Chapter 83: Friend, Not Foe

Inside the inn, Yang Lian set Mi Shiwei down, throwing her onto the soft couch while gasping for breath.

"You're too fat; you need to lose weight." Yang Lian rubbed his arms. Running several miles while carefully avoiding patrolling soldiers had been anything but easy.

Mi Shiwei frowned. She was furious at the careless way he had tossed her aside. "How could you be so rude?" But she was helpless. When she had fallen earlier, she had sprained her ankle, and the subsequent struggle with Yang Lian had only worsened the injury. She could barely move; had Yang Lian not carried her back, she would surely have been captured by the patrols. Thinking of this, she felt both frustrated and angry—why did nothing good ever happen when she crossed paths with him?

Yang Lian rubbed his arms and poured himself a cup of tea. "I’m curious, what exactly were you doing at the Xiaoxiang Pavilion?"

Mi Shiwei refused to back down. "I’m curious too—why were you there?"

Yang Lian leaned in, observing her with a smile. "Let me guess: you know Zeng Yiling, and you two are quite close."

Mi Shiwei was stunned. "How did you..." She caught herself mid-sentence and asked guardedly, "What business is it of yours whether I know her or not?"

Yang Lian snorted. "It certainly is my business. She seems to know who I am." Since Mi Shiwei already knew his secret, there was no need for him to hide it.

Mi Shiwei looked surprised, but she shook her head to deny it. "I never told her."

Yang Lian clapped his hands and laughed. "So you two do know each other."

Mi Shiwei shot him a cold look. "What’s so strange about that? Years ago, when she was being hunted by the river, it was my master who saved her."

Yang Lian nodded, pacing slowly. "That makes sense. But I’m still curious what you were doing there tonight."

Mi Shiwei turned her head away, remaining silent while gently rubbing her ankle, which still ached.

Yang Lian walked outside and brought back a basin of cold well water. He soaked a cloth, wrung it out until it was damp, and walked over to her. "When you're injured, cold compresses are best. It’s a pity it isn't the season for ice, so this cold water will have to do."

Mi Shiwei frowned. "Who told you that? Go away. I don't need your help."

Yang Lian ignored her. He draped the cloth over his shoulder and suddenly reached out, grabbing her ankle.

"Ah! What are you doing?" Startled, Mi Shiwei tried to kick him, but with one foot held fast and the other still painful, she was powerless. Furious, she let out a sharp cry and swung a punch at him.

Yang Lian dodged to the side, caught her hand, and smiled. "I’m treating your injury. Why must you be like this?"

"How dare you insult me!" Mi Shiwei bit her lip. She could not believe that after only a year, Yang Lian had become so skilled and strong; she couldn't even fend him off.

"You misunderstand, miss. I only want to prevent your injury from worsening." Yang Lian smiled and unceremoniously removed the silk sock from her foot. Her foot was pale, with toes as translucent and beautiful as if carved from jade.

However, a faint red bruise circled her ankle. Yang Lian pointed to it. "Look, it's sprained. If you don't treat it properly, you may have trouble walking in the future."

Only then did Mi Shiwei notice the swelling. Frightened by his words, her expression shifted. She looked at him anxiously. "Can it be healed?"

"Hard to say," Yang Lian replied, shaking his head.

Mi Shiwei hesitated. "What must I do to heal it?"

"If you behave and let me treat it, there's a chance." As Yang Lian spoke, he used the cloth to gently wipe her foot, applying the cold compress before lightly massaging it. Mi Shiwei bit her lip, wincing at the pain.

After he had applied the compress for a while, she felt much better. Yang Lian then brought warm water for her to wipe the sweat from her face. Once finished, he closed the door as he left. Mi Shiwei let out a sigh of relief. She felt uneasy in this strange place; as a woman, there were always things to worry about.

Suddenly, Yang Lian pushed the door open. "I’ll be right outside. Call if you need anything."

Mi Shiwei jumped, then gave a cold nod. "Go away. I don't need you here."

Yang Lian smiled faintly and closed the door again. He was too tired to wonder why she had come; if she wanted to tell him, she would.

The next morning, while Yang Lian was exercising, he saw Mi Shiwei walking slowly in the courtyard. He stopped. "You can walk?"

She nodded, her opinion of him softening slightly. Though he could be rude in his words and actions, he hadn't taken advantage of her when she was vulnerable. She had already decided that if he made any improper moves, she would kill him. But he had acted like a gentleman, doing nothing but treating her injury.

After she nodded, she watched him run off. She was curious—was this how he trained every single day for the past year? She waited for half an hour until he returned, drenched in sweat. He removed his sandbags and fetched cold water to wash. Mi Shiwei turned away when he began to undress, thinking, *How could he be so shameless in front of me?* She didn't realize that for Yang Lian, this was just a habit.

After washing, he brought back buns and porridge from the inn. Seeing her sit at the table, he smiled. "Did you sleep well last night?"

Mi Shiwei nodded, then teased, "It was fine, though your soft couch still smells of sweat."

Yang Lian scratched his head. "Really? I'll have the bedding changed."

She shook her head. "Don't bother. I'm leaving today."

Yang Lian said nothing, placing the porridge and buns before her. "Eat up. I have to go to the barracks later."

Mi Shiwei grabbed a bun and ate slowly. It was soft, white, and sweet. The porridge was thick and flavorful, cooked with lean meat. To her own surprise, she ended up eating three buns and a large bowl of porridge.

When he finished his meal, Yang Lian asked, "Are you going to the Xiaoxiang Pavilion? Shall I give you a lift?"

"How?" she asked.

"By horse." He led out a tall, sturdy steed from the courtyard. Such horses were rare in the south, and he cherished it.

Mi Shiwei took one look and shook her head. "No, thanks."

Yang Lian led the warhorse closer, looking at her pretty face, and stepped into her personal space. Mi Shiwei retreated in alarm until her back hit the wall. Yang Lian dropped the reins and stepped closer, the distance so small they could hear each other’s breathing.

"When you see Zeng Yiling, feel free to tell her that I am the Yang Lian she's looking for," he said.

Mi Shiwei blinked, then shook her head. "That would do me no good. I came to tell her that someone is already suspicious of her identity."

"Who exactly is Zeng Yiling?" Yang Lian asked. He had pondered this for a long time but had no clues.

Mi Shiwei shook her head. "First, I don't know her true identity; I only help her because I promised to handle a few things for her. Second, even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you."

Yang Lian had only asked in passing, knowing she wouldn't reveal it easily. He smiled and left.

As he walked away, Mi Shiwei felt a pang of hesitation. She called out, "Yang Lian! You said last night she seems to know your identity—don't worry. I can tell you that if she truly knows who you are, she won't harm you; she will help you."

Yang Lian turned back, looking puzzled. "Truly?"

"Truly," she replied.

Yang Lian gave a faint smile and strode out of the house. Arriving at the barracks, he set aside his doubts and began training his troops. He knew that while real combat was the only way to forge true veterans, daily discipline was indispensable.

At the end of the day, as he returned to the inn, the waiter, Xiao Erhei, greeted him. "Sir, a servant from Young Master Zhou delivered an invitation today."

*Zhou Ehuang,* Yang Lian thought. He took the invitation and read it. It was a message from Zhou Ehuang saying the hunt was set for three days later and hoping he would arrive on time. The handwriting was elegant and graceful.

Back in his room, Yang Lian wrote a reply for the servant to collect the next day. He had failed to accomplish his goal at the Xiaoxiang Pavilion the night before, but meeting Mi Shiwei had been an unexpected turn. He guessed that she might have mentioned something to Zeng Yiling, who would now be on her guard, so he decided to let the matter rest for now.

The next day, Mi Shiwei did not appear, nor did Zeng Yiling send anyone. It seemed Mi Shiwei had kept her silence. Yang Lian felt relieved; discovering Zeng Yiling's true identity was not an urgent matter, nor was it something he could force.

There were many things to prepare for the hunt in three days. While it seemed simple, Yang Lian knew it was an opportunity. Most of the attendees would be high-ranking officials from the capital or their heirs; he needed to build connections for his future. To succeed, he had to win power through gentle means internally and build his strength through military merit externally—a task he could not manage alone.

Since the fall of the Yang Wu dynasty, there must be those still loyal to the old regime. He needed to find them and gather them to his side to achieve great things.