Chapter 12

The women of the Li household were attacked just before noon. By early afternoon, word had just spread, and yet the perpetrators had already been captured, and the young madam had been found. Time-wise, the Bingzhou forces hadn’t lost face. But capturing the culprits and rescuing her was only the beginning.

The Bingzhou prison was built beneath the government office, its walls lined with torches, keeping the interior dry and stifling.

Li Shan walked out of the prison with a grim face. The soles of his shoes were soaked with mud and stained, either with blood or water. Beside him, Du Ming held signed confessions, inwardly shaken. The Daoist nun had been running an illicit business at the women’s sanctuary and had initially planned to kill the young madam. Only after seeing her beauty did she change course, which ultimately spared Yaoyao’s life.

Following the nun’s confession, they tracked down the man who hired her. He had a standard bureaucratic accent, initially pleading innocence. But after some “persuasion,” he admitted to being a retainer of the Xiao family. It had been the Xiao family who ordered the murder of the Li family’s young madam.

Their goal was to sabotage the marriage alliance between the Xie and Li families. If the Xie daughter were killed in Bingzhou, whether or not the Li family was responsible, the blame would fall on them, driving a wedge between Li and Xie, and pitting them against the aristocratic clans.

If the Xie family lost a daughter and still clung to the Li family without protest, they would face public contempt, plunging right back to the bottom after barely recovering their reputation.

Inside the government office, Li Wang slammed the table and furrowed his brows. “It’s Xiao again!”

Li Shan smirked. Not unexpected.

The tension between the Li and Xiao families dated back five years to the Battle of Shangdang. Back then, Li Wang and Li Shan rose to prominence under the Grand Commandant Xiao due to their military merit.

When northern tribes invaded Shangdang, the Grand Commandant Xiao had planned to stand by and watch, hoping the ensuing chaos would provoke imperial fury and justify eliminating the Xie clan—so that he could swoop in afterward and seize Shangdang.

Unfortunately, the courier who delivered orders to the Li family “got lost,” and the command never reached them. By then, Li Shan had already led troops to save Shangdang. To the Xiao family, this appeared to be disobedience and an attempt to claim all the credit. From then on, the feud between Li and Xiao was set.

Over the years, Li Wang had tried to avoid offending powerful families, often seeking reconciliation with Xiao. But the Xiao clan never accepted.
That was why Li Wang ultimately chose to marry into the Xie family. He wanted to align with the aristocracy of Luoyang, forging alliances to oppose Xiao—a far better strategy than going it alone.

Li Wang understood that he and his son saw things differently, yet at this point, even Li Shan no longer spoke coldly. He simply asked, “Father, has the old woman confessed yet?”

It was one thing that the Daoist nun acted under orders from the Xiao family. But without the old woman’s intent to kill a member of the Xie clan, she wouldn’t have been able to succeed so easily. And that kind of madness—in a woman long unwell—was surely stirred up by someone. Someone had told her who to target.

The person who leaked the information couldn’t be let off easily. Now that they had seized one of Xiao’s pawns, Li Shan’s humiliation hadn’t yet been avenged. He would absolutely dig down to the root.

Li Wang said, “The old woman’s been mentally ill for years. All she ever talks about is her family dying in battle. Besides, her story is already a tragedy—her entire kin perished five years ago. To torture her further would be inhumane.”

He added, “Go see your mother—she’s hurt too.”

But Li Shan had no intention of having his father punish the old woman. In truth, he already had someone in mind. The temple visit had been suggested by Madam Lin, and odds were—eight or nine times out of ten—it was her doing.

Li Shan despised those who schemed behind the scenes, treating him like a fool or a blind man, thinking they could get away with it just because they left no proof behind.

And yet, Madam Lin was the sister of Deputy General Lin, a long-serving subordinate of his father. Over the years, Deputy General Lin had worked diligently and with merit. Even Li Shan called him “Uncle Lin.” Mishandling this could chill loyalty within their ranks.

Li Shan’s eyes reflected calculation. He’d never failed to take down anyone he set his sights on.
…

After leaving the government office and returning to the Li residence, Li Shan first headed to the eastern wing.

Madam Qian was chatting with Madam Lin and a few others, picking at slices of sweet melon with her fingers. She seemed in good spirits.

Li Shan glanced at Madam Lin, then looked away.

Madam Qian held out her hand and said with a laugh, “Look, it’s no big deal. It’s just that my skin’s gotten softer over the years. Back then, with all the calluses, a scratch like this wouldn’t even show!”

Li Shan replied, “Mother, take care and rest well.”

Madam Qian didn’t give her minor injury much thought. What concerned her was Yaoyao—though she’d never liked the Xie girl before, they had been attacked together, and Yaoyao had suffered far worse. She asked Li Shan, “And Xie girl? I heard she fell off a cliff while escaping. That must’ve hurt terribly—was she alright?”

At that moment, an image of her flashed across Li Shan’s mind. Back at the base of the cliff, after he’d loosened the ropes around her wrists, she had braced her palms against the ground and slowly pushed herself upright.

Several times, Li Shan thought she might collapse. His arm stayed taut, ready to catch her at any moment. But she held herself steady. Noticing his gaze, she’d even tugged her sleeve down to hide the rope marks on her wrist.

…

After leaving the eastern wing, Li Shan was met by Du Ming, who asked, “General, shall I prepare the horses for return?”

They had originally left to escort Tuoba Cong. Now that the situation was mostly resolved, Li Shan would normally be ready to head back—and Du Ming had already made preparations, waiting for the signal. But this time, it never came. He stole a glance at Li Shan, who was frowning slightly.

After a moment, Li Shan said, “No need.”

And with that, he dismissed Du Ming and strode toward the west wing at the rear of the estate.

…

Yaoyao had returned to the Li residence. The female physician examined her twisted ankle and other bruises. Fortunately, the thick grass at the base of the cliff had cushioned the fall, and there were no serious injuries.

Even so, the places where Yaoyao had struck her body were marred with deep purple bruises—especially noticeable against her pale, snow-white skin.

Nanny Zheng had come with the help of Xin Zhu and Mu Lan. She’d taken a knife to the shoulder protecting Madam Qian and had only just stopped bleeding. Yet upon hearing that Yaoyao had returned, nothing could keep her lying down—she had to confirm the young mistress’s safety with her own eyes. When she saw Yaoyao’s wounds, she burst into tears. “My girl, my poor girl has suffered…”

Again and again, she said “girl”—not “Madam,” not “Young Madam.”

Yaoyao’s throat tightened. She said hoarsely, “Nanny, please don’t get too worked up—be careful not to reopen your wound.”

Nanny Zheng replied, “If my girl is unharmed, then what does this old life of mine matter? I’d already made peace with it. If anything happened to you, I’d have followed right behind to save you from being alone in a strange land.”

Xin Zhu and Mu Lan also lowered their heads, crying silently.

Yaoyao whispered, “It’s over now… I’m fine…”

But Xin Zhu couldn’t hold back. “Miss, I can’t accept it! That mad old woman claimed Fifth Master caused her family’s death, and that you deserve to die. But has the Fifth Master—your cousin—even met you once since you were little?”

Yaoyao’s lashes quivered. All the emotions she’d bottled up since leaving Luoyang broke like a breached dam, spilling into aching tears that streamed down her cheeks.

Even without Xin Zhu’s words, Yaoyao had already guessed the reason for her assassination attempt from the old woman’s accusations. Her cousin, Xie Fei—twenty-some years her senior—had fought in the battle of Shangdang five years ago, when she was just eleven. They had never met. She swallowed hard. “Yes… all because I bear the name Xie. Just because I’m a Xie, I carry guilt and blame.”

Dragged by the Daoist nun, tumbling down the cliff, in terror and pain… she had thought of many things.

“That old woman aside—how many others have treated me like an object just for my family name? Nanny, sometimes I wonder: what exactly did I do wrong?”

Her voice was barely audible, but each word cut like a chisel, carving deep.

Nanny Zheng pulled her close, and the few women in the room sobbed together, too choked to speak.

Outside, Li Shan stood beneath the eaves, hands behind his back. He started to walk down the steps, then hesitated, turned back, and knocked once at the door.

Knock.

Everyone inside startled. Xin Zhu and Mu Lan helped Nanny Zheng to her feet. Li Shan waved his hand, motioning for them to leave without ceremony.

Nanny Zheng glanced at Yaoyao, and upon seeing her nod, she left with Xin Zhu and Mu Lan.

Li Shan walked straight to the table, poured himself a glass of water, and drank it in one gulp. When he turned around, he saw the girl sitting on the couch, biting her lip and wiping tears with the back of her hand. But those tears kept falling, freely and unstoppably. After a few swipes, a fresh surge welled up again, streaming down her pale, delicate face in soft, winding trails.

Li Shan had never seen someone cry like this. His throat moved subtly, as though the water he had just swallowed had somehow become her tears, seeping into the cracks of his chest, transforming into something indescribable and unnameable. He turned away and said flatly, “You were attacked. That was the result of the Li family’s negligence. I’ll give you an explanation.”

After a pause, he finally heard her softly reply with a nasal “Mm.”

She was still crying.

Li Shan said, “Are you still angry?”

Yaoyao didn’t answer—she continued wiping away her tears.

Annoyed and unsettled, Li Shan lifted his gaze. “Just now, you were speaking in riddles and casting indirect blame. I’m not even trying to settle accounts with you—what are you feeling guilty about?”

That mad old woman had confused truth with delusion and mistook Yaoyao for an enemy. But Li Shan himself, due to the Xie family’s swapped marriage arrangement—and his own prejudices against aristocratic clans—had treated her with cold indifference. Her words were about the old woman and also about him.

Li Shan reflected: people had always given him the dignity of an exit—but this time, he was the one offering it.

If she’d just stop crying and utter anything at all, he wouldn’t push further. After all, she was always so mild and obedient. What harsh words could she possibly say?

Yaoyao paused mid-swipe. She lifted her tear-bright eyes—after crying so fiercely, her eye corners were tinged with a blush like a trailing cloud, more delicate than any blossom. Her gaze flickered, voice light and drifting: “If anyone felt guilty after what I said…”

“That person surely wouldn’t be me.”

Li Shan: “…”

…

Moments later, Li Shan exited the western wing.

Du Ming had no idea what had happened inside—but judging by the General’s expression, darker than the bottom of a pot, it couldn’t have been pleasant. He asked again, “General, shall we head back?”

Li Shan replied, “Head back for what? I’m not a donkey.”

Du Ming: “…”

As he walked, Li Shan pointed fiercely at several soldiers: “You, you, you—and you lot, come with me!”

Du Ming and the three or four named guards quickly followed his stride. The guards gave Du Ming pleading looks, so he stepped forward and cautiously asked, “General, where are we headed?”

Li Shan replied, “To destroy the one who should be feeling guilty right now!”

…

After storming out the door, it was obvious he was furious. Yaoyao felt a twinge of concern—but no regret. She hadn’t provoked him on purpose. But eventually, the truth had to be made clear: she didn’t deserve to be implicated for things she never did, and he shouldn’t have treated her as if she did. She hadn’t planned to speak up at that moment—he was the one who refused to play deaf and mute, insisting on pressing the matter. So, if anyone ought to feel guilty, it was he.

As for whether Li Shan might despise her more after this, or become colder toward her… Yaoyao thought to herself—could it get any worse than it already was? If not, then so be it.

She composed herself. Just then, Mu Lan burst in from outside, still wide-eyed and stunned, half in disbelief. “Madam! I heard the General just—”

Yaoyao looked puzzled. “What happened?”

Mu Lan replied, “He went and burned down Tianyang Temple to avenge you!”