Chapter 14: Pei Zhao

Ling Bo did not have the chance to discuss the question A Cuo asked her until the next day.

“Have you ever been in love with someone?” she asked abruptly.

At that moment, Shen Biwei was tending to her bow. Over the years, Ling Bo had learned a thing or two about it. When not in use, the bowstring was always removed, and it required maintenance at least once every half month—applying rosin, oiling the horn bow, waxing the wooden bow.

Without looking up, Shen Biwei maintained her usual indifference to such topics.

“No.” She stretched a bowstring repeatedly against the table corner. “Why do you ask?”

“Has anyone ever liked you?” Ling Bo pressed.

“A few. Why the sudden interest?” Shen Biwei raised her eyes to look at her. “Have you taken a fancy to someone?”

“No one in particular. A Cuo just suddenly asked me this question, so I was thinking about how to explain it to her.” Ling Bo disdainfully pushed away the bow that Shen Biwei was using to prod her chin.

Shen Biwei immediately smiled.

“You? Teaching others? All talk, no action.”

Ling Bo bristled at once.

“Aren’t you just all talk?”

“I’ve seen my old man.” Shen Biwei said. “Haven’t you heard the storyteller say that back when my old man fought barbarians at Duanlong River, he was frozen stiff? My grandmother went with the others to retrieve his body and carried him on her back all night, holding onto the tiniest bit of warmth at his heart, and that’s how she saved him. Since then, he obeyed her for life, never dared to turn west when she told him to go east. Which other noble family in the capital has a story like that?”

“Duke Yong is profoundly devoted and loyal. The fact he never took another wife or concubine is unique among the nobility. Otherwise, your mother wouldn’t be his only daughter...” Ling Bo said.

“Listen to your tone, so pragmatic, as if life’s only purpose is to produce sons.” Shen Biwei said. “My old man didn’t care about that. He loved my grandmother for more than just that—they grew up together. He was always mischievous, broke a few sticks in fights, always grinning. My grandmother cried when she saw him getting beaten, and he feared nothing except her tears. When she died at forty, he rode for three days and nights to get home and, upon arrival, saw the entire manor in mourning. A man who never cried, his eyes bled from weeping. Even now, he suffers from headaches every winter.”

Ling Bo pursed her lips and fell silent.

She was a daughter of a father and had seen the nobles in the capital; naturally, she understood the weight of this story.

“You asked if I’ve seen love. I have, but I don’t think I’ll ever see it again. What is love? Only the most sincere and genuine souls possess it. The nobles in the capital are born into riches, raised in deep courtyards, and when they come of age, they indulge in poetry, wine, pleasure houses, and mistresses. They never truly grew up—just arrogant, greedy children, not even adults, much less men. They’ve never faced life or death, never seen the winds of the frontier or the moon over the south. They’ve never accomplished anything with their own hands or borne any responsibility for others. How can they speak of love?”

Shen Biwei, unusually talkative, left Ling Bo silent. She herself remained calm and continued to fiddle with the bow. Seeing Ling Bo’s downcast eyes, she said, “Enough brooding, let’s go outside and have some fun.”

“Riding again? I’m not going, my legs ache from the last time,” Ling Bo complained.

“Don’t worry, no riding today.” Shen Biwei mimicked Ling Bo’s tone. “Master Shen is hosting a banquet at the villa for the Northern Garrison generals. Let’s go see the excitement.”

Ling Bo frowned immediately.

“The Northern Garrison is a coveted prize but also a hot potato. Your father is a civil official; it’s not proper to mingle casually with them...”

“Exactly.” Shen Biwei smiled. “Master Shen is a seasoned player. The Northern Garrison is divided into factions. Your former brother-in-law, Cui Jingyu, belongs to Marshal Wei’s faction, which is quite powerful. The Emperor wants to balance powers, so Master Shen is testing the waters. The generals invited tonight are from the opposing faction, none I know. Even Cui Jingyu and Marshal Wei are absent, as is that scoundrel Wei Yushan.”

She explained to Ling Bo.

Ling Bo paid no mind to the military intrigues, pointing instead at the main path through the villa, asking, “Who’s that?”

“Oh, that’s the Prince of Ping. The man beside him, nicknamed Zhao Xima, I forgot his given name—he’s a fallen royal without a title, indulging in all vices, now acting as the prince’s retainer. He’s gotten mixed up in lending money and was recently caught by the Capital Magistrate’s office. The prince bailed him out. Master Shen is like that—keeping low profile but always gathering such people.”

Ling Bo narrowed her eyes. She had a natural instinct for people who skillfully navigated social circles, as if she could spot the know-it-all among the servants in a large mansion.

When the Prince of Ping entered, Master Shen greeted him personally. The generals fawned over him, and Zhao Xima strutted arrogantly amidst the crowd.

But Ling Bo noticed someone else.

At first, she didn’t recognize him, only that his teal brocade robe was familiar. What caught her attention was Zhao Xima shouting to a few men about setting up a gambling den, apparently about to confront some others.

One man saw Zhao Xima from afar and immediately turned to leave.

The villa’s narrow paths left only one way out. The man dodged into the woods, then climbed a tree about a story high to hide. When he turned his face, he locked eyes with Ling Bo, who was standing on the viewing pavilion.

Ling Bo recognized him at once.

He was the handsome general in the teal brocade who had blocked their carriage the other day with Cui Jingyu. Exceptionally good-looking, the perfect material for a son-in-law, with peach blossom eyes that remained charming even when he was awkwardly perched in a tree. When he smiled, his eyes curved mesmerizingly.

Seeing Shen Biwei behind Ling Bo, he clearly did not want to disturb the hosts and put a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture.

He probably took Ling Bo for a sheltered young lady who’d be flustered at the sight of a man.

“Biwei, help me pick a branch of plum blossoms downstairs. I want to sketch.” He said, “Don’t let them go—your picking is better.”

Shen Biwei obediently went. Sometimes she indulged Ling Bo quite a bit.

He was surprised Ling Bo dared to send Shen Biwei away and admired her courage.

“What’s your name?” Ling Bo asked.

“Pei Zhao.” He casually sat on a branch, smiling at Ling Bo. The evergreen pine needles framed his face—beautiful people looked good doing anything.

He clearly waited for Ling Bo to reveal her name, but Ling Bo wasn’t about to tell an unknown frontier soldier.

“Why are you avoiding Zhao Xima?” Ling Bo was unmoved by his charm. “Do you owe him money?”

Pei Zhao just smiled ambiguously.

“How much?”

He raised his hand, wiggling his long, scholar-like fingers, clearly indicating “one hundred.” Ling Bo sneered.

The Northern Garrison had just come to the capital for the Emperor’s reward. As a general, his salary shouldn’t be lower than Wei Yushan’s. Yet in only three days, he had lost everything and was still in debt to Zhao Xima for one hundred taels—a sum enough to support a dozen households for a year. No wonder he looked so carefree and charming—he had the temperament of a gambler.

“How’s this plum blossom?” Shen Biwei appeared on the pavilion with the branch. Ling Bo looked back, then turned again, but he was gone.

—

Master Shen’s banquet saw few early departures. After all, he was a rising star among the civil officials in the capital, the Emperor’s confidant. Though he had only recently risen in the last decade, his foundation was solid in the ever-shifting court.

This dynasty was founded on military strength, so generals were especially watched. The frontier wars continued, so unlike previous reigns, the military was not neglected. The Emperor devised a new system: civil officials controlled generals, and the Emperor controlled civil officials. To prevent collusion, civil officials were treated like leeks—grown and cut repeatedly. The capital’s great families were mostly new, but old noble houses like Duke Yong’s endured.

The Northern Garrison’s victorious generals came to the capital for rewards, but with more generals than titles, grudges simmered. The last marquis title remained unsettled, and everyone vied fiercely. Master Shen was the Emperor’s stabilizing force; other generals circled him like goldfish fighting over food.

Pei Zhao left early.

He was a curious man—distant to all but able to get along with everyone. Had he not fought alongside them, people might suspect he was a pretty face sneaking into the army.

Today, he seemed to be avoiding someone. Ignoring his two companions’ pleas, he drank twice then left the Shen mansion. The generals’ horses were kept in Shen’s stables; his was tied at the second gate. An old mute servant watched him mount. Just as he rode away, a sedan chair blocked the path—four bearers and a middle-aged steward stood in the way.

“Yang Wu.” The lady inside called.

Yang Wu hesitated but obeyed, handing a small wooden box to the steward.

Pei Zhao wasn’t surprised. Smiling, he accepted the box and opened it: five small gold ingots, one tael each. One tael of gold was worth ten taels of silver, just enough to cover his hundred taels debt.

He held the ingots up to the sunlight, leisurely examining them.

Neither asked questions. Seeing his love of money, Ling Bo only said, “Lift the sedan.”

As the steward’s daughter, Ling Bo commanded her servants with ease. Yang Wu didn’t understand the subtle meaning behind this discreet gift but obediently ordered the bearers to lift the chair.

Inside, Xiao Liu leaned by the window, watching the slender figure in teal, accompanied by an old servant and a skinny horse, growing smaller in the distance.

“He’s handsome, truly handsome, far better than Wei Yushan,” she sighed seriously. “Why does he have to be a gambler?”

“Handsome men always cause trouble, unwilling to endure hardship.” Ling Bo sneered. “He’s obviously clever, easy to fall into gambling. How else could he lose all his wages and rewards within days of arriving at the capital, and still owe Zhao Xima a hundred taels? Even strong dragons can’t dominate local snakes. These are all set-ups—if not him, then who?”

Xiao Liu nodded repeatedly.

“You’re amazing, Miss. You saw through him at a glance.”

Ling Bo snorted.

“Do you think I don’t recognize people like him? Four days ago, he followed Cui Jingyu; now he’s at Master Shen’s banquet. He’s a fence-sitting opportunist, skating on every side. No matter which way the wind blows, he never falls.”

Xiao Liu suddenly covered her mouth, stifling a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re just like him, Miss. No wonder you recognized him instantly.”

Ling Bo laughed in spite of herself.

“I think you’re itching for trouble.” She teased. “I’m nothing like him, just the methods. I use tactics for those I care about. Him? Look at his shabby state. Even his old servant looks pitiful, and his horse is as thin as a donkey. It’s a sin!”

“He should use the money to buy feed for his horse and clothes for his servant.”

“A lousy gambler? Would he do that?” Ling Bo lifted her chin confidently. “Don’t worry, he probably won’t even repay the debt. Even if he does, he’ll lose it all again and have to borrow more...”

“I get it. You gave him money without a word because you knew he’d run out again and come back to you. Then, when you ask, he’ll have to comply.”

“That’s right. I want to plant a seed in his heart. I’m not afraid he won’t come looking for me.”

—

After planting her seed, Ling Bo returned home with Xiao Liu. Soon, Xiao Liu’s brother, Liu Ji, a servant in the Ye household, came with news. Ling Bo listened carefully behind the curtain.

“Found out some things. Pei Zhao is a junior general in the Fire Camp. He has some military merit. He’s a conscripted refugee, originally from Shanxi, has served five or six years, and no known family—probably all starved to death.”

Ling Bo sipped her tea, frowning deeply.

“A junior general, yet his horse is that starved.” She glanced at Xiao Liu, who immediately understood and produced a handful of small silver coins as a reward for Liu Ji.

“Keep watch on him for me. Don’t bother about the Mountain Camp; Cui Jingyu’s strict, and you won’t get much. Take care of Pei Zhao—I have plans for him.”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Be generous with the money. If you run out, tell Xiao Liu.”

Liu Ji nodded repeatedly. “I haven’t spent the last amount you gave me yet.” Then he left. At the door, he paused and glanced at Lady Yang.

Ling Bo immediately understood. “Lady Yang, ask the kitchen how dinner preparations are going. Is the clove soup for sister ready?”

After Lady Yang was sent away, Liu Ji approached without further words. “My brother said the household received a reply note.”

“From which family?” Ling Bo pressed.

Liu Ji withheld details to avoid implicating anyone. “Second Miss will know when she sees it.”

—

That evening, Qing Lan entered to find Ling Bo ready and waiting, with Xiao Liu and Lady Yang beside her. Ling Bo held a formal invitation.

“What’s this?” Qing Lan smiled. “Why aren’t we eating yet?”

“The meal is ready, but we must review this first.” Ling Bo smiled back.

“Review what? You were just at Biwei’s place today. Why review me now?”

“You have some nerve.” Ling Bo pushed the invitation forward. “Why did you send a message to the Wei family without telling me? Their reply arrived, and I was completely in the dark.”

Usually gentle and refined, Qing Lan’s elder sisterly authority now came through. She held the note without a word and sat beside Ling Bo, who instantly ceased teasing.

“Alright, I won’t review you. Tell me, what’s going on between you and the Wei family?” Ling Bo quickly switched from interrogator to sister, clinging to Qing Lan’s arm.

Qing Lan was helpless before her.

“It’s just that Wei Yushan is disgraceful. Blocking our carriage that night was bad enough, but he even touched A Cuo and Yan Yan’s sedan curtains—so rude. I wrote a note to the Wei family to apologize. Madame Wei understood immediately. She just had to reprimand Wei Yushan, and he wouldn’t dare do it again.”

“So that’s it.” Ling Bo smiled helplessly. “You don’t care about your own affairs but always stand up for us.”

“This year’s Flower Message Banquet is a big deal. I can’t let my issues delay you.” Qing Lan said. “Actually, I’ve already given up. They’ve largely let it go; it’s just Wei Yushan, a childish temper, still sulking.”

“Given up? I refuse to.” Ling Bo grabbed her, probing. “I don’t understand. Who is ‘he’? Why would seeing him make you give up? If you’ve given up, why do you all still avoid looking at each other?”

Qing Lan said nothing, standing to change the subject. “How’s dinner coming? Let me see.”

When she forced the topic away, Ling Bo let it go. After the meal, they sat a while longer.

Ling Bo then called A Cuo and Yan Yan. “Sit a bit longer to digest, then off to bed. We have an early visit tomorrow.”

“A visit?” Qing Lan, reading, looked puzzled.

“Didn’t I just say?” Ling Bo feigned innocence. “Madame Wei replied, apologized for Wei Yushan’s behavior, and invited you to visit. It’s been four years since they parted, and they still remember you. I thought, why wait? I already sent the reply. Tomorrow, we’ll visit their mansion. I suspect they’re probably punishing Wei Yushan as we speak.”