Chapter 17

The sweeping campaign to eradicate Taoist and Buddhist institutions reached a pause on the fifth day, following a new directive: burn nine, spare one. Major temples were converted into orphan asylums to care for children who had lost their families.

Whether or not their gratitude was genuine, monks and priests across Bingzhou showed appreciation. Besides, most of the fraudulent clergy—who had entered the temples for personal gain—had already fled to nearby provinces.

Bingzhou thus became the first to shed the burden of religious entanglements. Other regions soon followed suit—some failed, some succeeded, but all moved far more slowly. They had missed the crucial moment and were now facing mounting obstacles, but that was a story for another time.

For now, Li Shan had adjusted his strategy. Even Du Ming, one of his closest aides, was surprised. He quietly asked Xin Zhi, “Did you talk him into this?”

Xin Zhi gave a sarcastic grin: “Do I look like I’m tired of living?”

In truth, Li family’s advisors had spent the day sleepless—anyone who dared advise Li Shan at the height of his aggression was a brave soul. And if their idea was adopted, they’d be considered a master tactician. Such courage and foresight cast a shadow on the rest—had they been utterly useless?

One by one, they rallied, brainstorming furiously. To their credit, several of the proposals turned out to be excellent. Li Wang, feigning illness, had taken only a few days of rest before returning to handle official business.

Li Wang was puzzled, though not for the same reason as the others. Although he’d stepped back, the Bingzhou army still moved in perfect coordination, responding swiftly to Li Shan’s commands. The tactics bore Li Shan’s signature aggression.

It was clear who truly held sway within the army. And Li Wang knew—Li Shan had been conscripted years before himself. If he weren’t Li Shan’s father, he wouldn’t have risen to this position so quickly.

Now, Li Wang had an uneasy feeling. Perhaps it was Li Shan—not himself—who could lead the Li family to greater heights. He didn’t dare dwell too much. The political landscape was what it was. Da Qi still relied on the aristocratic clans. Opposing them rarely ended well. But somehow, Li Shan had pulled off a deft maneuver—first a slap, then a sweet date—cooling their anger just enough.

Li Wang muttered, “Who has this kid recruited now?”

Madam Qian glanced around and whispered, “There’s something I hadn’t mentioned… That day, Madam Guo came to Xie Yaoyao and me. She agreed to speak with him. I never thought she could actually sway Li Lang, but now…”

Li Wang frowned: “It couldn’t be her.”

Back when they arranged Li Shan’s marriage to her, Li Wang protested for months. How could the words of a noblewoman possibly sway a man like Li Shan? Seeing his reaction now, Madam Qian realized she might’ve been overthinking it.

Just then, Li Shan returned.

All day long, Li Shan’s face was dark, clearly in an extraordinarily foul mood. Others assumed he was unhappy with the “burn nine, spare one” edict and only adopted it reluctantly because it was a sound strategy.

But only Li Shan knew it wasn’t just that. He’d realized it: Yaoyao had waited for him last night specifically to plead on behalf of the aristocrats.

What annoyed him more was… he’d actually been persuaded. Not by her arguments—but by something else entirely.

From the moment she softly referenced Qin Shi Huang and Xiang Yu, the sensation of her gentle fingertips gliding across his newly healed skin kept growing stronger in his mind. So much so that by the end, he’d given in with a quiet “Mm.”

She’d always known how to play the part of the obedient wife, but in that moment, she turned the tables with finesse. And Li Shan, ever concerned with pride and appearances, couldn’t easily retract his consent.

Recalling the way her face glowed in candlelight, vivid and graceful, Li Shan unconsciously ground his molars.

Xin Zhi glanced at him, then lowered his head in silence. The general was clearly nursing a fire inside. And since Li Shan wasn’t one to swallow frustration, he’d surely find an outlet.

Just then, fate delivered one—an unlucky shadow lunged toward him under the cover of night.

“Assassin!” Xin Zhi cried.

Bodyguards rushed forward to shield Li Shan, but his eyes were icy as he commanded, “Stand down.”

Startled, they paused. Li Shan drew his sword. Back in his days under the Xiao clan, he rose to fame by besting Xie Fei with expert spearwork. He’d mastered arrows, spears, blades—but few knew his greatest weapon was the sword, passed down from his grandfather.

In the blink of an eye, blood sprayed.

The assassin’s head hit the ground, bouncing twice.

The guards silently cleaned up the body. Li Shan flicked the blood off his sword, sheathed it, and strode into the Li estate.

In the main hall, upon hearing that an assassin had once again targeted Li Shan, Madam Qian was furious. “How outrageous!”

Li Shan replied calmly, “No need to bother—they can’t do anything to me.”

But Li Wang understood the underlying danger. He said to Madam Qian, “If the assassin can’t hurt the eldest son, they’ll target other members of the Li family. From now on, you and Xie Yaoyao should travel with more guards.”

Madam Qian was startled. “Me too?”

The purge of Taoist and Buddhist institutions was bound to provoke resentment—a consequence the Li father and son had anticipated. Li Wang could protect Madam Qian, but not necessarily Xie Yaoyao. He couldn’t keep her locked indoors forever.

He paused and glanced at Li Shan, then asked Madam Qian, “Then why not let her travel north with him?”

Li Shan was about to speak, but Madam Qian interjected, “I asked her earlier, but she wasn’t willing. She said she wanted to stay and play the zither for me.”

Li Shan: “…”

Li Wang nodded. “A thoughtful and dutiful girl.”

Li Shan remained silent. After a brief pause, he left the hall and suddenly let out a low chuckle. The storm cloud that had hung over him all day seemed to lift.

Xin Zhi, walking beside him, was startled. He suspected someone was about to have a very unlucky moment—until he heard Li Shan say, “Prepare the carriage. I’ll be needing it tomorrow.”

…

The campaign against religious institutions had delayed things. The court had already sent three urgent messages—Li Shan was due to escort Tuoba Cong to Yanmen County.

Yaoyao felt things were finally returning to normal. She remembered her promise to play Mingzhu for Madam Qian—after all, her mother-in-law was far easier to please than her husband.

Nanny Zheng hesitated several times before finally saying, “For the general to accept your suggestion… it shows you hold a place in his heart.”

Yaoyao responded thoughtfully, “Maybe he always intended to leave the nobles some breathing room. And if he truly made this decision after hearing me, it only proves he has endured enough hardship and learned to restrain his impulses and adapt.”

A general in plain robes, now possessing such renown, he clearly lived up to his reputation. Yaoyao only needed Madam Guo to know the idea had come from her; there was no need to claim credit publicly. It was clear she had no ulterior motives toward Li Shan. Nanny Zheng felt quietly relieved.

Still, Yaoyao considered one thing aloud: “When he accepted my request, his expression wasn’t great. I just worry he took it to heart.”

Nanny Zheng replied, “If he agreed to it, he wouldn’t hold a grudge—would he?”

Yaoyao didn’t press the matter further, though privately, she wasn’t entirely sure Li Shan didn’t hold grudges. But since nothing had happened that day, she let the thought go.

As night fell and before Li Shan returned, Yaoyao was already drowsy. Since she had nothing urgent to discuss with him, she didn’t trouble herself, curling up early beneath the blankets and closing her eyes in comfort. She should’ve had a dreamless night and slept until morning. But midway through, Nanny Zheng gently shook her, urging her to wake up.

Yaoyao rolled over with a soft murmur, “So noisy…”

Nanny Zheng patted her on the shoulder. “Young Madam, Young Madam!”

Finally, it was as if her spirit returned to her body—she reluctantly opened her eyes. Slightly annoyed, she mumbled at the edge of sleep, “Stop shouting…”

The room was lit by candlelight, though someone stood at her bedside, blocking most of the glow. Yaoyao focused her gaze and saw clearly—it was Li Shan. He was clad in chainmail, arms crossed, eyes sharp and bright, with a faint smile playing at his lips.

In the shadow he cast, Yaoyao paused in a daze. Her mind felt like a sticky ball of rice cake—muddled and slow. She blinked at Nanny Zheng in confusion.

Nanny Zheng whispered, “…The general requests that Madam travel north with him.”

North? Yaoyao stared blankly. Is this a nightmare?

She slowly slipped further under the covers, curling herself up. If I fall asleep, the nightmare will end.

Just then, Li Shan said, “Xie Yaoyao.”

It was the first time he had addressed her by name. His mood seemed unusually good—his voice carried a faint, teasing smile, making the half-asleep Yaoyao want to plug her ears.

Before she could, Li Shan added, “Will you walk on your own, or shall I carry you?”