PMM - 47

Their argument ended bitterly—their first real cold war.

Yi Qian Cheng was infuriated by her defense of Lian Qi. The seed of jealousy had been planted long ago, and now those prying letters had pushed him to his breaking point. The thought that another man had spent over a decade by her side, watching her grow up, filled him with uncontrollable envy.

Lian Sheng sensed that her brother’s feelings for her were inappropriate, but she refused to acknowledge it. Yi Qian Cheng’s biting sarcasm stung her deeply. She didn’t know whether his mockery was directed at her or Lian Qi, but the taboo of incestuous feelings between siblings was unspeakable and violated moral principles. That Yi Qian Cheng had secretly dealt with Xi Yu was proof enough of how enraged he was.

The weight of Xi Yu’s death and her brother’s feelings pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe.

Yi Qian Cheng’s way of initiating a cold war left Lian Sheng feeling both humiliated and frustrated. He refused to speak to her, but every time she inadvertently raised her eyes, she would catch his gaze fixed on her—dark, intense, as if he wanted to devour her whole.

And he truly did. Without a word, he entered her, his movements deliberate and forceful. His arms braced on either side of her, his posture one of complete possession, relentless in his dominance. (Censored content)

Lian Sheng’s stubborn nature took over, and she bit her lip to stifle any sound, tears welling up in her watery eyes. (Censored content)

Her ability to endure only amused and exasperated him further. The next day, he changed tactics, taking his time with foreplay but moving at an agonizingly slow pace.

Tears blurred her vision as she struggled to control the sensations overwhelming her. (More censored content)

Yet Yi Qian Cheng was determined to push her limits. Even he wasn’t immune to the strain—sweat beaded on his forehead despite the winter chill—but his dark eyes never wavered from her.

Lian Sheng let out a soft moan, her cheeks flushed crimson. She bit her hand to muffle the sound and closed her eyes, refusing to look at him.

This twisted game of mutual torment ended when he could no longer restrain himself, his pace quickening until dawn broke.

It was painfully obvious that the two were at odds, and the servants couldn’t help but gossip. Upon hearing about it, Yan Yue, who had been disheartened, saw an opportunity. If Lian Sheng had displeased the general, perhaps she could offer some comfort.

She had underestimated Yi Qian Cheng’s loyalty to Lian Sheng before, using the simplest methods to try and seduce him. In her subconscious mind, she believed that any man with ambitions to rule the world wouldn’t settle for just one woman.

This time, she brought two jugs of wine and went with Fu Yi to visit.

She sought out Yi Qian Cheng, while Fu Yi went to see Lian Sheng.

When Lu’er reported that Strategist Fu Yi had come to call, Lian Sheng was surprised: “Strategist Fu Yi? Why would he want to see me?”

Fu Yi waited for her in the front courtyard, bowing respectfully before asking, “Does my lady know how difficult it has been for the general to reach this point?”

Lian Sheng paused, then nodded. Her husband had lost his parents at seventeen, fought off external enemies, fortified the city, and shouldered immense responsibilities even before coming of age. From rescuing Yingdong to seizing Fengmu, every step had been fraught with challenges.

“But what you see is only a small part of the picture. The general trained tirelessly through all seasons. During the years when the emperor viewed him as a thorn in his side, he volunteered to become a general instead of a city lord, dedicating himself to defending the empire. The emperor eventually relaxed, likely thinking that a teenager couldn’t possibly cause much trouble.”

Hearing this, Lian Sheng’s heart tightened with pain. Before coming to Shaji, she had wondered why Yi Qian Cheng, a city lord, was called “General.” She had assumed it was to remind himself to keep training his troops to protect Shaji, but now she realized it was to ease the old emperor’s suspicions.

“To be honest, the title of city lord was never formally bestowed upon the general. But as his power grew, no one dared to object or bring it up. I’ve watched the general grow, and I can’t bear to see his efforts go to waste. My lady, do you feel no pity?”

At this point, Lian Sheng understood where Fu Yi was heading. “Strategist, please speak plainly. What do you wish me to do?”

“I hope you will persuade the general to take Miss Yan Yue as a concubine. With Fengmu now under Shaji’s control, a marriage alliance between the two cities would bring great benefits. It would greatly aid the general’s campaigns against Yuanhuai and Huanshui.”

Lian Sheng’s expression shifted. She hadn’t expected such a respected strategist to say these words to her. No woman willingly shared her husband with another, no matter how magnanimous she might be. She adored Yi Qian Cheng and had no intention of letting him go to anyone else.

“I once thought you were a man who understood worldly affairs and possessed the talent to govern a nation—a man worthy of respect. But I never imagined you’d disappoint me so deeply. As you said, my husband secured a city at seventeen through his own strength and military prowess. He has never relied on women, and he never will. He is a living, breathing person, not a tool to be manipulated for gain. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear your words today, and I hope you won’t repeat them.”

Fu Yi, who had lived half a lifetime, was taken aback to be scolded by a young woman. He snapped, “Does my lady care nothing for the general’s future?”

Lian Sheng had already taken a few steps toward the courtyard but turned back at his words. “You’re wrong. His future doesn’t depend on anyone. I believe in him. Even if he were alone and had nothing, he would still command the respect of the entire world.”

With that, she walked into the courtyard. Just as she reached the door, Fu Yi’s voice rang out behind her: “My lady, do you know why the general married you?”

Lian Sheng froze for a moment but didn’t respond, stepping into the courtyard instead. She had once wanted to ask Fu Yi why Yi Qian Cheng had suddenly changed his mind about marrying her. Now, unexpectedly, she learned the answer today in this manner.

---

The two jugs of wine Yan Yue brought were called “Drunken Mandarin Ducks,” the most famous liquor from Fengmu, symbolizing the best of blessings.

Despite all her calculations, she couldn’t even enter Yi Qian Cheng’s study. The guard blocked her path, announcing firmly: “The general’s study is a restricted area. Not just anyone can enter. Please leave, miss.”

Yan Yue felt a flicker of embarrassment but softened her tone: “I’ve brought two jugs of wine for the general.” She was certain Yi Qian Cheng could hear her.

The guard didn’t budge an inch, standing steadfast in her way, clearly unmoved. Yan Yue felt a surge of irritation but realized she wouldn’t get anywhere today. Reluctantly, she asked, “Then could you… please deliver the wine to the general for me?”

Still, the guard gave no response. Unwilling to leave empty-handed, Yan Yue lingered. After a moment, the door creaked open. Yi Qian Cheng emerged, his expression stern as he approached her. Yan Yue’s heart leapt with hope, but before she could speak, his cold voice cut through the air: “I warned you before, miss. Don’t try these tricks. If you’re lacking a man, there are hundreds of thousands of soldiers in my camp waiting for you.”

This woman overestimated herself far too much. Though he acknowledged her contributions and treated the two young masters of the Yan family generously, she shouldn’t covet what wasn’t hers. Even without her information, conquering Fengmu or planting spies wouldn’t have been difficult tasks.

There was no trace of jest in his words, only the merciless and cruel tone of someone in a position of power, as if she were nothing more than a lowly servant. Yan Yue’s face turned deathly pale.

“General, how could you humiliate me like this?”

“Then I suggest Miss Yan stop presenting yourself for humiliation. My patience has run out. You now have two choices: either return to Fengmu on your own, or I’ll personally escort you to the military camp.”

He had no intention of becoming further entangled with her. He assumed she would know what to choose.

Yi Qian Cheng turned and walked away. The New Year celebrations were over, and it was time to make the final decisions. Fang Mu’s death could not go unavenged, and Yingdong had to be reclaimed. This time, he wouldn’t show any courtesy to the Lian family—he would lead his troops straight into Yingdong.

Having lost Fengmu, Xiang Han began frequently contacting Huanshui. In Yi Qian Cheng’s eyes, they were nothing but a disorganized mob with conflicting goals. Ling Jiuyao’s support for Liang Zhen’s ascension to the throne surely had hidden motives behind it. Now, however, Ling Jiuyao might not be so easily swayed—after all, Huanshui was known as the hardest nut to crack.

As Yi Qian Cheng prepared to attack Yingdong, he decided to tell Lian Sheng. After capturing Yingdong the first time, he had resolved to share both fortune and misfortune with her, never again concealing anything about Yingdong.

Lian Sheng listened intently, her fingers tightly clenched. She had always known this day would come, but she hadn’t expected it to arrive so soon.

On both sides were her loved ones, and she was caught in the most painful position.

“Husband,” she spoke softly, their first conversation in many days. “If you win, could you spare my family’s lives?”

“A-Sheng, what if I lose? If I die at Lian Qi’s hands, what will you do then?”

Lian Sheng raised her eyes to look at him. It was strange, but she had never once considered the possibility of him losing. From the very beginning, he had given her an unparalleled sense of security that no one else could replace. At his question, her mind instinctively recalled the promise she had made when she first came to Shaji: Through life and death, we will never part.

Those eight words were too heavy, rolling around on her tongue but ultimately remaining unspoken. In her ears lingered Fu Yi’s earlier words: My lady, do you know why the general married you?

Her silence chilled Yi Qian Cheng’s heart. It seemed that from the very start, the one who had loved until it hurt was only him. No matter how much he cherished her, he could never compare to Lian Qi, who had protected her since childhood.

Yi Qian Cheng thought he would feel anger, but he didn’t. Instead, he felt only fear—fear that she had never truly loved him, that everything between them had been an illusion. He feared that if he died on the battlefield, she would forget him entirely.

Even his bones trembled with pain, yet he managed to force out four words: “I promise you.” If he defeated Lian Qi, he would spare his life on the battlefield.

He stood up, intending to leave for the military camp. Having made the decision to attack Yingdong, there was no room left for hesitation.

“Husband!” Lian Sheng couldn’t help but call out. He stopped and turned back to look at her, his dark pupils deep and holding a flicker of expectation.

“No matter what happens, I’ll wait for you to return.” I believe in your invincibility, but if fate turns against you, I will remain in Shaji forever, waiting for you to come back.

---

The misty city of Huanshui had always been the most peaceful and tranquil place throughout history.

Ling Jiuyao sat aboard a decorated pleasure boat, his authoritative voice echoing: “Has Consort Mi delivered what she promised me?”

From the stern of the boat, someone replied: “To answer Your Lordship, Consort Mi hasn’t sent anything. However, both His Majesty and Lord Xiang Han of Yuanhuai have written letters to you. Would you like to read them?”

Ling Jiuyao held a black chess piece, playing against himself. Instinctively, he wanted to refuse—he detested being involved in such messy affairs. But after some thought, he said, “Bring them in.”

He first opened Xiang Han’s letter. The message tactfully expressed concern over Yi Qian Cheng’s growing power, warning that if left unchecked, Huanshui would eventually meet the same fate as Yingdong and Yuanhuai. The best course of action, it suggested, was for several cities to unite and oppose Yi Qian Cheng.

Ling Jiuyao chuckled and tossed the letter aside. He may have grown old and fond of reminiscing about the past, but that didn’t mean he was willing to cooperate with a ruthless wolf like Xiang Han. Yi Qian Cheng had captured Fengmu and ordered the opening of trade routes, leaving the common people undisturbed and refraining from killing surrendered soldiers. If Ling Jiuyao remembered correctly, Xiang Han had once attempted to annex Fengmu and launched an attack. Back then, the lord of Fengmu was Yan Rong, who wasn’t one to suffer losses easily and had caused Xiang Han significant trouble.

Later, during another conflict, Xiang Han had captured three thousand Fengmu soldiers and ordered them all buried alive, just to intimidate Yan Rong. Such brutality was something Ling Jiuyao despised the most.

Ling Jiuyao didn’t care who became emperor or ruled the land. He had fought for everything he wanted in his youth, and only in old age did he realize he had lost the things he cared about most.

Lost in thought, it took him a while before he picked up Liang Zhen’s letter.

Liang Zhen began by expressing gratitude for Ling Jiuyao’s assistance in securing his position, rambling on with unnecessary pleasantries before finally asking Ling Jiuyao to help him once more—for the sake of Consort Mi—to join forces with Lian Qi and oppose Yi Qian Cheng.

Ling Jiuyao sighed and shook his head, a hint of amusement in his heart. Which eye of Liang Zhen saw him doing favors for Consort Mi? If not for the woman who had disappeared from his life years ago, he wouldn’t have even agreed to help Liang Zhen seize the throne.

The game of chess could no longer continue. As expected, once disturbed by worldly affairs, peace of mind was impossible to maintain.

Ling Feng stood on the shore, asking one of his father’s attendants: “Is Father on the pleasure boat again?”

The attendant nodded. Ling Feng’s expression darkened, feeling helpless. His father adored this boat, but the winter winds were strong, and Ling Feng worried he might catch a chill. He boarded the boat and saw Ling Jiuyao gazing out the window, lost in thought, with a half-finished chess game on the table.

“Father, the winds are strong here. Won’t you return to the mansion?”

Ling Jiuyao turned his head, seeing his eldest son, and relaxed his furrowed brows: “Ah, it’s Feng. Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

Ling Feng hesitated for a moment before finally voicing the question that had been on his mind for years: “Father, if you miss her so much, why don’t you go find her?”

A trace of sorrow filled Ling Jiuyao’s eyes: “She hates me. I wronged her, and she never wants to see me again.”

Back then, he had searched frantically for her across several cities, but she had vanished without a trace, as if she had ceased to exist.

Ling Feng spoke softly: “Once there’s news from Consort Mi, you can go look for her again, Father. I’ll accompany you.” His tone was respectful and gentle. Ling Jiuyao, unable to dispel the longing in his heart, nodded.