An incense stick later, Jing Zhe struggled to escort Jiang Zhiyi to a private room on the third floor of the teahouse.

As the doors and windows closed, shutting out the waves of commotion from the street, it finally became quiet around them.

Jiang Zhiyi, holding onto Jing Zhe’s wrist, caught her breath. Looking up, she noticed a suspicious water droplet on her veiled hat’s gauze. Remembering the flying spit on the journey from the carriage to the teahouse, she felt dizzy and swayed.

Jing Zhe hurriedly steadied her, deftly removing her soiled veiled hat and cloak. She then covered the tables and chairs in the private room with clean velvet cloths, replaced the tea and teaware with her supplies, and helped Jiang Zhiyi sit down at a small table by the window.

After catching her breath, Jiang Zhiyi covered her nose with a silk handkerchief: “What incense are they burning? It reeks.”

The teahouse was already packed, and even this private room had just been vacated by several young gentlemen from noble families.

If those men hadn’t recognized Jiang Zhiyi and wished to curry favor, they might not have had anywhere to sit at all. Now they could only make do with what they had.

Jing Zhe quickly extinguished the male fragrance left by the previous customers: “Princess, shall we open the window to clear the smell?”

Either her ears would suffer with the window open or her nose would suffer with it closed—one way or another, something had to be compromised.

Jiang Zhiyi irritably waved her hand.

Jing Zhe turned to prop open the window, wondering how to pacify Jiang Zhiyi.

If today’s grand entrance had been made by any other general, the Princess might not have been so angry. But it just had to be the young master from the Shen family.

This young master Shen, relying on his father’s position as the Military Governor of Hexi, had always behaved carelessly and unrestrained in the capital, appearing lackadaisical wherever he went.

The Princess already disliked such “rebellious types,” and ever since they had fallen out over a cricket, the two had been like fire and water.

Whenever they met, one would coldly mock, the other would hotly ridicule. At the slightest disagreement, one would flick her sleeve and get into her sedan chair, the other would flip his robe and mount his horse—neither giving an inch.

On one side was imperial nobility, on the other a family commanding significant military force. Onlookers dared not intervene to make peace, and over time everyone learned their lesson—if a household wanted to hold a peaceful banquet, they should remember one point: if Jiang is present, Shen is absent; if Shen is present, Jiang is absent.

This competition had continued for a long time until war suddenly erupted in Hexi, bringing the tragic news of the death of Military Governor Shen.

Young Master Shen, following imperial orders, rushed to the front lines and was gone for three years.

During these three years, with one at the southern end of the sky and the other at the northern end of the earth, they had finally been at peace.

But it seemed as if this Young Master Shen was born to vex their Princess—now, having just returned to the capital, before even setting foot inside the city gates, he had already blocked the Princess’s path!

“Hey, do you think Princess Yongying also came to welcome Shen Yuance?” A young male voice came through the propped-open window—it was the group of young gentlemen who had vacated the private room, engaging in spirited discussion next door.

Jiang Zhiyi, who had just picked up a teacup, paused and tilted her head toward Jing Zhe.

Jing Zhe: “What nonsense are these people talking about? I’ll go right away…”

“How could that be possible! Didn’t they used to hate each other enough to kill each other? Besides, with the Princess’s status, how could Shen Yuance be worthy?” A louder male voice immediately objected.

Jiang Zhiyi let go of the breath she’d been holding and gestured to Jing Zhe to remain calm, slowly bringing the teacup to her lips.

“But things are different now! Look at the scene downstairs. Has the Princess’s flower carriage parade ever had such a spectacle?”

Jiang Zhiyi: “…”

“So why does Shen Yuance deserve such a grand welcome?”

“Haven’t you heard how he led five thousand troops to defeat eighty thousand elite northern forces, frightening the old king of Beiting into sending a surrender letter overnight?”

Jiang Zhiyi slightly turned her ear toward the window.

During these years, she had lived with her ears closed to outside matters, and those around her had been sensible enough never to mention Shen Yuance in her presence. What Shen Yuance had done in Hexi was something she truly hadn’t paid any attention to.

She only knew that when Imperial Uncle initially sent him to Hexi, it was to have him, as the Military Governor’s only son, appear at the front lines to stabilize morale. In plain terms, he was meant to be a figurehead. Who would have expected him to follow in his father’s footsteps, commanding troops in battle?

Later, when he remained in Hexi, she assumed he was just following his father’s old subordinates, continuing his life as a military wastrel.

But hearing this now, it seemed this person had somehow become a great hero who had saved Hexi from disaster?

Jiang Zhiyi would sooner believe pigs could climb trees than trust Shen Yuance to be reliable.

“Surely you’re exaggerating! Shen Yuance isn’t some divine immortal. Eighty thousand men? One mouthful of spit from each could drown him. What counterattack?”

Jiang Zhiyi nodded as she rotated the teacup in her hand.

“Actually, you’re half right. My father saw that battle report with his own eyes. At the time, our five thousand troops were surrounded, with reinforcements tens of thousands of miles away. It was Shen Yuance who led the troops to break through the encirclement.”

“Th-then what part was I right about?”

“You’re right that it wasn’t just a counterattack. My father said Shen Yuance had planned to destroy these eighty thousand elite troops from the beginning. He used himself as bait to set a trap! They say the fighting lasted a day and a night, and the river flowed with nothing but blood.”

“So many people killed in just a day and a night?”

“I think he first used some method to cause a great flood…”

“This is why you should read more books. Don’t you know? It’s called damming the river to drown the enemy.”

“But Shen Yuance doesn’t read books either. How did he know these strategies?”

Jiang Zhiyi put down her teacup and frowned.

How did Shen Yuance know? She didn’t know. But what was strange was—how did she seem to know these strategies too?

“Don’t you think—” Jiang Zhiyi looked at Jing Zhe, “this story sounds familiar?”

Jing Zhe nodded and took out “The Tale of Yiyi” from her sleeve: “It seems to be written in this novel…”

Jiang Zhiyi blinked, accepting the novel with uncertainty, turning to the male protagonist’s military achievements and scanning it rapidly—

He used himself as bait to dam the river and drown the enemy.

Charging into the enemy camp alone on horseback.

Traveling a thousand miles to take the enemy general’s head.

Entering Beiting alone.

“So,” the male voice next door resumed, “the rumors about Shen Yuance charging into the enemy camp alone, traveling a thousand miles to take the enemy general’s head, and entering Beiting alone—they’re all true?”

“…”

Jiang Zhiyi slowly raised her head and exchanged a glance with Jing Zhe.

Jing Zhe: “Princess, could it be that the novel has come to life again?”

Jiang Zhiyi raised her hand to stop her, expressionlessly closing the novel. She sat quietly for a moment, took a deep breath, and slowly opened it again.

The white paper was still the same white paper, the black text the same black text.

Jiang Zhiyi lowered her eyelashes, staring at the four characters “Brother A-Ce” in the novel, frozen at the table.

It wasn’t the novel coming to life.

It must be that the Hexi battles happened first, and the novel was written afterward. So it wasn’t that events from the novel were coming true; rather, this novel had originally borrowed Shen Yuance’s exploits as a “template.”

The male protagonist of “The Tale of Yiyi” was based on Shen Yuance.

…How could it be based on Shen Yuance?

Jiang Zhiyi incredulously flipped through the entire book back and forth, then front to back, reading it through once more, but still couldn’t see any resemblance between this “Brother A-Ce”—a man of solitary bravery and decisive action, whose name struck fear into the enemy’s hearts on the battlefield with its reputation for mad ferocity—and the Shen Yuance who had jumped up and down over a cricket with her.

“In these three years, the four corners of the city lost a graceful young man in fine clothes astride a spirited horse, while the banks of the Weak Water gained a peerless war god standing with sword drawn on horseback.”

—Such flowery prose, such brilliant writing, so utterly estranged from reality, completely unrecognizable.

This wasn’t using someone as a template for a novel; this was sending someone to be reborn!

Had she recognized earlier that this “Ce” was that “Ce,” would she have given it so much attention…?

When Gu Yu arrived late with the fox in her arms, she found Jiang Zhiyi looking as if she had swallowed a fly, tightly clutching a novel until her knuckles turned white.

“Princess, let’s not take offense at this novel. Be careful not to hurt your hand,” Jing Zhe advised, stepping forward.

Gu Yu also tried to comfort her: “This servant just took a turn downstairs. The Imperial Guards are already clearing the way. The road should be passable before long.”

Jiang Zhiyi didn’t make a sound.

Gu Yu could only retreat to the window with the sleeping fox, continuing to look down.

The scraping of armor and weapons echoed below, Imperial Guards holding ceremonial halberds parted the crowd to both sides of the road.

The people lining the road stood on tiptoes, necks stretched, gazing toward the city gate.

In the severe winter cold, the noisy air seemed to ripple with waves of heat.

Amid the clamor, thunderous hoofbeats suddenly sounded. A line of black figures approached rapidly with the force of a landslide, a cavalry troop galloping majestically forward.

The mounted warriors wore black armor, held silver spears, and gazed straight ahead with strict military bearing, each full of vigor. Especially the one escorted in their midst—

A tall young man sat high on a gleaming black warhorse. His raven hair was bound high with a black crown, his feet in tall boots, a blue-green sword at his waist, his military attire dazzlingly magnificent.

The same black armor with a touch of crimson made others appear solemn, but on him, that hint of crimson seemed to leap out, making him appear even more brilliant than the fluttering banners.

With just a glance, all the flower branches in the street found their destination.

From the third floor, Gu Yu could only see dark heads and couldn’t make out the rider’s appearance. Curious, she leaned half her body out the window. Just then, the fox in her arms suddenly rolled over in its sleep and tumbled down!

“Ah—” A scream followed by “Meow—” Another scream as Jiang Zhiyi turned with a start and hurriedly rose to look out the window.

The plump golden cat fell from a great height, its fur puffing out in all directions in the wind, about to become a flattened meat patty.

Suddenly, a silver flash—the young man on horseback drew out a spear from a soldier beside him with a backward motion. With a flick of his wrist, the spear swept through the air in a phantom arc, tilting upward.

The morning sun blazed brilliantly, its golden rays concentrated on the spear’s sharp point.

The cat landed on the spear shaft, its belly sliding along the shaft to the end, its four paws clinging desperately to the young man’s hand.

The horse’s hooves rose high and then fell with a swish as the rows of cavalry uniformly reined in their horses.

The crowd fell silent for a moment before erupting in a tidal wave of cheers.

“What skilled spear work!”

“Heavens, a hero rescuing a cat—”

“Mother, look! It’s a little immortal cat dropped by a celestial maiden!”

Everyone looked up, along with the young man on horseback.

At the small window on the third floor, a young woman’s figure swayed gracefully as she leaned out. She wore an apricot-white short jacket above and a pomegranate-red pleated skirt below. Her hair was styled in a lily bun with golden ornaments swaying at each step. A plum blossom mark adorned the center of her forehead, as brilliantly beautiful as morning glow reflected on snow. Beneath her graceful, long eyebrows, a pair of water-apricot eyes filled with surprise gazed steadily at the young man on horseback.

A bewitching breeze blew past. The young woman’s bright eyes blinked, as if scattering the morning sun, casting down a gentle spring radiance.

The onlookers’ mouths gaped in admiration.

In the third-floor private room, Jiang Zhiyi examined the man she hadn’t seen for three years, squinting hesitantly.

The rider’s splendid and heroic armor, combined with his tall stature, broad shoulders, and narrow waist, bore no resemblance to his former lazy-boned appearance that looked ready to collapse at any moment.

His features had visibly matured. Compared to his former red lips and white teeth, he now had more sharply defined angles, a rugged handsomeness, and the intimidating presence of sword-like eyebrows and star-like eyes.

If it weren’t for the same face, this person with his spear skills and bearing would have nothing in common with the Shen Yuance in her memory…

Jiang Zhiyi’s hesitant gaze slowly scanned down from that face, settling on the blue-green sword at the horseman’s waist. She blinked thoughtfully.

Behind her, Gu Yu rushed out with a pale face: “This servant will go retrieve it right away…”

“Wait—” Jiang Zhiyi stared intently at that sword, beckoning twice with her hand.

Gu Yu leaned in to listen, nodded a moment later, and hurried out of the teahouse. She ran to the young man and held out her hands for the cat: “Thank you, General, for your timely rescue! You’ve saved my mistress’s beloved pet. My mistress would like to invite you upstairs for tea to express her gratitude.”

“It was nothing, no need,” Yuance tossed back the spear and lifted the cat that was clinging desperately to his hand. He raised his hand to signal the procession to continue.

“After three years of war, you’ve learned to put on airs. General Shen certainly has developed quite the dignified manner.”

Like a fine pipa plucking out a resonant string note, a clear female voice full of pride rang in his ears.

Yuance lifted his eyelids to meet a pair of eyes filled with haughtiness.

Jiang Zhiyi: “Even declining a cup of tea—could it be that Young General Shen is still dwelling on events from three years ago?”

The bustling street instantly fell silent.

Men and women, young and old, all around pricked up their ears, holding their breath.

Jiang Zhiyi stood by the window, eyes downcast, nonchalantly playing with her sleeve cuff: “I thought Young General Shen would have matured somewhat in his years away, but how is it he’s still living in the past? That old, trivial matter—I’ve long since forgotten it. Is Young General Shen so petty?”

Yuance pulled the reins to turn his horse around, about to speak—

“Or perhaps…” Jiang Zhiyi raised her pointed chin slightly, saying amusedly, “You’re afraid I might poison your tea?”

Yuance raised an eyebrow: “If you wanted to poison me, you wouldn’t do it in public. There’s certainly nothing wrong with the tea.”

Jiang Zhiyi smiled confidently, certain of victory.

“However, I’ve been wanting to ask—” Yuance narrowed his eyes, lifting his head as if trying to discern something. “May I ask who you are?”