Chapter 9

Jiang Luan truly turned her head to ponder for a moment.

“The Commander says so…” She withdrew her hand. “Take the dagger.”

The heavy dagger settled into her palm. Pei Xian examined the style and patterns for a moment, then lightly sliced his fingertip with the sharp blade. A thin line of blood appeared.

“High-grade tempered steel, forged by the military,” he said, pocketing the dagger. “Ding Jian gave this to the princess?”

“Don’t blame him unfairly. Ding Jian is quite poor; his military sword couldn’t have such exquisite jade inlays,” Jiang Luan raised her hand to tap the shimmering gold and jade scabbard. “It’s a little trinket the late emperor gifted at a New Year’s palace banquet.”

Pei Xian held the dagger up to the light, its dazzling gleam nearly blinding. He reversed it and slipped it into his bosom.

“Swords and knives are blind. Princess, don’t harm yourself again.”

As he put away the dagger, it was as if he also withdrew all warmth; his tone turned icy cold. “The capital is in turmoil. The princess must remain here. But since the Ancestral Court has decreed family laws for punishment, I hope the princess will abide by them.”

“Ding Jian’s duty is to guard the outer city. Tomorrow I will recall Wen Jing; from now on, Xue Duo and Wen Jing will jointly guard Linfeng Hall. I hope the princess sincerely cultivates and prays, to atone for the sin of accidentally harming the sage.”

Jiang Luan clicked her tongue and lazily curled up on the broad Luohan bed. “So, after all that talk, you just want to keep me locked up in Linfeng Hall?”

“I wish the princess would devote herself to cultivation and prayer within the hall. But if the princess insists on calling it imprisonment…” Pei Xian said coolly, “there’s nothing wrong with that either.”

With that, he rose and headed toward the door.

Jiang Luan laughed aloud behind him.

She lifted the cloak covering her body, slowly reached down, and pulled another dagger from the tall black leather boots hugging her calves—a thin blade in a snakeskin sheath, glinting in the lamp light.

“Commander Pei, you were careless,” Jiang Luan toyed casually with the dagger. “Who said I only have one dagger? I hold all of Linfeng Hall—do you think I can’t find a few weapons at hand?”

Pei Xian stopped by the diamond-patterned partition and turned around.

Today Jiang Luan wore a broad-sleeved, floor-length phoenix-patterned gown. The flowing sleeves were two feet wide. She rolled up one wide sleeve near her left elbow, revealing a cold gleaming crossbow bolt.

Pei Xian’s pupils contracted slightly.

“A dagger, and a hand crossbow,” Jiang Luan said with pleasure. “Not only can I harm myself, but I can hurt everyone in this hall, including you, Commander. But as a member of the royal family, how could I go against the great meritorious general who helped recover the capital and stabilize the realm?”

She leisurely cocked the crossbow, “Better point it at myself.”

“Ah~” Lady Yuan gasped, nearly falling backward. Several palace maids hurried to steady her.

Pei Xian stared at the hand crossbow a moment, then smiled faintly. “The princess speaks clearly and calmly; you don’t seem like someone grief-stricken and intent on self-harm.”

Jiang Luan agreed.

“You judge people well, Commander. I just recovered from a serious illness and know how precious life is. Unless forced to a dead end, I wouldn’t truly hurt anyone, least of all myself,” her rosy lips curved slightly, “Of course, this is an open threat.”

Pei Xian, accustomed to large affairs, remained composed, a faint smile playing on his lips. “What does the princess want?”

Jiang Luan clapped her hands delightedly. “Commander, please sit. Bring tea. Let’s talk.”

——————

Late into the night, Linfeng Hall still shone brightly. Jiang Luan, past her usual bedtime and at an age prone to drowsiness, felt herself growing sleepy and requested some invigorating incense.

Cool-scented smoke rose lazily from the incense burner.

Pei Xian still sat on the stool beside the Luohan bed, holding a steaming cup of brewed tea, his tone calm as he asked, “Opening the princess’s manor?”

Jiang Luan stifled a small yawn. “After fifteen years in the palace, I’ve had enough. I want to open a manor and go out.”

“Opening a manor is not difficult, just follow ancestral rules. But the timing is not right for the princess,” Pei Xian studied the fragile princess before him. “Usually, at fifteen, after the coming-of-age ceremony and engagement is settled, just before the princess’s departure, they grant the manor. The princess is not yet of age, nor has a proper fiancé been chosen,” he smiled faintly, “Why not wait two more years?”

“I can’t wait,” Jiang Luan leaned against the bedpost, fingers tangled in the strands of hair falling to her chest. “Commander, you’re a reasonable man, why pretend otherwise? Look at the current situation: I’ve seriously offended the sage. How can I still have a place in the palace? If I’m not allowed out to open a manor,” she lowered her voice, “I fear I won’t live to see my coming-of-age ceremony or engagement.”

Pei Xian sipped his tea. “The princess worries too much.”

“Better to think more, plan more, than to drift through life aimlessly, right?” Jiang Luan idly fiddled with the delicate hand crossbow hanging from her arm. “I’m not threatening the commander. I’m staking my life on my future.”

The young girl, still bearing traces of youthful innocence, spoke earnestly of “staking her life on the future,” which was oddly amusing. Pei Xian’s smile deepened.

His gaze fixed on the gleaming crossbow tip.

Jiang Luan noticed and dropped her sleeve to cover it.

“Commander, don’t scrutinize. Every military weapon has a serial number, but this hand crossbow isn’t military-issued—no number, and the craftsman’s mark is rubbed off. I can’t betray the good person who privately gave it to me.”

Pei Xian didn’t deny it. “Private issuance of weapons, accidentally harming a noble—if found in the military, it’s a capital offense. The princess must be cautious.”

Jiang Luan replied casually, “No need to say that to scare me. To be honest, this hand crossbow was given by my second brother when we toured the city walls. He kindly gave it to me for protection.”

Pei Xian smiled. “Better to pin the blame on Prince Jin.”

His eyes fell on the knuckles holding the crossbow. “If the princess has other weapons, bring them out. That’s the proper way to negotiate.”

“Really, that’s all,” Jiang Luan spread her hands. “I’m not a soldier who shouts about war every day. Why carry so many blades?”

Her pale fingers tapped the black wooden table, making her demand clear. “I want a princess’s manor, three hundred palace guards, and two thousand households in fief.”

“A princess’s manor,” Pei Xian repeated thoughtfully. “You offended the sage, don’t want to stay in the palace, and want to leave and open a manor. But have you considered? Once you leave, you become independent; your manor will be a glaring target—perhaps less safe than the palace.”

“That’s why I want three hundred palace guards,” Jiang Luan raised three fingers, adding, “Selected from the imperial guards, elite troops.”

Pei Xian closed his eyes briefly, then nodded. “The manor and guards are no problem. But two thousand households in fief is excessive; the court won’t approve that many. At most, eight hundred households.”

Jiang Luan was prepared to bargain, replying quickly, “Eight hundred households is fine, but I want them as an actual sealed fief.”

“Hm?” That was unexpected. “Only princes and meritorious nobles receive actual sealed fiefs. The princess rarely does.”

“I want an actual sealed fief,” Jiang Luan insisted firmly. “A fertile and prosperous land of eight hundred households.”

Pei Xian thought for a moment and asked, “After the princess’s coming-of-age, the Ancestral Court provides annual funding. No need to worry about expenses. Actual sealed fiefs require collecting taxes household by household—a troublesome affair. Why trouble yourself?”

“That’s my business.” Beneath the bright lamp, Jiang Luan lowered her gaze to the hand crossbow, her slender fingers touching the trigger again. “Just answer yes or no.”

Pei Xian leaned back, tapping his fingers lightly on the smooth wooden chair back. “I could readily agree, but the princess knows the matter of actual fiefs is serious and must be approved by the sage.”

Past midnight, Jiang Luan’s voice softened with drowsiness, “Whether the sage agrees is the sage’s business. You just agree first and do your best. I’ll disarm the crossbow now.”

“No difficulty.” Pei Xian placed the celadon tea bowl on the wooden table with a crisp sound.

He was drafted to court at sixteen, appointed military governor of Hedong in his early twenties, and four years of border defense had tempered his youthful recklessness into composed dignity.

“One princess’s manor in the capital, three hundred palace guards, eight hundred households in actual sealed fief. I’ll agree on my side and report to the sage tomorrow for final decision.”

He rose, casting a long shadow in the lamplight, looking down at the young noble lady.

“I’ve agreed. The princess should keep her promise and disarm the crossbow.”

Jiang Luan was skeptical. “Words are no proof. We need a written agreement.”

Pei Xian smiled silently and left for the courtyard.

Under the dim corridor light, she glimpsed him summon Xue Duo, giving some orders.

When the steady footsteps returned, a thick piece of mulberry bark paper, faintly scented with ink, was placed in Jiang Luan’s lap.

“Princess, here is the agreement you requested.”

Under flickering firelight, Jiang Luan read quickly, ten lines per glance.

She carefully examined the key promises and signatures—no problem.

Her fingertip tapped the flowing cursive signature in the lower left.

“Where’s the seal, Commander Pei?”

Pei Xian seemed surprised, softly “Hm?” then explained carelessly, “Official seals are heavy, kept in the military camp’s main tent, not carried around. Please forgive, princess.”

Jiang Luan bit her nails thoughtfully. No wonder he agreed so readily…

The big trap was being laid here.

She was too tired to play games with him. Keeping the mulberry paper open in her hand, she shook it impatiently, making a rustling sound.

“Who needs the official seal? Commander, you have a private seal for urgent military orders, right? That must always be with you. Take it out and stamp the paper.”

Pei Xian remained seated, closing his eyes to ponder briefly.

“My private seal is military confidential and cannot be shown lightly.”

He concluded, “A handwritten agreement already shows sincerity. If the princess wants more, I’m afraid it’s impossible.”

Jiang Luan insisted, “Not more. I’m afraid of less, that once you leave Linfeng Hall you’ll deny everything.”

“Life cannot always be safe everywhere.” Pei Xian’s calm tone betrayed no emotion. “A person who intends to break faith is useless even with a sealed agreement. The princess can only take a gamble and trust me.”

With those firm words, silence fell over the hall.

Since their meeting that night, despite frequent boundary crossings, this was the first time the courteous minister dropped his facade and referred to himself as “I.”

Jiang Luan clutched the mulberry paper, lowered her head to think, then slowly folded it square and tucked it into her sleeve.

“A fine saying: ‘Life cannot always seek safety.’ Since the commander says so, fine, I’ll take that gamble.”

She raised her arm toward Pei Xian, rolling back the two-foot-wide sleeve to reveal the full hand crossbow strapped at her elbow.

The crossbow was heavy, tightly bound with leather, pressing the delicate skin red.

No one knew when she had strapped it on—it wasn’t there during morning dressing. The palace maids nearby looked both shocked and alarmed.

Chun Zhe, standing closest, caught Pei Xian’s gaze; he gave a clear look urging action. Chun Zhe nervously said, “Mistress… I don’t know how to disassemble this crossbow…”

“I tied it myself during a nap at dusk. Tried several times but couldn’t secure it well; finally bit it tight with my teeth, making a dead knot.” Jiang Luan lifted her elbow to show him. Indeed, the leather strap bore a row of tiny teeth marks.

Pei Xian stepped closer for a better look, slightly frowning, then studied Jiang Luan again.

He had thought this delicate princess only pretended to have a crossbow on her forearm to intimidate, but the short crossbow bolt was truly armed.

Earlier, the crossbow tip had been near her throat. Had she accidentally triggered the trigger, even a great immortal couldn’t have saved her in time.

Risking life for the future indeed.

If a princess of a nation had died before him, his own martial achievements might not suffice to cover the loss.

“Princess has very neat teeth,” Pei Xian remarked expressionlessly. “And great courage.”

He stopped Lady Yuan from stepping forward to assist. “The crossbow bolt is armed. Disassembling requires care; those unfamiliar may accidentally trigger it.”

Jiang Luan naturally stretched out her arm, resting it under his watchful eyes. “They don’t know the crossbow; it seems only the commander can help.”

Xia Zhi hurried over with a pine straw mat, spreading it before Jiang Luan. Pei Xian lifted his robe, stepped back half a pace per audience protocol, and knelt on the mat. His eyes level with her slender white arm, his left hand guarding the trigger for safety, carefully removed the small iron bolt and tossed it aside. His nimble fingers then worked to untie the leather dead knot.

When the heavy crossbow was finally removed and placed on the table, it thudded loudly.

Qiu Shuang quickly stepped forward to take the crossbow away.

Jiang Luan rubbed her sore elbow. “Thanks for the help. Commander, please rise.”

As she reached to stand, Pei Xian remained half-kneeling, placed a hand on her wrist, pressing firmly through the thin silk sleeve, forcing her back onto the Luohan bed.

“Forgive me, Princess.”

His voice carried a trace of coldness. “One hand crossbow still frightens me to this day.”

“When I was disassembling it, I couldn’t help but think…”

“What if there’s more than one hidden on the princess?”

Pei Xian pressed firmly, politely yet sternly. “I dare to request a search of the princess’s person.”