Chapter 25

Borrowing the Tiger’s Authority

Amidst the chaos, a crisp sound of jade bells echoed through the city. The rhythmic clatter of hooves grew louder, signaling the approach of an elaborate procession. 

The crowd fell into an eerie silence as a golden palanquin came into view, surrounded by attendants holding silk fans adorned with gold patterns. Beaded curtains and embroidered plaques hung from its sides—a royal entourage unmistakably belonging to an Imperial Princess. 

Yet, what struck the onlookers was that this golden palanquin was flanked by Qi soldiers and followed closely behind an opulent carriage. 

A eunuch’s voice rang out in a high-pitched proclamation: 

“Welcome General Wanyan and Princess Lingfu into the city!” 

The crowd responded not with cheers, but with quiet, bitter tears. 

The people of Lidu had all heard the stories. When Bianliang fell, the Qi army had taken the emperor captive, along with the noble women of the royal family. During the humiliating ceremony to present their prisoners, the emperor had been forced to strip his imperial robes, while the others—men and women alike—had to strip down, don sheepskin cloaks, and bind their waists with felt strips before bowing in servitude at the Qi ancestral shrine. 

Afterward, the noblewomen, concubines, and princesses were distributed as spoils of war: some became concubines of Qi nobility, others were relegated to military brothels, and some became slaves. Not a single one was spared from this unparalleled humiliation in a century. 

Princess Lingfu, one of the captives from that time, now reappeared in Lidu. Her imperial insignia was granted by the Qi, her golden palanquin untouched on the surface, but behind the veil of luxury, one could only imagine the suffering she had endured. 

The carriage halted at the city gates. The man inside lifted the curtain and addressed the crowd with a cold, clear voice: 

“Is this how you welcome the return of Princess Lingfu?” 

No one dared respond. 

The man continued: 

“You are all subjects of Princess Lingfu. Any who cease their rebellion today will not be held accountable for their actions.” 

Faced with their former princess, the people could not refuse. Even though they knew this was the Qi flaunting their dominance in silence, they still had to greet their princess with the deference of loyal subjects. 

The dense, confrontational crowd grew unnervingly quiet. Like waves retreating from the shore, the people silently made way for the procession to enter the city. 

Nan Yi suddenly understood—this was what Xie Queshan had meant by “the one playing the good cop.” Another high-ranking official of Qi had arrived in Lidu, and their entourage entered the city, trampling over the dignity of the Yuzhao people. 

“I’ll kill them.” 

Xie Suian’s voice was soft but resolute, each word cutting clearly into Nan Yi’s ears. Without lingering, she turned and left the crowd, her entire body radiating murderous intent. 

Nan Yi quickly chased after her. 

“Xiao Liu!” 

“Sister-in-law, don’t stop me. Even if it means my death, I have to save Third Uncle. The Qi people have already trampled us underfoot! If I don’t do something, living is nothing more than disgraceful survival!” 

“Do you really want to throw your life away? The city is full of soldiers watching our every move,” Nan Yi argued, bewildered by Xie Suian’s reckless determination. 

“Aren’t the Qi soldiers stationed throughout the city? Fine. Then I’ll steal their city defense map. Xie Queshan must have it. Once I know the positions of their guards, I’ll rescue Third Uncle and escape safely.” 

Her plan sounded simple, but every step would be nearly impossible to accomplish. Moreover, Xie Suian was entirely on her own. Until the traitor within the Bureau of Candlelight was identified, she couldn’t share her plan with anyone. 

This time, Xie Suian walked away with unwavering resolve. Nan Yi hesitated, wanting to stop her, but ultimately didn’t. 

When someone is determined to court death, no one can stop them. 

Nan Yi kept telling herself that she would never place herself in such danger. 

But as she glanced back at Xie Zhu’s figure, dangling from the city wall, the students and commoners kneeling in submission to the princess, and the pitiful imperial princess herself, confined to the golden palanquin and powerless to control her fate, a strange and tumultuous emotion surged in Nan Yi’s chest. 

The feeling left her both clear-headed and at a loss. She didn’t want to return to Wangxue Manor right away. Instead, she aimlessly followed the procession, letting herself be carried along by the crowd. 

She didn’t know how far she had walked, but the crowd gradually dispersed. 

“Damn scholar! Still trying to ambush us? Tired of living, are you?” 

The harsh sound of cursing caught her attention. Turning toward it, Nan Yi saw several Qi soldiers surrounding and beating a scholar. 

The scholar, dressed in a plain white robe, had already been knocked to the ground. Still, he tried to shield a few scattered scrolls with his body. Laughing cruelly, one of the soldiers stomped on the scholar’s hand, grinding it into the mud, making him appear even more disheveled and powerless. 

“Stupid Yuzhao bookworm!” the soldier mocked. “Your life is worthless, yet you still want to read, huh? How about we dig out your eyes so you’ll never read anything again?” 

The soldiers roared with laughter as one drew out a dagger. 

Nan Yi stood anxiously outside the alley, watching the scene unfold. She couldn’t bear it and felt an impulse to intervene, but her legs felt as though they were weighed down with lead, leaving her frozen in place, too afraid to step forward. 

As she hesitated, unsure of what to do, a rough hand suddenly grabbed her collar and yanked her forward. She stumbled, nearly losing her balance, and when she turned around, she found herself face-to-face with a burly Qi soldier who appeared to be the leader of the group. 

“What’s this? You want to watch? Come closer then, girl. Take a good look—your turn’s coming up soon!” 

The Qi soldier snatched the dagger from one of his men and moved to gouge out the scholar’s eyes. 

“Stop!” 

The words burst from Nan Yi’s mouth before she could think, loud and clear. 

Her shout startled the Qi soldiers, and they froze for a moment, turning to look at her. 

Nan Yi’s heart pounded in her chest. The instant she spoke, she regretted it. She could have used the distraction to slip away, but faced with such cruelty, she simply couldn’t stand by and do nothing. However, even though she had stopped them for now, what could she possibly do to save both the scholar and herself? 

Then, Xie Queshan’s words echoed in her mind: “Sometimes, reputation matters more than reality.” 

“Well, well, this little wench has some nerve!” the Qi soldier sneered, looking her up and down with an unabashedly lecherous gaze. “What makes you think you can meddle in our business?” 

Slap! 

A loud, resounding slap landed on the Qi leader’s face. 

Nan Yi struck first, projecting an air of authority as she straightened her back and spoke with conviction: 

“And who do you think you are, daring to bully the accountant of the Xie family?” 

She deliberately adopted Xie Queshan’s haughty demeanor, radiating confidence as though she had every right to rebuke them. 

The Qi leader was stunned by the slap, clutching his cheek as he stared at her, equal parts furious and bewildered. 

His lackeys were quicker to recover, stepping forward to shield their leader. “What nonsense! Anyone can claim to be from the Xie family these days, but do you really have the right to make that claim?” 

Nan Yi let out a cold laugh and pulled out the account book she had brought with her that day. “I am the young mistress of the Xie family. By the orders of my family’s patriarch, I brought our accountant to the city today to collect rent.” With a dramatic flourish, she opened the ledger. “Look carefully, you dogs. Here’s the Xie family seal.” 

The soldiers leaned in to examine the ledger, their suspicion giving way to hesitation when they saw the seal. 

Nan Yi then noticed a scar on the Qi leader’s forehead and suddenly recognized him—this was the same man who had harassed her a month ago at the Qu Ling River crossing. The scar had been her doing when she struck him with a rock to escape. 

Memories of that humiliation flooded back, stirring a deep fear within her. Her legs nearly gave out, but she discreetly pinched herself hard, forcing herself to stand taller. She was no longer the same helpless person from that day. 

At that moment, Nan Yi began to understand why scholars always carried themselves with unyielding posture—it was a declaration of courage. 

Sweeping her gaze over the Qi soldiers, she said, “Do I need to remind you who the Xie family’s patriarch is?” 

With that, she closed the ledger and ignored the soldiers, walking over to the scholar instead. 

She stopped in front of him and extended her hand. 

Still shaken, the scholar looked up at her. Many years later, he would recall this moment with absolute clarity—her hand reaching toward him, the light falling on her like shimmering silk, and a loose strand of her hair drifting down, forever entwining itself in his heart. 

The scholar hesitated, feeling that his hands were too filthy to touch hers. Instead, he pushed himself off the ground and carefully gathered his scattered books into his arms. Then, obediently, he moved to stand behind her. 

“Madam, I’ve caused a delay. My apologies,” he said softly. 

Nan Yi turned and glared at the Qi soldiers. “What are you waiting for? Get lost! If I can’t finish my business today, are you prepared to answer to Young Master Xie with your heads?” 

The soldiers, intimidated by her imposing demeanor, dared not question her further. After all, Xie Queshan’s name carried weight even among the Qi. They bowed repeatedly, muttering apologies as they retreated in haste. 

The moment they were out of sight, Nan Yi’s composure crumbled. Her legs gave out, and she leaned against the wall for support. Completely disregarding her image, she clutched her chest, breathing heavily. The cold air rushed into her lungs, gradually steadying her. 

After suffering so many humiliations under Xie Queshan, borrowing his reputation for once turned out to be surprisingly effective. The “great demon king” truly lived up to his name. 

Nan Yi didn’t notice that when she mentioned Xie Queshan’s name, the scholar seemed momentarily lost in thought. 

He quickly collected himself and bowed. “Thank you…” He hesitated briefly, unsure whether to address her as “Madam” or “Miss,” as her youthful appearance after dropping her act seemed at odds with her earlier claims. Yet, after a moment, he concluded, “Thank you, Madam.” 

Nan Yi scratched her head awkwardly. Sensitive as she was, she realized the reason for his hesitation. Dropping her intimidating facade, she indeed didn’t look much like a noble lady, let alone the Xie family’s young mistress. Still, it was too complicated to explain, so she simply went along with it. 

Waving her hand dismissively, she said, “It’s nothing, really. No need to be so formal. What’s your name?” 

“I am Song Yushu, the seventh son of my family. If Madam doesn’t mind, you may call me Song Qilang.” 

His speech was slow and overly polite—no wonder the rough Qi soldiers had mocked him as a “corrupt scholar.” 

“Song Qilang, it’s chaotic outside. If the Qi soldiers see us part ways now, they might get suspicious. I’ll escort you a little further. Where do you live?” 

Song Yushu hesitated, looking slightly flustered. “How could I trouble Madam further?” 

“…” Nan Yi was speechless. Talking to a scholar was exhausting, but she couldn’t be too blunt with him either. 

Noticing her slight frown, Song Yushu immediately relented. “Then I shall trouble Madam. I live in Jiangyue Alley.” 

At least he’s perceptive enough to know when to stop arguing, Nan Yi thought, smiling. “Lead the way, then.” 

Song Yushu walked ahead, but Nan Yi noticed that he kept his head down, clutching his books tightly to his chest, avoiding any eye contact or interaction with passersby. 

He was extremely courteous. Each time they reached a corner, he would gesture for her to go first. But every time he extended his hand, he deliberately tried to hide the dirt stains on his sleeves. 

Nan Yi suddenly understood—it was his attire. What he felt ashamed of was the state of his clothing. 

A strange ache tugged at her heart. Looking at his refined features and courteous demeanor, he must have once been the son of a wealthy and educated family. 

How many lives had been shattered in this chaotic world? 

“Are you from out of town?” Nan Yi asked, trying to make conversation and ease the heavy atmosphere. 

“I fled here from the Eastern Capital,” he replied humbly. 

So he was a young master from the capital. No wonder... 

Nan Yi sighed inwardly. Suddenly, Song Yushu’s steps came to a halt. Following his gaze, Nan Yi looked ahead. 

A caravan had stopped in front of a grand residence at the end of the alley. 

From one of the carriages, a burly man in the winter attire of the Qi people stepped out. It was none other than Wanyan Jun, the younger brother of the Grand Chancellor of Qi, Han Xianwang. Following him, Princess Lingfu emerged from her golden sedan chair. She was frail and thin; though dressed in luxurious garments, she still appeared weak and fragile. 

There were not many passersby in the area, but Nan Yi, with her sharp ears, caught an odd rustling sound. It sounded like... 

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she glanced around. She saw Princess Lingfu following Wanyan Jun into the residence, but the strange sound came from her feet—with every step the princess took, there was a metallic clinking. 

Nan Yi suddenly realized: Princess Lingfu’s feet were shackled with heavy iron chains. Each step she took made the chains collide and rattle.