PMM - 45

It had been raining continuously in the south. The heavy rain had lasted for three days with no sign of stopping.

Xiang Han’s face was like a layer of frost covering his features. Never since becoming the city lord had he been so angry!

“Have you found the person?”

“R-reporting to the city lord, we’re still searching the valley. We only managed to intercept this.” The guard trembled as he held up a dead pigeon. Xiang Han’s eyes turned icy; he didn’t need to look at the note attached to the pigeon to know what it said.

—Yi Huan is in trouble. Beware of Xiang Han.

Xiang Han almost laughed at the man’s persistence. If they weren’t enemies, he might have thought Fu Cheng Yu was cut from the same cloth as him. The same kind of madman! Half a month ago, Xiang Han had surrounded an entire street with his men. Knowing the disparity in their forces, Fu Cheng Yu had gone berserk and attempted a breakout.

Using diversion tactics, he actually managed to carve a bloody path through the chaos. But the cost was severe—only a few of the soldiers he brought survived, and Fu Cheng Yu himself sustained serious injuries. He fled northward and was eventually cornered by Xiang Han in a valley.

The valley was vast, and finding one person wasn’t easy. Almost every day, they intercepted homing pigeons carrying messages.

If even a single message got out, they would lose their chance to take Yi Huan. But what Fu Cheng Yu didn’t know was that Xiang Han had already called off the operation. Yi Qian Cheng had returned to Shaji early, and Fengmu had already fallen. There was no longer any reason to risk kidnapping Lian Sheng and Yi Huan.

This was undoubtedly the biggest blunder of his carefully calculated schemes!

—Yi Qian Cheng returned to Shaji early, and Fu Cheng Yu went berserk to break through.

After being frustrated for several days, Xiang Han executed several subordinates and finally calmed down. For now, Yi Qian Cheng’s family was untouchable—but it didn’t matter. He had time, and Yi Qian Cheng wouldn’t invade his territory anytime soon.

Right now, he only wanted to kill Fu Cheng Yu! One of Yi Qian Cheng’s right-hand men? Then today, he would help Yi Qian Cheng sever one arm!

“Bring me my bow.”

A thin mist rose in the valley. Inside a cave, Fu Cheng Yu lay curled up against the stone wall, his eyes tightly shut, his lips pale. Even in the southern Huai region, the nights were still cold. A deep wound on his chest had worsened due to the chill, and he had developed a high fever.

In his delirium, he lost track of time and drifted through several dreams.

In his dreams, scenes shifted from when he was ten to twenty years old, almost all of them about Yi Huan. When he first met her at twelve, she had hidden behind a pillar, peeking shyly at him while forgetting that her skirt hem was still sticking out.

He had cried tears of frustration, glaring at her angrily, and she immediately shrank back, looking utterly terrified.

Later, he often reflected on himself. Was he really that frightening? Should he have been gentler from the start? And when she was thirteen, Fu Cheng Yu and Yi Qian Cheng had gone together to escort her down the mountain. She had brought gifts for everyone but hadn’t expected Fu Cheng Yu to come along.

After hesitating for a long time, she softly apologized to him, asking what he wanted so she could make it up to him later. He deliberately kept a sullen expression, pretending to be unhappy. Yi Huan spent the entire journey nervous and uneasy, stealing glances at him from time to time.

Beneath Fu Cheng Yu’s gloomy exterior, his heart was leaping with joy. How could such an innocent girl be so easy to deceive? Sensitive, fragile, delicate, as if she might break at the slightest touch—but also gentle, meticulous, and kind.

When she was fifteen, Fu Cheng Yu secretly planted a pomegranate tree in her courtyard. Pomegranate, pomegranate—”it stays.” Fu Cheng Yu had never believed in such superstitions before, but for some reason, he couldn’t bear to watch her leave time and time again. As the tree slowly grew, so did she.

But she probably still didn’t know where that tree had come from.

“Master, master...” Someone nudged his shoulder. Fu Cheng Yu opened his eyes to see the anxious face of a soldier.

“Are you alright? We couldn’t find the hairpin.”

Fu Cheng Yu’s head was spinning, and upon hearing this, he instinctively reached into his chest pocket—only to find it empty. He had lost the last thing Yi Huan had left him.

“Master, we need to leave quickly. Your wound is severe and needs treatment. Xiang Han has sent men to search the mountain, and there won’t be any messenger pigeons available for now.”

Hearing this, Fu Cheng Yu propped himself up: “Let’s go.” They had to get out. Being trapped here meant no way to send messages. Yi Huan and Lian Sheng couldn’t fall into Xiang Han’s hands. Xiang Han was determined to kidnap them, but Yi Huan’s body wouldn’t withstand it. Winter was especially hard on her; even a breeze could make her catch a cold. If she endured the journey from north to south in freezing conditions, her health wouldn’t hold up.

The sky in the valley was overcast as two soldiers supported him, walking through the thick fog.

As the mist began to thin, the sound of footsteps grew closer. The three of them exchanged glances, their expressions tense, and crouched down to hide in the bushes. This path was one they had only discovered the night before—it led out of the valley—but they hadn’t expected Xiang Han’s men to search it so early in the morning.

The footsteps drew nearer. Xiang Han’s men, armed with spears, were parting the grass to search. It wouldn’t be long before they found them.

“Master,” one of the soldiers whispered, “I’ll draw them away. You go first.”

Fu Cheng Yu’s eyes darkened. In this situation, whoever went out would become a live target. They were truly at the end of their rope.

The soldier slowly backed away, then suddenly bolted off in another direction. The commotion caught the attention of the search party, and someone shouted, “Over there! Chase him!”

The wind whistled past their ears, mingling with the overlapping sounds of hurried footsteps…

Fu Cheng Yu listened intently, his heart growing heavier with each passing moment.

~

After news of Yi Qian Cheng’s capture of Fengmu reached the imperial city, Liang Zhen could no longer sit still. He went to see Noble Consort Mi.

Noble Consort Mi was brewing tea. The pale green liquid paired beautifully with the white porcelain teacup. She pressed the lid down and poured another cup for Liang Zhen.

“Mother, if we let him grow any stronger, all of Great Liang will belong to him!”

Noble Consort Mi raised an eyebrow at him, her smile ambiguous: “And what does Zhen-er propose we do?”

“Mother!” His eyes gleamed momentarily. “Can Ling Jiuyao help us again? With his forces combined with Yingdong and the imperial city, we can surely kill Yi Qian Cheng.”

At the mention of Ling Jiuyao’s name, Noble Consort Mi’s expression shifted slightly. She laughed coldly: “And what makes you think he would still help us?”

“But... don’t you have something on him?”

“Using leverage too often turns it into a threat. Do you think he’d tolerate a threat hanging over him? The Ling family has always prioritized defense, their fortress impregnable. Ling Jiuyao doesn’t seek power, but that doesn’t mean he’s lenient. If we truly provoke his displeasure, the imperial city will suffer first.”

“This to consider, that to consider—what’s the point of being emperor if I must worry about everything!”

Noble Consort Mi said nothing, drinking the last of her tea. Watching her son rage, she felt a chill in her heart. If she could, how she wished for someone to rely on! But Ling Jiuyao had looked down on her twenty years ago, and now it was even less likely that he’d want her.

The tea rippled gently in its cup as Noble Consort Mi tightened her grip on it.

She didn’t know whether her decision back then was right or wrong. She had compromised, transforming herself from the wife of a city lord to an imperial noble consort. After decades of scheming and fighting in the palace, she had secured her position, only to find herself in the midst of a chaotic era.

~

Yan Yue changed into a water-red robe and headed to the estate to see her brothers.

She harbored no sibling affection for them. However, Mr. Fu Yi had passed along a message: Yi Qian Cheng would be visiting today. Yan Yue wasn’t a legitimate daughter of Fengmu. Even though she had later been recorded under the city lord’s wife’s name, in the eyes of the Yan family, she was nothing more than the child of a lowly concubine who had climbed her way into bed!

She had endured much suffering, even tolerating her eldest brother’s inappropriate advances, all to survive. She worked harder than anyone else at everything she did, finally earning her father’s recognition and being acknowledged as a legitimate daughter.

For over a decade, she harbored deep resentment toward every cruel and heartless member of the Yan family.

After waiting for a quarter of an hour, Yi Qian Cheng finally arrived at the estate. Yan Yue adjusted her hairpin and went to greet him. He wore a dark brocade robe, draped with a matching cloak, making him look like a piece of fine jade, his sharp features softened by a hint of aloofness.

Yan Yue bowed respectfully. Yi Qian Cheng nodded: “Miss Yan.”

“May I ask how General plans to handle my brothers? And what are your intentions for Fengmu?” Her tone was gentle as she lifted her gaze to look at him.

Yi Qian Cheng took a sip of tea, his displeasure rising. Though this young woman from the Yan family had been helpful, she was overstepping her bounds. Still, Yi Qian Cheng wouldn’t neglect those who had contributed. Despite his irritation, he kept his composure: “I will arrange for the two young masters to stay at the estate, ensuring they lack nothing in terms of food and clothing. As for Fengmu, someone will take care of it. Miss Yan worries too much.”

Not killing the young masters of Fengmu was already an act of great mercy. Throughout history, victors eliminated their enemies completely. By sparing the Yan family and providing them with comfortable accommodations, he was fulfilling his earlier promise to treat Yan Yue’s brothers well.

“On behalf of them, I thank you, General. The tea has grown cold. Allow me to brew you a fresh cup.”

Yi Qian Cheng frowned as she approached, skillfully preparing a new cup of tea. Through the rising steam, her pale wrists were faintly visible.

“General, please enjoy…” Suddenly, Yan Yue stumbled, her ankle twisting as she fell directly into Yi Qian Cheng’s arms. She adjusted her angle to prevent the teacup from spilling onto him, but the sound of shattering porcelain rang out as she collapsed against him.

“General—” She appeared startled, her eyes clouded with tears, biting her lip and looking up at him pitifully, evoking sympathy.

Unexpectedly, she met a pair of cold, mocking eyes. Yi Qian Cheng glanced at her, grabbed the back of her robe, and unceremoniously dragged her out of his arms. Yan Yue was stunned by his rough, merciless action, staring at him in disbelief.

“Don’t try this kind of trick. Know your place, and don’t provoke my anger.” His voice was cold, his gaze even colder, as if he were looking at something filthy.

Under such a piercing stare, Yan Yue trembled slightly. Yi Qian Cheng stood up and ignored her completely. Fearing that she would lose her chance if he left today, she hurriedly said: “General! I truly admire you from the bottom of my heart. Moreover, if you marry me, taking control of Fengmu will be legitimate.”

“Isn’t that the same reason you married the Lian girl? The Lian family is now in decline, while Fengmu is prosperous and strong. Whatever Lian Sheng can give you, I can give you too!”

He finally turned his head, his expression obscured by the backlight: “Whatever Lian Sheng can give me, you can give?”

Yan Yue brightened and nodded.

He sneered: “What are you? How dare you compare yourself to her?”

With that, he walked out without a second glance, leaving Yan Yue standing there, her face slowly turning pale.

When Yi Qian Cheng returned to the mansion, he didn’t see Lian Sheng anywhere. A small gray puppy scurried around on short legs, and his already displeased expression darkened further. If this dog didn’t please her, then keeping it would be meaningless…

Terrified by the icy look in his eyes, Lü’er’s mind went blank. She picked up the puppy and knelt down trembling: “General, I’ll take it away right now.”

He shifted his gaze and asked her: “Where is the Lady?”

“The... the Lady is in Miss Yi Huan’s courtyard. I heard that the pomegranate tree in her courtyard froze to death last night.”

“A pomegranate tree?” He didn’t recall any pomegranate tree in Yi Huan’s courtyard.

The pomegranate tree had indeed died. Yi Huan had woken up from a dream last night, her face wet with tears. She hadn’t been able to fall back asleep, feeling as though a piece of her heart was missing, the pain making it hard to breathe.

The next morning, frost still covered the courtyard. She called for the gardener and instructed him to dig up the soil around the roots of the pomegranate tree.

The withered and rotting roots were almost completely decayed in the soil. The gardener glanced awkwardly at Yi Huan, whose pale face was streaked with tears. He quickly apologized, explaining that he had thought the tree still had a chance of survival, not realizing its roots were already rotten. Perhaps because it was winter, the signs of decay had been slower to appear. But since the young lady was crying over a tree, it was undoubtedly his fault.

When Lian Sheng arrived and heard about this, she hurriedly consoled Yi Huan: “Huan’er, don’t be sad. If you like, we can plant a row of pomegranate trees in the courtyard, alright?”

Yi Huan’s face was pale, her black pupils unreadable. She shook her head: “Sister-in-law, don’t worry. I’m fine. It’s not necessary to bother.”

Lian Sheng was still worried about her and stayed to chat for a while, trying to distract her. When Yi Qian Cheng came to fetch her, he glanced at the lifeless pomegranate tree in the courtyard but said nothing, instead calling for a doctor.

The elderly doctor, who often treated Yi Huan, placed his fingers on her pulse and felt his heart skip a beat, heavy with unease. Her body… In his mind, he silently swallowed the words “oil nearly burned out.”

“Miss, take good care of yourself and avoid overthinking. Stop taking the medicine I previously prescribed. I’ll send over a new prescription later.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

After the doctor left, Yi Qian Cheng looked at Yi Huan: “Huan’er, what are you thinking about?”

This time, Yi Huan didn’t avoid the question. She clenched her fingers tightly: “Brother, have you heard any news about Fu Cheng Yu?”

Yi Qian Cheng had already guessed a little. He sighed and answered honestly: “It’s been a long time since he sent any messages. A few days ago, I sent someone to Yuanhuai to investigate. We should have news in a few days.” Yi Qian Cheng hesitated, feeling pity for her. “Don’t worry.”

Yi Huan nodded, her obedience tugging at his heartstrings.

Her gaze shifted to the window. The gardener had already removed the dead pomegranate tree, leaving an empty space where it once stood—a gaping hole. Before long, even that hole would be filled.

Nothing would remain.