Another night passed, and Li Liang’s faint breathing finally ceased altogether.
By now, it could no longer be concealed. Li Liang’s movements had always been closely watched, and the camp commanders quickly gathered, hearing Second Miss Chen’s cries of grief.
“My father knew my elder brother was murdered, and, worried for my brother‑in‑law, he sent me to check on him. But now—” Chen Danzhu shrieked before the assembled officers, “my brother‑in‑law has still been murdered! If not for him protecting me, I too would have been killed. Which of you did this? You are bringing calamity upon the nation!”
She wept as she spoke, then lifted a bowl of medicine and drank it down. The pungent taste made it clear to those present that she was not raving.
Yet none of them would accept her accusation. Though Inspector Zhang had already departed, many of his men remained in the army. One of them sneered, “Does Second Miss have proof? Without evidence, do not speak recklessly. At such a time, disturbing the army’s morale is what truly brings calamity upon the nation.”
Chen Danzhu retorted, “I will return and report to the Prince. We will present the evidence.” She summoned Li Liang’s two personal attendants, Chang Shan and Chang Lin. “You will personally escort your master’s body. Ensure nothing goes wrong. It will be examined upon return.”
Chang Shan and Chang Lin were still dazed by the sudden turn of events. Knowing the truth of Li Liang’s affairs, their first thought was to avoid returning to the Chen household—they had other places in mind. But then someone scolded them: were they fools?
“Li Liang’s plan was to carry the tally back to Wu’s capital. Now he cannot return alive, but his body can still be sent back. The tally is here. Can the plan not still proceed? He is gone, but you can carry it out. Would that not be a great merit, securing your future lives and fortunes?”
Yes—what their master had failed to accomplish, they could complete. That would be a great achievement, securing their future. Their fear vanished, replaced with vigor, and they accepted the order with spirit.
In addition to Li Liang’s attendants, ample manpower was provided. This mission promised glory. They answered loudly, “Second Miss, rest assured!”
To Chen Danzhu’s surprise, though she did not see Chen Qiang and the others again, Chen Li returned from the left‑wing army carrying the tally.
Chen Li was surprised as well. “After Chen Qiang left, Commander Zhou was arrested. I only saw him when I carried the tally to him. He looked miserable, tortured. No matter what I asked, he would not answer—only told me to leave quickly.”
Clearly, something had happened. Yet Chen Li himself had not been seized, and had even managed to bring the tally safely back to Second Miss.
Chen Danzhu was puzzled. Who had ordered Commander Zhou’s arrest? Commander Zhou was Li Liang’s man. Could it have been the Iron‑faced General? But why would the General seize him?
Unable to make sense of it, she decided not to dwell on it and simply said: “It must be that with Li Liang dead, they’ve turned on each other. Chen Qiang stayed behind as a spy. Let’s seize the chance and hurry back.”
Though it all felt confusing, Chen Li still obeyed her orders. After all, Second Miss was just a young woman—killing Li Liang was already no small feat. The rest should be left to the elders. Surely the old master was already on his way.
As for Chen Danzhu’s departure and her threat to report everything, the commanders in the army paid little attention. If reporting grievances were useful, then Chen Danyang would not have died in vain. Now Li Liang was dead as well, and Chen Liehu’s influence in the army was completely broken. What mattered now was how to redistribute power and seize more troops.
Chen Danzhu looked at the commanders, their flickering eyes betraying their schemes, and felt sorrow. Wu’s soldiers were still locked in internal power struggles, while the imperial generals already sat calmly under their very noses. Wu’s army had grown slack for too long. The imperial court was no longer the helpless court it once was.
She lowered her gaze. “Let’s go.” Then she lifted her eyes toward the distance, her expression complicated. It had been ten days since she left home. By now, her father must have discovered the truth. If he realized she had stolen the tally, how would he treat her?
Spring was fleeting—ten days passed in the blink of an eye. The tender green in the courtyard had already deepened. Though Chen Liehu was a military man, he had a study, arranged in scholarly elegance—perhaps too elegant. Bamboo, plantain, and crabapple crowded the window; bookshelves lined the walls; the desk was cluttered with scrolls, as if it had not been tidied for a long time.
Chen Danyan, dressed in a thin robe, searched inside and out until sweat beaded on her brow. Where was the tally hidden?
Xiao Die had said last time it was concealed beneath the brush‑rack on the desk. But once her father discovered it, he might have hidden it elsewhere. She had already searched the study thoroughly. Could it be in the bedroom?
“Xiao Die,” Chen Danyan whispered, wiping her forehead with her sleeve, “go see where Father is now.”
No maid’s voice answered from outside. Instead, Chen Liehu’s aged voice called: “Ah Yan, what are you looking for?”
Startled, Chen Danyan swayed, nearly collapsing. Chen Liehu stepped in at once, reaching out to steady her. “Careful. Did you take the medicine the doctor prescribed?”
Her pale face flushed faintly. She pressed her hand to her belly, joy shining in her eyes. She had wondered why she had fainted for two days. Her father, with the physician beside him, had told her she was with child—already three months. After her miscarriage years ago, her health had been poor, her cycles irregular, so she had not realized.
Chen Danyan was so overjoyed she nearly fainted again. Though Li Liang never spoke of it, she knew he longed for a child. Now it had come true. She must go and give thanks. But once her joy subsided, she remembered her task. She reached into her clothes to check—and found the tally gone. She had been unconscious for two days, examined by the physician, given medicine, and attended by maids. Her clothes must have been changed. Her father must have discovered the tally.
Chen Danyan looked somewhat guilty at her father standing by the bed. He was clearly immersed in the joy of her pregnancy and did not mention the tally, only saying with deep meaning: “If you truly care for Li Liang, then stay home and nurture your body well.”
The physician had warned that her health was fragile; the slightest misstep could cost her the child. And if she lost this one, she might never bear another in her lifetime.
Frightened, Chen Danyan had not dared leave her bed for several days. Yet remembering Li Liang’s trust, she could not let it go. She and Xiao Die had come again to search for the tally—only to be discovered by her father. She glanced to the side and saw the hem of Xiao Die’s skirt at the doorway, clearly knocked unconscious by her father.
Chen Liehu studied his daughter’s pale face, frowning. “Ah Yan, what exactly are you trying to do?”
Chen Danyan decided to tell the truth. In her current condition, she could not personally deliver the tally to Li Liang. She could only persuade her father to do it.
“Father,” she clutched his sleeve and knelt, “please send the tally to Ah Liang. He said he has evidence to accuse Inspector Zhang. Let him return. If those villains are not removed, the next to die will be Ah Liang.”
Generals stationed outside the capital could not return without an imperial edict. But with Chen Liehu’s tally, passage would be unhindered.
Chen Liehu sighed. He knew his daughter still brooded over Chen Danyang’s death. But Li Liang’s words were impossible, and not what Li Liang should have said. It disappointed him deeply.
“Danyang’s death—I have my own plan. He will not have died in vain,” he said gravely. “As for Li Liang, rest assured. Inspector Zhang has already returned to the royal court. No one in the camp can harm him now.”
Chen Danyan refused to rise, tears streaming. “I know I was wrong to steal the tally last time. But Father, for the sake of this child, I truly fear for Ah Liang.”
Last time? Chen Liehu was startled. What did she mean? He lifted her up, then reached to open the brush‑rack on the desk. Empty—the tally was gone.
“Father,” Chen Danyan said in confusion, “I stole it a few days ago. Didn’t you already take it back?” Her expression turned to shock. It seemed her father knew nothing of it.
Chen Liehu was equally stunned. “I did not. When did you take it?”
Chen Danyan pressed her hand to her belly. “Then who took the tally?” She recounted the entire sequence of events.
The tally had been stolen—this was a grave matter. Chen Liehu tapped his daughter with his finger, but now he could neither beat nor scold her. He could only raise his voice and order an investigation into everyone’s comings and goings. Yet after thorough checking, not a soul had left—even Li Liang’s household remained in place—except for Second Miss Chen. That night, she had gone out in the rain and returned in the rain, taking ten guards with her.
Chen Liehu knew his younger daughter had come, but assumed it was just a fit of temper. With guards escorting her, and since Tao Mountain was Chen family property, he had not worried.
“Master, Master!” The steward stumbled in, face pale. “Second Miss is not at Tao Temple. They say that since the rainy night she returned, she has never come back. Everyone thought she was at home—”
Chen Liehu turned to Chen Danyan and barked, “What did you say to your sister?”
Chen Danyan was stunned. “I said nothing! She bathed when she saw me. I dried her hair. She went to bed and quickly fell asleep. I didn’t even know she had left. I—” She pressed her hand to her belly again.
So Danzhu had taken the tally? Where had she gone? Had she gone to meet Li Liang? How did she know? A thousand questions whirled in Chen Danyan’s mind.
Chen Liehu slammed the table in fury. “Even if you didn’t tell her, could Li Liang not have told her?”
From childhood, Chen Danzhu had treated her elder sister as a mother. After Chen Danyan married, Li Liang had become close to her as well. If he could persuade Chen Danyan, he could certainly persuade Chen Danzhu.
Chen Liehu was so enraged he nearly spat blood. He shouted for horses to be prepared. Just then, someone entered with a soldier.
“Master,” the man saluted, then raised his head with a strange expression. “Miss Danzhu, carrying the tally, has led troops under General Li’s banner toward the capital. I have come to report.”
Chen Liehu’s face changed. He did not immediately order his wayward daughter seized, but asked, “How many troops?”
“Not many,” the man replied. “From afar, it looked like just over three hundred. Because it was Second Miss, and she carried your tally, no one questioned her along the way. Only when she reached the city gates, since it was serious, did I come to report.”
Chen Liehu rose to his feet. “Close the gates! Any who approach—kill without mercy!” He seized his great blade and strode out.
Chen Danyan’s face turned deathly pale. “Father—”