Chapter 426

After another night of intense battle, since they couldn't expose themselves, Li Shishi had to clean up the battlefield herself, ensuring no trace remained—tiring, yet blissful.

In her sleep, she felt someone caressing her cheek; Li Shishi blinked open her eyes drowsily, and upon seeing the small, pale, plump face before her, she jolted upright: "Your Majesty."

"No need for formalities," Zhao Ji said gently, stopping her. "Lie back down. I merely came to see you."

"Thank Your Majesty for your kindness."

Seeing her half-asleep state, Zhao Ji shook his head with a smile: "Today I heard a fine poem circulating among the people—I'll recite it for you, to lift your spirits."

"If Your Majesty says it's good, then the poem must be exquisite," she replied with her usual flattery, not thinking much of it—until Zhao Ji recited it, and her eyes widened in shock.

Noticing her astonishment, Zhao Ji recited the final line, then shook his head: "It seems even Shishi finds this poem extraordinary. I wonder who wrote it—such brilliance, yet not a whisper of its origin, spreading through word of mouth alone, sweeping through Bianjing in just one night. And yet the author lingers where lanterns grow dim—truly a remarkable woman."

Li Shishi smiled like a blooming flower: "Your Majesty speaks truly." Only she knew—the poem was written for her.

Zhao Ji spoke a little longer, but seeing her no longer alert as when she heard the poem, struggling to stay awake, he sighed: "Enough. Rest well. I'm leaving." With that, he turned and departed without hesitation.

Watching Zhao Ji leave, Li Shishi rolled over, lay on the bed, and stared at the ceiling, lost in thought.

She longed to leave with her beloved—but she could not. She was kept by Zhao Ji; her beloved worked for Zhao Ji. She could never speak openly to another. Yet since her heart was bound to him, she no longer wished to remain with Zhao Ji. Her body had been tainted—but she wanted her future to be pure. But Zhao Ji was no ordinary man—he was the supreme sovereign of Great Song. What could a weak woman like her do?

Though her beloved had told her that circumstances forced compromise, she still wished to give him her purest self. But alas—she was but a weak woman, powerless against fate…

She thought of her beloved—surely he had already left Bianjing far behind. Though he promised to visit often, she knew the distance was great, and such visits were never easy. Yet she hoped his "often" meant tomorrow, the day after, every day.

She wished to ponder further—but she was too exhausted. Without realizing it, she sank into deep sleep…

He couldn't return empty-handed—he had bought many goods, plus several carts of imperial gifts from Zhao Ji, forming a slow-moving caravan. Wang Yan grew impatient with the slow pace and distance, so he took two servants and rode hard, galloping for three days until he finally reached Wang Family Village.

"Master."

"Great Lord."

The return of the head of the household was, of course, a major event. Everyone in the estate, whether they had business or not, came out to greet him.

"Enough, enough," Wang Yan laughed, dispersing them. "I've only been gone half a month, accomplished nothing grand—why such a fuss? Go back to your duties." As he walked into the estate, he grinned at Wu Song, who had grown noticeably rounder: "Er Lang, you must be getting along well with your wife—you've put on a whole layer of fat. Haven't had time to train your martial arts lately?"

Wu Song had no trouble finding a bride—he'd already had candidates lined up. Two months after Wu Dalang married, Wu Song's own marriage was settled. She was the daughter of a scholar—literate, well-mannered, far superior to ordinary peasant girls. So Wu Song had already enjoyed months of having a woman who knew warmth and care. Now it was clear: he didn't dislike women—he simply hadn't had the chance.

In the original tale, Wu Dalang was already arranging a match for his younger brother. Had Pan Jinlian not caused trouble, Wu Song would have married by now. Later, Pan Jinlian's betrayal left Wu Song with trauma; after the bloodbath at the Mandarin Duck Pavilion, when the maid betrayed him, his affection for women vanished entirely. After becoming a wandering monk and joining Liang Shan, every man there was either a killer who murdered his wife to advance, a bandit who seized another's wife, or obsessed only with brotherhood. In such an environment, how could Liang Shan's culture ever be healthy?

Wu Song drank from giant bowls, ate huge chunks of meat, and divided silver by the scale—how could he ever think of women?

Hearing the Great Lord's words, Wu Song blushed slightly: "I've indeed grown lazy. Great Lord, rest assured—even like this, it doesn't affect my fighting. Once my wife settles, I'll resume training."

Wang Yan paused, about to speak, when the old steward Wang Fusheng interjected: "Master, Er Lang's wife is pregnant. We found out the day after you left for Bianjing."

Looking at Wu Song's dumb, beaming grin, the Great Lord clapped him on the shoulder: "Good, good. If it's a boy, I can finally trust you with outside duties. How's your brother? Any progress?"

"None yet," Wu Song shook his head. "We had our estate physician examine him—he says my brother was born with a defect; fathering a child is nearly impossible. My brother and sister-in-law are also terrified the child, if born, might be like my brother—never grow properly."

Genetics—this concern was entirely valid. Wang Yan smiled: "To conceive at all is already difficult. Why worry about what comes after? Let nature take its course. If the child turns out like your brother, don't fret—boy or girl, the Wang family will take full responsibility."

"Thank you, Great Lord."

Wang Yan waved his hand and turned to the old steward, asking about recent affairs. Most were business matters—some sycophants had sent gifts for the Lantern Festival, and a few more guards had come seeking employment, hoping to eat at the estate. Otherwise, Wang Rongchun, who managed Suzhou affairs, had sent a letter updating progress. That was all.

After all, his trip to Bianjing had lasted only half a month. Year-end affairs were already settled. He did business with Zhao Ji—how many troubles could there be? His urgency to return wasn't about business—it was simply to escape Bianjing's chaos. Just as Tong Guan had invited him, in truth, during his stay, more than just Tong Guan had tried to court him. Money moves hearts—how many could truly resist?

Wang Fusheng chattered on, then looked at the Great Lord sipping tea: "There's one more thing, Master, you should know."

"Hmm."

"Near Jizhou's Liang Shan, there's a place called Du Long Gang. At its foot lives a landowner surnamed Hu—he's wealthy, with hundreds of strong tenant farmers and guards. A true local magnate. Hu Taigong has a young daughter—she's a few years younger than you—and they say she's exceedingly beautiful…"

The old steward emphasized "exceedingly beautiful," speaking with deep implication.

Wang Yan glanced at Wu Song, who was trying not to laugh, then shook his head: "What's your point, Fu Shu?"

"Master, I'm not meddling—our business has dealings with the Hu family. A few days ago, I met Hu Cheng, Hu Taigong's son. He said his younger sister is young and beautiful, and since you have only one concubine and no wife, he wishes to offer her to you as a bride." Wang Fusheng pleaded earnestly: "I sent men to investigate—the Hu girl is indeed beautiful. Not as stunning as Madam, but three-tenths shy—far from ordinary. She's also skilled in martial arts, can wield sword and spear, and few can match her. But Hu Cheng hid something: the Hu girl is betrothed to Zhu Biao, the third son of Zhu Chaofeng of Zhu Family Village. They've noticed our rising power and seek to attach themselves."

"Still, I believe this is harmless. Had you not built our family's fortune in recent years, the Hu family's connection would've been forced. Now, with our vast estate, even if they're far behind, they're still worthy to become the mistress of the Wang household."

"When you went to court, Master, I thought your donation of hundreds of thousands of taels would earn you an imperial marriage. But clearly, merchants are still seen as lowly—hence I tell you now."

Wang Yan nodded, acknowledging it. Many sought to attach themselves to him—this was nothing unusual.

But honestly, he hadn't considered a chief wife. Because if he took one, she'd become Empress. He didn't care much—but women did. That created conflict, poisoned the inner quarters, and invited trouble.

Of course, if Zhao Ji bestowed a marriage, he'd accept—it was a favor to the Emperor, and he'd become a prince consort. But only if Zhao Ji offered. No one else. Zhao Ji hadn't offered—not because he looked down on merchants. He'd received hundreds of thousands of strings in tribute, had palaces and gardens built for him—how could he despise him? He simply had no daughter of marriageable age. His eldest daughter, Princess Jiafu Zhao Yupan, was only thirteen—clearly too young. Otherwise, Zhao Ji would've been the first to beg Wang Da Guanren to be his son-in-law.

If Zhao Ji gave Wang Yan a daughter of a minister or royal clan, it would be an open invitation to form factions. Two ingredients for trouble: people and money. Zhao Ji was no fool—he wouldn't do such a thing.

He himself avoided close ties with officials. Why would he seek a match of equal status? For him, whether he had a chief wife didn't matter—as long as he had a son to inherit. Even having a son was only for necessity. He didn't care much—he just needed a woman…

"Fu Shu, whether I have a chief wife doesn't matter. I already have a son to carry on the family line—and there will be more. As for this Hu girl—if she's beautiful and shares my interests…" Wang Yan smiled at the old steward, "Go tell the Hu family she can be my concubine."

"Yes, Master." Wang Fusheng nodded without hesitation. It was his duty to serve the family. Now that the Great Lord said a chief wife didn't matter, what more could he say? Arranging a concubine, bearing more sons—that was the true path.

Wang Yan gave no further instructions. The old steward was no fool—he handled things well. The Hu family would agree. The Zhu family wouldn't object. It was only a matter of time.

Seeing the Great Lord take another concubine—a landowner's daughter—Wu Song bowed and offered congratulations, then said: "Great Lord, I have something to report."

"Speak."

"A few days ago, when I reported to the prefecture, the Military Inspector Dong Ping invited me to drink. He spoke highly of you, and wishes to serve under you."

Dong Ping, nicknamed "The Twin-Spear General," ranked fifteenth on Liang Shan, one of the Five Tiger Generals of the cavalry, also known as "Dong the Rammer." His strength was formidable. But the man was vile: when Song Jiang and Lu Junyi vied for leadership, Dong Ping was captured, surrendered, opened the city gates to let Liang Shan's troops in to plunder, murdered the provincial governor, and took his daughter as his wife—truly despicable.

Wang Yan turned to Wang Fusheng: "Dong Ping is the Military Inspector of Yunzhou. Has he ever contacted us before?"

"He never missed our New Year gifts, and always returned them. But previously, he seemed unwilling to associate with us. I wonder why he's suddenly seeking us now."

"He must have seen your rising power and your audience with the Emperor," Wu Song said. "His martial skill is excellent—I fought him. We battled for half a watch before I won. He lives up to his reputation. I told him your schedule—he's been staying in the city, waiting for your reply."

Wang Yan smiled and shook his head: "Bring him to me tomorrow."

"Yes, Great Lord."

"Anything else?" Seeing both men shake their heads, the Great Lord waved them off: "Then go about your business."

With that, he drained his tea, rose, and left. Turning right from the gate, he entered the inner courtyard. The house was too large—the main hall and the rear chambers were separated by a garden. He walked a while before entering the main chamber.

As he opened the door, he saw Jinlian holding the child, her eyes shimmering as she looked at him: "Da Guanren…"

Pan Jinlian had talent. She once didn't know how to attract men—but since becoming his concubine, she learned instinctively, and mastered it. She didn't bother with frivolous romantic tricks. She simply knew what he liked—and she became that.

Wang Yan stepped forward, wrapping his arm around Jinlian, one hand cradling the child: "I've been gone half a month. Are you well?"

Jin Lian, as if boneless, clung to Da Guanren: "Everything is fine, but I miss you so much, my heart aches for you."

Taking up the little one she'd been playing with, the three of them entered the eastern room and sat at the table. Wang Yan listened with a smile as Jin Lian chattered—how the child had started eating, how he bit while nursing, how she'd sewn several outfits and stitched a few pairs of little tiger shoes, how many characters he'd learned, how many books he'd listened to from the maid's reading, how busy she'd been. Da Guanren listened with a smile, and when she finished, he told her of his observations in Bianjing. He was a natural storyteller; his vivid tales filled Jin Lian with boundless longing. He spoke of how, when the child grew older, he would take him along to tour the city.

Returning home, it was nearly nightfall. After hearing the old steward's report and listening to Jin Lian's chatter, the sunlight had vanished outside.

Seeing the night had fallen, Jin Lian's face flushed with warmth, her eyes sparkling: "My lord rode hard all day, covered in dust—you must be exhausted. Let's eat early, and I'll serve you a bath and help you rest…"

A woman's longing must be spoken, and Da Guanren would never refuse. He immediately ordered wine and dishes brought in, handed the little one off to the maid, and the two shared a tender meal. Afterwards, they bathed and washed up.

Mmm-hmm, ah-hee—her soft, winding moans expressed a devotion words could never convey…

——————Extra Notes——————

Thank you, Brother "Lunhui Tianhun," for donating 1500 coins.

Thank you, Brother "No1 Wuliang Tianzun," for donating 500 coins to continue your support.

Thank you, Brother "Yue Nu Li Yue Xing Yun," for donating 500 coins.

Thank you, Brother "w_Ye Luo," for donating 500 coins.

Thank you, Brother "Shuyou," for donating 100 coins.

Thank you, Brothers "Hongyan Boming Yingxiong Lei," "Zheng Xinqi," and "Dahuang Zhi Dong," for continuing your support.

Regular thanks to the good brothers who voted for monthly tickets.

Thank you to all the brothers who voted for recommendations.

Thank you to the brothers who quietly read the book.