Chapter 121 -
Li Mei stood frozen in the bitter northern wind, watching Wenzhe carry Yueqing into his command tent. Her delicate hands clutched her cream silk sleeves so tightly her knuckles turned white, her chest burning with complete agony and bitter jealousy.
He hadn’t even acknowledged her. Not a single glance, not a word of concern after her long, exhausting trek with the rear guard. All his attention, his warmth, and even his heavy fur cloak had been lavished entirely on Su Yueqing.
"Miss Li," a voice called out, cutting sharply through her spiraling rage.
Li Mei forced her expression to smooth out, turning around to see Dong Li walking toward her with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked down at her simple yet elegant cream hanfu and her loose hair, his brow furrowing with obvious disapproval.
"You should head to the servants’ tent at the back of the camp and change into standard maid attire immediately," Dong Li said, his tone dry and strictly professional. "You don’t look like you’re here to serve anyone in that outfit. It would be best to get dressed properly so the Young Madam doesn’t get on your bad side if she sees you like this."
Li Mei felt a spike of humiliation hit her chest. She lowered her head, hiding the sharp, resentful glint in her eyes, and gave a stiff, submissive nod.
"Understood," she murmured softly, her voice carrying a fragile, wounded tremor.
She turned on her heel and walked away toward the maid tents, her steps swift and rigid with suppressed anger.
Dong Li watched her retreating back, shaking his head with a quiet sigh. From the very beginning, he had never liked Li Mei. She always put on a weak, innocent facade, yet her timing was always too convenient, her motives too cloudy.
The Young Madam, Su Yueqing, was certainly loud, dramatic, and borderline unhinged at times, but she was transparent. What you saw was what you got. She didn’t hide her tantrums behind soft tears or sweet smiles. Li Mei, on the other hand, was quietly calculating and Dong Li had seen far too many cunning snakes on the battlefield to be fooled by a pretty face in cream silk.
Meanwhile, inside the spacious main tent, the warmth from the burning charcoal stove washed over them instantly.
Su Yueqing didn’t wait even a second longer. The moment they cleared the heavy tent flap, she squirmed frantically in his grip and delivered a firm slap straight against Wenzhe’s shoulder.
"Put me down!" she hissed, her face burning.
Wenzhe finally obliged, carefully setting her down on her feet near the low tea table. But instead of returning to his usual cold, stern demeanor, he just stood there looking down at her, a broad, ridiculous grin stretching across his handsome face looking for all the world like a big, foolishly happy puppy.
Yueqing took a sharp step back, staring at him in utter disbelief and deep cringe.
[Ew! What is that face?!] her inner voice shrieked, her mental persona retreating into a corner with horror. [Why is he looking at me like I am a bowl of fresh meat?! Where is the brooding, scary male lead who hates my guts?! I came here expecting him to glare at me, demand to know why I left the capital, or order me to go back home! Why does he look like he just won the national lottery?! It is deeply disturbing!]
Outwardly, Yueqing raised a trembling, indignant finger, pointing it straight at his nose as she tried to reassert her terrifying villainess dominance.
"Stop smiling," Yueqing threatened, her voice high and sharp as she tried to cover her awkward embarrassment. "Don’t smile, or I’ll knock your teeth off!"
Wenzhe’s smile snapped shut instantly. He cleared his throat with an awkward, heavy cough, adjusting the thick leather cuffs of his armor to hide his slight embarrassment.
"Right," Wenzhe said, forcing his voice back into its usual deep, authoritative tone. "Anyway... make yourself comfortable. You will be staying here in my command tent. The camp is unpredictable, and it is far safer for you to remain under my direct supervision."
Yueqing’s jaw dropped.
"Stay here?!" she shrieked, her voice pitching up two octaves. "With you?! Absolutely not! I am a married woman of proper virtue! I require my own private quarters, my own space, and my own luxury bed! I will not sleep in the same room as a savage military officer who smells like cold iron and horse feed!"
[ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!] Yueqing’s mental persona was currently throwing chairs at the walls of her brain. [Sleep in the same tent as the Male Lead?! On the front lines?! Do you want me to get assassinated in my sleep by your enemies?! Or worse, what if you try to initiate romantic subplot dialogue while I am trying to snore?! I would rather sleep in a horse stall!]
Wenzhe’s jaw tightened as he tried to stand his ground. "Yueqing, this is a war zone, not the capital estate. I cannot spare a full shadow squad to guard a separate tent in the middle of a border camp!"
"Then assign half a squad! Or three guards! Or build me a wooden fence!" Yueqing crossed her arms, her chin held so high she was practically staring at the tent ceiling. "I am the Young Madam of the Xi family! If word gets back to the capital that you forced me to sleep on a thin soldier’s cot like a common foot soldier, Her Grace will personally travel here and pull your ears!"
The two of them went back and forth, arguing furiously over tent space, privacy, and proper luxury standards. Yueqing refused to back down an inch, bringing up everything from her delicate back to his mother’s imminent wrath, until Wenzhe finally threw his hands up in absolute defeat.
"Fine!" Wenzhe exhaled sharply, rubbing the bridge of his nose in utter exhaustion. "Fine. Have it your way. I will have the guards clear out the adjacent tent and set up a proper stove and bed for you. Just... stay put and do not cause any trouble."
"Hmph! As if I am the one who causes trouble!" Yueqing sniffed, turning her back on him with a dramatic swish of her heavy fur cloak. "Now get out of my sight, you unrefined brute. Watching your face makes my headache worse."
[Victory for Su Yueqing!] her mind cheered, her inner persona doing a high-kicking victory dance. [Never underestimate a pampered villainess who refuses to share a room! Now go away so I can steal your heated stove!]
Wenzhe’s lips twitched, a faint smirk threatening to break through his serious expression again. He opened his mouth to give her one last warning—
"General Xi!" a guard shouted urgently from just outside the heavy canvas flap. "Apologies for the interruption, but Sir Dong Li has an urgent report regarding the northern scouts! It is critical!"
Wenzhe’s posture straightened instantly, the playfulness vanishing from his eyes as his commander instinct kicked in. He threw one final, lingering look at Yueqing’s stubborn back, adjusted his cloak, and stepped out into the biting northern wind