Hongyi was slightly taken aback. The remark clearly implied that even the maids doing menial work in Xilin Chuan's residence were beautiful—considered a compliment, to which she nodded slightly in thanks.
Yudan took a few more steps and stopped in front of her. He examined her carefully, a faint smile forming. He raised his hand to brush past the hair at her temple, reaching back to casually remove a hairpin.
It was a simple silver hairpin, plain and somewhat rough in craftsmanship. Yudan let out a soft laugh as he looked at it and said leisurely, "Where does the young lady reside?"
…Why is he asking that?
Hongyi frowned slightly. These foreigners really were "bold." Even in the twenty-first century, few would ask for a woman's address right after meeting her.
Her face turned cold and she didn't reply. He chuckled again, "Don't misunderstand. Among the goods I brought to Daxia this time is a fine silver hairpin. Instead of waiting for a buyer, I'd rather gift it to you for your adornment."
She had heard many such attempts to get close in her previous life. Those with influence or power often used valuable gifts to win the favor of young girls eager for a better future.
Hongyi instinctively stepped back half a pace, just like she would have in the modern world, showing no intention of accepting. "I don't accept rewards for no merit."
Yudan paused briefly, then smiled again, "You look familiar. I just feel an inexplicable sense of connection—nothing more."
The phrase "a sense of connection" made it sound even more like a pickup line. Hongyi felt even more uncomfortable staying any longer. Her expression turned pale, and she gave a quick bow. "Excuse me…"
Without waiting for Yudan to say anything more, she turned and left. Her lips pressed tightly together—she was somewhat afraid of ending the conversation so abruptly. After all, this wasn't the modern world. She was a lowly servant, and Yudan was an honored guest. The difference in status made her fear offending him.
Fortunately, Yudan said nothing further. He merely took a few steps after her and, before she got too far, reached out and inserted the pin back into her hair. Since she wouldn't accept his gift, he couldn't very well walk off with her belongings.
. . .
Autumn wind rustled through the trees, leaves falling everywhere. The study's courtyard, rich with foliage, was thick with fallen leaves after the evening breeze. When the servant came to report, his footsteps crunched over them.
Upon hearing the report, Xilin Chuan's initial caution gave way to uncontrollable anger.
So early…
"The young lady Hongyi was seen speaking with the foreign merchant in the corridor," the servant reported truthfully. "I didn't dare follow too closely, but after she left, I went to check and found this."
Xilin Chuan glanced at the hairpin the servant presented. It was indeed a style Hongyi liked.
Suppressing his fury, he closed his eyes and clenched the hairpin tightly in his hand. "Understood."
The servant bowed and added, "Yudan also sent word, asking about the archery contest…"
"Tomorrow," Xilin Chuan replied quickly. Then, as if unable to listen to another word, he waved his hand. "Just be ready. I'll go to the archery grounds first thing."
"Yes, sir." The servant bowed and tactfully retreated.
Xilin Chuan was a mess inside. The long-suppressed fury surged like wildfire, mocking him like a slap in the face.
He had only been cautious due to the tense situation between the two nations. So he'd secretly sent someone to follow Yudan—he hadn't expected it to involve Hongyi.
He had thought that even if certain things were cruel, they would happen much later. Never had he imagined that signs had appeared this early, that she had already made personal contact with the wealthy Heqi merchant mere days after entering the household.
In his past life… how blind had he been?
He had been a figure of envy in Changyang—high military achievements, a marquis before reaching adulthood.
He died just three years past the age of majority. While deathly ill, he'd learned that someone close had betrayed him—and the country. As court erupted in chaos, he lay there, filled with regret and shame.
He'd thought too simply.
The hidden danger had taken root long before he was made general or marquis. In those years of glory, swords and banners, the threat had always been by his side—unnoticed. Even in death, he thought her betrayal came much later.
His long-held belief crumbled. Breathing unsteadily, even the glint of the hairpin stung his heart. Clenching his fist, he slammed the desk—but it didn't stop the flood of memories.
In that past life… Hongyi was the only woman he had ever loved. His reputation for being "unrestrained and romantic" partly stemmed from her. Everyone in the palace and city knew that this noble marquis, who owned over ten thousand households in fealty, had no wife, only a favored concubine-to-be.
And yet it was her—tempted by the Heqi again and again—who became their spy.
That final battle was perilous, but victorious. Upon returning triumphantly…
Many died horribly.
Struck with plague, no healer could save them. He felt his body weaken daily, life ebbing away until his final breath.
These soldiers, who had fought so bravely, didn't die from enemy blades but from tainted water—where dead livestock had been dumped in advance by their enemies, who knew exactly where their camp would be.
He died the same way.
. . .
Tossing and turning through the night, dawn eventually arrived.
After washing and a simple breakfast, he chose a bow and headed for the archery grounds.
The grounds were in the far north of the residence, quite a walk from his quarters. The brisk morning breeze calmed his mood a little.
Many servants were walking the same way. Seeing him approach, they quickly made way and paid their respects. Because of his easygoing nature, the household rules were laxer than most noble estates in Changyang. When lively events like contests occurred, he didn't mind the servants watching—they brought some cheer.
Yudan had arrived first. Upon seeing Xilin Chuan, he folded his hands in a respectful Han-style greeting. "Lord Attendant."
Hearing the title, Xilin Chuan's eyes narrowed slightly. "So you didn't come just for personal reasons."
He took the longbow, aimed an arrow at the target, and added, "If it's official business, perhaps we should talk elsewhere."
Yudan chuckled. "Sometimes, it's hard to separate business from personal matters."
"Speak plainly," Xilin Chuan loosed the arrow—it hit the bullseye. He readied the next.
He was curious what Yudan would say. In his past life, he'd heard of a wealthy Heqi merchant who went to great lengths to see him. But with war looming, all his passion had been focused on national defense—he declined the meeting.
This time, knowing events were repeating, he allowed it out of curiosity. Reborn once more, he wanted to live differently.
"For example…" Yudan paused, then said, "War is a matter of state, yes—but it threatens my business. Does that not make it personal as well?"
Xilin Chuan said nothing.
"Such matters spare no one. Why not prevent them?" Yudan dismissed his attendants, stepped closer, and continued, "Your uncle is the Grand General. I've heard the Emperor intends to send you to war with him. Think—how many generals in past wars were punished or even executed for minor faults? Why risk it?"
Thwack — Xilin Chuan fired another arrow. The target rang with impact. He glanced at Yudan, mockery in his eyes, his tone cold, "You have your sources, but you've found the wrong man. To me, if peace can be bought with my life, it's a fair price."
"Whose life isn't precious?" Yudan coaxed, "Even for you—say you gain fame in one war, then another and another… Eventually, you'll die in battle. What then, of your household?"
Xilin Chuan's gaze wavered.
"Why fight prosperity?" Yudan smiled, watching him closely. "Your uncle earned his place with blood. But you—you are the Empress's nephew. Why throw your life away?"
Xilin Chuan said nothing, strung another arrow.
"Most of your maids are as lovely as blossoms," Yudan joked. Then more seriously, "But my lord… they may worship you now. If you die, how long will they remember you?"
Xilin Chuan's heart clenched.
It struck like a blow, reigniting all the bitterness from last night.
His breath hitched. Instinctively, his eyes scanned the courtyard—soon landing on a familiar figure. Just a few dozen steps away, seated by a pillar in the corridor. Far enough he couldn't see her expression, but close enough to recognize her at once.
"If you die, how long will they remember you?"
That line pierced his chest.
Before his spirit departed, he had drifted over Changyang and seen the grief. The army mourned too.
Then he saw her leave the residence with little money, riding out of the city.
Soon, a party met her—clearly Heqi men by their clothing. He followed her to the border but went no further. He saw the Khan's decree: she was to be taken as a consort.
That was enough.
He hadn't won lasting peace for the nation. Brave soldiers died in vain. And the one who helped destroy it all—lived on in luxury.
Thanks to him.
"…Lord Attendant?" Yudan finally noticed his odd expression.
Xilin Chuan didn't respond.
His chest was tight. The long-repressed rage and regret surged at once, like a flood crashing through his self-control.
His mind went blank. Without thinking, he turned—nocked the arrow—fired.
So fast that Yudan hadn't even reacted before Hongyi collapsed.
Chaos erupted in the corridor.
No one knew why it happened. Confused and terrified, the servants froze—no one dared speak, let alone shout for a doctor.
"My lord, you—" Yudan turned in shock. Xilin Chuan stood still, face dark and cold. His eyelids twitched faintly. Forcing away his instinctive guilt, his voice was calm:
"She was just a menial."
The implication: Her life or death meant nothing.