Chapter 162: Fury
He asked coldly, "Why would your princess agree to bear a child with Jiang Yu?"
Zhao Bai glanced at him and replied indifferently, "The state of Chen is controlled by the Empress Dowager and the Jiang faction. The princess is eager to become their regent princess to return and take charge of the situation. Naturally, the Jiang faction would demand benefits in return."
Her words were half-truths, but the reasoning was sufficiently plausible.
Since the state of Chen had acknowledged Wen Yu as the princess and recognized their King Chen as the consort of Great Liang, the future heir to both nations must be Wen Yu's child.
If the Jiang Family wished to preserve their wealth and status, the conventional method of placing their daughters by King Chen's side to bear his offspring would no longer suffice. It would be more effective to have Wen Yu directly bear a child of Jiang lineage, thus securing their position permanently.
Though such an arrangement would be considered shocking if made public.
Zhao Bai was not afraid that Xiao Li would use this knowledge to attack Wen Yu within the Wei camp.
After all, these were merely her unsubstantiated claims without concrete evidence.
What surprised her was that after hearing this, Xiao Li asked with a chilling expression, "What about King Chen?"
Initially, Zhao Bai didn't quite grasp the meaning behind Xiao Li's question. Upon careful consideration, she realized he was asking why King Chen hadn't intervened when the Jiang Family dared to make such an audacious demand.
Zhao Bai replied, "King Chen has long been ill and uninvolved in state affairs. The state of Chen is currently ruled from behind the curtain by Empress Dowager Jiang."
This was her subtle way of indicating that King Chen now held no real power in Chen and had long been marginalized by the Empress Dowager and the Jiang Family.
Personally revealing that King Chen had hidden afflictions that rendered him impotent—something that would damage Wen Yu's dignity—was something Zhao Bai would naturally never do.
In her view, letting him know that Wen Yu might bear a child with someone else wasn't particularly significant.
After all, Liang Chengzhu's own sister, the Grand Princess of Xiangcheng, had kept numerous male companions in her time, and it was rumored that many martial generals in the court had also been her intimate guests.
Had Changlian Wang successfully ascended the throne back then, Wen Yu, as his only daughter, would have been perfectly entitled to keep male companions if she wished.
If Xiao Li had remained compliant, Zhao Bai's hostility toward him wouldn't have been so intense. After all, she had wrongly accused him before and nearly caused his death, for which she originally felt some guilt.
But now that he had joined the Wei camp, he would inevitably become an enemy to their Liang Camp. His current detention of Wen Yu, with unclear motives, made her fear he might harm Wen Yu, and that lingering guilt was overwhelmed by anger.
The way he had looked at Wen Yu back in Pingzhou was definitely not the gaze a subordinate should have toward a superior.
He was merely restraining himself, holding back.
Zhao Bai could sense the dangerous undertone in his eyes when he looked at Wen Yu.
It was clear that he wanted to press down their dazzling Liang princess like a precious pearl, slowly crushing her bones and skin between his claws, devouring her completely.
That was transgression!
Now more than ever, the dangerous intensity in his eyes had only grown stronger, making Zhao Bai increasingly fearful of what he might do to Wen Yu.
For some reason, however, after hearing her explanation, the previously subtle anger in the man across from her began to emanate from his entire being like the lingering embers of gunpowder smoke. The smile that curled at his lips was icy, almost mocking, but carried more of an indescribable fury: "Your Liang Camp has helped your princess marry quite a husband."
After saying this, he completely ignored the long sword Zhao Bai held at his throat, turned, and prepared to leave.Zhao Bai felt as if she had been slapped hard across the face, her heart torn between fury and the self-reproach and heartache of witnessing Wen Yu’s gradual descent into this predicament. Yet her gaze quickly hardened again. Pressing her sword down with greater force, she snapped coldly, “The princess will reclaim everything she desires with her own hands. She doesn’t need some damned husband shielding her. The reason Southern Chen was chosen by her was for its troops, not for King Chen!”
This time, the blade sank deeper than before. A distinct bead of blood welled at Xiao Li’s neck before trickling down to stain his collar.
Zhao Bai stared at his back and said icily, “You’d better remain the princess’s sworn enemy forever. Otherwise, just for imprisoning her, you’ll never measure up to Jiang Yu! You and Pei Song are irreconcilable because he killed your mother. He slaughtered the princess’s entire clan—what do you think it feels like for her to be trapped by you?”
After saying this, she sheathed her sword and trudged back through the snow without another glance.
Xiao Li’s sharp features were shrouded in the shadows beneath the trees, his expression unreadable, but his entire aura was frigid. “Because she’s the princess of Great Liang, because she carries the blood of the Wen clan, you all take it for granted that she should bear everything and walk the hardest path, don’t you? After all, she’s clever, resilient, never complains of hardship or exhaustion, and is endlessly capable—every stratagem of hers has revived your Liang Camp from the brink of destruction.”
Zhao Bai halted, ready to retort in anger, but he continued, “When I first met her, she wasn’t the princess of Great Liang. She wasn’t all-knowing. She was a living, breathing person. It was only to live up to being your princess that she became what she is now. How dare you, sheltered by her flawless plans, assume she’s naturally invulnerable and needs no protection?”
Stung into silence by his words, Zhao Bai could only watch as Xiao Li strode away through the snow. In the end, she slammed her fist against a tree in frustration. Snow showered down from the branches, and she shut her eyes in acute discomfort.
—
Returning to camp, Xiao Li found sleep impossible. He dismissed the night watch to rest and took over the duty himself.
Seated by the campfire, he stared into the flames, lost in thought.
Truthfully, from the moment he captured Wen Yu, he had never decided what to do with her.
Did he hate her for doubting him after all they had endured together, and for ultimately choosing to kill him?
Yes, he did.
Yet the instant he recognized her from afar and shot an arrow to save her from Pei Shiwu, his first thought had been: How can I help her conceal her identity from Wei Ang?
He didn’t know if Wei Ang would recognize her, or if she had a plan to handle the situation. But if he appeared before her, she would know immediately that none of her disguises could fool him.
So he had Wei Ang interrogate her himself—both to avoid suspicion and better conceal her identity later, and to observe how she would respond, waiting for the right moment to assist her.
Torn between hatred and indecision, he had initially avoided seeing her.
As expected, when he finally confronted her out of rage that she, pregnant, would risk her life to retrieve Jiang Yu’s head, it was he who lost his composure.
He had meant to demand why she would endanger herself and her child, but seeing the mix of joy and sorrow in her eyes as she looked at him, the words that escaped his lips were an accusation about that fateful arrow.He wanted to ask her—when she traveled ten miles in bridal splendor to marry into Southern Chen, did she ever feel a trace of guilt knowing he had died from that poison arrow, his bones left bare in the wilderness?
In the end, the last shred of his dignity prevented him from voicing the question.
She had once so despised his feelings for her, viewing them as a burden. Knowing he was dead, she likely only saw it as eliminating a potential spy and conveniently ridding herself of a nuisance.
He had repeatedly brought up this arrow of vengeance, wanting to convince himself to let go, to stop clinging to any illusions about her, and also to seek a definitive answer from her—so he could hate her with greater conviction and justification.
Adoring this noble daughter of Liang was like sinking into a swamp. He had witnessed her ruthlessness and cruelty; it was time to climb out.
Yet she was so sorrowful, so remorseful.
For a moment, he couldn’t discern whether the disgust she had once spoken aloud was genuine, or if this present remorse was real.
She was too clever, too adept at reading people’s hearts—he truly couldn’t tell.
Even if she had truly given the order to kill him, he still couldn’t bear to harm her.
Xiao Li felt he might be ill, afflicted with a sickness that made him lose all reason and principles whenever he drew near that Liang princess.
He knew full well it was an abyss below, but as long as she stood there, he would still leap without hesitation.
Pain and numbness cycled endlessly, tormenting him until he felt as hollowed out as an empty shell.
Reason tugged at him, urging him not to see her again, yet his body would often sit through entire nights on the hilltop, sleeplessly gazing at the military tent where she was held captive.
It seemed his illness had grown worse.
He no longer cared whether she had truly intended to kill him.
After all, she was in his hands.
After all, she owed him, and he wanted to hide her away in a place only he knew.
That way, whether she loathed or hated him, she would never be free of him.
Yet in moments of clarity, his pride still forbade him from acting so despicably.
His mother had spent over a decade teaching him to be an upright, good man—he couldn’t allow himself to become so degraded.
So, in the end, he decided to release Wen Yu.
If she went far away, where he could no longer see her, his sickness would surely heal.
But then she was injured right under his nose.
If letting her go only made her less safe than if he kept her confined, why shouldn’t he continue to hold her?
She was even carrying a child—if she lost it, she would be devastated.
Only to find out, in the end, that the child was also a lie.
She brought the wood carving he had once made for her and told him she liked him.
Xiao Li nearly laughed. To secure her freedom, she would truly say anything.
How could she claim to like him?
She could deceive him in other matters, but not this one.
He had nothing left to be cheated out of—this shattered heart of his, oozing pus and blood, never healing, couldn’t withstand another trampling.
Wei Qishan hadn’t captured her, Pei Song’s men were uncertain of her whereabouts, the Liang Camp denied her presence at the Northern Border, and the Southern Border’s war situation could remain stable at least until spring.
He would let her go—just not now.
Keeping her at the mountain convent was to let her recover from her injuries, and perhaps also to see what other deceptions she might attempt.
If her guard hadn’t come to him tonight, he wouldn’t have known that King Chen, the man she had been so determined to marry, was such a coward.
And she had agreed to raise a child with Jiang Yu?No wonder, no wonder she risked her life to retrieve Jiang Yu's head. No wonder she became so distressed every time he mentioned Jiang Yu.
How could she still claim to like him?
Or had such deception long become part of her tactics?
A thick branch meant for the fire snapped in two in Xiao Li's hands.
When the firewood was thrown into the flames, it sent countless sparks flying, scattered by the biting cold wind.
Xiao Li's jaw tightened in the firelight, his dark pupils reflecting the dancing flames as if molten lava churned deep within them.
He was still furious.
Furious at Wen Yu's deception, furious that despite all her scheming she had married such a man, and furious that everyone in their Liang Camp took all this for granted.
She had married an incompetent husband, needing to compromise with maternal relatives and jointly raise an heir just to obtain power. Why did her guards and ministers think all this was something she ought to "fight for"?
Simply because she had always shielded them behind her back?
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