Chapter Seventy-Nine: Different Women

With her eyes half-closed, Lu Liao reclined lazily on the bamboo couch, idly surveying the summer hall where Lu Jiu had taken refuge from the heat. On either side of the hall, tall pines and slender bamboo cast dense shadows, shielding the place from the sun. Directly ahead, a verdant pond shimmered, its surface adorned with countless red and white lotus blossoms vying for splendor. A gentle breeze carried their fragrance through the hall, making the oppressive summer heat seem forgotten here.

Qing’er held a fan and waved it slowly at the large blocks of ice on the table in the hall, occasionally shooting resentful glances at Lu Liao, who seemed almost asleep on the bamboo couch. The young mistress had called him to discuss matters, but while she worked at her desk, sweat pouring from her brow, he lounged carelessly, half-dozing.

“Damn Zhang Qiantuo!” Lu Jiu, unable to contain her anger, flung a dossier to the floor.

“He’s already dead,” Lu Liao murmured, her eyes still half-closed.

Lu Jiu glared at her in frustration. “The Nanzhao has rebelled, the southwestern trade routes are cut off, and several caravans are trapped in Nanzhao, unable to return. The merchants' guild is suffering heavy losses. What are we to do now?”

“The mighty king of Nanzhao, his wife and daughter taken by a mere governor of Yunnan, extorted for bribes and falsely accused of treason—how could he not rebel?” Lu Liao’s lips curled in mocking amusement.

“I’m asking what I should do now!” Lu Jiu snapped.

“If you don’t unravel the threads behind all this, don’t act blindly,” Lu Liao replied lazily.

Lu Jiu’s brows shot up as she stared at Lu Liao.

Lu Liao quickly sat upright, took out a folding fan, and waved it gently. “Do you really think Zhang Qiantuo, a mere governor of Yunnan, had the courage to commit such atrocity, forcing a vassal kingdom of the Tang to revolt? Even the sword-wielding military governor Xianyu Zhongtong likely wouldn’t dare such reckless abandon.”

Lu Jiu folded her arms, her expression uncertain. “Are you suggesting Zhang Qiantuo was backed by Yang Zhao of the Ministry of War?”

“The imperial consort’s favor has recently soared, and Yang Zhao wields great power. Yet over him looms Lord Li Linfu, the prime minister, who firmly controls the court. Censor Ji Wen defected from Li to Yang, then moved against Song Hun and Xiao Jiong, cutting off some of Li’s faction in court. But Yang Zhao’s influence still can’t compare to Li Linfu’s, lacking support from the military.”

Lu Liao lifted a glass of wine, its color deep as blood, swirling it gently before sighing. “So you suspect Yang Zhao fostered Xianyu Zhongtong’s military ambitions, deliberately provoking Nanzhao’s king, Geluofeng, into rebellion?”

Lu Jiu stared at Lu Liao in disbelief. “The northern and western border commands are mostly led by Li Linfu’s favored foreign generals. Yang Zhao’s reach extends only to the weak southwestern kingdom of Nanzhao. Still, this is just speculation, nothing certain,” Lu Liao shook her head softly.

“What if it’s true?” Lu Jiu’s beautiful eyes remained fixed on Lu Liao.

“If it is, then the Sword Gate military governor will prepare the troops, and by next spring they’ll attack Nanzhao,” Lu Liao replied, hands cradling her head as she leaned back on the bamboo couch.

Lu Jiu’s pale fingers started tapping rapidly on her arm. “It seems we must not only consider what opportunities and gains the merchants' guild can secure in this war, but also how to rebuild the trade routes afterward.”

“Have you ever thought how many soldiers and common folk perish senselessly, all because those high and mighty crave power?” Lu Liao said, her voice tinged with indignation.

“That’s beyond our control and not ours to worry about. You’ve read enough history—haven’t you seen enough of such things?” Lu Jiu waved her hand impatiently.

Lu Liao was left speechless, stifled by that retort, unable to argue back. She fell silent for a time.

Seeing Lu Jiu still deep in thought, Lu Liao couldn’t help but add, “Have you considered what will happen if Xianyu Zhongtong fails?”

“Our Tang armies are unmatched, how could they possibly lose to little Nanzhao?” Lu Jiu replied with disdain.

“Military strategy says: grieving soldiers win, arrogant soldiers lose. Of course, I’m just stating the obvious,” Lu Liao shook her head, knowing full well that failure for the Tang army seemed impossible.

“Lu Liao, I find you’ve returned to Chang’an with a despondent spirit, like a different person,” Lu Jiu said, somewhat displeased.

“Have I?” Lu Liao spread her hands dramatically.

Lu Jiu laughed coldly. “Is it because you missed this spring’s imperial examination, delaying your official career and blaming me? Do you think I, Lu Jiu, am obsessed with wealth while you are pure-hearted, caring for the people?”

“Nonsense!” Lu Liao dismissed her with a wave of her sleeve.

“Yes! I’m just a merchant’s daughter—how could I matter in your eyes? Lu Liao, you’re too arrogant! You think only you worry for the nation’s well-being, while all officials are useless fools fighting over power. If you have the ability, be like Prime Minister Li Linfu and rule the empire for sixteen years!”

“You think I can’t?” Lu Liao retorted, both furious and embarrassed.

“You get discouraged at the first setback, blaming fate—do you really think you can?” Lu Jiu shot back, coldly.

Lu Liao leapt up, glaring resentfully. “I possess the hidden teachings of the Ghost Valley. My only disadvantage is my youth. But being young is also my greatest strength. One day, I’ll rise high and let Wang Liuli see for herself!”

“You don’t know how to be grounded, always aiming too high. Whatever skills you claim, they’re nothing but empty words, like Zhao Kuo,” Lu Jiu sneered, her lips curling in disdain.

Lu Liao shook with rage, yet could find no retort. With a furious sweep of her sleeve, she stormed off.

She strode into Heavenly Immortal Tower, heading straight for the Flower Queen Ye Lai’s loft.

“Young master, Miss Ye Lai has been unwell due to the summer heat and hasn’t seen guests for over ten days,” a young maid said haughtily, blocking her path.

Ye Lai, famed as the Flower Queen, was now so renowned throughout the capital that she was no longer easily accessible. What nonsense, Lu Liao fumed, spun around, and left.

“Stop! You stop right there!” A young girl ran out of the loft, waving her handkerchief at Lu Liao.

Lu Liao saw it was Lan’er, wife of Xiao Ning, about fifteen or sixteen years old.

“This gentleman is the physician Miss invited to treat her illness. How could you chase him off without even asking?” Lan’er scolded the maid and ushered Lu Liao inside.

Just as he entered Ye Lai’s boudoir, his vision blurred as Ye Lai, light as a swallow, threw herself into his arms, clinging to him like an octopus.

Feeling the soft skin beneath the thin silk, breathing in her intoxicating scent, Lu Liao’s breath became heavy. Cradling the beauty in his arms, he headed straight for the fragrant couch.

Lan’er giggled, gently closing the chamber door.

Sweat-drenched, the two entwined lovers clung to each other, unwilling to part.

“You heartless thing, you’ve been back in Chang’an for over ten days and only now come to see me,” Ye Lai complained, tapping Lu Liao’s forehead.

“So you’ve been sick from the summer heat for ten days just to wait for me?” Lu Liao asked, deeply moved.

“I really was ill, not just waiting for you, you heartless man,” Ye Lai replied, taking out a silk handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow.

“Is your illness better now?” Lu Liao asked, worriedly gazing at her flushed cheeks.

“After sweating so much, of course I’m better,” Ye Lai replied, her eyes seductive, smiling slyly.

Lu Liao cupped her face and kissed her gently. “Then let’s sweat a little more, so you’ll recover faster,” he teased.

Ye Lai pushed away his wandering hands, tilting her head. “Who upset you? You stormed up to my door with such a sour face.”

“That woman Wang Liuli—she looks down on me!” Lu Liao protested, cheeks puffed in indignation.

Ye Lai propped her cheek, smiling. “How did she look down on you?”

Lu Liao, embarrassed, recounted the whole exchange, then pointed at his nose, dissatisfied. “You tell me, how am I aiming too high? How am I like that armchair general Zhao Kuo?”

Ye Lai pinched his nose playfully, laughing oddly. “You come to me for comfort after being put out by Wang Liuli. But I think that formidable Miss Wang isn’t really looking down on you—she’s encouraging you.”

“Bah! Do I, Lu Liao, need encouragement from anyone? Do I?” he scoffed.

“I think Miss Wang Liuli treats you very specially. Why not marry her? Then our debts to her would be forgiven,” Ye Lai said, wide-eyed, tempting him.

“What! For some debts, you’d sell your own man?” Lu Liao cried, incredulous.

Ye Lai sneered. “I remember Qing’er saying that only her husband could call her Wang Liuli. Yet you’ve shouted her name so many times, and Lu Jiu has never objected. You’re not fooling anyone.”

“I did it on purpose! On purpose, alright?” Lu Liao protested, feeling wronged.

“Who knows?” Ye Lai giggled.