In Wei Li’s presence, they trembled with fear, but behind his back, they all called him “Wei Bandit.” The name carried both terror and hatred.
“I… I just wanted to cut this as a keepsake.” The maid who had been cutting paper lowered her head, sobbing, her shoulders trembling.
Another maid snatched the red paper from her hands and threw it into the stove. “Are you crazy? He kills anyone who even looks like they’re smiling. If he sees this, do you want to die? And drag me down with you?”
After scolding her, the two whispered for a while longer, then extinguished the lamp and lay down.
Originally, the Commandery Governor and his wife had assumed that since Wei Li was so intimate with Zhao Xiheng, she must be a favored concubine. After all, what regional overlord didn’t have a few seductive women by his side?
As the saying goes, it’s easier to deal with the king of hell than his minions, and the power of whispers should never be underestimated. So, whether out of genuine goodwill or pretense, the Commandery Governor’s wife treated Zhao Xiheng with courtesy, even offering her own marten fur to lend her for warmth.
The news that Wei Li had intercepted the emperor’s wedding procession had not yet spread, so no one knew this was Princess Jingcheng, who was originally meant to marry into Goguryeo.
“What does Zhu Gong mean? That young lady isn’t his concubine?”
After the commotion in the middle of the night and the bitter cold, the Commandery Governor’s wife couldn’t sleep at all. She pulled her husband close to talk. Since Wei Li had said Zhao Xiheng was not his concubine, she now referred to her as “young lady.”
“Why bother with what he means or who that young lady is? Maybe he kidnapped some pampered daughter from a wealthy family. It’s not like he’s above burning, killing, and looting.
Just stay alert these next few days. If we can manage to send him away, everything will be fine. We both need to be careful not to give him any reason to target us.” The Commandery Governor rolled over, tucking his hands into his sleeves.
“I was really scared to death tonight. If that young lady was kidnapped, she’s truly pitiful.” The Commandery Governor’s wife tugged at her husband’s ear, making him turn and face her so they could talk more easily.
She whispered in complaint, “Right at the end of the year, he seized Pingzhou. What terrible luck—he won’t even let us have a proper New Year.”
The Commandery Governor closed his eyes. “Forget about celebrating New Year this year. As long as he’s alive, Pingzhou will be like a dead city. We won’t be able to celebrate New Year in the future either. Enough, enough—let’s not say any more. Better to avoid trouble from careless words.”
Their tones rose and fell as they spoke, a stark contrast to how they had behaved in front of Zhao Xiheng and Wei Li earlier.
The dialect of Pingzhou was bold and rough, naturally carrying a sense of familiarity and teasing. Wei Li, however, mostly spoke the official language. In his presence, they dared not speak the dialect for fear of disrespect or displeasing him. Even the maids assigned to him were those who spoke the official language well, with little Pingzhou accent.
Today, when speaking to the two of them, the Commandery Governor’s wife had struggled greatly to hold back.
Fortunately, the Pingzhou dialect was ninety-nine percent similar to the official language. If one deliberately restrained themselves, the Pingzhou flavor was barely noticeable.
After talking for a long time, the old couple finally began to feel sleepy. As dawn approached, one of them closed their eyes first and drifted into dreams.
Wei Li still couldn’t sleep.
Alone in the bedroom, with no one to worry about, he kicked off the blankets and tugged at his collar, exposing a large patch of skin, finally able to breathe properly.
He wondered how anyone could sleep in such a hot room.
By the faint moonlight filtering in, one could vaguely make out his silhouette—long limbs, smooth muscle lines, neither fierce nor lacking in strength, overall quite beautiful, the natural frame of a clothes hanger.
Only, on the exposed skin of his neck and chest, dark tattoos coiled and wound, most still hidden beneath his clothing, making it unclear what patterns were inked there.
He lay on his back, hands folded beneath his head, waiting for drowsiness to gradually set in.
Counting the time, the previous emperor had been dead for several years now, his bones likely rotted to dust.
The current emperor was Zhao Xiheng’s uncle, not her own father, and probably didn’t care much for her—otherwise, her personality wouldn’t have changed so drastically.
Thinking of this, Wei Li felt a surge of irritation toward Shunhe Di, wishing he could shove his head into a slop bucket.
It wasn’t that he didn’t wish Zhao Xiheng ill—he did—but what he wanted to see was Zhao Xiheng’s edge slowly worn away right under his nose, not that she’d become a limp, lifeless lump the moment he brought her to his side.
Recalling the trembling fear of the Commandery Governor and his wife, Wei Li let out a soft laugh.
These people were terrified of him, yet hated him so much they wished he’d drop dead on the spot.
Not just the Commandery Governor and his wife of Ji’an County—everyone in Pingzhou was the same.
The most amusing thing in the world was watching those who hated you most forced to grovel at your feet, seething with resentment and unwillingness.
Or dragging those who once stood high above, who brought you shame, down into the dirt.
Wei Li lay until dawn, then rose as usual to wash and dress, wearing the clothes prepared for him by the Commandery Governor.
A pure black round-collared, narrow-sleeved yisan, embroidered with gold thread patterns, dignified and luxurious, revealing the snow-white collar of the tieli inside. Against the backdrop of the snow-covered ground, it made his face appear even paler, his lips redder, and his hair darker, almost unnaturally so.
For an ordinary person, such attire in winter would be too thin, but for Wei Li, it felt just right.
Over his arm hung a waichang, black with gold floral patterns, sleeveless, fastened at the collar with a gold chain as thick as a little finger, jingling softly with his movements.
If all these things were piled onto someone else, they’d look like a tasteless, nouveau riche landlord. Fortunately, Wei Li had a well-proportioned frame and a strikingly handsome face, which only enhanced the effect.
On the contrary, if he wore plainer colors, it would seem mismatched and awkward—it was precisely these rich, vibrant, gold-and-jade hues that suited him.
Regardless, the Commandery Governor had stumbled upon it by chance: the most garish colors unexpectedly complemented Wei Li perfectly.
Zhao Xiheng had been arranged to sleep in the room next to his. He stood outside, watching the snow-covered ground, growing increasingly impatient as she failed to emerge. A shadow of gloom gathered between his brows, and he kicked the door of the neighboring room.
The maids inside trembled with fear—some came out to kneel, while others hurried into the inner chamber to rouse Zhao Xiheng.
No matter how handsome Wei Li was, given his violent temperament and universally reviled reputation, no woman would dare risk her life to get close to him. What good was wealth if you didn’t have the life to enjoy it?
The one who entered the inner chamber was a round-faced young maid, her hair tied in bobbing buns. She hesitated before the figure buried under the blankets, unsure how to proceed—afraid of disturbing Zhao Xiheng’s sleep and offending her, but even more afraid of angering Wei Li outside.
Gritting her teeth, she called softly, “Young mistress, it’s time to rise. Zhu Gong is waiting outside.”
She called several times and nudged her gently, but Zhao Xiheng showed no response. Summoning her courage, she pulled back the covers and saw Zhao Xiheng’s face flushed with an unnatural redness, the blush spreading all the way down to the base of her neck.
“Ah! Miss! It’s terrible, terrible! Go fetch the doctor quickly!” A woman’s sharp cry rang out. Wei Li raised an eyebrow and strode inside.
The round-faced maid, panicked and disoriented, ran straight toward him. He had no habit of making way for others, so he simply pushed her aside and entered.
Several maids hurriedly went to summon the physician from the estate.
Zhao Xiheng had been traveling continuously for days, frightened and chilled the previous night, and was unaccustomed to the local climate, which caused her to develop a high fever overnight.
That was what the physician said after taking her pulse.
Wei Li sat nearby, wiping his blade, frightening the physician so much that his legs trembled and he nearly fainted.
He glanced at Zhao Xiheng, whose face was flushed red.
Not only was her personality soft, but her body was also quite delicate.
Just yesterday, Wei Li had thought that Zhao Xiheng’s fragility might all be an act. He absolutely refused to believe that someone so haughty and spirited in their youth could grow up to become weak and restrained.
But it turned out she had truly changed her nature, shedding tears at the slightest provocation, and now she had fallen ill from fright.
“But it’s nothing serious. She just needs to take medicine for a couple of days and rest well in bed. The young lady has a strong constitution.” The physician, skilled at reading expressions, hurriedly added upon seeing Wei Li’s displeased expression.
Wei Li clicked his tongue, sheathing his blade with a clatter. “Just make sure she doesn’t die.”
“I will do my best to cure the young lady.”
“I don’t like the word ‘best.'” Wei Li tapped the physician’s head with the hilt of his blade.
The physician quickly corrected himself, “Certainly, I will definitely cure the young lady.”
Wei Li certainly wasn’t particularly concerned about Zhao Xiheng. He simply felt that if she died so easily, all his years of resentment and bitterness would seem like a joke.
Although Zhao Xiheng’s current personality was as pliable as dough, easily molded however one wished, making her somewhat dull, it was better than nothing.
He cracked a melon seed and popped the kernel into his mouth, letting out a sudden laugh. The physician was terrified, silently praying that Wei Li would die soon and bring peace back to Pingzhou.
Zhao Xiheng lay on the heated kang bed, a maid wiping her forehead. Her lips moved abruptly, and she softly uttered a few words, “Wei Li…”
The maid thought to herself, this young lady is truly bold, daring to like Zhu Gong, even calling his name in her illness.
But then she reconsidered—if even someone like Zhu Gong could have a young lady who liked him, why couldn’t her own brother find a wife? It was truly unfair.
Before she could finish her lament, Zhao Xiheng uttered a few more words, “Just you wait, I’ll kill your whole family…”
“What did she say?” Wei Li heard Zhao Xiheng’s faint murmurs and raised his chin to ask the maid wiping her body.
The maid swallowed hard, a drop of cold sweat trickling down her forehead. She felt life was difficult, even more difficult than her brother’s struggle to find a wife.
To tell or not to tell—that was the question.
In her heart, she didn’t want such a beautiful young lady to meet her end at Wei Li’s hands. But if she didn’t speak, what if he killed her in a fit of anger?
Wei Li’s patience, however, gave her no time to think.