Chapter Nineteen: The True Character of a General

When Lingran saw that it was Peng Lun, her mind went blank with a ringing sound, and she inwardly groaned in despair. Who could have predicted that, upon seeing it was her he’d run into, Peng Lun would only frown his thick brows, stride up to her, seize her by the arm, and scold, “Always so reckless!” Then, with a swift motion, he swept her up and dashed toward the blaze where firelight raged.

Lingran felt herself suddenly lifted into the air, startled beyond words. Only after a long moment did she realize this was the legendary art of lightness skill. But she was bewildered—Peng Lun had caught her trying to escape, yet he wasn’t truly angry. Wasn’t that strange?

Carrying her, Peng Lun vaulted over a series of courtyards, finally setting her down beneath the bright glare of a ring of torches. Lingran, still shaken, glanced around and saw that they had already passed beyond the walls of Xunyun Villa. All around stood soldiers in iron helmets, weapons drawn and pointed toward a man and a woman at the center.

When she made out who those two were, her mouth formed a perfect O, unable to close for a long time. It was Captain Song, now dressed head to toe in black, and Mo Suxian. Captain Song was clutching Mo Suxian tightly by the shoulder; she cowered in his embrace, her face deathly white, trembling.

Captain Song’s expression was grim, braced for a desperate struggle, but when he saw Peng Lun, the icy resolve on his face began to melt. Still holding Mo Suxian, he knelt and bowed his head. “General, I have served loyally under you for many years—please, have mercy and spare us!”

What was happening? In barely two months, that exasperating Mo Suxian had managed to win over the baby-faced Captain Song? And they had even reached the point of eloping!

Suddenly, she recalled how every time she went to the stables, she would find Mo Suxian pestering Captain Song to teach her to ride. Sometimes, they even shared a horse. Back then, she thought nothing of it, assuming Mo Suxian was simply awkward with others and latched onto Captain Song for company. Only now did she understand—when someone shouted earlier that the young lady had escaped, it wasn’t her they meant, but this Miss Mo!

Peng Lun stared coldly at Captain Song. “Do you think that’s possible?”

Captain Song’s face was ashen, his voice mournful. “If you wish to take my life, I dare not resist. But Miss Mo was only led astray by me into fleeing. It has nothing to do with her. Please, sir, spare her.”

“This is not your place to plead! You know full well this crime is punishable by death. Have you thought of your elderly mother at home? How can you answer to her?” There was a note of pain and sorrow in Peng Lun’s voice.

Lingran sensed things were going badly. From his words, there would be no forgiveness for Captain Song, and who knew what fate awaited Mo Suxian. Though she had once quarreled with Mo Suxian, she still wished that all lovers might find happiness together. She also admired their courage—knowing the risks, and yet daring to defy fate for love. Without thinking, she rushed to Peng Lun’s side and pleaded, “General, besides your soldiers, no one knows what’s happened! Just bring Miss Mo back, punish Captain Song a bit, and let it go?”

Peng Lun shot her a glance. “This is betrayal—how could it be forgiven? If others follow his example, how will I keep my men in line?”

Lingran was about to argue further when Peng Lun suddenly reached out, pulling her behind him. Before she could react, there was a sharp sound, and Mo Suxian gave a piercing scream.

Lingran looked down to see several drops of bright red blood splattered on her shoes. She froze on the spot, and Mo Suxian’s scream was abruptly cut off.

“Give him a proper burial, send three hundred taels of silver to his family, and tell his mother he died in battle,” Peng Lun ordered another officer calmly. With a clatter, a sword was thrown to the ground.

Lingran went cold all over. If before she had only sensed the presence of death, now, in this feudal world where human life was worth less than grass, she was seized by a deep, abiding fear for her own future.

“As for the woman—tie her up and sell her straight to Pinkang Li,” Peng Lun said, emotionless. Perhaps for a hardened general accustomed to blood and death, the loss of a subordinate stirred no feeling—was this the nature of a commander?

Lingran had at first thought Mo Suxian would be killed as well, but now realized she was merely unconscious, or perhaps her acupoints had been sealed.

“What is Pinkang Li?” she asked mechanically.

Peng Lun turned, his broad chest blocking her view of everything ahead. His voice was frigid. “Don’t ask questions you shouldn’t.”

Lingran even forgot to nod. She had never seen anyone killed before, especially not someone she knew. It was too much to bear, her mind a complete blank.

Peng Lun picked her up again, soaring back to Xunyun Villa.

He set her down as if floating through clouds, but she was still lost in a haze, unable to believe what had just happened.

Peng Lun spoke softly, “You didn’t scream or cause a scene—that’s good. Remember this: never harbor rebellious thoughts. Otherwise, even if I wish to protect you, the Inspector would never let you go! And though he’s wary of Chancellor Chu, it would be a simple matter for him to have you killed right under Chu’s nose.”

Lingran could not speak.

Peng Lun gently brushed her hair. “Go back now. Have a good sleep and forget all about this.”

She nodded, trembling in fright.

She thought she heard Peng Lun sigh softly in her ear, and then his presence vanished.

Lingran stood dazed for a long time. The midsummer night was stifling, but she felt icy cold. Only after who knew how long did she finally come to her senses. Turning around, she realized she was already standing in the small courtyard she usually lived in.

Suddenly, a light flickered in the pitch-black main house, and the wooden door creaked open as someone stepped outside.

Lingran numbly walked toward the house.

It was Biqing. She started in fright when she saw Lingran, quickly covering her mouth to stifle a cry. Pulling Lingran aside, she whispered, “Where have you been all this time? Mo Suxian hasn’t come back tonight either—it’s so strange!”

Lingran stared at her.

Biqing went on, “I think I ate something bad. My stomach hurts—I didn’t dare use the chamber pot inside, so I’m going to the latrine. Are you coming?”

Lingran shook her head.

Biqing grimaced, clutching her stomach. “Oh, I can’t stand it—I’m going.” She hurried away.

Lingran groped her way into the house and slowly climbed into bed, not even bothering to undress. She lay there with her eyes open until dawn.

In this society, mistakes were truly not tolerated—a single misstep meant death. Beneath its peaceful surface lurked mortal dangers. If Captain Song and Mo Suxian hadn’t been exposed tonight, it might have been her who died.

She touched her face—it was ice-cold, yet there were no tears. Only when the fourth watch sounded and people began to stir and whisper did she silently admonish herself: From now on—never act rashly again.

“Madam Xu said today Chief Inspector Liu of the Western Depot will personally watch our performance, and tomorrow we’ll go to the Chancellor’s mansion!” Shen Zhu’s voice brimmed with excitement.

“Then we’ll surely have new clothes and jewelry to wear today!” Xu Shanquan added expectantly.

In the darkness, sighs and murmurs rose one after another, but no one asked where Mo Suxian had gone or why she hadn’t come back that night.