Chapter 6

Not long after, Xin Zhi returned with the carriage, now outfitted with fresh horses, and reunited with Yaoyao and Nanny Zheng.

This time, the group traveled swiftly, bypassing the planned rest stop at Fuhuai County’s relay station. By the hour of the dog (around 7–9 pm), they finally stopped at the next waystation beyond Fuhuai.

In Da Qi, relay stations were established every forty li (about 20 km), while smaller waystations appeared every twenty li. These waystations were far more modest, rarely receiving officials of rank higher than seventh grade.

News arrived abruptly that two marquises of the Li family and their female relatives were to spend the night—this sent the station clerks into a flurry of panic. In their haste, they scrambled to prepare the only habitable area available. Even then, it was tiny and dilapidated: a two-section courtyard where the rear was divided by a wall into two small enclosed yards.

Madam Qian was assigned one, and the other west-facing room was still vacant.

“Don’t tell me they want us to sleep in the front yard?” Xin Zhu whispered nervously.

Yaoyao turned around. Through the open wooden door, she could see the front yard at a glance.

Only the rear looked like proper living quarters. The front yard had crumbling tiles, missing window panes, and beyond its foot traffic, the late spring night was still chilly. That yard offered no protection against the cold.

Nanny Zheng’s face stiffened instantly. “Would they dare?”

Though she sounded fierce, she wasn’t confident—earlier complaints hadn’t helped. Today’s journey had made the girl’s difficult position painfully clear. Fortunately, the Li family showed more consideration than they had earlier in the day, and the west-facing room was given to Yaoyao.

At least it was an enclosed, intact space. Yaoyao breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She ate a simple meal, weary to the point her eyes could barely stay open. Yet her love for cleanliness kept her from resting until she’d freshened up.

Nanny Zheng requested a bucket of hot water from Aunt Li. As she helped Yaoyao remove her outer garment, she couldn’t help gasping aloud. “What is this!”

Yaoyao looked down. Across her delicate collarbone spread a patch of redness—likely caused when Li Shan had grabbed her clothes to lift her onto the horse earlier. Her skin was always fair and sensitive; even a light pinch would leave it flushed. The mark looked alarming, but was painless.

She said softly, “Nanny, it doesn’t hurt.”

Nanny Zheng knew how fragile Yaoyao’s skin was. Still, tears welled in her eyes. “I’m angry—he treated you like an object, picking you up and putting you down as he pleased. If we were back in Luoyang, if the lady found out, surely she would’ve…”

Yaoyao lowered her eyes and gently touched the red mark with her fingertips. Being lifted and placed like an object, she disliked it. But more profoundly, she sensed the overwhelming power he held over her.

She closed her robe and said softly, “My family was the first to break the engagement. And for the sake of the Li family’s status, they were willing to send me far away to marry. I knew from the start that he would look down on me. As long as you all remain by my side, it’s as though I’m still basking in the warmth of my mother and sister. I’m content—I ask for nothing more.”

In this era, a woman’s maternal family was her support. The Xie family was eager to trade her away for an advantage, so she was bound to be in a weaker position within the Li household.

Treatments like Li Shan’s disregard today would likely become routine.

Yaoyao wanted to make things clear to Nanny Zheng, lest she act out of righteous anger and clash with the Li family, making matters worse.

Nanny Zheng was momentarily stunned. “Miss…”

A breeze stirred the candlelight beyond the window. Beneath the warm glow, Yaoyao sat quietly on a green sandalwood chair. Her features were delicate; her eyes beneath long lashes clear and bright, like moonlight flowing through the mortal world, with a glimmering starlit grace. Even the old and worn room took on a subtle and mysterious beauty.

It was only then that Nanny Zheng realized—her girl was no longer a child bundled in sleeves. The young lady had matured—elegant, composed, and gentle in spirit, yet far from fragile. A pang of guilt rose in her heart. Though she was Yaoyao’s nursemaid, she hadn’t seen things as clearly as the girl herself. Her tears shimmered with comfort as she whispered, “Don’t worry, miss. Xin Zhu and the others and I will always stay with you.”

After a full day of travel, everyone was exhausted. Nanny Zheng hurried to help Yaoyao wash up and lay out her bedding.

A message came from the Li family—this time delivered by Li Shan’s other deputy, Du Ming.

Compared to Xin Zhi, his expression was much colder, and his tone even more curt. “Tomorrow at the hour of the tiger. Departure must be on time—no delays.”

After delivering the message, he left.

Nanny Zheng frowned. “That’s far too early!”

Yaoyao had risen just past the hour of the rabbit (5–7 am) today. If they were to leave at the hour of the tiger (3-5 am) tomorrow, she would need to wake more than two hours earlier.

Back in Luoyang, Li Shan had always acted with unrestrained arrogance. Yaoyao had thought that heading north, even if not leisurely, would at least allow for some quiet moments. Yet the pace turned out to be relentless.

If one were to suggest that Li Shan was rushing for a wedding with Yaoyao, Nanny Zheng didn’t believe it.

Yaoyao gently grasped Nanny Zheng’s hand and said softly, “Everyone’s tired today. Let’s sleep together inside.”

Originally, Nanny Zheng and Xin Zhu were going to rest in the small side room, but with such an early departure the next morning and limited space, it would be impossible for everyone to get proper rest.

Seeing Nanny Zheng hesitate, Yaoyao tugged her hand again and blinked her clear, gentle eyes.

Faced with her young lady’s tender coaxing, Nanny Zheng couldn’t bring herself to refuse any longer. She relented, saying, “All right, tonight we’ll squeeze in together and trouble you for it, my lady.”

…

At the hour of the tiger the next day, the crescent moon hung like a hook, casting a cold, faint glow. The sky was still pitch-black, and torches had to be lit everywhere to see the path ahead.

Madam Qian groaned in exhaustion. “Why all the rush? Even if we took it slow, we’d reach Bingzhou before the seventh, wouldn’t we?”

Li Wang replied, “Lishan’s scheduling really is too tight this time.”

Seeing Li Wang about to offer advice to Li Shan, Madam Qian quickly cut him off. “Forget it. My carriage is comfy enough—I can even sleep on it. Don’t go provoking him.”

Li Wang muttered, “Why would I be provoking anyone?”

Madam Qian said, “Haven’t you noticed? Ever since we left Luoyang, without those rotten influences leading him astray, Lilang’s behavior has improved. He doesn’t go chasing after pleasures anymore. If you lecture him now, aren’t you just asking for trouble?”

Li Wang wanted to say that Li Shan had come to terms with things, no longer causing chaos over the marriage. But in truth, Li Wang found it harder and harder to control him. Besides, with the unit escorting Tuoba Cong ahead of them, moving quickly was necessary.

And so, day and night blurred together. The farther north they traveled, the drier the air became, with wild grass lining the roads and scenery that starkly contrasted with that of Luoyang.

Four days later, the Li family convoy entered the borders of Bingzhou, arriving at Huguan in Shangdang Prefecture. Shangdang had a history spanning hundreds of years—its city walls were lofty, solemn, and timeworn. On those walls, streaks of dark brown stains stood out sharply, impossible to ignore.

Yaoyao sat inside the carriage, gazing at the wall for a long time before asking Nanny Zheng, “What is that?”

Nanny Zheng was startled and quickly drew the curtain closed. “Miss, we shouldn’t look at that.”

But Yaoyao had already realized what it was. Her lips turned slightly pale.

Five years ago, the Hu people overran Yanmen, Xinxing, and Taiyuan prefectures, advancing swiftly toward Shangdang. Lord Xie Fei of the Xie family, stationed there, had failed in his command. Unable to hold out until imperial reinforcements arrived, he was forced to retreat, and Shangdang fell.

The Hu forces stormed the city, burning, killing, and looting. People were left destitute, and even now, the bloodstains on the rammed earth walls remained visible.

She turned her gaze away and saw Li Shan at the front of the convoy, dismounting. Before his deputies could even shout, the city gates creaked open.

The prefectural magistrate personally emerged, bowing deeply. “We have awaited your return for days, Governor and General. Please, come inside!”

Nanny Zheng murmured, “This demeanor isn’t sycophantic—it feels sincere.”

Once they entered the city, it became clear that the magistrate had restrained himself compared to the reception. Soldiers and civilians lined the streets, visibly stirred. Cries rang out one after another:

“The Governor returns! The General returns! All is well!”

“Welcome home, General!”

“…”

The crowd was thunderous. Nanny Zheng cradled Yaoyao’s head in her arms, covering her ears.

The carriage curtain fluttered in the wind. Through its slit, Yaoyao glimpsed the people outside and paused in surprise. She had witnessed the Li family’s triumphant return to Luoyang before—there, the crowds had been more curious than reverent. Many had come to gawk, wondering if the man who defeated the Hu tribes had three heads and six arms; others showed up to enjoy the bustle. Vendors moved between the throngs selling drinks and snacks.

But in Shangdang, the welcome was heartfelt. The locals had abandoned their fields and daily affairs just to greet them. Their eyes blazed with fervor. Even with the Li army lined up before them, they showed no fear.

Not only were Yaoyao and her attendants startled, but Madam Qian herself dared not even breathe too loudly.

Only when the party entered the Li residence did the crowd finally disperse.

Unlike the Li estate in Luoyang, the Bingzhou residence was the pre-existing Governor’s mansion. It had four courtyards and three gates, flanked by two stone lions. The buildings inside were stately and timeworn, having borne witness to the rise and fall of many officials.

Only a little more than three days remained until the seventh, but their schedule was more relaxed than Nanny Zheng had anticipated. She quickly got to work, having Xin Zhu and Mu Lan deliver Madam Lu’s invitations to old friends of the Xie family in Bingzhou, while also negotiating with Madam Qian.

But Madam Qian was unwilling to host a grand affair, citing exhaustion from travel.

A transparent excuse, which left Nanny Zheng somewhat frustrated. Still, as long as the essential rituals were preserved, she wouldn’t argue. For now, the atmosphere inside the Li residence grew more peaceful.

That night, Yaoyao knelt on the couch in her room. By the dim candlelight, she opened a letter.

It was from Madam Lu, freshly sent from Luoyang by a rushed courier—every line brimmed with concern.

Yaoyao took up her brush and, after a moment’s reflection, slowly wrote: Dearest Mother, may you be at peace. I arrived in Bingzhou on the fourth day; the scenery here is radiant.

Her calligraphy followed the style of Master Gu—full strokes flowing smoothly—but she had infused it with her own habits, crafting a distinct elegance.

Xin Zhu, standing beside her to assist with ink and paper, watched her write and felt a pang. Their young lady had been left behind during the journey north, and now was immersed in marriage preparations with no moments of leisure. Yet not a trace of hardship showed in the letter.

At the end, Yaoyao gently bit the end of her brush and added: A virtuous man, a rare gem in this world—your daughter feels a stirring in her heart, awaiting the day of union.

Xin Zhu quickly averted her gaze—she understood. Her young lady had only shown traces of sentiment at the end of the letter to keep Madam Lu, hundreds of miles away, from worrying night and day. But the truth was, since arriving in Bingzhou, Yaoyao hadn’t even seen Li Shan once—how could there be real affection?

The letter was carefully sealed in cotton paper and delivered to the Huguan relay station, eventually reaching the local postal inspector. Any correspondence sent out from the Li residence—especially those destined for Luoyang—had to be thoroughly vetted to prevent leaks of military or strategic information. Even personal letters were no exception.

As the future mistress of the Li household, Miss Xie’s mail wasn’t something the inspector dared to handle on his own.

That day, near the end of the hour of the dog, Li Shan had just returned from Xiangyuan. He strode into the room with long, purposeful steps, and Xin Zhi hurried to catch up behind him.

“The Governor asked me to remind you—your wedding is tomorrow,” he said.

Li Shan replied, “I haven’t forgotten.”

From his tone, it was clear he held no anticipation for the event. Xin Zhi broke into a nervous sweat. Yet the next matter still concerned the Xie family’s daughter. He handed over a letter. “Miss Xie sent this to Luoyang. The inspector didn’t dare read it and requested that the general review it for any irregularities.”

Li Shan paused, his gaze darkening slightly, and took the letter with one hand. He unfolded it and scanned it swiftly.

Xin Zhi held his breath. On the journey, he had once left Miss Xie behind—and just imagining what she might have written in complaint or even insult made him sweat. He’d only just recovered from the military punishment he received days ago. If Li Shan blew up again, he hoped to find an excuse to escape quickly.

But as Li Shan continued reading, the explosion never came.