Volume One, Chapter Nine: Call Me Sister

“Truly an untrainable dog,” Sima Yun said, pressing her foot firmly onto Liu Qi’s head and grinding down hard several times.

Liu Qi pleaded, “My lady, forgive my indiscretion. Please do not hold my words against me…”

“Heh, boy, if Yang Yuqi’s words carry weight, does that mean mine don’t? Are you determined to be Yang Yuqi’s lapdog?” Sima Yun hissed through clenched teeth.

Only then did Liu Qi realize where he had gone wrong.

Earlier, Sima Yun had said she would inform Yang Yuqi to come directly to the camp once he regained consciousness. By doing so, she was signaling to both Liu Qi and Yang Yuqi that her words held more authority than Yang Yuqi’s.

Yet Liu Qi’s suggestion to report to Yang Yuqi implied, albeit unintentionally, that Sima Yun’s commands were less effective.

Originally, Sima Yun intended to take Liu Qi to meet Prince Qi, aiming to cultivate him as an ally—perhaps even as a favored consort.

She was aware of Liu Qi’s morning ordeal but chose not to intervene. This not only reinforced to Yang Yuqi that Sima Yun’s influence was stronger but also seeded resentment in Liu Qi toward Yang Yuqi due to the deputy general Guan’s harassment.

In essence, Sima Yun was using Liu Qi as a warning to Yang Yuqi, while simultaneously considering taking Liu Qi under her wing.

But Liu Qi’s words had directly contradicted her intentions, provoking her fury.

Understanding the full context, Liu Qi grew anxious and frantically searched for a way out.

Suddenly struck by a flash of insight, he quickly explained, “My lady, in my heart, your orders come first. But… Yang Yuqi stationed guards on us. Though I said it was your command that brought me here, Deputy General Guan disregarded my words entirely and even mocked you. I was so angered that I wanted to confront Yang Yuqi’s camp to seek justice on your behalf, which is why I spoke as I did.”

Upon hearing this, Liu Qi felt the foot pressing on his head lighten—his words had taken effect.

Indeed, whether high or low, everyone enjoys hearing flattering words and being cajoled, especially women.

Encouraged, Liu Qi continued, “What I meant earlier was not to seek Yang Yuqi’s approval, but to restore your honor.”

Sima Yun looked down at Liu Qi kneeling before her, a slight smile curling at her lips as she withdrew her foot.

Liu Qi sighed in relief, exhaling deeply.

Sima Yun helped him up and gently brushed the dust from his face, her voice tender, “Little lord, did I hurt you? Let me see.”

Liu Qi replied, “My lady, I am not hurt. As long as you do not misunderstand me, I bear no pain.”

“And if I do misunderstand?” Sima Yun asked softly.

“Then my heart would be torn asunder,” Liu Qi said.

A playful smirk lifted Sima Yun’s lips as she gently lifted Liu Qi’s chin. “You slippery talker, but I like that. From now on, don’t call me ‘my lady’ anymore.”

“How shall I address you then?” Liu Qi inquired.

“I am older than you. Just call me ‘sister,’” Sima Yun said.

At these words, a quiet joy swelled within Liu Qi. From kneeling at the start, to no longer needing to do so, and now changing the form of address—all signaled one thing: Liu Qi had earned a measure of trust from Sima Yun.

This was a vital shift for him. Though still officially a slave, his treatment by Sima Yun now set him apart from mere servants.

With a little more effort, Liu Qi could soon shed his slave status entirely.

Sima Yun led Liu Qi into the silk tent. Her slender, jade-like fingers pinched a delicate, gossamer-thin silk garment, slipping it down slowly. The fabric cascaded like flowing water, revealing her fair and graceful form.

She wore not the traditional bellyband undergarment, but scant clothing of the barbarian tribes.

Though shockingly indecent in design, it struck a deep chord within Liu Qi.

“Come, help your sister undress,” Sima Yun said, placing Liu Qi’s hand upon her.

Breath coming in heavy pants, Liu Qi obeyed, beginning to loosen her garments.

But the barbarian style was unfamiliar, and Liu Qi did not know how to undo it.

Sima Yun let out a coquettish laugh, guiding his hands and, in turn, slipping off his clothes as well.

She sat down on the bed and reclined slowly. Liu Qi followed, and soon warmth enveloped them—the harmony of dragon and phoenix, night after night of shared delight.

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“My little lord, the march is about to begin. Will you stay in my tent or go to Yang Yuqi’s?” Sima Yun asked softly.

Though now appearing delicate and charming, Liu Qi knew well her mercurial nature. Even after satisfying her, he dared not relax and chose his words carefully.

“Wherever sister wishes me to be, I shall be,” Liu Qi answered.

Sima Yun smiled, hooking her arm around his neck and trapping his waist between her legs. “Aren’t you afraid Yang Yuqi will kill you?”

Liu Qi replied, “My life belongs to you, sister. What care have I for her?”

Her laughter was wild and carefree, a perfect delight.

A woman adorns herself for the one who delights her. Seeing Liu Qi so deeply captivated, Sima Yun’s vanity swelled with satisfaction.

Yet on the other side, Yang Yuqi’s mood was far less pleasant.

Within Yang Yuqi’s tent, a slave was kicked from the bed.

The slave knelt frantically, banging his head on the ground, begging for mercy.

Yang Yuqi emerged from her silk tent, fastening her belt and straightening her clothes, her voice cold: “Useless wretch, drag him out and behead him.”

“Please, my lady! Spare me!” the slave begged, but death was certain.

Yang Yuqi sat at the desk, poured a cup of wine, and after a sip, irritatedly smashed the cup on the floor.

“Deputy General Guan!” she called out toward the entrance.

Deputy General Guan entered, kneeling to report, “At your service, my lady.”

“Where is Liu Qi?” Yang Yuqi asked angrily.

Guan hesitated. “Didn’t you send him to Lady Sima’s camp?”

Yang Yuqi pressed her temple, overwhelmed by vexation and momentarily forgetting.

She had never regarded Liu Qi as anything more than a slave—a dog in her eyes. If Sima Yun wanted him, she could just give him away.

But now that Liu Qi had truly gone, Yang Yuqi was increasingly agitated, taking out her frustrations on the male slaves, none of whom proved any use.

“Bring him back to me, by any means necessary!” Yang Yuqi commanded angrily.

“General, isn’t the army about to march?” Guan asked, bewildered.

Yang Yuqi shot him a glare.

“Yes, ma’am!” Guan corrected immediately and turned to leave.

“Wait!” Yang Yuqi suddenly called out again.

Guan stopped.

Taking a deep breath, Yang Yuqi amended, “Don’t actually kill him.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Guan replied, leaving the tent.

Yang Yuqi stood and paced restlessly inside, her mind a storm of frustration.