Chapter Thirty-Two: Refugees in the Capital

So, for the past few days, Li Zheng had been staying in the courtyard that Lin Miaomiao bought. The courtyard was spacious, with many empty rooms, and this was the first day Li Zheng had settled in without a hitch.

That evening, Lin Miaomiao steamed some rice and cooked a tomato and egg stir-fry, braised potato slices with meat, boiled meat slices, red-braised pork, and shredded pork in Beijing sauce.

As Li Zheng tasted Lin Miaomiao’s cooking, he suddenly wondered why his nephew had brought this young girl along. Wasn’t her culinary skill a little too good?

“These are just some homestyle dishes—just make do with them,” Lin Miaomiao said politely to Li Zheng, and Li Zheng found himself looking at her with new eyes.

“Little girl, has your family promised you to anyone yet?” Li Zheng’s question left Lin Miaomiao bewildered, and she shot him a disdainful glance. “Can’t you speak properly?”

Li Yanhé pressed his lips together in a smile, then began eating. Since everyone else had started, Li Zheng felt a bit awkward and tried again with Lin Miaomiao, “Are you engaged?”

Without even glancing up, Lin Miaomiao replied, “I’m Brother Li’s child bride!”

Li Zheng suddenly wondered how the sharp, business-minded girl he’d spoken to earlier could now be so easily fooled.

Just as Li Zheng was about to say something more, his foot was firmly stepped on by Li Yanhé. Lin Miaomiao gave Li Zheng a rather peculiar look.

“So mysterious, so strange—I dare not look too deeply into it!” Lin Miaomiao recited a line she’d heard in a TV drama, directing it at Li Zheng.

Li Zheng was speechless.

He truly thought the girl’s cooking surpassed even the renowned Empress Yuan Chuxia’s from years past.

Secretly, Li Zheng grumbled—why did everyone else have such good fortune? The wives they found all cooked so well. Yet here he was, at his age, still without a woman who could cook.

As he watched Lin Miaomiao serve dishes to Li Yanhé, Li Zheng couldn’t help but shake his head, feeling for a moment a flash of annoyance toward his aloof nephew.

Suddenly, Lin Miaomiao remembered something, set down her bowl, and said to Li Yanhé, “Big Brother Li, eat quickly. Didn’t you say you’d take me out for a walk later?”

Li Yanhé, hearing this, tapped Lin Miaomiao on the nose and said, “You only think about having fun. Eat a bit more—once you’re full, then we can go out.”

Without a second thought, Lin Miaomiao scraped her leftovers into Li Yanhé’s bowl, pouting, “I’m full—finish mine, will you?”

Li Yanhé calmly ate the rest of her food, and Li Zheng suddenly began coughing violently—whether from surprise or from eating too quickly, it was hard to say.

Lin Miaomiao cast Li Zheng a disdainful look, then silently handed him a cup of water. “Can’t you slow down? You’re not the one going out to play.”

Li Zheng’s face darkened a little, perhaps from the earlier embarrassment. He sighed and said to Lin Miaomiao, “I’m not a child—I’m not in a hurry. If I want to go out, I can just go myself.”

Hearing this, Lin Miaomiao immediately pouted and, feeling a bit aggrieved, ignored him.

Li Zheng, intending to give his leftovers to Li Yanhé, placed his bowl before him, but Li Yanhé simply set the bowl in front of An Qi.

“I’m done. Miaomiao said we can’t waste food. Whoever eats last does the dishes.”

Li Zheng quietly finished his remaining rice, then placed his bowl in front of An Qi. “Remember to wash the dishes.”

An Qi was at a loss for words.

When An Qi carried the bowls to the kitchen, Cuiliu and Lanzhi immediately took them from his hands and started washing up together. Dan had been diligently teaching the two “wolf children” these past days.

Now, the two children could already write. Lin Miaomiao was deeply gratified by their progress—they were both clever, picking up new things swiftly.

That night, Lin Miaomiao and Li Yanhé went out together. He lifted her onto the horse, and at that moment, she thought Li Yanhé looked truly, indescribably handsome.

Back in the modern world, Lin Miaomiao had always loved scenes of horseback riding in movies—there was something undeniably dashing about them. Li Yanhé’s effortless movements instantly set her girlish heart aflutter.

Noticing Lin Miaomiao’s flushed cheeks and uncharacteristic silence, Li Yanhé placed a hand on her forehead, thinking she might have a fever.

As they rode together, Lin Miaomiao felt as though she were out for a drive with her boyfriend—except, of course, their “vehicle” was a horse. For a city girl like her, such experiences were rare; she’d once gone on a trip with friends and couldn’t even distinguish between a donkey and a horse.

A tour guide had explained the difference between a donkey and a mule, and she’d been so embarrassed that she posted a photo to her social media. She still remembered the flood of laughter in the comments.

Now, truly seated on horseback, Lin Miaomiao felt herself elevated—regal, even.

Li Yanhé brought her up to a nearby mountain. Gazing out over the rolling hills, Lin Miaomiao was seized by a sense of soaring ambition.

She glanced at Li Yanhé, who smiled and said, “Would you like to know my true identity? Or, if you wish to learn about your past, I can…”

Lin Miaomiao shook her head. “There’s really nothing to say. Everyone in this world has their secrets. I’m not particularly curious.”

“Honestly, Li Lao’er, if you ever want to tell me, you won’t need to ask—I trust you’ll come right out and say it.”

Looking at Lin Miaomiao, wise beyond her years, Li Yanhé was overcome by an inexplicable warmth.

Lin Miaomiao realized she’d never seen a sky so vast. Back in the city, whenever she looked up, all she saw were towering skyscrapers.

She’d never understood the yearning some people had for rural life—she’d thought they were out of their minds.

But now, as she truly experienced the beauty of nature, she realized what it meant to gaze at a boundless sky and feel all her cares slip away.

Sitting on the grass with Li Yanhé, looking at the distant horizon, she counted the days and realized winter was nearly upon them. She thought back—it had already been several months since she’d arrived in this world.

Resting her head on Li Yanhé’s shoulder, she chatted idly with him until she grew drowsy.

Held in Li Yanhé’s arms, Lin Miaomiao felt enveloped in warmth, as if she were hugging a great furnace.

Watching the slumbering girl, Li Yanhé felt his heart melt. In truth, he was not the simple, kind soul he appeared to be.

At fourteen, Li Yanhé had already learned the ways of the world. At that age, the palace had sent someone to instruct him; the next day, he had the palace maid flogged to death.

He’d found her repulsive, especially when she’d tried to approach him. From that moment on, he understood.

He hadn’t let her take advantage of him, and after having her executed, the Emperor Yongchang even commended him.

Li Yanhé had no desire to see Lin Miaomiao dragged into his world, caught in impossible dilemmas—yet he had no choice.

Gazing out over the endless mountains, he sighed heavily.

Then, cradling the sleeping Lin Miaomiao, he swung onto the horse and rode swiftly home. When Lin Miaomiao awoke, she had no idea when she’d fallen asleep or how she’d returned.

News of Li Yanhé’s return to Dankou spread quickly. The Third Prince, Li Taian, did not see him at the Da’ankou military camp.

The Crown Prince, Li Hanwen, squinted as he read the memorial Li Yanhé had sent to Emperor Yongchang.

The Fourth Prince, Li Deren, stood quietly in the Eastern Palace, listening as the Crown Prince said, “Li Yanhé has already returned to Da’ankou. Deal with those who can’t keep their mouths shut.”

Li Deren narrowed his eyes and replied, “Yes, Your Highness.”

That night, in a secluded forest outside the palace, a group of people were executed in secret. Their bodies were taken to a mass grave and burned to ashes.

Upon receiving the news, the Third Prince, Li Taian, sneered and handed the document to Xiao Gexu, who read it in silence, then sighed heavily.

“The Empress is truly ruthless. All our people have been eliminated. Should we…”

Li Taian closed his eyes and thought for a long moment before opening them to look at Xiao Gexu. “Why should we be afraid?”

After finishing, Li Taian gave a sickly smile and turned his head toward Xiao Gexu. “The barefoot aren’t afraid of those in shoes. If something happens in the capital now, His Highness the Crown Prince won’t be able to escape responsibility.”

Xiao Gexu lowered his eyes, seeming to understand. “Understood—I’ll see to it at once.”

Li Taian picked up the letter paper on the table and slowly set it alight. The flames brightened, illuminating his handsome features.

He hadn’t arranged the paper properly, so Xiao Gexu silently ground ink for him while he wrote a letter.

A few days later, during the Crown Prince’s regency, a flood of refugees poured into the capital. They sat outside the palace gates, kneeling and begging the Emperor for mercy.

The Seventh Prince, Li Yankang, and the Ninth Prince, Li Yonghe, simply watched these beaten refugees in silence. They didn’t laugh openly.

At the Seventh Prince’s residence, the revelry continued—singing and dancing, everyone enjoying themselves.

The Crown Prince, Li Hanwen, and the Fourth Prince, Li Deren, were overwhelmed. These refugees were nothing but trouble—why were there refugees in the capital at all?