Chapter 13

On a March evening, night had not yet fully descended. A few wisps of clouds lingered at the horizon, cutting a slanted line between dusk and daylight. On the ground, a line of soldiers surrounded Tianyang Temple with blazing torches, carving out another line—this one of fire and judgment.

By the time Li Wang arrived, having received word of the incident, Li Shan was already commanding torches to be hurled at the temple.

Over fifty Daoist priests had been captured and forced to kneel on the ground, their faces smudged with ash and dust.

Master Gao cried out, “General, please reconsider! The Three Pure Ones are merciful and never bear grudges. It’s still not too late to stop!”

Li Shan kicked him to the ground, then stepped on the man’s long beard and leaned in slightly. “Then I’ll send you up to meet your deities in person.”

Master Gao trembled to his core—Li Shan was truly reckless and fearsome!

Spotting Li Wang arriving, he immediately begged for mercy. “Governor, I’ve been wronged!”

The other priests followed suit. “My lord, we’re innocent! Help us!”

Li Wang asked Li Shan, “What is the meaning of this?”

Li Shan didn’t answer directly. Du Ming stepped forward and said, “My lord, Tianyang Temple harbored an assassin and caused grave danger to Madam and the Young Madam. Their actions are despicable! Today, we must raze this temple to restore justice!”

Li Wang was well aware that Li Shan had harbored resentment toward Daoist and Buddhist institutions for a long time. These places were deeply entwined with aristocratic family networks. Though Bingzhou was nominally under the Li family’s control, noble clans like the Gu family of Taiyuan maintained close ties with these temples, each staking out their own territory.

Priests and monks often secretly handled affairs for these clans, acting as hidden knives. Thanks to Da Qi’s leniency, they were exempt from military service and enjoyed tax reductions, enabling them to acquire land and accumulate wealth. When noble sons didn’t wish to be conscripted, they simply hid away in temples, turning these religious places into havens of luxury.

Though Li Wang had long aimed to align with the aristocracy, he couldn’t allow these temples to expand unchecked. This incident was the perfect excuse to strike. He put on an expression of righteous grief and said to Master Gao, “You sheltered an assassin, harmed the women of the Li household, and have committed long-standing evil. You claim to live beyond worldly affairs—but even if the Three Pure Ones manifest today, they won’t be able to save you.”

Only then did Master Gao realize that the Li family had wanted to deal with them all along—and cursed that nun for handing them the perfect excuse.

Li Shan’s act of burning down the temple shocked Mu Lan—and understandably so. Da Qi had long treated Daoist and Buddhist institutions with reverence, and his actions bordered on outrageous. If this had happened in Luoyang, the uproar would have been unimaginable.

Yaoyao, too, was surprised. Her hand lightly rested against her chest. She knew there was fire in his heart—and thankfully, it hadn’t been directed at her.

Later that evening, Xin Zhu returned with hot water and exclaimed with delight, “The woman boiling water was so kind to me! Before, she barely acknowledged me.”

Mu Lan added, “Yes, and Nanny Zheng was so pleased when she heard the news.”

Though none of them knew exactly what had passed between Yaoyao and Li Shan in private, they assumed it must’ve been something good. From now on, surely Yaoyao would no longer suffer quiet indignities.

After all, the entire Li household had witnessed the general’s fiery retaliation for her sake. Who would dare treat the Young Madam with disdain now?

Hearing that Nanny Zheng was in high spirits, Yaoyao smiled. It pleased her even more than hearing that Li Shan had burned the temple, because Nanny Zheng needed rest, and good spirits would help far more than gloom.

The day felt both endless and fleeting. As night fully blanketed the sky, Yaoyao grew weary. When bathing, the hot water stung slightly against her broken skin, making her furrow her brow.

Xin Zhu carefully avoided her wounds while gently wiping her body. She glanced at Yaoyao—despite the blemishes, the steam only accentuated her flawless skin. She was still stunning.

The bath didn’t last long. Scratches needed soothing balm. As Yaoyao rose from the tub, her clothes wrapped around her elegant frame, tracing every graceful contour.

Back in her room, Xin Zhu applied medicine to her scraped skin. As she worked, her eyes reddened with sympathy.

Yaoyao smiled lightly, “You know me—I bruise easily. Even the slightest pressure leaves a mark.”

For instance, earlier that day, when Li Shan inexplicably gripped her foot and refused to let go, after returning and removing her shoes and socks, Yaoyao found two faint red marks on the pale surface of her foot. Thankfully, the marks faded quickly and weren’t noticed by Nanny Zheng or the others.

Yaoyao slowly lowered her gaze; hidden beneath her snow-colored socks, her toes curled slightly.

Xin Zhu, wiping away her tears, gave a silly smile. “True. By tomorrow morning, those red marks will be gone.”

Just then, a maid’s voice came from outside: “Greetings, General.”

The words had barely left her mouth when—before Yaoyao or Xin Zhu could react—Li Shan strode into the room like a gust of wind.

Since Yaoyao had been applying medicine, she was dressed lightly: a silk bandeau wrapped around her chest, loose silk pants, and a sheer inner robe draped over her shoulders. His sudden entrance made her instinctively pull the robe closed.

Li Shan, without glancing at her, sat squarely on a chair and tugged at his collar to cool off.

With the master returned, Xin Zhu tactfully excused herself.

Li Shan’s demeanor was so ordinary and relaxed that Yaoyao eased up. She didn’t feel the need to be self-conscious—he had always disliked aristocratic families, and surely had no interest in her. Though she wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination after hearing about the temple fire, she couldn’t help but think he carried the faint scent of kindling—an earthy heat to him.

Uncertain whether he was still angry, Yaoyao decided to stick with composure. She held a small round mirror, dabbing medicine gently onto the mark at her collarbone.

Li Shan remained silent for a while. Just as she was wondering why he hadn’t mentioned the temple incident, he suddenly looked up.

At that moment, the tip of his brow moved ever so slightly.

Under the lamplight, Yaoyao sat sideways on the chaise, dressed lightly. Her legs were gracefully together, one gently draped over the other, accentuating the slender curve of her waist. She lowered her long lashes, carefully dabbing balm onto the faint bruise at her collarbone. The candlelight seemed like a painter’s brush, casting soft hues of snow and jade across her skin. Beneath the delicate collarbone, a slanted red mark disappeared under her neckline, while the silk bandeau traced smooth, rounded contours.

Li Shan was suddenly reminded of the searing heat from the temple fires—as if the flame’s tongue had now scorched his vision, hot and consuming. He looked away, his tone unreadable. “Is the injury serious?”

Yaoyao set the mirror down and shook her head. Then, realizing he hadn’t looked at her, she added softly, “It’s not too bad.”

Li Shan said, “I’ll sleep on the chaise tonight.”

The abrupt statement made Yaoyao blink in surprise. She glanced down at the bed. “I’ll take the bed? Won’t this be too small for you?”

Li Shan replied, “It’s fine.”

Since he was so certain, Yaoyao said nothing more and called Xin Zhu and Mu Lan to come collect the bedding.

In truth, bed or chaise made no difference to Li Shan—he’d once slept atop a carved stone grave while fighting rebel forces in Jiangnan. It was the red marks on her skin that made him think: if he let her sleep on the chaise again, it might press against her injuries. That wouldn’t be fair to her.

For Yaoyao, the chaise still had some room to spare, but once Li Shan lay down, it felt cramped. He had to sleep with his arms folded, turning over was a hassle—yet he closed his eyes quickly.

As for Yaoyao, it was the first time in days she’d slept in a proper bed. No matter how one looked at it, it was more comfortable than the chaise. Having been startled and exhausted that day, she fell quickly into a sweet and deep sleep the moment she closed her eyes.

After a while, Li Shan opened his eyes again, his gaze gleaming. Strange, he thought—why wouldn’t he look at her? A person is made of two eyes and a nose. What’s so unseeable?

Resolving the thought, he turned over and looked toward the girl on the bed, bundled tightly beneath the blanket from head to toe—only a palm-sized face peeked out; sound asleep.

…

That night, it was as if Li Shan could smell a faint sweet fragrance of osmanthus blossoms drifting from the chaise. It teased at his nose and tickled his senses. Usually, he slept straight through till morning—but that night, he dreamed a lot. None of it stuck when he woke; a jumble of fragments and nonsense. Like the previous few days, he said nothing. He washed up, got dressed, and walked out.

Yaoyao had long grown used to this, and she rose as well. However, when Xin Zhu entered with the copper basin for washing, she kept casting knowing glances at Yaoyao.

Yaoyao was puzzled—until she stepped outside and saw the reason for Xinzhu’s unusual behavior: a tall figure of a man stood waiting under the corridor eaves.

He turned back. “Why are you so slow?”

Yaoyao: “…” She hadn’t asked him to wait for her.

…

This was Yaoyao’s first time accompanying Li Shan to visit his mother-in-law. The two entered the east wing, one after the other. Aunt Li’s jaw dropped, and she beamed as she hurried off to inform Madam Qian.

Madam Lin, accompanied by Fang Qiaoniang, had come to keep Madam Qian company. After learning yesterday that Li Shan had burned down the temple, Madam Lin had lost her usual calm and hadn’t slept well all night.
Her instincts told her that something was veering beyond her expectations. Still, she had to make plans for her son. Who knew how he was doing out in Jizhou?

She chatted with Madam Qian for some time and, knowing the latter was not particularly shrewd, casually said, “They say the Hu people’s language is extremely complex—eighteen dialects, even.”

Madam Qian scoffed. “Uncivilized places—walk a few li and the language changes.”

Madam Lin added, “Complicated languages aren’t ideal. The general needs someone trustworthy who understands Hu dialects—so he’s not misled. My daughter Qiaoniang has studied a little. She’s his cousin—loyal by nature—and she can help him judge right from wrong.”

Madam Qian actually began to consider it.

Just then, Li Shan and Yaoyao entered. Fang Qiaoniang saw Li Shan first, her cheeks flushing, only to turn cold when she spotted Yaoyao beside him. She lowered her head, speechless.

Li Shan greeted Madam Qian with a bow. “Mother, how is your injury?”

A dutiful son, he immediately asked about her wound. Madam Qian smiled. “Told you, it’s nothing serious. The physician was late—by then it was already healing on its own!”

Then she added, “Oh, right—since you’re escorting Hu prisoners north, you should take Qiaoniang. She understands Hu speech. Those people are crafty—don’t let them fool you on the road.”

Yaoyao saw right through Madam Lin and Fang Qiaoniang’s intentions—it was nothing more than an attempt to slip someone into Li Shan’s entourage. Even if Li Shan agreed, she wouldn’t mind. She had already made up her mind to keep her heart quiet, seeking nothing else. And since he tended to swing to extremes in like and dislike, she thought he might be more lenient toward family.

With that, Yaoyao remained calm on the surface, though inwardly she had already sorted out her thoughts.

The next moment, however, Li Shan scoffed coldly, “My unit has no shortage of soldiers who understand Hu dialects. What would I bring her for—so she can trade insults in Hu with my troops?”

Yaoyao: “…” That wasn’t exactly what she would call lenient.

The bluntness of the remark left Madam Lin and Fang Qiaoniang speechless. Even Madam Qian was caught off guard: “You—what kind of thing is that to say?”

Li Shan replied, “I never bring unnecessary people on campaigns.”

The word “unnecessary” showed no shred of courtesy. Both women’s expressions turned awkward.

Yaoyao thought to herself: he certainly doesn’t hide his likes and dislikes.

After that firm rejection, Li Shan added, “That mad old woman who attacked people—she’s more lucid today after being treated.”

Madam Lin and Fang Qiaoniang’s faces changed instantly, as if sitting on thorns. Madam Qian noticed, but assumed it was due to Li Shan’s earlier blunt words. Kindly, she didn’t question them. Instead, she turned to Li Shan and said, “That’s wonderful! Now we can finally find out who instructed her!” Then, turning to Yaoyao, “You can finally settle the score with that old woman.”

Yaoyao paused, then said, “Mother, that won’t be necessary.”

Madam Qian replied quickly, “Why not? She tried to kill you—don’t you hate her?”

Li Shan also looked at Yaoyao.

Yaoyao replied, “Since we are no longer in mortal danger, and her madness began with tragedy, leaving her confused and broken—why should I trouble her further?”

She didn’t exactly forgive the old woman, but she no longer sought retribution.

Li Shan’s gaze darkened, his lips pressed into a thin line.

The truth was that the old woman’s “recovered lucidity” was merely a fabrication that Li Shan had devised. He’d already devised how to expose Madam Lin—but the previous night, he’d been too busy burning down Tianyang Temple. And now, seeing Yaoyao so “gracious” in her forgiveness, he silently ground his teeth.

Once outside the east wing, Li Shan began walking faster and faster. Yaoyao kept her usual pace, trailing quietly behind him, but within moments, the gap between them widened. Compared to his earlier demeanor that morning, this change was abrupt.

Xinzhu was confused. “Madam, what’s wrong with the General?”

Yaoyao wasn’t sure what had offended him either. Her foot was still tender from the sprain, and walking fast wasn’t easy, so she told Xin Zhu, “Let’s rest a moment.”

They had barely paused in the corridor when the sound of heavy footsteps returned—Li Shan had come back.

Yaoyao greeted softly, “Husband…”

Li Shan stared straight at her, his tone sharp. “You’re really something. You don’t blame the old woman for targeting you just because you’re a Xie—and instead, you blame me. What do you take me for?”

So that’s what this was about.

Yaoyao looked at him, calm and serious. Her voice was soft: “I don’t blame that old woman, because I won’t be spending my life with her. But I do want to spend my life with you.”

Li Shan: “……”

She blinked gently, her tone like a breeze: “Because… you are my husband.”

Li Shan: “……”