The one who delighted in upheaval, who sought to tear the realm apart.
He was Li Yin—her uncle.
Her free-spirited, unambitious uncle, the one who had once taught her how to protect herself, who had once laughed and said they were “kindred souls in misfortune.”
Dong went on heatedly, “The demon-empress has lost Heaven’s mandate! Her reign is ending! My Prince alone bears the true blood of the Li clan!”
“My Prince has always respected Grand General Chang,” he pressed. “You could achieve great things together!”
Chang Sui'an frowned deeply, glancing at his sister.
“Respected?” Chang Suining echoed with a faint smile. “Do you mean the way the Prince’s heir repeatedly threatened my father’s and brother’s lives?”
The Prince of Rong’s household, while pretending alliance, had sought to manipulate General Chang Kuo — respected by all within the Xuanzhe Army — while secretly plotting to kill Cui Jing and seize control of his men.
The scattered clues now wove themselves into a single, sinister design.
But they had failed — the Chang family was too loyal to be swayed, and Cui Jing far too difficult to kill.
Their plan to seize Taiyuan had collapsed, their attempt to let Xu Zhengye plunge the world into chaos had crumbled as well.
“Those who achieve greatness do not quibble over trifles,” Dong said coldly. “General Ningyuan, this concerns the survival of your clan. Ask General Chang himself — let him decide!”
“So,” she said softly, “what you mean is: submit and live, or defy and die?”
Her gaze turned faintly sharp. “Even now, with your life in my hands, you dare to threaten me. Is this the arrogance of your Prince’s household?”
It had never been about “shared enterprise.” They merely wanted the Chang family to wield the blade on their behalf — to die for them if need be.
From that arrogance, she could see clearly how vast the Prince’s hidden strength must already be.
“Do not act out of pride, General Ningyuan,” Dong said, the corner of his mouth twisting in disdain. “Such matters should be left for your father to decide.”
“What great matter?” she replied lightly. “A trivial one like this — I can decide it myself.”
He frowned, opening his mouth to argue — but she cut him off:
“I could consider your offer,” she said, “if you answer one question.”
Seeing hope, he steadied himself. “Ask.”
“Who,” she asked, “is the most secret spy the Prince of Rong has planted beside the Holy Emperor?”
“This kind of matter,” he said at once, “is beyond me. I merely follow orders. If you truly wish to cooperate, you may ask the Prince or his heir yourself.”
Ask them? she thought. As if I would ever kneel to such men.
Chang Suining rose to her feet. “Since you don’t know, there’s no point continuing.”
He stared in disbelief. “You treat such a matter so lightly—?”
But she had already crossed the threshold, sword in hand, her voice cool and unhurried as she gave her order:
“Take them away. Kill them all.”
“Yes, General!”
Chang Sui'an stood frozen, watching her departing figure.
This sister of his — he had never seen her like this before. Words like “calm” or “resolute” seemed far too pale to describe her now.
Then her voice drifted back: “Leave Fan Ou alive. See to his recovery.”
Dong’s face turned bloodless with disbelief.
Moments later, he and the assassin were dragged away, the corpse lifted soon after.
Fan Ou, watching them go, felt a pitiful surge of envy — for once, he wanted to be among those carried off.
He didn’t want to stay. He didn’t want to heal.
But Jian Tong gripped his arms and dragged him from the hall as he sagged bonelessly, despair hollowing him out.
After arranging everything, Chang Sui'an hurried to catch up with his sister. “Ning Ning…”
“If you have time,” she said, turning to him, “go to Grand General Cui and tell him everything we learned today.”
“Oh—yes!” He agreed quickly. He wanted to say more, but the words failed him.
She paused, met his eyes, and said quietly, “Don’t worry, Brother. No one will ever again decide for the Chang family. From this day forward, we will decide our own path.”
Sunlight streamed through the trees, gilding her face and eyes with molten gold.
He remembered the prison, the chains that bound him, and how she had broken them — how she had led him from that cage of injustice.
Now, her words felt like a promise: that there would be no more chains, no more cages.
He realized suddenly that it was his sister who had been protecting him — and she had done so well.
But he did not want her to stand alone against the storm.
That thought, half-formed before, now hardened into resolve.
The world was chaos, every man and woman grasping for power — and if they wished to stand firm, they must become strong themselves.
His eyes reddened as he nodded fiercely. “Yes… from now on, we decide for ourselves!”
If strength was what it took to do so, then he would grow strong — quickly.
He might not be as brilliant as his sister, but as her elder brother, he would not be found wanting.
Under the bright sun, the siblings exchanged a smile.
And beyond his shoulder, Chang Suining squinted toward the blazing golden sun — her decision clear at last.
Since the storm of fate could not be avoided — since no one could remain untouched — and since she refused to entrust her dignity, her loved ones, or the crumbling realm itself to those she despised…
Then she would take it upon herself.
After all — she could trust herself.
…
A gentle breeze stirred the ginkgo leaves, scattering shimmering patches of light.
Beneath that dappled shade stood a man, his face half-lit, half-shadowed.
His hair was neatly bound, his dark blue robe flowing, his bearing serene — as if the tree and the man together formed a painting of tranquil grace.
This was Yizhou — the Prince of Rong’s residence.
Footsteps sounded.
“Father.”
A tall, lean young man in a cloak stepped forward and bowed deeply to him.
(End of Chapter 317)
Chapter 315: Stop Acting (6,000-Word Bonus Chapter)
Chang Suining personally escorted Zheng Chao on his departure, with Yuan Xiang and several guards following at a measured distance — close enough to protect, far enough not to intrude upon conversation.
This was the temporary office of Cui Jing, the Grand General. Though staff were few, the defenses were tight; apart from the patrolling Xuanzhe Army, not a single idle soul could be seen along the way.
Zheng Chao expressed his gratitude.
The world believed that it had been he who had “righteously slain his own kin” — killing Zheng Ji for the greater good. But only he knew that everything had begun from the moment this General Ningyuan had appeared before him with Ling’an, asking softly, “Does Master Zheng know how to kill a man?”
From that moment onward, the fate of the Zheng clan and of the descendants of the Luoyang Aristocratic clans had changed completely.
“This humble one shall remember the General’s grace all my life,” said Zheng Chao, stopping upon a moss-green stone path to bow. “Should the General ever have need of me in the future, I shall not refuse.”
Chang Suining lifted a hand to motion him upright, smiling gently. “Master Zheng is too polite.”
Polite indeed — yet she truly loved this sort of politeness between people.
In her experience, everyone who had ever told her, “If ever you have need of me…” ended up being of use to her one way or another.
To forge good relations had been her lifelong pursuit — and, if she were honest, her most pragmatic one.
Meeting the sincere smile in the young woman’s eyes, Zheng Chao felt a faint chill run down the back of his neck despite the midsummer noon heat.
Without knowing why, he asked, “Now that all is settled here, may I ask where the General Ningyuan plans to go next?”
Chang Suining continued walking as she answered calmly, “Before long, I shall proceed to Jiangdu under imperial order to join my father and wipe out the remnants of Xu Zhengye’s forces across the south.”
That plan had been made long before the floods, only delayed by the disaster.
Xu Zhengye’s surviving troops were scattered not only in Jiangdu and Yangzhou but also in Jinling and Jiangning. When she and Xiao Min had laid their ambush at Bian River, they had left only a small number of men under Chang Kuo’s command. And with the floods devastating the southern lands, recovery had been slow.
“Xu Zhengye is dead, and the Aristocratic clans that conspired with him in the Central Plains have been exiled,” Zheng Chao said. “To pacify the south is only a matter of time… Yet after this calamity, I fear Jiangnan may never again be what it once was.”
He sighed. Who could say whether the south would ever be given time to heal?
When Xu Zhengye first rebelled, his sword had fallen upon Jiangdu and Yangzhou — slaying the local officials almost to a man. The offices of Chief Secretary, Prefect, and Governor lay vacant.
Yangzhou now was like a wounded giant, and wounded giants drew wolves.
Thus, Zheng Chao reasoned, when the city was finally reclaimed, the appointment of new officials — whether they had the heart to rebuild and the strength to hold it — would determine the fate of the entire south.
He spoke with wistful emotion, recalling the Jiangnan of his youth — seasons like paintings, prosperous and tranquil, steeped in learning and grace.
“In my memory,” he said softly, “the place I most longed to see was always Jiangnan.”
Chang Suining turned slightly, gazing toward the direction of Jiangnan, her lips curving. “I like it very much too.”
The casual tone of her reply somehow chilled Zheng Chao more than any solemn vow could have. He sensed that her “like” and his “like” were of entirely different kinds.
His “like” meant ‘It is a beautiful land; I admire it.’
Her “like” sounded far more like ‘It is a beautiful land — and I want it.’
That subtle realization made his heart thud, a faint alarm bell ringing in his mind.
Then she spoke again, her tone still mild: “When Jiangnan is restored, Master Zheng should visit and lecture there as my guest. I shall receive you personally.”
Guest?
Receive him personally?
That was unmistakably the tone of a host.
The alarm in Zheng Chao’s mind went from ringing to clanging — clang, clang, clang! Sparks all but flew.
If before she had merely wanted Jiangnan, this sentence made it sound as though she already had a sack ready and was tossing the whole region into it.
Seeing him fall silent, Chang Suining turned her head. “Master Zheng?”
Zheng Chao snapped back to himself and forced a smile. “I would not miss it for the world.”
She returned the smile — serene, knowing.
Their gazes met. Zheng Chao’s thoughts spun swiftly. He remembered the young man he had seen earlier in the Grand General’s quarters — that Chang family son. Could it be that the Changs too harbor ambitions to claim a share of this chaotic world?
Yet this General Ningyuan was anything but reckless. If she did harbor such designs, why reveal them to him?
Was she planting seeds for a future alliance?
As he pondered, she spoke again — as though discussing the weather. “And what does Master Zheng make of the world’s current state?”
Her tone was so calm that it felt like she was asking whether tomorrow would be sunny or rainy.
Zheng Chao instinctively glanced around before answering in a low sigh, “The world is already in chaos, and Her Majesty concerns herself only with consolidating power, acting too harshly. Of course, for a woman of foreign blood to claim the throne, fierce decisiveness was needed — otherwise, she could never have secured it.”
He shook his head slowly. “But when the Son of Heaven cares only for power, who then will care for the peace of the realm?”
Since her ascension, the Holy Emperor had ruled through suppression — cleansing her court, cutting down vassal princes and generals she could not control, executing royal kin under real or fabricated charges, ever balancing one power against another. Every decree served the sole purpose of strengthening the throne.
Her methods had worked. For thirteen years, she had held the realm firmly in her hands — an achievement even the Li bloodline might not have managed. Her vigilance and resolve were, in Zheng Chao’s eyes, admirable.
But such methods sowed seeds that must one day erupt.
Her destruction of the Aristocratic clans’ foundation had only hastened the storm to come.
“The so-called rebellion of the Aristocratic clans is but one part,” he continued. “In Dao Prefecture, farmers have risen in revolt. The vassal princes grow restless. Foreign tribes eye our borders like tigers.”
Even this single “clan rebellion” had left the court overwhelmed, unable to fill vacant posts or quell uprisings quickly, its decrees trapped in paralysis.
“When decrees no longer flow,” said Zheng Chao, “it is like a river dammed by flood — pressure builds until the banks collapse.”
He shook his head. The sickness was deep; the tide irreversible. Not even the Emperor, he believed, could turn it back.
“If the realm must break,” he said quietly, “then may it at least be rebuilt — may someone arise to gather the chaos and win back the hearts of all, saving the people from fire and flood.”
For the common folk, it mattered little who ruled, so long as they might live in peace.
He was, after all, just one among those common souls now.
Hearing such sincerity, Chang Suining’s tone grew almost daring. “And tell me, Master Zheng — in your eyes, is there anyone capable of uniting the realm?”
Behind them, Yuan Xiang and the guards followed at a respectful eight paces. The topic was perilous, yet their voices were low; beneath her composure, Chang Suining’s alertness ensured no third party could overhear.
Zheng Chao gave a short laugh and shook his head. “I have been confined in Xingyang too long to judge men. I dare not presume.”
Chang Suining smiled faintly. “Then your forthcoming travels will be a fine opportunity to observe.”
Zheng Chao hurriedly protested, “General, please — mind your words. I am only going to lecture, nothing more!”
To be mistaken for someone seeking a master to serve in rebellion — that would be a disaster!
“Do not be alarmed,” she said calmly. “My words will go no further. I merely ask that, should you truly meet someone capable of restoring unity to the realm, you would kindly inform me.”
Her words made Zheng Chao’s heart pound again.
Inform her? For what purpose?
To join that person… or to kill him first?
The question was too frightening to dwell upon. And yet perhaps the more important question was this — what if such a person never appeared at all?
Chang Suining seemed to ponder the same.
As things stood, none of the figures on the board seemed adequate.
Some, like Crown Prince Li Zhi, lacked the ability to rule.
Some, like those manipulating chaos from the shadows, lacked virtue.
Others, still rising and untested, lacked foundation.
If no one proved worthy — if there were none she could entrust with the Da Sheng Dynasty’s rivers and mountains, none she could trust with the fate of all its people —
Then perhaps, she thought quietly, it was time she seriously considered other possibilities.
Zheng Chao could not quite tell what exactly the General Ningyuan meant by her words “inform me.”
But he nodded anyway.
The topic was growing ever more perilous, so he seized the first chance to change it.
“By the way,” he said, “I have here a letter that must be handed to the General.”
As he spoke, Zheng Chao reached into his robe — only to draw out several silver drafts first. His face reddened. There really were too many; he would have to find a proper bundle to keep them in later.
After rummaging a while longer, he finally produced a letter and passed it to Chang Suining.
The letter had been given to him on the road from the Zheng estate to this place — sent from Luoyang.
It was a letter of gratitude from Yuan Miao, the young fugitive from an Aristocratic clan whom Chang Suining had once saved.
Yuan Miao’s parents and grandfather had all died in prison. In the letter she wrote that her younger brother had lost two fingers but survived by fortune. She and the remaining Yuan clansmen were soon to be exiled from Luoyang; unable to thank the General in person, she vowed that one day she and her brother would repay the debt.
That night, when Chang Suining and Cui Jing had secretly discussed plans with Zheng Chao, Yuan Miao had been present. Others did not know, but she understood well what kind of grace her family owed those three.
One was reviled by the world.
One had been expelled from his clan.
And one’s deeds remained hidden, unspoken.
But she would remember — and she would tell her brother — and they would remember forever.
Reading the final four characters, “Until We Meet Again,” Chang Suining folded the letter and tucked it away.
“Speaking of which, I too must thank Master Zheng,” she said, meeting his questioning gaze before glancing toward the Wanmin Umbrella he carried. “Had you not pulled me along that day to pray together, I would not have gained a Wanmin Umbrella for free.”
One umbrella was nothing much — and yet it had made her a figure in every storyteller’s mouth.
Zheng Chao chuckled. “As the saying goes, blessings are meant to be shared.”
In truth, sharing blessings was false; sharing danger was the truth. He had not prayed in hopes of success that day, only that standing beside someone who could fight might keep him alive.
He added with genuine feeling, “What the General has done far exceeds what Zheng has ever done.”
And so had Ling’an — that poor, wronged nephew of his, bearing so much for others.
Thinking of the unlucky yet still wealthy young man, Zheng Chao sighed meaningfully, choosing his words with care. “The General surely knows — that child, Ling’an, lost his mother early.”
“His father has never been one to tolerate him.”
“And now, stripped from his clan… all alone in this world…”
In short, if that pitiful youth might find someone willing to care for him a little more, it would truly be a blessing.
Chang Suining nodded with an expression of deep sympathy.
The great gate now lay before them; Zheng Chao finally ceased his attempt to win pity for his nephew, bowing in farewell.
Chang Suining returned the bow and watched him depart.
Outside, Ah Che came forward. “General, shall we return?”
Chang Suining nodded absently, then paused mid-thought. “No — I’ve forgotten someone.”
Ah Che blinked. Oh right — the young master!
She had grown so used to her mistress riding out alone that she had nearly forgotten there was still a brother to collect.
Little did she know, when the General had first said “forgot someone,” it had not even been her brother who came to mind.
It was only when Chang Suining stepped back into Cui Jing’s quarters and heard a familiar male voice that she recalled — ah, right, I left my brother here.
She entered and said, “I wish to borrow someone from the Grand General.”
Cui Jing nodded and turned toward Yuan Xiang. “Send the man in secret.”
“?” Yuan Xiang looked utterly bewildered.
Who? Which person?
The Grand General and the Young Miss Chang exchanged looks of unspoken understanding, but he was no mind reader!
Cui Jing noticed his confusion and explained, “The surviving prisoner.”
At last Yuan Xiang understood and went off to make arrangements.
“I shall return now,” said Chang Suining. “Take care of your wounds. Once the interrogation is finished, I’ll let you know the result.”
Cui Jing nodded. “Very well.”
“Brother, let’s go.”
“Ah? Yes!” said Chang Sui'an — still dazed as he rose to bow to Cui Jing.
He had been distracted, wondering why the Grand General — that iron-blooded man — seemed oddly… docile before his sister.
Impossible, he thought. How could “Cui Jing” and “docile” belong in the same breath?
He risked another covert glance, only to find Cui Jing looking straight at him.
The force of that gaze made him instantly avert his eyes and bow out hastily.
Two days earlier, the men Chang Suining had dispatched had returned to the Bianzhou camp.
When Xiao Min received orders that a “traitor” was to be escorted to Xingyang, Deputy Commander Dong volunteered at once.
“Since it is someone the General Ningyuan personally requested,” he said, “we cannot afford any mishap. Allow me to lead the escort.”
He had often followed Xiao Min in Shouzhou, though he had not accompanied him to Bian River. Originally, he was part of Chang Kuo’s pursuit of Xu Zhengye’s forces, and had only recently come to Bianzhou to deliver a message.
Xiao Min, busy with other matters, agreed without hesitation. “Very well. Go swiftly — and let there be no mistakes.”
Dong bowed and departed with a dozen men.
The prisoner, his head covered by a cloth sack, lay limp in the wagon, scarcely stirring.
“Whom are we escorting?” Dong asked in a casual tone along the road.
“You weren’t at the Bian River battle,” one soldier replied softly. “He’s a mid-ranking officer from the central army — surname Zhong. During the fighting, when Deputy Commander Jin was closing in on Xu Zhengye, this man suddenly wounded him and helped the rebel escape.”
Dong’s fingers tightened on his reins.
So it was Zhong Si.
No wonder he hadn’t seen the man in camp lately — he hadn’t died honorably, but been exposed.
“Ah, Xu Zhengye’s inside man,” Dong said, glancing toward the carriage. “But Xu Zhengye is dead, and his comrades purged. Why send such a one to Xingyang instead of simply executing him?”
“General Xiao said the General Ningyuan ordered it personally. We only follow orders.”
“Indeed,” said another. “We obey.”
Dong nodded, saying no more — but inwardly he was calculating.
Zhong Si had been imprisoned for days, tortured until half-insensible. If the General Ningyuan intended some special questioning, the man might say more than he should.
Recalling what Li Yi had secretly told him before his death, Dong made up his mind.
“Dead?”
Back in Xingyang that morning, Chang Suining had only just returned when the escort arrived. They reported that the prisoner she wanted had died on the road.
“How did he die?” she asked, gazing down at the shrouded corpse.
A soldier knelt. “Reporting to the General Ningyuan — the man had been confined for long, eating and drinking little. He was frail, and the jolts of travel proved too much. He must have… perished from weakness.”
The rest dropped to their knees as well.
“It was our failure, General! Please punish us!”
“Truly died of weakness?” Chang Suining drew her sword and flicked away the cloth. The dead man’s face was pale, cheeks sunken. No new wounds were visible. Other than being dead, he looked unremarkable.
“We dare not deceive you!” said one soldier quickly. “If you doubt us, we can call a coroner to examine the body!”
Indeed, none of them had allowed strangers near during the journey.
“Summon a coroner, then…” she nodded lightly. “Though by the time the examination is done, half a day will be gone — half a day for the real culprit to flee.”
At that, all ten men went pale.
“General, we speak the truth!”
They thought her blade was leveled at them all — until they saw where it pointed.
The sword tip was aimed squarely at Deputy Commander Dong.
The men exchanged bewildered glances but dared not utter a sound. They withdrew at once.
“You suspect me?” Dong furrowed his brow. “If I killed him, why would I come here myself instead of escaping on the road?”
Chang Suining laughed softly. “Do you take me for a fool? When the prisoner dies, none of you would want sole blame. Naturally you all watched each other. How could you possibly have fled? Even with fine skill, you’re no match for ten men together.”
She rose slowly, voice calm and sharp as her sword. “By reason alone, all of you could be suspects. If I had never suspected you, I would not have known whom to look to. And even if the coroner proved he was murdered — without evidence, who could single you out?”
Her tone turned colder. “He was but a petty ninth-rank officer. You, however, are a sixth-rank Deputy Commander. Exchanging your life for his — a fair trade, wouldn’t you say? You were afraid he might speak of what he shouldn’t. So you chose to silence him yourself.”
At that single word — exchange — Dong’s eyes widened.
So she had seen through him all along!
She had been waiting for him to deliver himself into her trap.
Before he could think further, killing intent burst from his gaze. His hand struck his sword hilt; the blade leapt from its sheath with a metallic cry as he swung in a desperate strike.
But the girl before him was faster than he had imagined.
She did not dodge — knowing her strength was lesser — but met his blade head-on with both hands gripping her sword.
Steel rang against steel. Dong’s palms numbed from the impact; he stumbled back half a step.
In that instant she withdrew her sword, pivoted, and with a flying kick struck him square in the chest.
He grunted, staggered — turned to flee — but found the doorway blocked as guards poured in from both sides. His weapon was torn from his grip, and in moments he was forced back to his knees before her.
Still he struggled, snarling defiance.
Chang Suining, seated once more, sheathed her sword and said evenly, “Enough. Stop acting. You knew from the start that since I lured you here, I would never let you leave alive.”
“Then kill me!” Dong barked a harsh laugh. “My lord is dead — I’ve no reason to live!”
“Your lord? You mean Xu Zhengye?” she returned the laugh. “He took every sin onto himself for the true master behind you. If he knew, don’t you think he’d crawl from his grave in fury?”
Her eyes sharpened. “You and your kind never truly served Xu Zhengye. Guarding his escape was not loyalty — it was cover. Did you really think me so easy to fool? If I were, why would I have gone to such trouble to bring you here?”
The man’s expression twisted — fear, rage, disbelief all at once.
Chang Suining’s voice remained calm, almost conversational. “So. Stop acting.”
And the room fell utterly silent.
(End of Chapter 315)
Chapter 130: When I Was Young, I Got Water in My Brain
She spoke in a commanding tone and then added, "Qin Yunan, I'm not asking you, I'm informing you—ordering you!"
"I don't get along with your girlfriend. Our energies don't match. You have two choices: one, break up with her. Two, sever ties with us as a family!"
Shen Cheng reached out and touched her forehead, "Are you feverish? No, you're fine, your temperature is normal. Why are you talking nonsense all of a sudden?"
【But this is the best way to help Qin Yunan. After all, geniuses in medicine aren't easy to come by.】
【Should I do a good deed today? To help the people and save this unlucky guy?】
"Brother?" Qin Yunan looked at Huo Xingjian, completely confused.
"What’s the use of calling brother?" Huo Yushu shot him a glare, "Just do as I say. Of course, if you choose option one, I promise our entire family, including Grandpa, will be on the same page."
"Of course, Aunt and Uncle will also stand with us."
Brother, I’m saving you!
You can doubt anyone’s words, but you must listen to your sister-in-law. She is the savior of our entire family!
If you don’t listen to her, just wait to be drained dry by Xu Yunxin and end up crushed like minced meat!
"Sister-in-law, what do you think?" Huo Yushu hooked her arm, "Don't you also find Xu Yunxin familiar? She's just like Li Qingxue, same tricks, same tactics."
"Another scheming white lotus."
Shen Cheng smiled and pressed her lips together, "I don’t find her familiar. It’s our first time meeting. We just exchanged a greeting, so it’s hard to say."
Huo Yushu: "…!"
Hah!
Sister-in-law, you’re unethical! You’re being dishonest!
You’re the chosen one, how could you not know her? Our understanding of her is all thanks to you. Unethical, unethical!
However, she could only complain in her heart, too scared to speak it aloud.
Huo Xingjian patted Qin Yunan's shoulder, his voice serious. "Yushu is also concerned about you, but women are often more perceptive than we are."
"And there's one more thing: when you’re in the thick of it, you can’t see clearly, but outsiders can. Yunan, it’s also good to listen to others' opinions."
"If you're unsure, take your time. Get to know her better. Don't rush in and lose yourself."
"Sometimes, if you pull back some of the feelings and look at them with more rationality, you'll see things more clearly."
Qin Yunan nodded repeatedly, "Yes, brother, you're right. I understand what I need to do now."
"Sister-in-law, there’s a dessert shop over there, let’s go check it out!" Huo Yushu pulled Shen Cheng forward.
She needed to give her brother and second brother some time and space to talk.
"Brother, my sister-in-law..." After seeing Shen Cheng being pulled away by Huo Yushu, Qin Yunan quickly asked, "Is something wrong with my brain? Did I hallucinate? Why… can I hear my sister-in-law’s voice when she didn’t actually say anything?"
"Brother, you and Yushu also...?" He swallowed nervously, carefully asking, "Can you hear it too?"
Huo Xingjian nodded, "Yes, I can hear it. Mom and Grandpa can hear it too."
"Then..."
"Yunan, you might find it hard to believe, but you must listen to your sister-in-law's words. You must believe her," Huo Xingjian interrupted him, his expression serious.
Qin Yunan nodded repeatedly, "Brother, I know, I’ll definitely listen to you..."
"It’s not about listening to me, it’s about listening to your sister-in-law!" Huo Xingjian interrupted him again, speaking with deliberate emphasis.
Qin Yunan looked at him with a confused expression, as though seeing a stranger.
"Brother, you weren’t like this with sister-in-law before! You never..."
"Before is before, now is now. Does a person not have the right to make a mistake once in their life? To get kicked by a donkey once?" Huo Xingjian interrupted him again, glaring at him fiercely.
"Once you clear the water out of your brain, you’ll naturally know what you truly want."
"Qin Yunan, I’m telling you! From now on, treat your sister-in-law with more respect, more courtesy. Otherwise, just wait to be turned into minced meat! No one will come to save you!"
Qin Yunan was still in a daze, but he nodded without hesitation, "Okay, fine."
"When are you planning to return to Tongcheng?" Huo Xingjian asked in a deep voice.
"Brother, I'm still working on research here."
"What research can't be done? Is there no place in Tongcheng? Doesn't Wen's Hospital, owned by the Wen family, give you enough room to work? Why do you have to stay here?"
"Well..."
"I’ll give you another month. After that, you’ll return to Tongcheng, to your own hospital." Huo Xingjian’s voice was cold. "I don’t care if you return alone or with your whole team. It’s just one timeline."
"Brother..."
"That's final! You’ve been here alone, and if anything had happened to you, we wouldn't have known. If it weren’t for running into your sister-in-law today, if you had died, we wouldn’t have known!"
"Grandpa is getting old, it’s time for him to enjoy his life," Huo Xingjian softened his tone but was still firm.
Hearing this, Qin Yunan took a deep breath and nodded, "I understand. I’ll take care of it as soon as possible."
"Good," Huo Xingjian nodded. "And about hearing your sister-in-law’s thoughts, don’t tell anyone. Don’t let her find out, or I’ll kill you first!"
Qin Yunan nodded repeatedly, "I know, I know! I’ll keep it a secret!"
...
Xu Yunxin took a taxi back to her apartment.
Throughout the ride, she kept trying to remember "Huo Xingjian," but couldn’t quite recall who he was.
It wasn’t until she was waiting for the elevator that she overheard a girl on the phone, excitedly saying, "I just got the acceptance letter from Tongcheng Wen’s Group. They want me to report to their company tomorrow!"
That’s when Xu Yunxin suddenly remembered who Huo Xingjian was.
Right, he’s the current highest executive of Tongcheng Wen's Group.
Damn!
Qin Yunan is also part of the Huo family?
Wait, wait!
This is confusing. The top executive of Wen's Group isn’t named Wen, but Huo. And Qin Yunan’s surname is Qin, yet he calls Huo Xingjian "brother."
Xu Yunxin felt her thoughts spinning, her mind tangled like a knot, unable to find the end of the string.
She rushed out of the elevator, went home, sat on the sofa, and quickly searched for information on her phone.
Then, a delighted smile slowly curled on her lips.
So that’s it!
She hadn’t expected this! She had unknowingly caught a big fish! And it was a very, very big fish.
Huo Xingjian, Qin Yunan, hehe!
Now, she definitely wouldn’t let go! In fact, she’d have to change her plan.
Chapter 129: Your Girlfriend, I Don’t Like Her! Break Up!
The bag that Qin Yunan was holding fell to the ground with a "thud," and the expression on his face was one of sheer shock.
Wait, had his mind gone crazy? Was he... hallucinating?
Who’s voice was that? It wasn’t his brother’s, nor was it Yushu’s.
But it sounded familiar.
"Are you alright?" Huo Xingjian bent down to pick up the bag and handed it back to him, patting his hand reassuringly. "Don’t be nervous, that’s your sister-in-law."
He then turned to Shen Cheng and said, "Shen Cheng, this is my cousin Qin Yunan, from my mom’s side. Aunt and Uncle aren’t in Tongcheng right now, but when they return, we’ll get together again."
"Hello, sister-in-law," Qin Yunan quickly greeted Shen Cheng in a friendly manner.
"Hello," Shen Cheng responded with a polite nod and smile.
When Qin Yunan heard Shen Cheng’s voice, his body involuntarily trembled slightly.
Oh! Oh! So that was his sister-in-law’s voice earlier!
But wait, she hadn’t even spoken yet. How could he hear her voice?
Could it be that he had spent too much time in the lab, with little contact with the outside world, and his mind had gone off track?
【Qin Yunan is one unlucky guy, and to top it off, he's a green turtle! He...】
"Yunan, why are you standing here?" Shen Cheng was just about to gossip about him when a woman walked over.
She appeared to be around 25 or 26 years old, wearing a pale blue knee-length skirt, her voice soft and gentle.
She was quite beautiful, with an oval face, clear big eyes, and a small nose beneath her cherry red lips.
The only flaw was her height, around 1.6 meters at best.
She walked up to Qin Yunan and affectionately linked her arm with his, smiling sweetly, "Did you meet a friend?"
Next to the 1.85-meter-tall Qin Yunan, she looked quite petite.
"Brother, this is my girlfriend, Xu Yunxin," Qin Yunan said with a bright smile, his eyes full of warmth and love as he looked at Xu Yunxin.
"Yunxin, this is my brother Huo Xingjian, sister-in-law Shen Cheng, and my sister Yushu." He introduced them one by one.
"Hello, brother, sister-in-law, Yushu," Xu Yunxin said with a proper smile, greeting them warmly.
【Girlfriend, my foot! She’s more like a femme fatale! Qin Yunan, do you know that Xu Yunxin is only interested in your research results and is intentionally getting close to you?】
【Once your research results are out, she’ll have no hesitation in kicking you to the curb! Oh, no! She'll probably drug you first!】
【Then all your research results will be hers. You'll end up ruining it all because you took her drugs and made a mistake during surgery, resulting in a patient’s death.】
【Qin Yunan is a rare medical genius, but this greedy woman, Xu Yunxin, will destroy him.】
【Not only will he be fired from the hospital, but the patient’s family will also sue him. Xu Yunxin will stand up to testify that his mental state was off during the surgery because he was on drugs.】
【And of course, the test results will show traces of drugs in his system, just as Xu Yunxin said. No matter how Qin Yunan explains, it won’t matter.】
【In the end, having lost everything—fame, fortune, and career—he’ll jump off the top of the hospital and die on the spot!】
Ah!
Qin Yunan nearly screamed, his eyes wide with horror.
He instinctively jerked his arm, pulling it away from Xu Yunxin’s, making her nearly fall over from the sudden motion.
"Yunan?" Xu Yunxin looked at him with a pitiful expression, her eyes filled with tears, making her appear fragile and heartbroken.
Qin Yunan suddenly snapped out of it and hurried to explain, "I'm sorry, but I have something very important to discuss with my brother. I can't go shopping with you today. How about you head back first, and we can plan for next time?"
His tone was not one of negotiation, but of a firm statement.
Xu Yunxin stared at him in disbelief, unable to process what she was hearing.
What did he mean by this?
They had been together for over a year, and he had never left her alone like this before. Whether it was in front of friends, colleagues, or even his boss, he had always protected her.
Although they hadn’t met his family, Xu Yunxin prided herself on knowing him well.
No matter the time or place, he would never abandon her.
But now... this?
"But..." Xu Yunxin tried to protest.
"Miss Xu," Huo Yushu interrupted, "Although you are my second brother's girlfriend, our family has some rules. Until you marry into the family, you're not considered one of us."
"You can't be involved in family matters. So, please go back for now. If you want to participate in our family meetings, you’ll need to marry my second brother first."
"I’m not..." Xu Yunxin tried to defend herself.
"Do you need me to call you a cab?" Huo Yushu smiled politely.
"No, no need," Xu Yunxin shook her head, keeping a composed smile on her face. "I’ll call a cab myself. I won’t disturb you guys. Yunan, please take care of your brother, sister-in-law, and sister."
"If you need me, just give me a call anytime."
"Okay." Qin Yunan nodded without even looking at her.
At that moment, his mind was racing with thoughts of Shen Cheng’s words.
He was scared! If what she said was true, then he...
No, no, no! It must have been a hallucination. He needed to have a good talk with his brother.
Seeing that Qin Yunan had no intention of escorting her, Xu Yunxin was furious.
However, she couldn’t show it on her face, especially since she still hadn’t gotten what she wanted.
And then, she realized that Huo Xingjian’s name sounded vaguely familiar. She felt like she had heard it somewhere before but couldn’t recall where.
It was Qin Yunan’s fault for never telling her about his family or their background.
No, she had to do some research on Huo Xingjian and Qin Yunan’s family when she got home.
Finally, Xu Yunxin begrudgingly left, filled with frustration, as she got into the taxi.
Even as the taxi drove away, Qin Yunan didn’t look at her once.
"I didn’t know we had such a family rule," Shen Cheng remarked to Huo Yushu, looking confused.
【Not allowed to participate in family meetings unless married? Then how do you explain every time you bring Xie Shaoheng to family meetings?】
【And what about Huo Xingjian, the dog man? He’s always bringing Li Qingxue along, in and out of the family.】
【Other than Grandpa not liking her, who in your family has ever objected?】
【Oh right! And then there’s this unlucky guy, who keeps bringing Xu Yunxin to the Wen family. Soon enough, Xu Yunxin became good friends with Li Qingxue and Huo Yuyan.】
【You three siblings are clearly living under the same roof—green all the way! You truly are the heirs of this family’s green tradition!】
The three siblings: “...!!”
Except for the new kid in the grapevine, Qin Yunan, who was completely clueless, Huo Xingjian and Huo Yushu were used to these kinds of comments, but they still felt a little guilty.
"Well," Huo Yushu grinned, "Qin Yunan, I don’t like your girlfriend. You should break up with he
Created By Themexpose · Powered by Blogger
All rights reserved
🚀 Can’t Wait? Unlock Advanced Chapters on Patreon!!!
🚫 Ad-free access to ALL novels
⏩ Read 300% more advance chapters
💰 Save with annual plans
🚫 Ad-free access to ALL novels
⏩ Read 300% more advance chapters
💰 Save with annual plans