Just for doing the laundry?

Smack! Pan Yueyang loosened his grip, and Wanwan was flung to the ground without a trace of gentleness or concern. She landed solidly, her backside taking the brunt of the fall, and the pain made her wonder if her tailbone had been split into four.

Pan Yueyang glanced at the stiff figure sprawled on the grass, not even furrowing his brow. From his perspective, a fall from this height was nothing; after all, he had endured the harsh training of the barracks. Such trivialities were of little consequence to him.

"Where do you want to go? Or..." After a brief pause for thought, Pan Yueyang spoke in his unhurried manner, "Have you decided your next move?"

Wanwan clearly didn't understand a word he was saying. She tried hard to sit up, but her waist refused to cooperate. She wriggled in place, wincing at the pain.

"Speak!" Pan Yueyang's patience was running thin. He had tested this woman the night before—she had no inner strength at all, meaning she knew nothing of martial arts. Her body was also exceptionally supple, which suggested she had not endured the years of toil expected of a servant. Not a martial artist, nor a proper servant—clearly, there was another purpose behind her selection this time.

Wanwan cowered under Pan Yueyang's intimidating gaze, fearfully stammering, "I need to find... Mother Zhang. My clothes haven't been washed properly yet, and you lost my bucket." She was so flustered that she choked on her own saliva, coughing repeatedly.

Pan Yueyang's eyes deepened. She’d snuck out the window just to wash clothes? Just to find a bucket?

Before she could continue, he looked at her tearful, struggling expression and was struck by a rare pang of pity. He bent down, scooped her up, and strode purposefully back into the room.

Feng He and Ting Li, who were standing at the doorway, were startled to see Wanwan being carried in. They hurriedly bowed, bewildered. The woman who had been in the room only moments ago was now suddenly in the general’s arms. Their hair stood on end—this was clearly a failure in their duties.

Ignoring the two maids, Pan Yueyang carried Wanwan directly into the inner chamber.

Wanwan remained perfectly still in his arms, not out of willingness but because any movement sent a sharp pain through her waist. She suspected she had strained it, and if not for Pan Yueyang carrying her, she would have been left rigid and helpless on the grass.

"Call for a physician to see her. Have Dan Yunjie come to the study to see me," Pan Yueyang ordered, observing Wanwan's pained expression. It was clear she was in no state to struggle; otherwise, the woman who had been so flustered before him would never have submitted so docilely to being held. Even last night, she had pushed him away with both hands, trying to resist. In her eyes now, he saw only fear.

Though tenderness did not come naturally to him, Pan Yueyang made a conscious effort to be gentle with Wanwan. He softly laid her on the bed and pressed a sleep acupoint to let her rest.

In the study,

Upon hearing the summons, Dan Yunjie hastened to the study to await Pan Yueyang. With his years of experience, he knew this could not be for anything good.

"Yunjie, while I was away from the residence, has anything happened?" Pan Yueyang seated himself gracefully at the desk, opened the account book Dan Yunjie had just placed before him, and scanned its contents swiftly.

"Everything is as before," Dan Yunjie replied.

"Truly?" Pan Yueyang closed the book, not looking up. He picked up his teacup and sipped slowly.

"Indeed, General," Dan Yunjie replied respectfully, bowing low.

Dan Yunjie heard no sound, and remained bent over in his bow, his old waist aching from the strain. Pan Yueyang continued to savor his tea in silence, his leisurely composure nearly driving Dan Yunjie mad. He desperately wanted to grab Pan Yueyang by the collar and shout, "What are you putting on airs for? You're just the designated male lead chosen by some clueless person. Stop acting so high and mighty—I ought to give you a piece of my mind!"

Wiping the sweat from his brow with a sleeve, Dan Yunjie could only suffer in silence. "General, the matter of choosing people for the main house is not within my authority. It has always been handled by Miss Xueqing. I truly have no part in it. You and Miss Xueqing share glances; why not ask her instead of bullying an honest man?"

"Go," Pan Yueyang said, setting down his teacup and reopening the ledger.

Dan Yunjie immediately straightened up, his back aching. He turned to leave as if fleeing for his life, but paused at the threshold. Gathering his resolve, he turned back and offered a final, heartfelt reminder, "General, Lady Qin has been waiting for you in the Autumn Courtyard since last night." Having delivered his message, he hurried away.

After the physician's visit, Wanwan's face fell. Recalling the doctor's verdict, she rubbed her waist in grievance, looking for all the world like a young bride who’d been wronged. "It’s just a sprain," the old physician had said. "I’ll prepare some medicine for you to take as directed. Avoid walking for a few days, rest in bed, and you’ll be well."

Pan Yueyang found Xueqing in the garden, directing servants as they trimmed the flowers and shrubs. Xueqing’s mother had been his wet nurse, and Xueqing herself was born on the same day as he was—his childhood companion.

"Yueyang," Xueqing called, her lips curving into a gentle smile as she looked at him with eyes as soft as water, stepping forward to meet him.

She wore a light purple gauze dress, revealing and airy for the summer. Both shoulders were draped in sheer fabric of the same color, and the open neckline fell perfectly at her chest, the bodice embroidered with budding peonies that stretched diagonally across her torso, accentuating her slender waist. As she moved, the skirt swayed gracefully, as if she had stepped straight out of a blossom.

Pan Yueyang maintained his usual composure. "So, tending the garden today?"

"Yes, the plants have grown tall and need proper care." Every time Xueqing stood beside Pan Yueyang, a sweet warmth filled her heart, her voice honeyed and soft.

She stood at his side with the calm assurance of a mistress—composed, gentle, understanding—qualities she longed to offer Pan Yueyang.

Looking at her profile, Pan Yueyang smiled faintly and began strolling down the garden path. Xueqing followed closely, awaiting his idle conversation.

"I have someone new in my quarters," Pan Yueyang remarked, admiring the orderly beauty Xueqing had brought to the garden.

"Yes, I met her the other day. I couldn’t bear to see the girl suffer, so I bought her. She seems honest, doesn’t speak much, works decently, and comes from a respectable family. Training a maid takes effort, so I reassigned Ting Li to the main house and let Wanwan help in the kitchen for now," Xueqing quickly pondered why Pan Yueyang would know about Wanwan.

"Keep her in my quarters. I have other plans for her."

Xueqing nodded, saying nothing more, but watched Pan Yueyang’s tall figure with puzzlement. He was the man she had always adored. Since childhood, she had revolved around him—playing, practicing martial arts together, standing guard as he slept, waiting by his side at every meal, quietly noting his preferences, accompanying him during his darkest moods, practicing swordplay together, tending to him when he was drunk, never leaving until he sobered.

She knew her background was humble—even if her family was clean, in this imperial city, alliances were everything. She could only stay silently by his side, as a confidante, a cherished companion. Pan Yueyang treated her differently from anyone else. Though she was a wet nurse’s child, her mother had brought her into the old general’s household, and since she was born the same day as Yueyang, they were raised together. She learned to read and write at his side, practiced martial arts with him, shared in his triumphs and hurts, and grew alongside him.

Over the years, the mark she left on his life became indelible. She fought beside him at the borders, joined him in daring raids, slowly weaving herself into the fabric of his existence. Yet she never truly understood his feelings for her. Many times, she wanted to say, "Yueyang, I do not seek a title." But Pan Yueyang had never made his feelings clear, though he protected and cared for her more than anyone else. As a woman, she could sense that a chasm still lay between them. She lifted her chin, taking a deep breath. Perhaps Yueyang had not yet realized her place in his heart, so she would patiently wait, patiently teach him how to love her.

"Why so quiet?" Pan Yueyang asked, sensing the silent presence of Xueqing just behind him.

"Why didn’t you take me with you this time?" Xueqing plucked a white blossom and twirled it between her fingers.

"I told you, this time is very dangerous. Besides, they have planted many spies," Pan Yueyang said, halting and glancing back.

Xueqing continued toying with the flower, smiling serenely.

"I don’t want you to be in danger," he said simply, resuming his aimless stroll.

Behind him, Xueqing’s smile grew warmer. "Instead of summoning me, you sought me out personally. Why is that?" She knew him well—he would never seek her out just to stroll and chat.

He stopped and turned.

Looking at her radiant smile, he said, "This time the Emperor has issued an edict. The Tiandao Sect must be investigated to its very roots. They’ve stirred up bloodshed in the martial world, recruiting talent, while Tianfeng is amassing troops. These signs cannot be ignored. I fear Tianfeng is preparing to make a move."

"With you handling the matter, His Majesty can rest easy," Xueqing replied with quiet confidence.

"To tell you the truth, I met someone on my journey," he said, his voice tinged with worry.

"Oh?" Xueqing was intrigued.

"The Tiandao Sect moves in shadows, its master Zheng Tiandao is a legend. I crossed swords with him once—he’s my equal. Cunning, surrounded by formidable followers, even the righteous cannot withstand him." Pan Yueyang sighed.

"A hidden threat," Xueqing murmured.

"Yes, a threat. Until this man is eliminated, Panlong will never know peace." His brow knit tightly. "Xueqing, are you certain about this Wanwan...?"

"I am not," she replied.