Volume One: The King's Command Chapter Fifteen: Youth Does Not Come Twice

At Zhongli’s earnest invitation, Liu Xiaoyi and his companion joined the group, riding side by side on horseback. Along the way, they chatted and laughed with Zhongli, as if the farce from earlier had been completely forgotten.

Shen Zhong sat sideways at the front of the carriage, his gaze never straying from Liu Xiaoyi’s back.

“Sis, what do you make of this fellow? Master Zhongli actually took the initiative to speak with him—rare, truly rare.”

“If you had that kind of ability, Father wouldn’t have forbidden you from venturing into the world. When we reach the city, you’ll have to pay him a proper visit.” Shen Xu was well-versed in etiquette; without this man, they never could have returned safely.

Since their encounter and all the way to the gates of Changle City, they’d run into no fewer than a dozen bands of highwaymen. Zhongli alone couldn’t have ensured the siblings’ safety, but with Liu Xiaoyi riding at the carriage’s side, his sword flashed with every threat—one push, one pull, and all who dared offend them were felled.

Shen Zhong, who had always loved swordplay, seized the chance to show his own skills, finishing off a few foes alongside Liu Xiaoyi, savoring every moment.

By the time they entered the city, Shen Zhong and Liu Xiaoyi had become as close as brothers. “Brother Shen, I’ll call on you another day. I have business to attend to and must take my leave for now.”

“Where’s your shop? I’ll come find you!”

“It’s the seventh building in the Thirteenth Ward!” Liu Xiaoyi, holding the official writ, wasted no time on the bustling streets, hurrying straight to the address. Out front, several unsharpened swords hung from bamboo poles, and inside, a few customers milled about.

To his surprise, Banner Mountain’s business in Changle City was a weapons shop. Liu Xiaoyi couldn’t help but marvel—if Xia Liang saw a weapons shop open in the heart of Central Province, she’d probably burst out laughing.

Central Province was unlike anywhere else; weapons here were dazzlingly ornate, sword hilts adorned with tassels, scabbards inlaid with gold. Liu Xiaoyi surveyed the shop, taking in the scene of prosperity.

A shop assistant, seeing new customers, greeted them with a broad smile. “Welcome, sirs! Our prices are fair, our stock complete, and we have a master smith in residence—”

Before he could finish, a letter stamped in red was thrust before his eyes. When he saw the seal, the assistant’s expression changed.

“Sir Steward from Banner Mountain, please wait here a moment while I fetch our local steward.” With that, the assistant hurried out, letter in hand, heading down the eastern avenue.

The document from the Second Elder authorized Liu Xiaoyi to act as Banner Mountain’s steward here, and upon hearing that a new steward had arrived, Steward Wang of Changle City leapt from his bed, hardly pausing to dress before rushing to the back courtyard of the weapons shop.

Liu Xiaoyi was sipping tea, resting with Yu Wenwan on bamboo chairs in the courtyard. The long journey and several fierce battles had left them both exhausted; Yu Wenwan, unable to hold on, was already half-asleep.

Steward Wang, sporting a greasy belly, dabbed his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief and glanced around. Only two young people sat in the courtyard.

Could these two be the new stewards? They seemed far too young.

To be a city steward required experience. Changle City had originally had three stewards, but after transfers and promotions, only Wang remained. He enjoyed a free and easy life, and the monthly silver flowed straight into his pockets.

Yet he was a diligent man, his only vice an appetite for good food. Honest and upright, he kept the city’s shops in order, and nothing had gone awry for five or six years.

Wang widened his eyes, trying to gather his facial flesh into a congenial smile. “May I ask, which of you is the new steward?”

“You must be Wang Fucai, Steward Wang?” Liu Xiaoyi had heard of him from the Second Elder—a trusted confidant, promoted from the kitchen staff.

Wang Fucai caught his tone and instantly understood. The letter had made it clear this was a relative of the Second Elder, likely a nephew.

“Yes, yes, I am Wang Fucai. May I know your esteemed surname?”

“Liu Xiaoyi. This is Miss Yu of the Yu family from Banner Mountain, daughter of the Grand Elder. You’ve heard of her?”

Of course he had. The affairs of the Yu and Xue families were well known in Central Province, but to him, the two Elders’ influence was what truly mattered.

He dared not offend these two, silently praying they weren’t spoiled scions who’d be difficult to please.

“Elder Liu, here is the account ledger for Banner Mountain. There are thirteen shops in Changle City; I previously managed them alone—it’s quite a task.” Wang Fucai spoke with humility, testing their reaction.

Yu Wenwan suddenly stood, gathered the thick stack of ledgers, and handed them back. “Steward Wang, after such a tiring journey, we can’t see straight. Since you’ve managed well so far, we won’t trouble you. We’ll talk in a few days, once we’ve rested.”

“Miss Yu is right. I’ll send someone to prepare a residence—there are several fine homes in the city—”

She waved him off. “This place is good enough. Steward Liu practices martial arts and loves weapons.”

In a few words, she showed such deftness that Wang Fucai was left astonished. She saw right through his thoughts, and as he was led out by a shop assistant, he found himself unable to fathom her intentions.

No interest in the ledgers, no desire for the shops, no need for a new residence—was the Second Elder testing him? He considered writing for clarification but hesitated.

Watching Wang Fucai leave with a troubled face, Liu Xiaoyi couldn’t help but laugh. “Miss Yu, you’ll have to mind the weapons shop. I’ll act as your bodyguard and keep you safe.”

She teased him, “You’re not serious for a moment—on the road, you held me tight enough. You must be a real charmer, even your sword is carved with peach blossoms.” They’d ridden together on one horse for days, and with that unspoken understanding between them, two lonely souls cast adrift, what other concerns could matter?

Unwed man, unmarried woman, now living together in the same courtyard—any awkwardness would have to be overcome gradually. All along the way, Yu Wenwan had steeled herself, calming her nerves.

That night at the inn, Yu Wenwan had suddenly realized that her sixteen years of peaceful life were truly gone. Xue Yiran’s grave had not even a wildflower, and the ashes of the Yu family were cold.

No more “young lady”—all she could rely on was the mysterious, possibly even more tormented youth at her side, who still kept secrets from her, gripping his sword tightly every night.

And as for Liu Xiaoyi, seeing her gentle smile and hearing the lightness in her voice, he finally relaxed. “Miss Yu, now that we’re here, there’s something you need to understand. Traveling with me is dangerous. Ask Steward Wang for a house—live elsewhere.”

No one knew how many powerful figures, aware of the Imperial Edict’s whereabouts, would come seeking him.

“Then let me be clear too.” Yu Wenwan stepped close, pressing her hand gently to his chest, feeling his quickened heartbeat. “You’ve taken every liberty with me along the way. If you leave now, what face would I have left? You brought me here—be a man and see it through.”