Chen Baoxiang watched the carriage disappear into the distance. The smile on her face faded away bit by bit.
She hurried back to take stock of the money and properties in her possession, then summoned Wang Wu to make arrangements for the two hundred or so armed constables under her command. This way, even if something happened to her, these people would still have a way to survive.
Would Zhang Zhixu show her mercy out of sentiment?
Dream on. She had heard it clearly while standing outside Zhang Ting’an’s room — this man held no romantic feelings for her. The bond between them was sustained purely by their shared experiences of hardship. Had she not been exposed, that bond would have been enough for Zhang Zhixu to help her rise smoothly through the ranks of officialdom.
But now that she had been exposed, and Zhang Zhixu’s temper ran high besides, she had to prepare for the worst.
After organizing her jewelry, hairpins, property deeds, and banknotes, Chen Baoxiang turned around and spotted the wooden box he had sent her earlier.
She tilted her head and studied it for a moment, thinking to take it along with the gold hairpin she had to the pawnshop.
But when she opened it, she froze.
Inside lay an extraordinarily elaborate and ornate peacock hairpin. Five-colored gemstones studded the entire tail, the body and crest wrought from gold filigree carried real weight, and from the beak hung a strand of gleaming golden pearls.
Something this gaudy could never be Zhang Zhixu’s taste.
But Chen Baoxiang adored it. She took it out and turned it this way and that, utterly reluctant to put it down.
“A thank-you gift grabbed at random,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “This is clearly a new item from Wanbao that hasn’t even gone on sale yet.”
The words left her lips, and she fell silent.
The bold red-and-green peacock shimmered brilliantly beneath the candlelight. She tapped absently at the golden pearls, her eyes half-lidded, feeling a pang of regret.
The wind stirred; the grass and trees bowed low. All around her was stillness and emptiness.
She waited quietly in the courtyard, reasoning that given the second young master’s temperament, it wouldn’t be long before she received an order demoting or reassigning her.
Yet two days passed, and there was no word from Zhang Zhixu’s side. Instead, she was the one who received an invitation from the Grand Princess’s residence first.
Chen Baoxiang changed her clothes at once and went.
In truth, ever since first arriving in the capital, Chen Baoxiang had considered seeking shelter under the Grand Princess. After all, Cheng Huaili enjoyed deep imperial favor. If anyone could stand against him, only the Grand Princess — the one person willing to oppose the Emperor himself — could.
Unfortunately, she had found no way in at the time, and the Grand Princess was not someone who looked kindly on just anyone.
Now, to be suddenly summoned — Chen Baoxiang assumed it was because the Grand Princess had discovered her enmity toward Cheng Huaili’s faction, or perhaps considered her a useful talent.
But after the exchange of formal greetings, the Grand Princess, lounging against her handsome male companion, said with an air of disappointment: “The legendary Magistrate Chen turns out to be no fox spirit enchantress at all. How is it that she’s such a plain, coarse person?”
Chen Baoxiang: ?
She looked down at her newly tailored fitted uniform, and scratched her head in confusion. “I think I’m fine, actually. Quite distinctive, even.”
The Grand Princess was amused.
She snapped open her fragrant fan, and the fine lines at the corners of her eyes creased with laughter. “Come here. Let me have a proper look at you.”
Chen Baoxiang obediently walked over and spread her arms, turning a full circle to the left, then to the right.
“Interesting.” The Grand Princess covered her lips with a laugh. “No wonder Zhang Fengqing is fond of you.”
Her heart sank slightly. Chen Baoxiang cupped her hands in a bow. “Your Highness may be mistaken. Magistrate Zhang and I share only a passing acquaintance.”
“Oh?” The Grand Princess raised an eyebrow. “Only a passing acquaintance — and yet that passing acquaintance was enough for him to lose all self-restraint at the Temple of the Four Gods and carry on with you in such an outrageous manner?”
As she spoke, one hand drifted lazily over the taut abdomen of the male companion nestled against her.
The companion let out a muffled sound at her touch, the tail of it curling through the air in a dozen loops.
Chen Baoxiang tactfully averted her gaze.
“Young girls are so guarded,” the Grand Princess said with a dismissive wave. She sent the companion away, gathered her skirts, and rose, moving close to Chen Baoxiang. “Word has spread all through the palace and beyond. You ought to thank me for saving you today — otherwise, the summons you’d be receiving right now would be from Princess Rouyi.”
“Princess Rouyi?”
“You haven’t heard?” The Grand Princess laughed lightly. “Two years ago, when Zhang Fengqing placed third in the imperial examinations, the Emperor already had intentions of arranging a marriage between him and Rouyi.”
So that was who it was.
Chen Baoxiang drew a sharp breath and waved her hands frantically. “There is nothing between Magistrate Zhang and me. We are completely clean.”
“That I don’t believe, and Rouyi naturally won’t either.” The Grand Princess smiled and lifted her chin with the folded fan, looking into her eyes with undisguised glee. “Just wait for your death, then.”
“……” Chen Baoxiang’s legs went weak beneath her. She nearly dropped to her knees then and there.
What kind of jest was this — their feigned intimacy back then had been purely a strategic convenience. How had it spread so far that even the palace knew of it?
“Your Highness.” She swallowed. “If I were to cut ties with Magistrate Zhang now,” she asked pitifully, “would there still be a way for me to survive?”
The Grand Princess smiled even more brightly and shook her head gently. “No, I’m afraid not~”
The young woman before her looked genuinely frightened. Her complexion had gone snow-white, and for the first time, a trace of delicate, pitiable charm broke through.
Satisfied, the Grand Princess nodded, then continued. “— But if you are willing to serve me, I can guarantee your safety.”
The words had barely fallen before Chen Baoxiang dropped to her knees with the speed of lightning, and knocked her head against the floor three times in rapid succession: “Your servant Chen Baoxiang, native of Gui Township, currently residing at Xuanwumen, five people in the household, three hundred taels of silver in savings, life’s ambition is to lead troops into battle — and henceforth I will lay down my liver and brains for Your Highness until my dying breath. Where Your Highness points east, I will never go west. Where Your Highness goes south, I will never go north. To your servant, Your Highness will be the commander’s banner at the battle’s front and the moon above the heavens. Your servant swears to serve and follow you with unswerving loyalty.”
All of it delivered without a single pause.
Even the Grand Princess, who had seen countless people, was struck momentarily speechless. Then she burst into uncontrollable laughter, doubling forward and backward: “And you’re not afraid that Zhang Fengqing will hear of this and say you have no backbone?”
“A person must first be alive before they can speak of backbone.” She pressed both hands respectfully to her forehead. “Those who understand the times are heroes.”
“Very well.” The Grand Princess waved her hand, still laughing. “Your life — this princess shall protect it.”
“Many thanks, Your Highness.” Chen Baoxiang kowtowed to the floor. “From this day forward, your servant will stay as far from Magistrate Zhang as possible.”
“That will not do.” The Grand Princess shook her head. “My orders are the exact opposite.”
Chen Baoxiang looked up in astonishment, and saw the magnificently dressed woman above her enunciate each word with deliberate clarity: “I want you to keep Zhang Zhixu occupied — so thoroughly that he has no heart left for Rouyi. Ideally, by the end of it, he will defy the imperial decree and refuse the marriage.”
“……” Her mouth fell open.
A candlewick in the hall crackled and spat. Chen Baoxiang snapped back to herself and kowtowed once more. “Your Highness, this absolutely cannot be.”
“You just said you were willing to lay down your liver and brains for me. And now you’re frightened?”
“Your servant is not frightened — I simply lack the ability.” She said miserably. “Zhang Zhixu is cold-blooded and ruthless, rarely moved by beauty. What sort of person am I, to make someone like him feel anything? Besides, defying an imperial decree is a grave offense. No matter how besotted he might become, he would never do something that could bring ruin to his entire clan. I beg Your Highness to reconsider.”
She pressed her forehead to the floor and remained there for a long moment.
The hall fell quiet. Only the candlelight continued to flicker and dance.
Chen Baoxiang’s heart hammered like a drum. She felt as though a hand had closed around her throat, as though she might suffocate in the very next instant.