Chapter 137: The Contest Between Two Women

Xiahou Hui stepped down from the carriage gracefully, accompanied by two maids. Peng Xiaoyu bowed deeply at the door to greet her and was about to kneel, but Xiahou Hui gently caught her and smiled softly. “Enough. Though our statuses differ greatly, we share no master-servant bond. I know General Wei does not see you as an ordinary maid, so you need not perform such a formal courtesy.”

Peng Xiaoyu responded with a bow and began to lead Xiahou Hui inside. “May I ask the lady’s purpose for visiting today? My master has gone with the general to Meiwuwu. The household may be somewhat disorderly in his absence. I hope the lady will pardon any inconveniences.”

Xiahou Hui surveyed her surroundings as she followed Peng Xiaoyu forward. “My visit is nothing significant. It’s just that the princess gifted your general a few concubines—women who were once my uncle’s attendants. They are not mere strangers to me. I came to see if they are being well treated under General Wei.”

Peng Xiaoyu’s eyebrows twitched slightly before she forced a bitter smile and remained silent. Xiahou Hui took a seat in the main hall, while Peng Xiaoyu, acting as the interim lady of the house, remained nearby and summoned the three young beauties left behind to serve. Although they were treasured by Xiahou Mao, they were still servants in the presence of Xiahou Hui.

Xiahou Hui cast a glance at them and laughed lightly. “It seems General Wei’s heart belongs only to my uncle.”

Peng Xiaoyu bowed respectfully. “Miss Xiahou, my master is at a loss as to how to handle this situation. We earnestly seek your guidance.”

Xiahou Hui glanced at Peng Xiaoyu and pursed her lips. “Miss Peng, are you testing me?”

“Not at all. I simply do not know how to proceed and have no choice but to ask you.”

Xiahou Hui fell silent for a moment before sighing. “To be honest, I do not know how to handle it myself. I dislike these women who exist only to please with their beauty, yet as a woman, I understand they are often compelled by circumstances beyond their will.”

Peng Xiaoyu smiled faintly but said nothing. She had heard from Wei Ba about the tragic tale behind Xiahou Hui’s father, Xiahou Shang, who died prematurely due to a concubine. Xiahou Shang had been deeply fond of this concubine, but his primary wife—who was the wife of the great General Cao Zhen and mother to Xiahou Hui—was favored by Emperor Wen, Cao Pi, who decreed the concubine’s death. Though the concubine was gone, Xiahou Shang’s heart remained unsettled, and he soon fell ill and passed away.

No one could have foreseen such an outcome, revealing the genuine affection Xiahou Shang had for that concubine. Stories like this often evoke deep sorrow in others—Peng Xiaoyu had wept bitterly upon hearing it—but for those involved, like Xiahou Hui, the feelings were far more complex. Both her parents were victims of this tragic history.

It was because Peng Xiaoyu knew this secret that she responded as she did. She believed that having endured such pain, Xiahou Hui would not be as ruthless as Princess Qinghe, who might have wished to immediately dispose of those unfortunate women.

“Why are there only three? What about the other two?”

“The general sent them home to visit family,” Peng Xiaoyu replied calmly. “They probably won’t return for another month or so.”

Xiahou Hui acknowledged this with a faint reply and quickly changed the subject. “I heard General Wei invented a game. I am curious. Could you teach me?”

Peng Xiaoyu readily agreed and had the three young beauties bring out mahjong to instruct Xiahou Hui. Xiahou Hui, as intelligent as Peng Xiaoyu, quickly grasped the rules. After a few rounds, she pushed the tiles aside with a sigh. “Your general truly is a genius of calculation. Even the game he invented involves mathematics. Its endless variations will surely make it very popular.”

Peng Xiaoyu smiled. “If my master could hear your praise with his own ears, he would be immensely proud.”

“Is General Wei easily pleased?” Xiahou Hui blinked. “From what I see, he doesn’t seem like the sort to be proud just from a compliment.”

“Perhaps others’ praise means little, but from you, lady, he would certainly take great pride,” Peng Xiaoyu replied subtly. She sensed that Xiahou Hui’s visit was about more than simply checking on those women.

“Miss Peng, you flatter me,” Xiahou Hui rose. “Though you are nominally a maid, I know General Wei has never treated you as such. He even clashed with your brother for your sake. It shows the special place you hold in his heart.”

“My master treats his servants kindly, not just me alone.”

“Is that so?” Xiahou Hui took Peng Xiaoyu’s hand and smiled gently. “No wonder his loyal guard, Dunwu, remains steadfast by his side, even through exile.”

“Dunwu is his personal guard; naturally, he would do anything for him.”

A cold gleam appeared in Xiahou Hui’s eyes as her lips curled into a slight smile. She glanced around before continuing, “General Wei is kind to others, but unfortunately, he is not so merciful to you, Miss Peng.”

Peng Xiaoyu raised an eyebrow in caution but quickly masked it with calm. “Where does the lady get such an idea?”

“Simple.” Xiahou Hui stood and scanned the room, her smile vanishing. “He deliberately acquired property and acted as if he intended to settle long-term in Chang’an. In truth, it’s a guise to deceive others and prepare for his escape. Like the expensive furniture bought with great expense, you, an extraordinary maid, are nothing but a token to gain trust.”

Though Peng Xiaoyu strove to remain composed, under Xiahou Hui’s piercing gaze, her anxiety and unease betrayed her. She was clever and scheming, yet faced an adversary whose cunning and status surpassed her own. Since Wei Ba’s arrival in Chang’an, Xiahou Hui had harbored suspicions, but Wei Ba’s caution had left no flaws to exploit. Peng Xiaoyu arrived later and knew nothing of Wei Ba’s previous words or deeds, making her far less informed.

More importantly, Peng Xiaoyu harbored similar doubts in her heart. Wei Ba was hiding something from her. After much thought, she considered a possibility: Wei Ba was feigning surrender and did not want her, a Wei spy and sister to the leader, to know the truth. By keeping her close, he was not pardoning her betrayal but using her as bait—a distraction, as Xiahou Hui said, to facilitate his own escape.

What had been Peng Xiaoyu’s private suspicion without proof now became undeniable as Xiahou Hui voiced it openly. The guess she had refused to believe was now reality.

She had hoped to be strong enough to face this truth calmly, but she was not. A fleeting lapse was all it took for Xiahou Hui to catch her unraveling.

Xiahou Hui quietly exhaled in relief. In fact, she had far less certainty than Peng Xiaoyu imagined. Before entering, she had no concrete evidence; otherwise, she would have confronted Wei Ba directly instead of deceiving Peng Xiaoyu in his absence. Yet now, Peng Xiaoyu’s revealed crack confirmed her suspicion: Wei Ba was feigning surrender, and his goal was to approach Xiahou Mao.

This conclusion explained everything.

Rather than feeling triumphant, Xiahou Hui grew tense. Wei Ba was currently at Xiahou Mao’s side. If he meant harm, Xiahou Mao’s danger was imminent. Should Xiahou Mao die or lose Guanzhong, the Xiahou clan’s military power would suffer another devastating blow, and even her own life might be at risk.

Xiahou Hui sneered coldly and turned to leave.

Peng Xiaoyu slowly sat down, her face ashen.

Not long after, a squad of armored soldiers surrounded the mansion. Everyone inside, including Peng Xiaoyu, was arrested and thrown into the governor’s dungeon. The next morning, Xiahou Hui, escorted by twenty cavalrymen, rode swiftly out of Chang’an toward Meiwuwu.

...

News of the conscription of commoners to help defend the city stirred great unrest. The peasants who had participated in repairing the walls had hoped to return home for the autumn harvest, but now were compelled to stay and guard the city. After a year of hard labor, their crops would go unharvested, leaving their livelihoods in peril. They resisted in various ways, and petitioners came to Xiahou Mao one after another, overwhelming him with frustration.

Among them was a familiar figure to Wei Ba: Zhao Su.

After a furious outburst before Xiahou Mao, Zhao Su withdrew and gave Wei Ba a knowing glance from the corridor. Wei Ba nodded, excused himself to the side courtyard, and entered the latrine. There, he found Zhao Su squatting over a pit. Seeing Wei Ba, Zhao Su turned his head and motioned for him to squat in the neighboring stall. Wei Ba, feeling awkward, unbuckled his belt and squatted down. Zhao Su wasted no time complaining, “Wei Ziyu, what on earth are you up to? The chancellor has been at war for so long, and you haven’t contacted me?”

Wei Ba chuckled. “Gongpu, don’t be impatient. Let me explain slowly. Though there have been complications, what lies before us is an opportunity as good as it gets. It all depends on whether you have the courage.”

Zhao Su rolled his eyes and shook the belt hanging around his neck. “I say, Lord Wei, with my head tied to my belt like this, what’s left to fear?”

...

After a long talk with Wei Ba in the latrine, Zhao Su’s legs went numb. Limping, he left Meiwuwu, feeling utterly relieved. Just as he climbed into an ox cart, a cavalry squad thundered toward the city gate, kicking up a storm of dust like a roaring dragon. Quick-witted, Zhao Su covered his nose and mouth with his sleeve. Zhang Wen, slower to react, coughed violently.

“Who are these reckless fools? Mourning the dead?” Zhang Wen whispered, cursing softly.

Zhao Su grinned. “Indeed. They’re not far from death themselves.”

Zhang Wen glanced at him, suddenly alert, a strange flush coloring his face. “And?”

“And?” Zhao Su patted Zhang Wen’s shoulder and gave him a triumphant look. “You and I, two salted fish, finally have our chance to become dragons. Now it’s just a matter of whether we can leap over the Dragon Gate.”

(To be continued)