The next question on Jiang Zhiyi’s lips suddenly halted as she stared woodenly at Yuance, blinking twice.
The man whose breath was normally steady from years of martial training now had a slightly heaving chest, his jaw set in a hard line, his entire being like a bow drawn to its absolute limit.
After a long moment, Jiang Zhiyi stuttered: “You’re ab-absurd… Who would detain someone they like as a prisoner and threaten to bind their hands and feet?”
“I would.”
…Not only absurd but also self-righteous.
How was this any different from those bandits in storybooks who abducted village girls to be their mountain brides?
Jiang Zhiyi looked at him incredulously, seeing him stare at her unblinkingly. Her gaze flickered as she slowly shifted her eyes away. “…This is like a scholar meeting a soldier—impossible to reason with. Jing Zhe, Gu Yu, let’s go!”
With that, she waved lightly and left the teahouse with her maids.
The man with a parched mouth remained alone in the private room, silent for a long while before picking up Jiang Zhiyi’s teacup and draining it in one gulp.
Back at the inner courtyard of the Shen residence, Jiang Zhiyi paced anxiously inside her room.
Heaven had sent her Pei Zisong—a person of sufficient importance, yet not here on official business, so his movements hadn’t been known in advance. If even Pei Zisong couldn’t help her, her freedom seemed hopeless.
Her two maids also whispered worriedly on the side.
Gu Yu: “Sister Jing Zhe, surely Young General Shen wouldn’t intercept even the Prime Minister’s letter?”
Jing Zhe shook her head: “He shouldn’t. The Princess was considerate, only saying she wanted to return to the capital to cancel the marriage due to unpleasantness. If Young General Shen were to make a big fuss over such a letter, it would only reveal that he has ulterior motives for this marriage, which would be disadvantageous to him…”
Despite these words, all three remained too nervous to sit still.
As the sky gradually darkened, approaching the time for lamps to be lit, the distant sound of a zither melody reached their ears.
Jiang Zhiyi, who had grown tired of pacing and was resting on a daybed, immediately stood up. She asked her two maids to open the doors and windows, leaned out to listen carefully, and confirmed it was indeed “Yu Boya Mourns Zhong Ziqi.” The sound seemed to be coming from the direction of the rear of the Shen residence.
Jiang Zhiyi hurriedly rushed over. As she neared the back door, she came face to face with a pair of black leather boots.
Looking up, she saw Yuance, who had also been drawn by the sound.
Their gazes—one anxious, one somber—met in the air like lightning and thunder. After an instant, Jiang Zhiyi lifted her skirt and dashed toward the back door.
Yuance stepped forward, catching up to her in just a few strides.
Hearing that the person behind her hadn’t even needed to run to match her three steps with his one, Jiang Zhiyi grew so anxious that she stumbled, her foot catching on a step.
Yuance had just overtaken her when his brow twitched. He turned back and caught her in one movement.
Jiang Zhiyi clutched his arm unsteadily, raising her eyes with lingering fear: “…I’m a frail woman. It’s dishonorable of you to overpower me like this.”
Yuance narrowed his eyes: “For a frail woman, you’re quite capable of communicating through music with others.”
“…”
Jiang Zhiyi found this bewildering: “If you hadn’t refused to play music with me back then, forcing Pei Zisong and me to pair up, how would today’s situation have arisen? You brought this upon yourself—don’t blame others!”
“…”
After a moment of glaring at each other, they both turned away.
Hearing that one piece had ended and another had begun, Jiang Zhiyi grew increasingly anxious. She cleared her throat lightly: “This stalemate is pointless. Wait until I catch my breath, then we’ll start together. Whoever’s faster wins by their ability.”
…He didn’t know who needed to be in a stalemate with her. If not for supporting her, he would have already passed through all eight gates.
Yuance waited patiently, leaving his arm for her to steady herself.
Jiang Zhiyi leaned on him, catching her breath for a few moments, then suddenly let go of his hand and hurried up the steps, removing the door bolt and rushing out.
Yuance: “…”
Yuance looked down at his rejected hand, smiling bitterly as he followed, crossing the threshold.
Once past the doorway, both stopped in their tracks.
There was no sign of Pei Zisong outside, only a female musician sitting in front of the residence gate, playing a seven-stringed zither.
Faced with the young man and woman who had burst out as if racing to a market, the musician’s hand paused on the strings. She looked up in surprise at Yuance, then at Jiang Zhiyi, before standing up with her instrument and bowing to Jiang Zhiyi: “Miss, a young gentleman asked me to convey a message to you. He says he will not fail your trust and asks you to wait calmly for good news.”
Jiang Zhiyi felt greatly relieved. She smiled and thanked the musician, then noticed Yuance had turned his head away, seeming rather uninterested in this news—
Of course, Pei Zisong’s letter had been sent, and he, as the “Lord of Heaven” in Hexi, naturally knew this. He probably felt that he had failed to catch Pei Zisong and had heard nothing but a worthless message, having raced with her for nothing.
But after his strong reaction at the teahouse earlier, had he truly done nothing?
As if seeing through her thoughts, Yuance snorted with a laugh: “Until the engagement is broken, you remain my fiancée for each day. You can write to the Marquis of Yong’en, and so can I.”
So he had weighed the options and realized that intercepting the Prime Minister’s letter would only arouse suspicion, and had calculated accordingly.
“No matter how you distort the facts, would my uncle believe you over me?” Jiang Zhiyi scoffed coldly, pointing at the sky above, “It’s getting late. Hurry back and write your letter, soon-to-be-ex-fiancé.”
“…”
“No, no, no, how could we use such a formal address as ‘To the Marquis of Yong’en’?” A quarter-hour later, in the study of the main courtyard, Mu Xinhong stood beside the desk, advising Yuance.
“Then what should I write?”
“Usually in situations where a wife wants to return to her parents’ home and one needs to please a father-in-law, I would write—’Dear Honorable Father-in-law.'”
“…”
“Adapt it a bit—write ‘Dear Honorable Uncle-in-law.'”
Seeing that Yuance still hesitated to put brush to paper, Mu Xinhong spoke earnestly: “Young General, you must see the situation. The Princess’s letter was written by Master Pei. How do you think the Marquis will react upon receiving it? He’ll assume you prevented the Princess from writing. If you don’t write something pleasant, how will you get past this obstacle?”
Yuance let out a deep breath and put the brush to paper.
Mu Xinhong watched with satisfaction as he began writing one character at a time, while continuing to ramble: “Also, from what I observed, the Princess had an opportunity today but didn’t expose you, which shows her deep feelings for the Elder Young Master. Even when treated this way by you, she’s unwilling to see the Shen family suffer—”
Yuance’s brush paused: “Do I need you to tell me this? Say something useful.”
“If you’d let me finish, I was going to say that since the Princess has such a heart, what does that tell us about her?”
Yuance closed his eyes briefly, calming himself for a moment: “Someone who harbors deep feelings for my brother.”
“…If I may say so, Young General, why do you always go in circles when you’re jealous? This indicates that the Princess is a kind-hearted, soft-hearted person.”
“So what?” Yuance looked up at him. “It’s not directed at me.”
“My dear Young General, someone with a sharp tongue but a soft heart responds better to gentleness than force. My wife is exactly like this. Whenever I quarrel with her, she gets so angry she grabs a kitchen knife, but when I humbly kneel before her, she softens. So, rather than using force, use tenderness. Forgive me for being presumptuous, but pretend you’re an unwanted dog, and try to appear pitiful to the Princess…”
Yuance frowned: “I can’t do that.”
Thinking of Pei Zisong’s “wait calmly for good news,” Jiang Zhiyi slept well that night—her first good sleep since regaining her memories. The next morning, she even had an extra half bowl of porridge for breakfast.
Seeing that she had lost weight these past few days and was finally eating properly, Jing Zhe felt relieved. After breakfast, she shared some good news: “Princess, it seems Young General Shen believes you won’t reveal his secret. This morning, I noticed that more than half of the guards around our courtyard have been withdrawn, leaving only the usual number. Also, that young man named San Qi has brought you a Pekingese dog, saying he heard you kept a raccoon dog in Chang’an, but unfortunately, couldn’t bring it on this journey, so he hopes this Pekingese can entertain you.”
Just as she finished speaking, Gu Yu walked in carrying a small, silver-white Pekingese with bright, fluffy fur: “Princess, look how adorably silly this dog is. They say it was specially bathed before meeting you, so it’s very clean. Would you like to hold it for a while?”
Jiang Zhiyi glanced up and snorted lightly: “He’s probably writing all sorts of things about me in his letter to my uncle. Why try to appease me with a dog? Besides, he knows I keep a cat, so why send a dog? Take it away.”
“Woof-whine—” A trembling bark sounded, as if the Pekingese knew it wasn’t welcome. It turned its head to look at Gu Yu with a sorrowful expression.
Gu Yu gently stroked the small Pekingese in her arms, hesitating with reluctance.
Jing Zhe gave her a look, signaling her to take it away.
They had thought the Princess was too bored here, and anything that could amuse her would be welcome, even if it came from the “enemy.” But if the Princess disliked it, seeing it would only irritate her more, so it was better to return it.
Gu Yu: “But San Qi has already gone far away. Where should I take this dog?”
Jing Zhe: “Let it stay in the courtyard for now. Send a message for someone to come get it. Just keep it away from the Princess’s sight.”
Gu Yu acknowledged and took the dog out. However, removing it from sight didn’t remove it from hearing.
The small Pekingese, though tiny in size, had quite a loud voice. Throughout the morning, it would occasionally let out pitiful “woof-whines” in the courtyard. Seeing Jiang Zhiyi’s irritation and that no one came to collect the dog, Gu Yu had to harden her heart and take it completely out of the courtyard.
With peace restored to her ears and Yuance absent during the day, after Jiang Zhiyi took a sufficient afternoon nap, her two maids coaxed her into the courtyard for a walk to enjoy the March sunshine.
Unfortunately, the weather turned against them. Halfway through their walk, the sky darkened, and it looked like rain was coming. Jing Zhe and Gu Yu had to support Jiang Zhiyi back to the room, managing to get inside just before the rain started.
The rain came suddenly, accompanied by spring thunder. As soon as dusk fell, Jing Zhe busied herself lighting the lamp trees in the room, illuminating both the inner and outer chambers as brightly as daylight.
Gu Yu helped nearby, remarking with surprise: “Why light it so brightly?”
“The Princess fears thunder. Fortunately, we have these lamp trees; otherwise, we’d have to go out looking for candles.”
As they spoke, they turned to see Jiang Zhiyi leaning askew against the daybed, her eyes lowered, lost in thought.
Jing Zhe: “What’s wrong, Princess? Are you still afraid?”
Gu Yu pulled Jing Zhe aside and lowered her voice: “Sister Jing Zhe, you don’t know, but during the last thunderstorm, Young General Shen carried the Princess on his back across the mountain to the post station. The Princess might be remembering that. Let’s not disturb her.”
Jing Zhe looked at Jiang Zhiyi and frowned, then turned back to continue lighting candles.
Just then, a persistent sound came from outside: “Woof-whine…”
Jiang Zhiyi snapped out of her thoughts, blinking in confusion: “Did I mishear? Wasn’t the dog taken out of the courtyard? Why is it still barking?”
“I did take it out…” Gu Yu was also puzzled and quickly opened the window to look outside.
To her surprise, she saw the small Pekingese alone, crouching in the open courtyard, soaked thoroughly by the rain and shivering pitifully. There was a covered corridor nearby where it could have taken shelter, but the foolish dog hadn’t moved an inch.
Gu Yu hurriedly reported the situation to Jiang Zhiyi.
Jiang Zhiyi got up, walked to the window to look, and frowned: “I said to have someone come get it. Why hasn’t it been taken away at this hour?”
Gu Yu tugged at her heartstrings: “Princess, it’s quite pitiful for the dog to be sent over and then rejected like this. Shall we bring it in out of the rain for now? After all, the dog is innocent.”
Jiang Zhiyi waved her hand, signaling her to go ahead.
In the courtyard, Yuance, who had just stepped in, witnessed Gu Yu coming out to pick up the dog.
Mu Xinhong held an umbrella over him from behind: “Young General, you see? I told you this dog would win the Princess’s heart within a day. Even a dog understands that the Young Madam responds better to gentleness than force. Why don’t you?”
Yuance turned his head with a cold expression, slowly giving him a look.
Mu Xinhong flinched: “I misspoke. I’ll accept a couple of military punishments. I’ll leave this umbrella for…”
“Leave what?” Yuance interrupted icily.
“Huh?”
Yuance let out a breath: “Move your obstructing umbrella.”
Mu Xinhong was stunned for a moment before realizing what was happening—he was going to emulate the “former dog.” He immediately moved the umbrella away.
With this move, the expected downpour did not come. Only a few sparse raindrops fell on his head, and even these stopped after a moment.
The two men standing in the rain looked up—
The rain had stopped.
“…”
Seeing the dark clouds disperse and the sky calm, Mu Xinhong laughed dryly to smooth things over: “Young General, military operations rely on timing, terrain, and unity. Tonight, the timing doesn’t seem right… So maybe next time. Now that we know the trick, why worry about not succeeding in the future?”
“When I wage war, there’s no such thing as unsuitable timing.”
“Indeed, when you fight, you have methods for rain, methods for no rain, and if necessary, you can even fight against the wind. But in this situation, how can you get drenched without rain? You can’t exactly ask heaven to send you another downpour…”
“Go get a bucket of water.”
“…”
At the same moment, in the bedchamber, after the two maids had dried the Pekingese with a velvet blanket, Jiang Zhiyi watched as the dog looked up at her expectantly, whining softly. She bent down to pick it up and sighed: “You poor thing, stuck with such a heartless master who abandons you after sending you here. Next time you see him, bite him, understand?”
The Pekingese’s wet fur had curled up, revealing its pink belly. It whined once and nestled into her arms, though it wasn’t clear whether it understood.
…Well, this dog was too small; it probably couldn’t bite that villain who could snap ten loops of cloth in one go anyway.
Just as she was thinking this, there came a knock-knock at the door.
The two maids, busy cleaning up the mess, looked up and saw the tall shadow falling across the doorway. They looked questioningly at Jiang Zhiyi.
“Open the door. Let him take the dog back.” Jiang Zhiyi jerked her chin.
Gu Yu stepped forward and pulled the door open.
Jiang Zhiyi raised her eyes, about to speak—
And saw the second drenched dog of the night, water streaming from head to toe, with a wisp of what might have been cold or hot vapor rising from his head.
“…”