Shen Qingwu left the Eastern Capital, and about four months later, following her own inclinations, she became a bandit chief.

Chang Lin had told her not to go seize a mountain and set herself up as king of it, and she had taken his words to heart—so at first she’d only meant to become a wandering knight-errant, righting wrongs across the rivers and lakes. But the world rarely goes as planned. Passing by a mountain one day, Shen Qingwu ran into mountain bandits. She charged into their stronghold alone, successfully freed the trapped civilians, and, as a side effect, acquired herself a bandit den.

The bandits urged her to become their chief, while the local people, fearful that some new gang would come down and terrorize them, and with the local authorities useless, left her thinking it over—and she simply took the position herself, to keep this particular band of bandits in check.

She ran her new domain on pure spirit and nerve, and did it well. In three months she’d swept through all eight strongholds in the region one by one, until even the local government sent her gifts.

Shen Qingwu turned the gifts down. Chang Lin loomed over her like a mountain she couldn’t escape; she’d never dare let the authorities curry favor with her.

And so this woman bandit grew only more unfathomable in the eyes of the local magistrates.

Sometimes Shen Qingwu thought of Zhang Xingjian.

Whenever she thought of him, she thought of that absurd summer afternoon before they parted. Zhang Yuelu’s laughter, his little huffs and sighs, the warmth of his body, the scent of him, his soft long hair, his pale clean face… That reckless summer afternoon, because of him, had become a flame that never stopped burning in Shen Qingwu’s heart.

“Boss, word’s come in—the bandits north of the mountain mean to rob a group of travelers passing through. They’ve been lying in ambush for days!”

The report from her brothers made her forget Zhang Xingjian; she rose at once and headed out.

She still loved this kind of life, righting wrongs, playing the hero.

Shen Qingwu, as she’d hoped, led her men and beat back the enemy. But when she saw the person she’d rescued, she went numb.

The guard captain bowed in thanks, servants straightened the scattered cargo. They’d just survived a disaster, and everyone looked somewhat bedraggled, even the young master they served so loyally, dust in his hair, travel-worn from head to toe.

An apricot-colored robe, hair ribbon streaming in the wind, a handsome young noble bowed politely in thanks to his rescuers.

The bandits gathered around to gawk in wonder: so this is what a young noble looks like.

Shen Qingwu turned and walked away.

Behind her, her brothers called after her: “Boss, their carts are all wrecked, what do we do?”

She walked fast, and the men, thinking she hadn’t heard, came pulling at her one by one. Cursing inwardly, she had no choice but to turn around—and found herself looking straight into the eyes of the young noble who’d lifted his face, a distant, teasing smile already in them.

Ash clung to his lashes, scattering in the wind. The plain hair ribbon brushed against his fluttering sleeve as he lightly arched a brow.

And then, in front of everyone—

The smile in his eyes deepened, no longer the polite courtesy of a moment before.

He said, smiling, “Little Wutong. Long time no see.”

Shen Qingwu’s face was blank.

She said nothing. Her men were startled: “Boss, you know him?”

She still said nothing.

Zhang Xingjian went on as if to himself: “Of course we know each other… we’re…”

Shen Qingwu shot him a warning look.

He smiled. “I ran out on our wedding, years ago. Made your boss suffer quite a wrong.”

The bandits: “……”

They erupted: “How dare you?! Boss, let’s kill him!”

Shen Qingwu glared at Zhang Xingjian.

She asked, “Can you people walk?”

Zhang Xingjian shook his head. “Afraid not. The carts are wrecked, the servants and guards are injured, and I’m hurt too—can’t walk.”

The guards stood at attention, swords in arms: if the young master said they were hurt, then hurt they were.

One of her brothers leaned in close, playing strategist: “Boss, this runaway ex-fiancé of yours doesn’t look like an ordinary person. Might have something to do with the authorities. Better keep an eye on him before we let them go. If they turn out to be here to wipe us out, we’re in trouble.”

Shen Qingwu looked coldly at Zhang Xingjian.

“Come with us,” she said.

Zhang Xingjian’s eyes curved into a smile.

Back at the stronghold, everyone quickly decided their boss still carried a torch for this heartless runaway groom.

The man had fled his own wedding!

When it came to housing him, the bandits meant to just toss the whole lot into a wooden holding cell, but Shen Qingwu, who’d been marching ahead in silence, suddenly turned back and said, “Get him a clean room. Change the bedding, all of it new.”

She thought a moment more. “And don’t tie him up either.”

The bandits looked at her, disgusted with how far gone she was.

They glared at Zhang Xingjian. “You’re really a piece of work, you know that?”

The scoundrel Zhang Xingjian, smiling, said, “Then let me tell you all just how much of a scoundrel I am.”

The bandits: “……”

Shen Qingwu: “……”

So the whole afternoon, the stronghold gathered around this newly arrived young master to hear the tale of how he’d once wronged Shen Qingwu.

By his own telling: “Wutong and I grew up together, close as can be, but as I got older, I stopped treasuring her so much. All the flowers and grass outside caught my eye instead…”

Shen Qingwu sat off to one side, drinking plain water, her face never changing, while the bandits roundly condemned Zhang Xingjian for being such a faithless cad.

And the more they condemned him, the happier he got.

Any bandit who wandered past got dragged over: “Come, come, let me tell you how I abandoned your boss…”

Shen Qingwu: “……”

This man’s tongue was as sharp as ever, no better than before.

Her brothers cursed him up and down, but who they were really cursing, she preferred not to say.

Shen Qingwu sat through an entire afternoon of listening to people insult her, essentially, and finally couldn’t take it anymore. She said, face dark, “Don’t any of you need to eat?”

The bandits, still absorbed in the story: “Young Master Zhang tells such a good story…”

Shen Qingwu: “Can a story fill your belly? It’s past mealtime, the food won’t wait for you.”

Everyone came back to their senses at once, realizing this man had been brought in by them. They tried to gauge Shen Qingwu’s mood, unsure whether to invite Zhang Xingjian to eat with them—only to find she’d already walked up to where he sat, surrounded by the crowd.

She reached out and grabbed him by the arm.

The bandits watched, wide-eyed, as their boss hauled the gentle, scholarly Young Master Zhang away.

Ah well.

Their boss really did still have a thing for heartless men.

The door shut behind them.

Shen Qingwu took a deep breath and turned to face Zhang Xingjian, who had settled himself down, robe pulled up, sitting easy.

“Having fun?” she asked.

He smiled. “Extremely.”

She choked on her own anger.

“What are you mad about?” he said. “They were cursing a faithless cad. Is that you?”

She changed the subject. “How did you find me?”

He smiled, giving nothing away. “Who said I was looking for you?”

She blinked, caught off guard.

He studied her. “Did you think, once you left, I’d be heartbroken, chasing after you? Rest easy—if you want to call off the engagement, all you have to do is come back to the Eastern Capital with me, and I’ll agree any time. I won’t stop you. I left the capital on business of my own, not for your sake. Don’t flatter yourself.”

Shen Qingwu: “……”

It hadn’t occurred to her that he might not be here for her. “…You’re not here looking for me?”

He shook his head.

An inexplicable anger rose in her. “Then how is it we happened to meet here?”

“Coincidence,” he said.

She walked toward him, stopped at the edge of the bed, crossed her arms, and looked down at him. “Fine. Then tell me—what business took you out of the capital?”

“Court secrets. How could I possibly tell you?”

“Then you’ll be leaving tomorrow?”

“No. There’s a traitor working with our enemies from the inside on my end—that’s how the bandits got me in the first place. Since you’re the one who wronged me, until I find this traitor, you owe it to me to keep me safe.”

He announced, smiling, “Wutong, I’m going to live in your stronghold.”

She gave a cold laugh.

Before she could speak, he went on: “Don’t worry, I haven’t come for love. As for what happened between us—I’ve thought it over quite clearly. We were betrothed as children, and it’s understandable you resented it.

“As for that absurd afternoon…”

He paused.

His bright eyes reflected her own slightly stiff gaze, and her fingers, clenched a little too tightly around her own arm.

When she got nervous, this was what she did. The more silent she went, the more it gave her away.

Something in Zhang Xingjian’s heart laughed: so you have days like this too.

Aloud, his voice stayed nothing but gentle. “That absurd afternoon—thinking it over carefully, it wasn’t really anything.”

“Wasn’t anything?”

He nodded. “It was too hot that day, and there was too much… noise outside. We were young, got swept up in it without really knowing what we were doing, did something reckless—that’s understandable, really. Lucky for you, it didn’t leave you with child… otherwise, that would have been trouble.”

He tilted his face up. “Isn’t that how you see it too?”

She scoffed.

“Actually, you didn’t need to leave,” he said. “After that day, I’d meant to apologize to you.”

Her lashes trembled.

No—that day, it was she who’d held onto him and wouldn’t let go. She was the one who couldn’t resist the temptation, the one infatuated with him… She’d gripped his waist, felt his skin burning hot beneath her hands, listened to his voice, and hadn’t wanted to stop.

When he’d said it hurt, she hadn’t paid it any mind. She’d only felt that heady rush, lost entirely in it. The more he said he didn’t want to, the more excited it made her.

Afterward… even she had been shaken by who she’d been that day.

But there was another voice in her, quieter: she didn’t regret it.

He really was… so good to sleep with.

So now, with him talking about apologies, she said nothing.

She could write him a letter, lying that she felt she’d wronged him—but in her heart, she felt no regret at all.

Who, with a piece of sweet meat dangled endlessly in front of them, could stay perfectly still?

She asked him, “So, you’re using that to hold it over me—to stay on my territory until whatever business of yours is settled, and only then will you leave? And this court secret of yours, you still won’t tell me what it actually is?”

He nodded.

She lowered her head, thinking.

Her instinct was to refuse. She felt certain nothing good could come of his being here.

But… when she looked at him, some small figure in her heart couldn’t help but leap with joy.

Seeing her fall silent again, he tried to read her thoughts, and said slowly, “I’m really not clinging to you out of any lingering feelings… Put it this way—I’ve already started looking for a new wife…”

Her gaze turned genuinely fierce.

Had her stare been solid, he would have been run through on the spot.

Instead—since it wasn’t—he was able to go on talking. “And I’ve already chosen her, as it happens. Once I’m back in the Eastern Capital and our engagement is formally ended, I plan to marry. I’m not exactly young anymore, after all.”

“You haven’t even had your capping ceremony. People in your family don’t marry that young.”

He smiled. “Can’t help it if I’m fond of her.”

“Who is she?”

“You don’t know her.”

“Don’t underestimate me.”

So he gave a name, a family, an identity.

Shen Qingwu: “……”

He spread his hands. “See? Told you. You don’t know her.”

“Pretty, to your taste?”

He smiled and nodded.

“Gentle and virtuous, and dumb enough to be fooled by you?”

He sighed. “Why would you say something like that?”

He said, with apparent concern, “I’m not like you—I need a household of my own before I can properly build a career. You know our family’s situation. I really do envy you—young as you are, in no rush to marry.”

“Who says I’m not in a rush?” she shot back. “I’m plenty in a rush. I want to start a family first too, before building anything.”

He went quiet for a long moment.

“Sounds like you’ve no shortage of admirers,” he said softly, “if that’s the kind of thinking it’s put in your head.”

His voice was gentle, but there was something cold in the tone—Shen Qingwu, too busy sparring with him, didn’t catch it.

She sniffed haughtily. “My admirers stretch from one end of this mountain to the other.”

“Sounds like you’ve really got your marriage all planned out.”

“Naturally.”

“Tell me, then.”

She had no plan at all, but not wanting to lose the exchange, she dug through her memory for whatever proverbs she could find. “Once I’m married, I plan to have children right away. Two in three years!”

He smiled sweetly. “Really? But do you know—if a woman bears children too often, the fat around her waist piles up something terrible, coiling like a snake, ring after ring, quite unsightly. You’ve always been proud of your figure. Would you really want that?”

She pictured it—the fat on her waist coiled up like a snake—and was thoroughly alarmed.

Her expression froze.

He burst out laughing at once. “You actually believed that?”

She realized instantly she’d been played.

Damn him, he always talked like this!

Furious, she forgot her own wariness of him, forgot she’d just been reminding herself not to get too close. Seeing him doubled over laughing on the bed, she lunged and pinned him down onto it.

She raised her fists and struck a few blows against his chest.

He laughed himself breathless, eyes crinkled with mirth, gasping, “Ow… don’t hit my chest.”

She’d always been careful with him, pulling her punches, not wanting to actually hurt him. Furious, she reached instead to pinch the flesh at his waist. Extremely ticklish, he twisted away.

He gasped, “Don’t—”

His voice came out a little hoarse.

She froze.

In her mind rose the memory of that afternoon, the sound of his breath against her shoulder, suppressed, excited, resisting and yearning all at once…

While she was lost in the memory, the young man beneath her let his smile fade.

She looked down at him.

His warm, gentle eyes gazed up at her.

Just as the strange charge in the air made her start to pull back, embarrassed, Zhang Xingjian suddenly caught her hand, not letting her go.

Still straddling him, she heard him say, smiling, “Should I vet your suitors for you, as your elder… brother?”

Flustered, she said, “No need.”

“Why not? Didn’t you just find out I’m a heartless cad? What if your next fiancé runs too?”

“Hey! Are you dragging me into your own insults now?!”

He laughed.

She found herself laughing too, unable to help it.

Maybe, she thought, he really didn’t mean any harm.

Maybe she didn’t need to always be on guard against him.

She asked, “You’re really staying, then?”

He nodded.

He said softly, “Wutong, get up now. You’re crushing me.”

Only then did she register the awkward position they were in. Pretending nothing had happened, she jumped up, and heard him complain: “You bandits really have no sense of restraint. Look, I’m bruised all over.”

She said at once, “Where does it hurt? Let me see.”

He turned his face away. “It hurts at the waist. Want to look there?”

She silently withdrew her hand.

He gave her a look that said just as I thought, and sighed. “Look at my shoulder instead. My back’s been aching all day.”

“You really need to train more.”

“Will you spar with me, then?”

“At your level, you’re not even worth my time.”

He sighed. “I did come from one of the great families of the capital, you know. If you have your men spar with me instead, and they don’t know their own strength and hurt me—won’t it be you who ends up feeling bad?”

She rapped him on the shoulder.

“Behave,” she said coldly.

So he behaved: “Mm. No need for anyone else to hit me—you’re quite capable of beating me to death all on your own.”

She couldn’t help laughing.

She had to hold herself back from throwing herself at him from behind, from wrapping her arms around him. She told herself—he was about to get married, she’d already made her choice, she shouldn’t complicate things…

But why did Zhang Xingjian have to be such an interesting person?

Why did everything he said make her want to laugh? And why did he have to have hair so black and so soft, shoulders so slight and so thin…

Stop.

She cut herself off before her thoughts could go further.

Zhang Xingjian soon noticed that a few of the bandit chiefs were rather taken with their own Wutong. After all, their Wutong was a girl, and among a crowd of men, she was the most tempting morsel around. Not to mention their Wutong was young, quite pretty, and cut a striking figure in a fight…

Naturally she looked good. She’d been trained by the Zhang family—how could she not be impressive in a fight?

But she was theirs, the Zhang family’s own creation—why should anyone else get to profit from her?

Fortunately, Shen Qingwu was hopeless when it came to matters of the heart, and never noticed that anyone admired her at all.

So all those quiet, unspoken feelings were, without a trace, smoothly dissolved by Zhang Xingjian.

The guards and servants who’d come with him were dismissed the very next day. He told Shen Qingwu they’d gone off on assignment, and that she now needed to personally guard him.

He said, mournfully, “I still don’t know who the traitor is. If you’re not careful, I could die right in front of you and you wouldn’t even know it.”

“Don’t talk nonsense,” she said.

She didn’t quite believe him, but she couldn’t afford the consequences if he was right. So, reluctantly, she found herself tied to his side most days.

But the men who fancied Shen Qingwu weren’t only the ones who hinted at it quietly.

Some declared themselves outright—one bandit chief brought her gifts, wrote her love poems.

She’d just finished reading one such poem, delighted that someone liked her, when word came that Zhang Xingjian had fallen ill.

She had no choice but to drop the poem and go see him.

Struck down with a chill, he still didn’t forget to grasp her hand and warn her: “Wutong, don’t be foolish enough to accept that man’s proposal. He’s nowhere near good enough for you. I really do worry you’ll be deceived…”

Patiently, she said, “Just take your medicine.”

“He really isn’t good enough for you…”

“Yes, yes, I know. I won’t agree to anything before you’re better. Satisfied now?”

He was satisfied.

So the next suitor to confess to Shen Qingwu—just as she was starting to feel pleased about it—turned out to have beaten Zhang Xingjian up.

“…How did this happen?” she asked.

Her brothers scratched their heads. “No idea. Young Master Zhang was just out for a walk, and that guy decided he didn’t like the look of him, and went at him…”

She had no choice but to go check on his injuries.

Zhang Xingjian, once again coughing in her arms, grabbed her hand: “That man is no match for you…”

Her expression stayed flat.

He coughed, pale and weak. “He’s not good enough for you…”

She reached out and struck one of his pressure points—effectively telling him to be quiet.

When yet another man came to confess, Shen Qingwu waited, and sure enough, Zhang Xingjian turned up injured again. Apparently, that man had claimed to like Shen Qingwu to her face, while privately mocking her behind her back. Zhang Xingjian had overheard and gone to confront him. Unable to beat the man, he’d ended up hurt.

Slowly, she went to him. Slowly, she soothed him.

Before he could get a word out, she cut in first: “He’s not a good match for me, I already know. No one in this world is good enough for me. I won’t be agreeing to anyone before you’re well.”

Shen Qingwu thought to herself: Zhang Xingjian knew martial arts.

A man who knew martial arts, getting hurt day after day—that made no sense at all. She decided to watch and see just what he was really up to.

With Zhang Xingjian stirring the pot, Shen Qingwu found herself with hardly any admirers left.

One day there was a temple fair at the foot of the mountain. When he heard, Zhang Xingjian wanted to go down and see it.

Shen Qingwu went with him.

As the evening lanterns came up, the two of them wandered through the crowds, him leading her by the hand, laughing that he was afraid of losing her.

She found her mind elsewhere.

Suddenly he tugged at her hand. “Wutong, look.”

She followed the direction of his finger—

It was a young couple. The young man appeared to have recently survived a bout of smallpox; he’d lived, but it had left his face covered in scars, ugly to look at. The beautiful young woman beside him showed no distaste at all, even dabbing the sweat from his brow with her handkerchief.

The man’s face really was startling, and many people nearby wore expressions of disgust.

Shen Qingwu’s face went cold, and she shot Zhang Xingjian a look.

What was he doing, staring at someone else’s misfortune?

The man himself clearly felt self-conscious about his looks, worried about offending others. Despite his wife’s reluctance, he insisted on buying a mask and putting it on.

Zhang Xingjian murmured in her ear, laughing, “Why’s he wearing a mask?”

She knew perfectly well he had a mischievous streak, but hadn’t expected him to mock someone like this.

She glared at him. “Because he looks handsome! What business is it of yours? Let’s go.”

She grabbed him, fierce, and tried to drag him off, but he wouldn’t budge—instead he caught her wrist and pulled her back.

She was genuinely angry with him now.

She spun around, ready to give him a piece of her mind, only to find a hideous, grotesque mask suddenly right in front of her face, covering his.

Grinning behind it, he asked, “You said handsome, didn’t you?”

Shen Qingwu: “……”

She stared at the ugly mask in front of her and couldn’t help bursting into laughter.

He pulled the mask down, and before he knew it, she’d thrown herself at him, hugging him.

It was that playfulness of hers that made his heart skip—but no sooner had she done it than she turned and walked off, taking the mask with her.

She walked into the crowd, stood beneath the lantern light, and looked back at him.

Her eyes were bright, no longer laughing now, just watching him intently.

His expression softened, gentle. He murmured, “Wutong, wait for me.”

He followed after her.

From that night on, something between them had shifted.

There was something faintly… intimate now.

Being alone together had grown a little sweet.

But Zhang Xingjian said nothing of it, and neither did Shen Qingwu. The bandits guessed their old feelings were rekindling; she refused to admit it.

It was around this time that, through some carelessness on her part, a traitor appeared among the bandits, and things fell into chaos.

The authorities at the foot of the mountain suddenly moved to wipe them out—one of the bandits had slipped down the mountain and informed on them, giving away their exact position. Shen Qingwu led her people in retreat; she had no wish to fight the government, and no wish to make things difficult for Chang Lin and the others.

Retreating this way let them dodge disaster, but it left the brothers following her grumbling with resentment.

Still, she held firm, insisting on this course. Those who defied her were either killed or badly hurt, and after that, no one dared say another word.

After three days on the run, they finally shook off the government’s pursuit and stopped to rest in a mountain clearing.

Three days of intense, continuous fighting had left Shen Qingwu utterly exhausted. She’d barely leaned against a tree for a few breaths of rest when she heard a commotion. Eyes weary, she opened them to find one of her brothers rushing over, thrilled:

“Boss, we caught the one who tipped off the people down the mountain about the raid!”

Only then did Shen Qingwu realize Zhang Xingjian wasn’t with her, and her heart sank—a bad feeling.

Sure enough, she hurried after her men to find them surrounding Zhang Xingjian, accusing him of being the traitor.

“The traitor was the man who fled down the mountain before,” she said. “I already killed him. Zhang Yuelu is not the one.”

The bandits wouldn’t accept it. “Ever since he came up the mountain, he’s found every excuse to stick close to you, Boss. We know he ran out on his wedding to you once, and that you can’t let go of your old feelings for him, but you can’t put a brother’s life on the line for the sake of old feelings.

“And besides, we caught him sending a letter down the mountain—we intercepted it, it’s written in some code none of us can read. He was clearly sending word to the authorities! The proof is right here, and you still won’t believe it!”

Shen Qingwu stared at Zhang Xingjian.

He stood there, refined and gentle as ever, firelight playing over his fine features.

Meeting her gaze, he said nothing.

She said again, “He is not the traitor.”

The bandits were furious. “We have proof!”

“Bring it here,” she said.

So the note Zhang Xingjian had meant to send down the mountain was handed over to her.

She read it over, head bowed, and said, “I understand his code… This isn’t an informer’s letter. He’s writing to a friend of his, saying we’re short on food and water, and asking his friend to find a way to gather supplies. In two days, his friend will deliver food and water to a designated spot, and the authorities won’t be able to starve us out.

“If you don’t believe me, you’ll see the truth in three days’ time.”

The bandits stood stunned, half-convinced.

They looked at Zhang Xingjian, still surrounded by torches, still saying nothing.

She spoke again. “And there’s something else I need to make clear.”

She took a deep breath.

Her eyes met his, across the ring of firelight.

He looked at her tenderly.

She no longer looked away.

“The heartless one who fled the wedding,” she said, “was never Zhang Yuelu. It was me.”

The crowd went silent with shock. Shen Qingwu was already striding forward, into their midst. The bandits gave way before her presence, watching as she took Zhang Xingjian and walked off, back to the treehouse where they were camped, and shut the door behind them.

Once the door was closed, she asked, “Did they hurt you?”

He smiled. “Just scraped my hand a little.”

He held it out.

She went to find ointment, had him sit on the bed, and tended to the wound.

Head bowed, she heard him say, smiling, “Wutong, you really have gotten me into some trouble.”

She didn’t look up. “Hm?”

“In three days, where am I supposed to conjure up enough food and water for everyone? If I can’t manage it, they’ll go on suspecting me—and you, their boss, will end up under suspicion too.”

She said, indifferent, “You’ll find a way. You managed to get a letter out; you clearly have some means of reaching people. Whether you can stay with me depends on whether you can pull this off.”

He was quiet for a long moment.

He smiled. “Do I want to stay with you?”

She ignored the question.

She sat by the candlelight, carefully applying medicine to his wrist. Following her all this way, he really had suffered a fair amount… but he was easygoing by nature, and endured it well; he only ever complained to her when the two of them were alone.

She asked, “That letter you sent down the mountain—what did it actually say?”

He smiled. “Ah, so you really can’t read it after all… Wutong, you’re such a fool. You couldn’t even read my letter, and yet you stood there and lied to everyone’s face to protect me. What if I really had come here to wipe you all out?”

“I thought about that,” she said, flat.

She looked up at him.

“When I stood in front of everyone and saw you surrounded, all I could think about was how to save you. There were two ways. One was to kill everyone there. The other was… the lie I told, to buy time and get you out of there. From today on, you have to stay with me at all times, or you’ll die.

“I don’t want to kill the men following me now. So I only had the second option.”

Something flickered in his eyes.

“All you thought about,” he said, “was how to protect me. It never occurred to you that I might be lying to you—that I came to your side with some other purpose.”

She said, flat, “Because I grew up with you. I know you—you’re a man of deep schemes, and unless you truly wanted to cut all ties with me, you’d never choose a method so obviously bound to make me furious.

“And watching how you’ve carried yourself all this while, you don’t look like a man trying to sever ties with me. So whatever that note said, it can’t have been anything against me—whatever it was.”

She finished with the ointment and rose to leave.

Zhang Xingjian reached out, wrapped his arms around her from behind, and pulled her back. She struggled faintly, but he held on, and she found herself pulled back into his embrace.

He held her from behind, his breath warm against her neck.

In the stillness, he said, gentle, “That letter really was meant for the authorities. But it wasn’t for wiping you out—I was speaking to them as a member of the Zhang family, asking them to let you all be.

“Wutong, my cousin—your Chang Lin, your big brother—could never allow you to go on as a bandit, wreaking havoc on the region. But there are too many bandits in this world, too many ordinary people driven up into the mountains to count. I told my cousin: if this gray area must exist regardless, wouldn’t it be better to let Wutong bring them under control, and ease the burden on the authorities?

“Wutong, I came a few months later than you because I needed time to prepare all this.”

She sat frozen.

After a long moment, she asked, “Chang Lin agreed to this?”

He laughed softly. “Don’t you trust my abilities?”

He said, quietly, “Wutong, whatever you want to do, I’ll help you do it. Just… don’t send me away.”

He’d finally said it.

She listened in silence.

“Zhang Yuelu,” she said.

“Mm?”

“You lied to me again, didn’t you—there was no real mission that brought you out of the capital at all. No mission would let you just settle in with a band of bandits, never going back down the mountain, never handling official business, with your guards not even pressing you to move.”

“Well…”

She said, low, “What is actually going on with you?”

He sighed.

He smiled. “All right, fine—the truth is, I resigned my post.”

He smiled faintly. “No court official can stay away from the capital indefinitely, and no official position would let me follow you for as long as I wanted. I thought it over, and decided resigning was simplest.”

She looked up sharply.

She turned to face him fully.

Leaning close, her eyes fixed on his without wavering.

The young man before her, his eyes full of warmth, said, “Wutong, if you want to be a bandit chief, I’ll help you bring the mountain bandits into order. If you want to right wrongs across the land, I’ll help you settle disputes over property. If you want to join the army, I’ll be your strategist.

“Wherever you go, I can follow.

“I’ve spent my whole life learning—a little of everything, my head full of schemes and calculations, not a thought in me that isn’t tangled up in some plan or another… but this whole set of skills, I only ever learned so I could follow you.

“If you won’t let me stay by your side, then all these skills I’ve built up mean nothing at all.”

“Wutong, I… I…”

She cut him off. “I like you.”

She reached up and touched his face. “You’re so fragrant…

“So soft…

“So sweet…”

He said, deadpan, “Not soft. I’m quite substantial.”

His teasing only delighted her more, deep in her feeling as she was.

She leaned into him, wrapped her arms around him, buried her face in his chest.

She kissed him again and again. “This isn’t for your sake, what I’m saying. It’s for mine.

“Zhang Yuelu, I like you.

“I gave you a chance to walk away. Since you refused it, from now on, I won’t give you another chance to leave. You’re mine now.”

She sighed against his ear. “You have no idea…”

“What?” he asked.

She didn’t answer. She tilted her head up and caught his lip between her teeth. He winced, startled, and she, mimicking the curve of his smile, kissed him again, in earnest this time.

He had no idea just how thoroughly that reckless summer afternoon had left its taste in her.

She wanted the moon, but she didn’t want to ruin it.

So she’d worked hard to find a way—to scheme, just a little, against the moon in her heart, to see whether the moon was willing to walk beside her.

It was the only time in her life she ever played games with his heart.

And she won.