Chapter 4

Although the Li family now boasted two marquises and the Emperor had generously granted them a new estate, the mansion was still under renovation. With few members in the household, there was no rush to move. For now, they remained in the same modest main hall where Li Wang paced back and forth, hands clasped behind his back.

Madam Qian tried to calm him down. “Lilang isn’t that kind of person. And even if he’s momentarily dazzled by wealth and privilege—so what? I’ve lived in the inner chambers long enough to know that war costs lives. He’s been risking his neck since his early teens. After holding it all in for so long, a little indulgence is only natural.”

“Besides, it was you who insisted he marry a Xie girl. If he’s acting up a bit, so what?”

Thinking his son was likely acting out just to spite him—and not genuinely enamored with extravagance—Li Wang’s expression eased slightly.

Just then, Aunt Li at the gate called out, “Young Master is back!”

Madam Qian rushed to greet him. The weather was still cold this time of year, and she was startled to see Li Shan without a coat. “Where’s your outer robe?” she asked.

Li Shan replied, “Got it dirty.”

Madam Qian realized now wasn’t the time to fuss over clothing and quickly said, “You overdid it today. Hurry and apologize to your father—tell him it won’t happen again.”

Li Shan said coolly, “Why should I apologize? Luoyang is amazing—the official roads are so long and straight. You can’t compare that to muddy tracks for riding.”

That single remark rekindled Li Wang’s fury. He pointed at him, fuming, “You—you really think indulging yourself like this will make the Xie family call off the engagement?”

Outsiders might not understand Li Shan, but both Li Wang and Madam Qian knew—he was not someone who coveted pleasure. If he was acting this way, it could only mean one thing: he despised the marriage.

Li Shan let out a sardonic smile. “Here I am behaving like this, and yet the Xie family has nothing to say. They’ve already married off one daughter. If anything happens to this one, they could probably dig up another and marry her to me too.”

He was mocking the Xie family for “selling daughters,” and taking a jab at his own household too. The Xies had gone back on their word yet clung to the Li family’s newfound wealth. Meanwhile, the Lis clung to the Xies’ aristocratic pedigree, hoping it would catapult them into the ranks of first-tier nobility.

Madam Qian didn’t catch the irony in Li Shan’s words—she just kept nodding in agreement. But Li Wang was furious. He yanked the deerskin belt from his waist and lashed it at Li Shan. “You arrogant boy! Everything I’ve done is for the sake of the Li family!”

Madam Qian cried out, “Aiya! Don’t hit him! Lilang, quick—dodge!”

But Li Shan stood firm. The lash struck him hard, tearing through his thin inner robe to reveal faint traces of blood on his pale back—yet he didn’t flinch.

Li Wang struck him twice, but when he caught sight of Li Shan’s dark, unwavering gaze, he hesitated—startled—then lowered his hand.

Li Shan shifted his shoulder slightly. The pain from this whipping was nothing compared to the beatings his father gave him when he was younger.

Looking directly at Li Wang, he curled his lip into a faint smile. “Father, you’ve grown old.”

…

After leaving the main hall, Li Shan found Xin Zhi, who had just finished burning his outer robe and was dusting off his hands. He quickly caught up. “General.”

Li Shan gave a muted grunt in response, then suddenly asked, “When is the wedding?”

Xin Zhi flushed. The date had been set over a month ago, yet the General didn’t know?

“The seventh day of the third month,” he replied.

Li Shan then asked out of the blue, “Have the Hu emissaries arrived?”

Xin Zhi nodded. “Yes—they reached Luoyang the day before yesterday.”

Negotiations for surrender would take at least three months. Since the Hu’s defeat, their emissaries had just now crossed mountains and rivers, bearing their khan’s token of sincerity. Talks would follow.

Xin Zhi added, “But by the time of your wedding, General, it should all be settled.”

Li Shan said, “It had better be.”

…

As the winter ice melted and February neared its end, with the Li family’s wedding fast approaching, the terms of peace between Da Qi and the Hu were finally announced: The Hu tribes expressed willingness to surrender. Beginning from the seventh year of the Dingyuan reign, they agreed to annually tribute Da Qi with 1,000 fine horses, 100 stones of assorted spices, 1,000 taels of gold, and even a princess for a diplomatic marriage.

This thrilled the imperial court—after years of fiscal deficit, such offerings were like sweet rain in a drought.

However, there was one condition: the Hu demanded the return of Prince Tuoba Cong of Fengtian, who had been captured, and they insisted that Li Shan personally escort him back to the front. Otherwise, they would rather die with honor than live in shame.

At the time, the court was holding a banquet for the Hu emissaries. Upon hearing this request, reactions were mixed.

After the banquet, Right Vice Minister Wang Jian, somewhat tipsy, remained in the palace waiting for sobering soup. Suddenly, he sneered. “Clever bastards.”

Tuoba Cong was the khan’s most cherished son. If anyone else were tasked with escorting him, Wang Jian could’ve arranged an “accident” along the way—having him quietly disposed of, forcing the Hu to swallow the loss in silence.

But Li Shan was another matter entirely. If he had truly wanted Tuoba Cong dead, he would’ve done it long ago. Moreover, the Hu respected him deeply. With Tuoba Cong in Li Shan’s custody, and possibly destined to inherit leadership in the future, his survival could ensure several more years of peace along the frontier. This was a great boon to the Li family.

At that moment, the nine-year-old Emperor burst into the administrative office, face flushed with excitement. “Where’s my horse? And the gold and silver?”

It seemed one of the eunuchs had briefed him on the terms of surrender, and the boy emperor was already eager.

Wang Jian coaxed him, “Your Majesty, no need to worry—we just need Li Shan to escort Tuoba Cong back.”

The young Emperor shouted, “Hurry! Issue the order!”

The eunuch carried the decree to the Li residence. Not long after, he returned looking somewhat disheveled and abashed. “Your Majesty… the Marquis of Anbei refused.”

Wang Jian’s brow furrowed. The Emperor snapped, “Why won’t he go?”

Wiping his sweat, the eunuch stammered, “The Marquis said: In a few days, I’m to be married. Last time, the Xie family gave away the bride. If I’m not in Luoyang this time, they might break off the engagement again.”

The Xie family’s hasty marriage arrangements were well known throughout Luoyang, so Wang Jian wasn’t surprised by Li Shan’s concerns—if something like that happened again, how could Li Shan save face?

The eunuch relayed, “He also said: It’s not like there’s an urgent crisis at the border. How can I abandon my bride to personally escort a Hu tribesman?”

Despite Li Shan’s arrogance, Wang Jian wasn’t angry. He merely said, “Just a coarse military man.”

In fact, in the past few months, Li Shan had grown even more brazen, not restraining himself ahead of his wedding, but growing wilder in his behavior.

Wang Jian and other high-ranking Luoyang officials saw this clearly. Intentionally indulging him, they noted how his heart was set on pleasure and how indifferent he was to the Hu surrender negotiations—even to the point of shirking court responsibilities. If not for the fear he still commanded among the Hu, he would’ve been stripped of his title and punished long ago.

The young Emperor, however, was furious. “I don’t care! Li Shan must go. If he refuses, let him lose his head!”

Wang Jian tried to appease him. “Your Majesty, don’t be hasty. We can send someone to pressure him again. It’s just the wedding getting in the way—it can always be postponed.”

He calmed the Emperor and dispatched another eunuch to the Li residence.

Before long, the eunuch returned, muttering awkwardly, “The Marquis of Anbei said: If I can’t get married in Luoyang, then I’ll marry in Bingzhou. And if I still can’t make it in time, I’ll hold the wedding on the road.”

Clearly, he had no intention of postponing the marriage. It was both domineering and disrespectful.

Wang Jian shook his head. “If the Xie family agrees, then let him go.”

The eunuch added, “The Marquis said the Xie family won’t object.”

Wang Jian laughed aloud. The Xie family had misstepped repeatedly. Thanks to their alliance with the Lis, Xie Fei had been reinstated, and Xie Zhaozhi was back in the Secretariat. There was no room left to oppose Li Shan.

Wang Jian said, “Then let him escort Tuoba Cong quickly. Let the wedding proceed however he wishes.”

And so, using urgency as an excuse, Li Shan insisted on taking Madam Qian with him to Bingzhou to prepare the wedding. Once it was done, she would be returned to Luoyang.

Wang Jian had a few doubts, but the young Emperor’s eagerness—and a bit too much wine that night—pushed him to agree.

The next morning, sobered up and uneasy, Wang Jian sent someone to inquire about the Li household, only to learn that Li Shan was still cheerfully playing woshuo dice, utterly at ease.

Wang Jian thought to himself: if Li Shan truly harbored treacherous intent and was deliberately removing his family from the capital, he would have taken advantage of last night’s imperial order and departed immediately.

But he hadn’t. And besides, these past few months of indulgence were well known. It was hard to imagine this youth had any deeper schemes. Even taking a more cautious view, half of the military tally remained with the court, and the Bingzhou troops were still stationed outside Luoyang.

Li Shan was only taking his personal guards to escort the Hu prince. It seemed unlikely he would abandon his well-trained army, forged through years of hard effort, just for the sake of relocating his kin.

As such, few in court suspected him. They were too busy laying plans for the windfall in tribute.

Only the Xie family, upon learning of the news, was troubled. Madam Lu cried bitterly again. What should have been a proper marriage had become a series of humiliating concessions—it was a complete farce. She quarreled fiercely with Xie Zhaozhi over it.

Unexpectedly, Xie Zhaozhi said, “Li Shan is often stationed in Bingzhou. Even if Yaoyao were to marry him in Luoyang, she’d have to go there eventually. If he wants her to marry in Bingzhou, what’s the harm?”

Digging deeper, it was clear the Xie family had leveraged the Li family’s rising influence to return to the political center. Even Xie Shu’s marriage into the Xue family couldn’t have brought such an opportunity. At a time when their footing was still unsteady, they couldn’t afford to offend Li Shan.

Xie Zhaozhi wasn’t exactly impressed by Li Shan either. He called him a shallow brat, but found comfort in his recklessness—it meant Li Shan might not overshadow the Xie family too thoroughly.

Thus, with every party calculating their own gain, no one objected further.

By the third month, as the northern journey required light travel, the Xie family’s generous dowry was sent ahead to the Li residence in Luoyang. After Li Shan completed his escort of Tuoba Cong, he would return for Madam Qian and Yaoyao.

Tomorrow was the day Yaoyao would set out with Li Shan for Bingzhou.

In the bridal chamber.

Yaoyao had just finished her bath, her hair cascading like clouds down her back. Nanny Zheng gently combed through it with a wooden comb dipped in apricot blossom-scented oil. Her hair was beautiful—each strand sleek and resilient, slipping like silk through the fingers, impossible to let go of.

To Nanny Zheng, who had raised her from infancy, Yaoyao was perfect in every way. But this marriage was such a misfortune. She hadn’t even wed yet, and already Li Shan was humiliating her with nonsense like “holding the wedding on the road.”

How truly arrogant he was—just as rumored. How was Yaoyao to survive such a future?

Gradually, Nanny Zheng’s eyes reddened with emotion.

Yaoyao, catching her reflection in the bronze mirror, noticed and said softly, “Nanny, the fact that I can leave Luoyang—it’s not such a bad thing.”

In recent days, to keep her from dwelling on troubling thoughts, Madam Lu and Nanny Zheng had been avoiding any mention of Li Shan or the marriage. But in the end, Nanny Zheng couldn’t help herself. She quickly dabbed her eyes and tried to smile. “Please forgive me, miss—I really was just overthinking.”

After Yaoyao’s hair was combed, she lay down on her bed and closed her eyes.

Madam Lu came by and, seeing her asleep, whispered to Nanny Zheng, “How is she?”

Nanny Zheng replied, “The young miss has a big heart—she even comforted me.”

Madam Lu could only sigh again.

Nanny Zheng drew the bed curtains, blew out the lamps, and left just a single small candle flickering. The room fell silent. Only then did Yaoyao slowly open her eyes. She turned over. Thinking about leaving Luoyang tomorrow made it hard to sleep. But her mother was already fraying at the edges—Yaoyao couldn’t afford to lose composure, too.

What’s done was done.

That night, she slept restlessly.

Before dawn, the sky was still a deep navy. A crisp birdsong stirred Yaoyao from her slumber. She rose, washed, and dressed for travel.

Because of the long journey ahead, she wore her hair in a looped twist, a moonlight-blue robe with narrow sleeves trimmed in watery patterns, and a pale cloak with subtle brocade designs draped over her shoulders. On her ears hung luminous crescent-drop earrings—pure, elegant, and quietly radiant.

She bowed deeply to her parents. “Father, Mother, I’m heading to Bingzhou now.”

Although Xie Zhaozhi was reluctant, he nodded—this was, after all, how a daughter of the Xie family ought to conduct herself. He gave a few words of advice.

Madam Lu, not wanting to upset her daughter, managed to force a smile.

Yao Yao couldn’t bring along all her handmaids and dowry maids. She took only a few: Nanny Zheng, Xin Zhu, and Mu Lan, then boarded the ox cart.

Outside the city gates, the Li family entourage had already been waiting. Among them was a carriage draped in crimson brocade—not ox-drawn, but horse-drawn. Li family guards in armor and plain robes flanked either side, composed and imposing.

Xin Zhi dismounted and called toward the carriage: “Miss Xie, I’m the deputy to General Li.”

Yaoyao responded from inside the carriage: “May I ask your surname?”

Xin Zhi replied, “I’m Xin, no need for formalities.”

Yaoyao said, “Deputy Xin, thank you for your trouble.”

Her voice was like a stream of sweet springwater. It made Xin Zhi a little bashful. “No trouble at all,” he replied.

He glanced at the ox and said, “We need to make it to Bingzhou quickly. This ox cart—its pace is far too slow.”

Nanny Zheng frowned. Traveling by ox cart was unavoidable; Luoyang had banned noble families from keeping horses. The Xie family had kept some in the past, but they’d all been given away for favors. She asked, “Deputy Xin, is there any solution?”

Xin Zhi hesitated. “Let’s see how things go… if it really doesn’t work…” But the truth was, he didn’t know what else could be done.

He didn’t dare decide to switch them to horses—Madam Qian was in the carriage ahead, and she was clearly no fan of the Xie girl. He didn’t want to invite trouble.

Nanny Zheng asked again, “May I ask—has Lord Li arrived?”

Xin Zhi replied, “Oh, our general had official duties—he left earlier.”