After that storm, the envoy set up camp nearby.

Although the Princess hadn’t been caught in the rain, she inevitably caught the wind, becoming infected with a cold that day. When Military Doctor Li came to check her pulse, he said the Princess had been too preoccupied with worries lately, which had weakened her constitution, making her unable to resist even a slight invasion of wind evil.

The Princess asked Military Doctor Li how Young General Shen was doing, whether he had drunk ginger soup to ward off the cold, and if he had caught a cold.

Military Doctor Li seemed to pause for a moment, then lifted the tent flap, pointing outside as he left.

The Princess looked in the direction Military Doctor Li indicated and saw Young General Shen standing perfectly fine in the camp, discussing something with the soldiers, still wearing thin black clothes, appearing indifferent to the cold.

After Military Doctor Li left, the Princess, wrapped in her quilts, looked at the black cape hanging to the side and said that this man had given her his cape but hadn’t even worn a straw rain cape like everyone else, getting soaked in such a heavy rain yet acting as if nothing had happened.

As she attended to the Princess drinking her medicinal soup, she said that people trained in martial arts naturally had stronger constitutions than ordinary people. They had to fight in all weather conditions, whether under the scorching sun or pouring rain, so perhaps he was used to it.

“He used to be such a delicate person…” the Princess reminisced with a distant look, remarking to her how throughout this journey, she discovered that Shen Yuance had truly undergone a complete transformation.

Losing a father and experiencing war were both cruel things. After going through these and having several close brushes with death, if he had remained the same as before, wouldn’t he be a monster? Becoming steady and mature was only natural—at that time, she and the people of Chang’an all thought the same.

Though the Princess spoke this way, after traveling together for so long, she still found it difficult to reconcile the current Shen Yuance with the formerly idle, grinning young master she remembered. Occasionally, when she saw him display mannerisms similar to before, she would recall his past ugly behavior and still hold little goodwill toward him. But sometimes, looking at the person before her, he seemed so disconnected from her memory that they might as well be two different people.

For a long time, the Princess’s feelings toward Young General Shen seemed very complex, so complex that perhaps even the Princess herself couldn’t quite discern which emotion held the high ground, or what emotions were at play during those moments of disconnect.

Due to the Princess’s cold, the envoy delayed at that location for several days.

During those days, Young General Shen never once set foot in the Princess’s tent.

When she returned the washed cape on the Princess’s behalf, he was neither warm nor cold, not even offering a casual inquiry about the Princess’s health.

She thought that Young General Shen was probably avoiding suspicion. In the midst of the rainstorm and rockslide, his actions had been out of urgent necessity, which everyone understood. But the escort general and the peace bride Princess certainly shouldn’t become too close.

Previously, whether playing cards or chess, they had always done so in the open air, in plain view of everyone. But now the weather had turned cold, and the Princess was ill, so it was not advisable for her to stay outside for long.

Indeed, when they set out again and the Princess found the journey boring, she twice invited Young General Shen to play games, but both times he said he was busy.

The Princess then put away all those playthings.

The journey became much duller. Whether during the day in the carriage or at night in the tent, the Princess often sat vacantly, lost in thought.

The Princess’s lingering cold symptoms also never fully disappeared, with occasional coughs. Military Doctor Li became a regular visitor to the Princess, checking her pulse morning and evening.

She worriedly asked Military Doctor Li why the medicine wasn’t working.

Military Doctor Li said that deep-seated illnesses were difficult to cure, and the root cause lay in the Princess’s state of mind, as she was still too preoccupied with worries.

The Princess hadn’t shown any resentment about having nothing to play with these days, and even her daydreaming was quiet and peaceful. Upon hearing this, she suddenly seemed to have suffered a tremendous injustice, her eyes reddening as she said, “I’ve been trying so hard to be happy, I’ve been trying so hard…”

She and Military Doctor Li exchanged glances, neither able to offer any words of comfort.

That night, after setting up camp, Young General Shen came to the Princess’s tent and gestured to the silent Princess, saying, “Take them out.”

The Princess was stunned and asked, “Take what out?”

Young General Shen sighed, “Your toys.”

From that day on, the Princess’s tent door was often half-open, with Young General Shen sitting at the draft, visible from the outside, continuing to accompany the Princess in those childish games.

Strangely enough, these games seemed like magic medicine. After a few days, the Princess truly stopped coughing, and her cold was cured.

The Princess, now full of life and vigor, found new enthusiasm for self-entertainment. When winter came and snow began to fall, after the first snow, the Princess told Minister Zhou she wanted to hold a snow celebration banquet.

The nobles of Chang’an often held snow celebration banquets in winter, though these usually involved scholars reciting poetry and making merry. Minister Zhou asked the Princess how she wanted to arrange it.

The Princess said to forget about poetry recitation—besides her, no one here would recite anyway—and suggested organizing an archery competition instead. She would provide the prizes, with awards for all participants and special rewards for the top three.

Minister Zhou made the arrangements, and the next evening, on a clear night after the snow, everyone in the camp gathered around braziers eating hot pot. A group of Yuance Army soldiers, eager for the prizes, gathered excitedly around the targets.

The Princess ate hot pot while watching the competition, noticing Young General Shen sitting firmly at the table without moving, and asked why he wasn’t participating.

Young General Shen raised an eyebrow: “If I join, what chance would they have?”

As she helped the Princess cook meat in the pot, she said to Young General Shen, “Rest assured, Young General Shen, the Princess has prepared two first-place prizes.”

The Princess nudged her slightly, as if reproaching her for speaking out of turn.

She suddenly realized that when the Princess had told Minister Zhou to prepare two first-place prizes yesterday to prevent Young General Shen from taking everyone else’s share, it wasn’t because she was afraid he would compete for the prize, but because she had anticipated that Young General Shen wouldn’t want to compete with his own soldiers for prizes. So she had prepared two prizes.

This first-place prize was the Princess’s gift for Young General Shen.

“Thanks to Minister Zhou for being thoughtful and reminding the Princess,” she quickly amended her slip of the tongue.

Young General Shen was silent for a moment, then rose to his feet and went to select a long bow.

As expected, the soldiers complained loudly, saying Young General Shen was coming to cut off their source of income.

“I’ll share the prize with you if I win,” Young General Shen nocked an arrow, released his fingers, and the arrow struck the bullseye. He walked past ten targets, shooting ten arrows, hitting the center ten times.

The Princess smiled, resting her chin on her palm as she watched.

When Young General Shen undisputedly won first place and laid down the long bow to walk back, the Princess held up a cup of hot soup: “The first prize is meat cooked by this Princess herself.”

Young General Shen stood at the edge of the table, lowering his eyelashes as if somewhat at a loss for words, then took the bowl and was about to distribute it to the soldiers.

“Hey?” The Princess stopped him, “Such a great honor, and you’re already sharing it?”

Young General Shen halted, snorting a laugh at the Princess: “Such a great honor from the Princess, how could I alone be worthy of it?”

“Now that you know I’m the Princess and you’re a subject, how dare you share what I’ve awarded you with others?” The Princess pouted unhappily.

Young General Shen narrowed his eyes, looking down at the beef in the bowl. After a while, he tilted his head back and consumed it all at once, soup and meat together, without any savoring or slow chewing, truly seeming disdainful of this honor.

The Princess observed him, then produced the real prize, handing a wooden box to Young General Shen: “Here, this is the actual prize.”

When the box was opened, a dark jade archer’s thumb ring was revealed.

Young General Shen’s gaze seemed to flicker for a moment, silently staring at the thumb ring before him, lost in thought, remaining silent for a long time.

The Princess broke the silence first, saying lightly, “During the hunt, I heard them say that archery hurts the hands, and wearing a thumb ring prevents pain. Though I understand military archers probably have their own special thumb rings, for practical use, you all have those. So I chose two attractive ones, with the other one going to the first-place winner besides you, to be fair.”

After a long time, Young General Shen finally moved his gaze from the thumb ring to look at the Princess.

It was a very complex look. Even now, thinking back, it’s still hard to understand what story that gaze contained.

Soon, several soldiers gathered around, asking Young General Shen for the promised prize he had said he would share with them.

Young General Shen came to his senses and showed them the thumb ring: “How should I share this? Should I break it into pieces for you?”

Seeing the fine jade, the soldiers hurriedly said they wouldn’t dare destroy such a treasure and tactfully withdrew.

Young General Shen closed the box lid, glanced at the Princess, and returned to his tent.

After Young General Shen left, she quietly asked the Princess, “Does this thumb ring have any special meaning?”

The Princess shrugged: “What meaning could it have? He’s been my ‘entertainer’ for so many days, just giving him some compensation.”

That night, the Princess stood outside wearing a cloak and holding a hand warmer, staying until late at night, refusing to go to bed even after everyone had dispersed.

Actually, the Princess had never liked snow before. On snowy days when it was freezing cold, she would always lazily curl up in her warm chamber, either casually flipping through a book or playing with her pet raccoon.

The Princess had never liked banquets either, whether hosting or attending them. After all, in Chang’an, apart from Princess Baojia, the Princess didn’t have any friends worth socializing with. She disliked the pretense, so she always claimed to prefer tranquility.

But that night, the Princess seemed to cherish the opportunity the snow had given her to host a banquet. Perhaps both the snow and the banquet were just excuses for the Princess to seek liveliness.

As long as she didn’t go to bed, the festivities wouldn’t end. The Princess delayed, saying she still wanted to build a snow lion.

So she accompanied the Princess in building one. Perhaps because they had dawdled for too long, Young General Shen couldn’t stand it any longer, and the man who had already returned to his tent came back out.

With Young General Shen helping to build, she focused on taking care of the Princess, occasionally warming the Princess’s hands.

Soon, a lifelike snow lion half the height of a person was piled up in front of the Princess’s tent, like a fierce door guardian.

Young General Shen asked the Princess if she could go to bed now.

The Princess, covering her frozen red hands, returned to her tent with contentment.

Early the next morning, she received instructions from Minister Zhou, saying that since the Princess had retired late the night before, they could delay their departure by one step today, and there was no need to wake the Princess too early.

By the time the Princess naturally awoke, washed up, dressed, and went out, the sun was already high, and the snow lion they had built at the tent entrance the night before had already melted beyond recognition.

The Princess stood at the tent entrance, staring fixedly at that puddle of snow, suddenly asking her: “Jing Zhe, do you think this is like drinking poison to quench thirst?”

Snow will always melt, festivities will always end.

No matter how much joy filled the journey, it was nothing but an illusion, a fleeting dream.

Just like drinking poison to quench thirst.

Winter came, the weather grew increasingly cold, and the envoy drew ever closer to the border. They were finally approaching the end.

Perhaps the journey was too long, long enough for people to accept the destination, or perhaps it was too short, so short that people couldn’t even come to their senses. On the night before crossing the border, the Princess was extraordinarily calm.

She calmly bathed and washed, calmly went to sleep, and the next morning calmly put on her wedding dress, so calm it bordered on numbness, like a puppet on strings.

Until that morning, just before boarding the carriage, they noticed a familiar figure missing from the envoy. The Princess’s expression, previously like a dead pond, finally rippled as she asked where Young General Shen was.

Minister Zhou said that Young General Shen’s old injury had flared up, so he would not personally escort the Princess for the final leg of the journey.

The Princess was shocked, her eyes widening as she asked how his old injury could have flared up when he had been fine throughout the journey, and how serious it was.

Minister Zhou said he wasn’t clear on the details, only knowing that Military Doctor Li had determined that Young General Shen shouldn’t move around and strain his tendons and muscles. Additionally, they had received information that the warlike Second Prince of Xiluo, who wasn’t originally part of the welcoming party, might have come to the border after hearing that Young General Shen was escorting the bride. Perhaps he wanted to meet Young General Shen. Even if Young General Shen were in good health, he should stop at this point. If he appeared before the Xiluo people with an injury, they might take advantage of the situation.

The Princess listened to Minister Zhou’s words, looking at the envoy already prepared to depart, and boarded the carriage with a visibly anxious demeanor.

She, like the Princess, felt as if she had lost her mainstay and inexplicably began to panic.

She recalled that after the evening meal the night before, Young General Shen had told the Princess they would cross the border tomorrow and to go to bed early. At that time, he had shown no signs of anything unusual.

The Princess had still wanted to play one more round of cards to decide a winner, but Young General Shen had dampened her spirits, so she had returned to her tent early, without even saying a word of farewell to him.

After all, farewell words are usually spoken at the very end.

But not all endings come as expected. After missing them, one realizes that a certain moment, without warning, a certain glance never particularly noticed, was the last.

The Princess had physically boarded the carriage, but her soul remained behind. As the carriage began to roll forward, she seemed to belatedly realize that this departure meant no return, and suddenly poked her head out the window: “Minister Zhou, let me say a few words of farewell to Young General Shen, after all, he escorted me for three months…”

“Princess, Young General Shen left early this morning,” Minister Zhou also looked regretful.

“How could he not even say goodbye to me? Is he badly injured…” the Princess murmured.

Minister Zhou seemed somewhat reluctant, but still told the Princess the truth: “Not really, he just can’t ride a horse, but he could still get into a carriage by himself.”

The long procession of carriages moved along its predetermined path. The Princess, wearing that elaborate wedding dress, sat blankly in the carriage. After traveling quite a distance, at some point she blinked, blinking down tears.

At that time, they all thought that was the end.

Later, she often thought, if that truly had been the last between the Princess and Young General Shen, perhaps it wouldn’t have been the worst outcome.

If everything had ended there, it might have looked like an escort general, having been tormented throughout the journey, finally completing his imperial mission and getting rid of a spoiled, troublesome peace bride who would cry at the drop of a hat, not even bothering to say farewell.

Years later, if the Princess had thought of Young General Shen again, she might have told someone, “This man was extremely nasty to me when we were young, making me hate him to the core, but later he did save my life, was injured for me, and accompanied me through a very difficult time. I’m still grateful to him.”

If someone had asked, “Just grateful to him?”

The Princess might have said, “Yes, he saved me out of concern for the bigger picture, he accompanied me because he couldn’t disobey the imperial edict, and in the end, he was so tired of me that he left without saying goodbye. What more should I feel toward him?”

But everything did not end there.

That day, the unexpected happened.

They met with the Xiluo welcoming party, staying overnight at the Xiluo border. Sleeping in their tents, they suddenly heard the sound of an argument outside at midnight.

The Princess was badly frightened. She hurriedly asked what was happening outside.

From outside came word that a drunken Xiluo man was attempting to break into the Princess’s tent at night.

Amid the chaos, the sound of weapons clashing arose as both sides came to blows.

She sheltered the Princess in the tent, not daring to step out, hurriedly helping the Princess dress while listening to those heart-stopping sounds of fighting, not immediately realizing what this might mean, only focused on ensuring the Princess didn’t come to harm.

At some point, a Yuance Army soldier, covered in blood, entered the tent, telling the Princess to follow them and retreat.

They confusedly passed through mountains of corpses and seas of blood out of the camp, only learning halfway that it was likely the news of Young General Shen’s old injury flaring up had leaked, and the Second Prince of Xiluo, unable to contain himself, wanted to seize this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to strike. So he had arranged for someone to cause a disturbance while drunk, forcing Great Yu to make the first move. The next step would have been to pursue the peace envoy under the pretext of punishment, using the opportunity to invade Hexi.

If he could eliminate Young General Shen, even if the Xiluo royal court disapproved, such an achievement would be enough for this prince to ascend to the throne in the future. After all, the truth is always determined by the victor.

But the Second Prince of Xiluo, bringing what he thought was a sufficient number of troops, was counter-attacked by the Yuance Army escorting the Princess.

At that time, they simply thought the Yuance Army was extraordinarily powerful, not stopping to consider—if the Second Prince of Xiluo had come prepared, who in this world could counter-attack and kill a prince when outnumbered in enemy territory?

That person had disguised himself too well, fooling everyone.

In the darkest moment before dawn, they retreated to the border gate, with the gate tightly closed in front and fierce pursuers behind, seemingly at a dead end.

In their desperation, they suddenly heard iron horses approaching with the momentum of splitting mountains and overturning seas, as the vast Yuance Army arrived in force.

With the pursuit troops having lost their nerve, the two armies faced off, and the Xiluo people didn’t dare to engage blindly.

The tightly closed border gate slowly opened. Beyond the gate, black-armored cavalry were arrayed in formation, with a prairie fire burning brightly, illuminating the Princess’s path home.

Minister Zhou set out overnight for Chang’an, and amid the court’s shock, officials submitted memorials requesting the Emperor to terminate the peace marriage.

The Emperor reluctantly issued an edict announcing the end of the peace marriage.

After many months, just as the Princess had accepted her fate, destiny’s pen made a sharp turn, like a meteor streaking across the sky, leaving a bold, magnificent stroke.

During the days of recovery and waiting for news at the border, the Princess still seemed unable to believe this was real, as if in a dream.

When the dust finally settled, the Princess murmured in a daze, “How is it that I’m indebted to Shen Yuance again?”

She also sighed, saying if not for Young General Shen’s old injury flaring up, the Second Prince of Xiluo wouldn’t have been tempted to start a war. Perhaps in some mysterious way, Young General Shen truly was making amends for his past behavior toward the Princess.

“But I wonder how his injury is healing,” the Princess was still concerned, though in those days whenever she asked, the Yuance Army soldiers appeared so unconcerned about their general’s injury flaring up that it seemed they didn’t take it seriously at all.

With the peace marriage terminated and the New Year approaching, they were to return to the capital.

During those days, as she prepared their belongings, the Princess often sat at the writing desk in her tent, several times dipping her brush in ink to write a letter, writing a few characters, then crumpling the paper into a ball.

At first, she thought the Princess was writing home to the Marquis, but upon asking, she learned that the Princess had already written to inform the Marquis of her safety. This later letter was one she was hesitating to send to Young General Shen.

During those days, they remained at the border. Young General Shen never appeared again. It was said he had already returned to Guzang. The Princess wanted to ask if his injury had healed, when he planned to enter the capital, and if he would travel with the envoy.

But after much consideration, since he had left so decisively, he probably couldn’t wait to be rid of her company. The Princess said Forget it, she was just asking out of courtesy, and didn’t want to invite another comment about ‘the Princess’s growing skill at presumption.”

Besides, they would see each other in Chang’an soon enough; there would be other meetings in the future. At that time, the Princess no longer regretted his departure without a farewell.

The letter was never written, and the Princess happily set out on the road back to the capital, heading toward a reunion with the Marquis after their long separation.

With mountains so far and roads so long, the Princess couldn’t reach Chang’an before New Year’s Eve, and spent the holiday on the road.

Although she was away from home, considering that she should have been in a foreign land by now, the Princess was quite content.

On New Year’s Eve, she accompanied the Princess in releasing lanterns. The Princess wrote three sky lanterns: one for the Marquis, wishing him good health; one for Princess Baojia, wishing her a good marriage; and one for Young General Shen—

“May Shen Yuance win every battle without harm, lose every gamble, and gladly be my subject.”

The Princess who excitedly released those three lanterns that day had no idea that none of these three wishes would come true.

They arrived in Chang’an in the first month of the lunar year, only to learn that after the Princess left the capital, the Marquis had worried day and night, his cough worsening, and Military Doctor Li’s prescriptions no longer effective.

The Marquis, unwilling to let the Princess know about his illness, wanted her to focus on her fight for freedom, thinking that even if the peace marriage ultimately couldn’t be changed, at least the Princess would know her uncle was doing well in Chang’an.

So the Marquis had written many letters in advance, instructing Madam Xu that if he later fell gravely ill, she should send them one by one according to schedule.

The Princess, finally reunited with the Marquis, could only watch helplessly as he wasted away, barely recognizable even to her, only able to repeatedly read those letters the Marquis had written in advance.

That first month, they heard that Young General Shen had submitted a request for leave to the Emperor, citing his old injury flaring up, saying he couldn’t come to the capital for the New Year’s audience.

In hindsight, this news carried some ominous signs, but at that time, the Princess no longer had the energy to care about the outside world.

The peace marriage had been terminated, but the bitter fruits it had sown still had to be tasted.

In the months that followed, the Princess attended to the Marquis at his bedside daily, trying every possible way to cure him, hoping to keep the last of her closest kin alive, but the Marquis still passed away in the summer.

Before his passing, the Marquis experienced a brief moment of clarity, which people commonly refer to as the return of light before death.

In this moment of clarity, the Marquis finally recognized the Princess.

Listening to the Princess recount the events of the past year in detail, knowing that she no longer had to marry for peace, the Marquis gently patted the back of her hand, saying that was wonderful, he could go with peace of mind now, only regretting that he hadn’t been able to find a good marriage for the Princess, to entrust her to a good man.

“That Shen boy is indeed our Yiyi’s lucky star, but unfortunately, your uncle won’t live to see him enter the capital. From now on, you’ll have to make your own decisions about this great matter of marriage.”

The Princess cried, telling the Marquis, “I don’t like him, and he finds me very annoying. Uncle, don’t entrust me to someone else.”

Perhaps the eyes of those near death are particularly clear. The Marquis said, “Silly child, don’t let those past grudges hold you back. Your uncle can tell when you mention him, there is joy in your heart.”

This was the last thing the Marquis said to the Princess.

The first lantern the Princess had released on New Year’s Eve was extinguished. After the funeral, the Princess was in a daze, as if returning to the year when she lost her mother as a child.

Princess Baojia brought the Princess to her princess manor, letting her stay there, saying to give it time, the days were long, and things would gradually get better.

She thought, yes, the days were long, the Princess was only eighteen, and hadn’t yet found a suitable husband. In the future, the Princess would have a new family. If the Princess truly liked Young General Shen, even if Young General Shen didn’t like the Princess, they would bind him and make him the Princess’s consort.

After the Marquis’s words, she often recalled the events of the peace journey, and the more she thought about it, the more she felt the Marquis might be right.

She thought the Princess might truly have been held back by past grudges, and that journey had been so desperate that during those times of drinking poison to quench thirst, even catching a single piece of game brought joy. Naturally, she couldn’t distinguish between the joy of catching game and the joy of being with Young General Shen, couldn’t tell whether she enjoyed playing cards or enjoyed playing cards with Young General Shen, couldn’t discern whether that thumb ring was compensation, a gift of thanks, or something from the heart.

Perhaps when the Princess had thought things through, the next time she saw Young General Shen, she would have fewer constraints and distractions.

But fate loves to play tricks, and the arrival of this next meeting caught the Princess completely unprepared.

Three months later, someone in court “discovered” that the tribute amount from Hexi the previous year was unusual, accusing Young General Shen and the Deputy Governor of Hexi of jointly embezzling. The Emperor questioned Hexi, but Young General Shen refused to respond.

Later, they learned that with the threats from Northern Jie and Hedong successively eliminated, the Emperor had already intended to weaken Hexi, which might become the next Hedong, after peace was established in the west.

Additionally, the termination of the peace marriage had fueled the Emperor’s suspicions about Young General Shen—how could it be such a coincidence that the border general’s old injury just happened to flare up, the news just happened to leak, prompting the Xiluo prince to become restless?

If the other side had succeeded, it could be called a coincidence, but ironically, the opposing prince was killed by the Yuance Army without any resistance, adding another military achievement to the Yuance Army’s record.

The Emperor suspected that Young General Shen had deliberately sabotaged the peace marriage to earn military merit, but lacking concrete evidence, during the New Year period, he had urged Young General Shen to come to the capital under the pretext of discussing Western strategy.

Young General Shen’s request for leave and failure to appear was already a challenge to imperial authority in the Emperor’s mind, and the Emperor had completely turned against him.

Over the past half year, the Emperor had both reached a peace agreement with Xiluo through commercial initiatives proposed by the Fourth Prince and established a warning line between Chang’an and Hexi, building fortresses.

When all arrangements were in place, he casually fabricated a crime, questioning Hexi, seemingly giving them a chance to explain, but regardless of how Young General Shen responded, this charge would eventually be upheld.

Young General Shen’s refusal to respond led the Emperor to drop the pretense and summon him to the capital on charges of treason.

But they learned about these twists and turns only later.

At the time of the incident, they only knew that after the edict was issued, the response to the Emperor was the iron cavalry of the Yuance Army marching east.

Young General Shen had ignored his mother, who was being held hostage in the capital, and committed the great crime of rebellion by raising an army.

Madam Shen seemed to have prepared long ago for this day and hanged herself at the Shen manor in Chang’an.

The Emperor, having prepared for half a year to meet the Yuance Army’s iron cavalry, had summoned Young General Shen to the capital while holding the initiative, also fighting a prepared battle. But the forces from Hexi far exceeded the Emperor’s estimate.

After three years of war against the north and then suppressing the Hedong rebellion, the Yuance Army was still so powerful.

That army marching east seemed to consist entirely of soldiers with the fighting spirit of death squads, unstoppable all the way.

Perhaps the Emperor had thought that Young General Shen, raising an army while being charged with crimes and with his mother as hostage, without a prince supporting him in the capital like Hedong had, would lack legitimacy and would receive no support from the court or the people, and could not change the surname of Great Yu.

But Young General Shen didn’t seem to want to change Great Yu’s surname or to take that seat. Rather than seeking power or usurping the throne, this was more like a reckless, heedless mutual destruction with the Emperor.

In the scorching summer, news floated like snowflakes into the Princess Manor, leaving the Princess shaken and anxious. Princess Baojia was as distraught as the Princess.

She didn’t dare ask what the Princess was thinking; perhaps the Princess herself didn’t know what she was thinking at the time.

Just as they were waiting for news, an imperial attendant from the Emperor’s side came to the Princess Manor, smiling as he said the Emperor was summoning the Princess to the palace.

Fate had been building up to this day for so long.

At that time, they sensed something was wrong, but what could the few hundred guards of the Princess Manor, originating from the imperial family, do against the Emperor, against the imperial guards throughout the capital?

Princess Baojia greeted the imperial attendant with a smile, saying the Princess had recently lost a close relative, was in low spirits, and physically weak. Could she possibly report this to the Emperor?

The attendant’s insistence convinced Princess Baojia that this summons had no possibility of being delayed.

Princess Baojia changed her approach, saying she would accompany the Princess to the palace, but was blocked by the imperial guards the attendant had brought.

The attendant said the Emperor had only invited the Princess alone, not allowing even a single maid to accompany her.

The Princess did not return that day. Princess Baojia hurried to the Fourth Prince’s mansion to inquire about what was happening.

The Fourth Prince, who by then controlled half the political landscape, hadn’t been informed of the reason for the Emperor’s summons to the Princess. It seemed like a deeply guarded, significant secret.

Everyone was clueless until that day when the Yuance Army reached Chang’an, approaching the city, and the Emperor personally led the Princess onto the city wall of Chang’an…

A painful moan in her sleep interrupted Jing Zhe’s reminiscence.

Jing Zhe hurriedly wiped away the tears that had blurred her eyes and looked at the Princess on the bed.

The charcoal fire had burned out, the entire abandoned palace was as cold as an ice cellar. Jiang Zhiyi had curled up into a ball, her forehead covered in cold sweat, continuously murmuring pleas in her dream: “No, no…”

Jing Zhe gently patted Jiang Zhiyi’s back, anxiously calling out: “Princess, Princess—”

Jiang Zhiyi suddenly awoke, opening her eyes with her black hair soaked in sweat, staring in terror at Jing Zhe beside the bed.

“Princess, it’s alright, it’s alright…” Jing Zhe wiped the sweat from Jiang Zhiyi’s face while repeating reassurances.

Jiang Zhiyi’s pupils, after their initial flash of panic, gradually dimmed, as if remembering where she was. She clutched her collar suffocatingly tight, gasping for breath.

“Jing Zhe, I didn’t know… why didn’t I know…”

Indeed, at that time, no one knew that the Emperor’s summons to the Princess was because, during the search of the Shen manor, a jade pendant engraved with the character “Yi” had been found in a porcelain vase on the antique shelf in the east wing study.

The Emperor had never believed that a general holding heavy troops and harboring wild ambitions would play out the cliché of “risking everything for a beauty,” a story fit only for novels, not worthy of the Emperor’s consideration.

Even though the Emperor suspected Young General Shen of deliberately sabotaging the peace marriage, he only thought it was because he enjoyed war and desired glory, never believing the Princess had any weight or significant influence on politics.

But that jade pendant hidden in a secret place made the Emperor connect it to the Princess’s name.

At that time, the Emperor was already enraged because of the Yuance Army and having lost Madam Shen as a hostage. In his fury, he immediately began investigating the owner of the pendant.

No one in the Shen household knew where the pendant had come from, but once the Emperor’s suspicions were directed at the Princess, it wasn’t difficult to verify.

The Emperor questioned Minister Zhou, asking what relationship the Princess and Young General Shen had after spending over three months together.

Minister Zhou, already understanding the Emperor’s intentions, hadn’t voiced his suspicions about the Princess and Young General Shen’s relationship, knowing that revelation would cost the Princess her life.

But under the Emperor’s interrogation, he had no choice but to state the obvious facts, for if he didn’t say it, the Emperor would ask someone else, and then Minister Zhou would be charged with deceiving the Emperor.

The Emperor questioned Minister Zhou about the details of the peace journey, and seemingly very satisfied with the answers, summoned the Princess to the palace.

Jiang Zhiyi, amid her gasping breaths, felt her internal organs cramping in pain, as if she were dying, but the cold air filling her throat reminded her she was still alive.

When summoned to the palace and shown the jade pendant, she had laughed at the Emperor for targeting the wrong person.

So Shen Yuance already had someone he cared for, keeping such a pendant in such a place; it must be someone he treasured deeply.

All those moments on the peace journey that had made her feel strange were just her presumptuous illusions after all.

She didn’t know who this “Yi” pendant belonged to, but it certainly wasn’t hers.

After her uncle’s death, if there was any corner of her numb heart that remained alive, it was probably the part that harbored hatred for the Emperor.

Now in the Emperor’s hands, knowing he had targeted the wrong person, she thought, why not let the mistake stand?

If she insisted on clearing herself, wouldn’t it risk exposing the jade pendant’s true owner?

Shen Yuance had raised an army, showing no concern even for Madam Shen, whom he had always been close to and regarded as a mother. Perhaps no one would become a hostage capable of restraining him. But surely he would care more about the owner of the jade pendant than about her, so she might as well be a “scapegoat,” repaying him for saving her life.

There was nothing in this world she longed for anymore. From being harmed by Madam Zhong, to being sent for a peace marriage, to her uncle’s death, to being captured, she was already so very tired.

She didn’t want to care about anything anymore. If in her remaining lifetime, the last sight she could see was Shen Yuance’s army at the city gates, putting the Emperor to death, that would be a good ending too.

She thought it would be a good ending.

But when she walked onto that city wall with the determination to die, what she saw was Shen Yuance surrendering his weapons and dismounting for her, his heart pierced by countless arrows.

Or rather, she should no longer call him Shen Yuance, but—

Yuan Ce.

The Emperor negotiated with the Yuance Army atop the city wall, promising no death to those who surrendered, except for Yuan Ce, whose fate was sealed. The great Yuance Army survived.

Li Dafeng also survived, bringing the truth to her hands.

Twenty-one years ago, the Celestial Master Jianwei, observing the stars at night, prophesied that twin evil stars would be born that year, who in the future might shake the nation and threaten imperial power. That year, from the capital region to the borderlands, all twins born were secretly put to death by the previous Emperor.

Madam Shen, the original wife of the Shen family, didn’t give birth to just one son that year, but a pair of identical twins.

To escape disaster, the younger of the twin brothers was secretly sent to the border, growing up in Hexi from childhood, receiving cruel training in a place without daylight, living like his brother’s shadow.

The real Shen Yuance had already died in the hot summer of the eleventh year of Xingwu. The person who returned triumphantly from Hexi in the winter of that year wasn’t Shen Yuance, but Yuan Ce.

The person who had spent three months with her on the peace journey was also Yuan Ce.

All those moments that had made her feel disconnected weren’t because Shen Yuance had changed, but because they were not the same person to begin with.

To impersonate his brother, that young man had re-carved all the old scars on his body and removed his birthmarks.

He could endure a rainstorm without harm because at ten years old, he had joined the Yuance Army, becoming its most elite scout, able to traverse thorny mountains and dense forests, reaching any place. Sun, wind, and rain were common occurrences to him.

When he ate beef in front of her, it seemed like torture, not because he disdained her honor, but because in the military, there was a special medical technique to save dying patients by cutting open a living cow’s abdomen and placing the dying person inside to soak in the warm cow’s blood, giving them a chance to be revived. Once, when severely injured, he had been placed inside a cow, so he deeply abhorred the taste of beef.

He stared at that thumb ring she had casually given him for a long time because when he was young, his father said, “How can you shoot good arrows if you fear pain?” and never allowed him to wear a thumb ring. One day, wearing a mask in the market, he stopped at a jade stall, admiring the wares, wanting to buy a jade thumb ring, promising his father he wouldn’t wear it while practicing archery. Only then did he reluctantly receive a gift.

Those moments that had given her strange feelings might not have been illusions after all.

Shen Yuance might not have cared about her, but Yuan Ce did.

That jade pendant belonged to Shen Yuance, and Yuan Ce didn’t even know of its existence. He hadn’t anticipated that his rebellion would involve her.

She asked Li Dafeng, when he learned of the jade pendant’s existence, did he misunderstand that she had been secretly engaged to his brother?

Li Dafeng said he didn’t know the answer to that either.

“Actually, on the peace journey, Minister Zhou often looked at him strangely, which made him curious, so he inquired a bit and extracted information from Minister Zhou, learning that you had someone you were secretly engaged to, and Minister Zhou suspected it was him. He asked Minister Zhou where this suspicion came from, and Minister Zhou told him what he had heard from Jing Zhe, matching him point by point.”

“But at that time, he thought Minister Zhou’s guess was unfounded. Even though he didn’t know exactly what relationship his brother had with you, he didn’t believe you had any past connection. He thought either you had a real person you were secretly engaged to, or you were just lying to gain Minister Zhou’s sympathy.”

“So at least, when he sabotaged that peace marriage, he hadn’t misunderstood that you and his brother had a past.”

He hadn’t misunderstood, yet still sabotaged that peaceful marriage for her.

As for learning about the jade pendant later, whether Yuan Ce at the city gates, in that moment of choice, had misunderstood that she and Shen Yuance had a past, or if it was simply because she was herself, and he exchanged his life for hers—

This answer, Jiang Zhiyi, would never know.

In this world, there would never again be someone to tell her.