Chapter Fifteen: One Does Not Blame the Dead

In the past, whenever he received rewards, Li Yanhe had always been calm and indifferent. But now, holding a hundred coins in his hand, he suddenly felt a warm glow in his heart.

Watching the miserly Lin Miao count each copper coin, refusing to give him even one extra, Li Yanhe found Lin Miao’s behavior utterly endearing.

With a bit of money in her hands, Lin Miao thought about renting a shop in the evening, perhaps to sell food or snacks. After thinking it through, she dismissed the idea—their stay here was too brief, and whatever they did must end swiftly.

Li Yanhe had already spent seven days at Yang Fugui’s home. That night, after Lin Miao had fallen asleep, Li Yanhe stepped out of the room and spotted the messenger pigeon.

“Displeased,” the note attached read. Li Yanhe narrowed his eyes, recalling the memorial he had previously sent to Emperor Yongchang.

He couldn't help but laugh at himself; as expected, his father was growing dissatisfied, perhaps even suspicious of him. So what if he was the emperor’s son?

There was no need for further words—what crime could Jiangnan have? Yet the world belongs to one family, and who would allow another to sleep soundly beside their bed?

Li Yanhe picked up a fire striker and burned the note, then retrieved a letter written by Noble Consort Yuan Chuxia.

He glanced over the war reports from the front lines. It was the beginning of autumn; the barbarians had not yet invaded on a large scale, but once autumn passed and winter arrived, the cold would freeze their cattle and sheep to death. Then, desperate, they would invade, solving their food shortages, and gaining women and slaves.

Because every winter played out this way, the barbarians had grown fat and bold, always believing their forces could challenge the Great Yong dynasty.

Li Yanhe sighed. His uncle arrived just in time to suppress the offensive at Da’an Pass, but the situation at other border passes was far from ideal.

Autumn had just begun; winter would follow soon. These restless barbarians would not be content. Li Yanhe raised his eyes and said to the shadowy figure behind him, “Enemies ahead, predators behind. It seems the second wave is about to arrive.”

The shadow nodded. Li Yanhe clenched his fist—his internal injuries hadn’t fully healed, but with slow recuperation, he would recover.

Yuan Sihan sat in his tent, quietly reading the latest war reports. The results were grim; the barbarians had chosen other routes to break through.

The situation in Juxiang City and Yeyang Prefecture was troubling, and the outlook was bleak.

Yuan Sihan drummed his fingers anxiously on the table. He was powerless to intervene, for Juxiang and Yeyang, though border cities, were not under his jurisdiction.

Until Prince Shengxuan returned, the orders for all three border cities could not be coordinated. Da’an Pass was under the fiercest attack, so Emperor Yongchang sent him to prevent it from falling first.

Before he left, Emperor Yongchang, not trusting him fully, had Noble Consort send a family letter as a precaution, making the emperor’s intentions clear.

People often say, “Do not employ those you distrust; do not distrust those you employ.” Yet Emperor Yongchang did not wish him to wield absolute power, so he sent the Third Prince, Li Tai’an, as military supervisor to divide his authority.

The Third Prince, Li Tai’an, watched the flickering candlelight and couldn’t help but laugh. News from the palace had arrived: “Father seems somewhat dissatisfied with my kind second brother.”

“This realm belongs to His Majesty. If he is displeased with someone, everyone will know. Now that Prince Shengxuan is injured, if he does nothing, His Majesty will be even more displeased,” Xiao Gexu remarked carelessly, half-heartedly brushing Li Tai’an’s hair.

Li Tai’an grew more cheerful, laughing softly. Xiao Gexu watched him, happy like a child, and said, “Our people have sent a second wave. Hopefully, this time, they’ll succeed in ambushing Prince Shengxuan en route.”

Li Tai’an waved his hand. “Cousin, don’t be impatient. Let the Crown Prince’s men take the lead.”

He spoke with a slight smile. Xiao Gexu said nothing, poured himself a cup of tea, and took his leave.

“Your Highness, it’s cold in the north. Drink more water; your lips are already chapped,” Xiao Gexu said with concern.

Li Tai’an threw himself into Xiao Gexu’s arms, pouting. Xiao Gexu shook his head, laughing, and gently applied a thick layer of balm to his lips.

Li Tai’an, still pouting like a child, said, “Cousin, did you know? One deputy general in the garrison ordered his daughter to climb into my bed. It annoyed me, so I had her dragged away, had her hands and feet broken, and finally beaten to death.”

Xiao Gexu was stunned, then admonished him, “Your Highness, how could you? You’re here to win hearts at the border. If you act like this, His Majesty will soon learn of it, and if the historians report it, you’ll be scolded.”

Li Tai’an lay across Xiao Gexu’s lap, listening, then pouted again, childishly complaining, “Cousin, you don’t even care if I was sullied by that woman, yet you scold me.”

Xiao Gexu gently stroked his hair. “Our Tai’an is so well-behaved—how could you randomly kill a subject’s daughter?”

Li Tai’an’s eyes sparkled as he looked up, smiling sweetly. “Cousin, you guessed it! Did someone tell you beforehand, or did you figure it out yourself?”

“I guessed,” Xiao Gexu replied, picking up the brush to arrange his hair.

Li Tai’an was a little unhappy that Xiao Gexu had seen through him. Then Xiao Gexu said, “So tomorrow, Your Highness will hear that shameless woman hanged herself after trying to seduce you.”

Li Tai’an suddenly smiled, his eyes bright as if he’d stumbled upon something amusing. “Cousin, you’re really clever! You always know what I’m thinking.”

Xiao Gexu affectionately tapped Li Tai’an’s forehead. “Don’t be naughty—behave yourself here.”

At that moment, Li Tai’an’s residence welcomed a middle-aged man—the father of the woman they had just discussed.

Deputy General Zhao, having spent years at the border, knew his daughter was forthright and outspoken, even confessing to those she liked.

Deputy General Zhao never imagined his daughter would offend the Third Prince, Li Tai’an, and nearly harm him.

This was no trivial matter. In the palace, such a woman would have been executed. But Miss Zhao was the daughter of a deputy general—a subject’s child.

Yet what did that matter? The world belonged to the Li family. As a lowly deputy general, he could only bow and apologize to Li Tai’an.

He knew his daughter’s temper well, which is why he hurried over in the middle of the night.

Li Tai’an had his attendants stop him at the gate, notified the household, and sent Miss Zhao home.

Though Li Tai’an kept the matter quiet, word had already spread. The military camp was neither large nor small; even minor incidents were quickly known.

Deputy General Zhao hoped his daughter would truly be forgiven. Otherwise, Li Tai’an could find any excuse to have her executed.

So he came hurriedly, eager to beg Li Tai’an’s pardon.

When Li Tai’an heard the report from outside, he immediately donned a gentle, cultured expression, threw on a cloak, hastily gathered his hair, and said, “Let him in.”

Xiao Gexu stood quietly to the side. When Deputy General Zhao saw Li Tai’an in his nightclothes, he felt awkward, but being a rough man, he ignored protocol and had not sent a formal request.

Now, seeing Li Tai’an, he regretted his haste, but for his daughter’s sake, he knelt to beg forgiveness.

Li Tai’an smiled graciously, not letting Deputy General Zhao kneel, but instead said, “Your daughter is too bold—she startled me today. Still, I hope you’ll discipline her properly.”

Deputy General Zhao nodded, relieved that Li Tai’an bore no grudge against him or his daughter.

But he was unaware of the surprise awaiting him: Li Tai’an would not hold a grudge against a dead woman.

Li Tai’an maintained a smiling façade, yet beneath it, a hint of madness lurked.

He lay across his cousin Xiao Gexu’s lap, who absentmindedly brushed his black hair.

Sixteen years old this year, Li Tai’an was once praised by Emperor Yongchang as a literary prodigy, appointed to the Ministry of War at fourteen.

He was favored, but not as much as Crown Prince Li Hanwen—his two elder brothers were too outstanding, making him seem insignificant by comparison.