Shen Qingwu was carrying out a secret order from Li Lingge, investigating a so-called “selection of beauties.”

No woman had ever ascended the throne in this dynasty. Li Lingge had opened that path for the first time, and the officials both civil and military still hadn’t quite found their footing. The officials in the capital, being closer to the Female Emperor, were fine, but officials out in the provinces, wanting to show their filial devotion to her, had hit upon the idea of holding a “selection”—

Except instead of selecting women, they were now selecting men.

No matter who sat on the throne, having an heir was always of great importance.

There was nothing inherently wrong with that.

If it had truly just been an ordinary selection, Li Lingge would not have sent someone to investigate in secret. She had never issued any grand summons calling for such a selection across the realm. She knew the matter was happening, and yet, for a long while now, she had not seen a single man actually selected and sent to the capital…

Li Lingge suspected that the local official who had come up with the idea of a “selection” had ulterior motives.

Being a Female Emperor whose every step was fraught with difficulty, whenever she suspected an official of impropriety, her first thought went to treason, to conspiracy against the throne. But the man in question had shown no outward signs of hostility, so the Female Emperor could only send Shen Qingwu to investigate.

Shen Qingwu traveled to the place Li Lingge had indicated. It took her two months, working undercover with a dozen or so of her men, before she finally let out a long breath.

The case was not the rebellion the Female Emperor had suspected.

It was a case of corrupt officials colluding with bandits.

The local official, using the Female Emperor’s name as pretext, had carried out the selection on a large scale, and then, claiming the Female Emperor had not yet summoned the men, kept delaying their release. The men who were taken away were handed over to bandits who were on friendly terms with the official, to be sold and traded. Whatever profit resulted, the two sides split it fifty-fifty.

Banditry in the various prefectures had never truly stopped.

That an incompetent official, unable to suppress the bandit menace, chose instead to collude with them was nothing unusual. Throughout history, such collusion between officials and outlaws had happened countless times.

Shen Qingwu sent a letter back to the Female Emperor in the capital, and then, following her own plan, infiltrated the bandits’ mountain lair, intending to have a meeting with this gang.

In the course of this, Shen Qingwu and her party had their first encounter with the enemy—rescuing several men from the corrupt clerks who had been trying to tie them up.

Her group did not reveal their identities, but the wicked petty officials, unable to beat them and thoroughly rattled, could only flee.

Before running, one clerk put on a show of bravado despite his fear: “Just you wait! We’ll report this to the Prefect, and you’ll all be caught!”

Shen Qingwu remained indifferent.

As she untied the weakened men, she said to her subordinates, “We’ll avoid the Prefect for now. No dealings with him.”

Her subordinates, all drawn from the Imperial Guard, nodded in unison, obeying their general’s order.

“Thank you for saving us, my lady.”

These frightened young men hadn’t really registered with Shen Qingwu. She untied them and let her subordinates instruct them to get far away from the area.

She didn’t speak to them, just kept her head down and worked. Then a clear, thin male voice rose in front of her, thanking her—and it was enough to make her look up in surprise.

It was a young man with the look of a refined scholar.

His pupils were rather large, his brows long and thick, his lashes fluttering like feathers.

He was, in fact, quite handsome.

But the reason Shen Qingwu’s gaze lingered on him for more than a breath was that something in his bearing reminded her of the husband she had all but forgotten…

Shen Qingwu was always utterly focused when working. When she was out on assignment, Zhang Xingjian practically never crossed her mind. She hadn’t expected that, in this desolate place, this fine-featured scholar would carry a hint of her husband’s air about him…

She drifted for a moment.

The scholar she had rescued, seeing her stare so directly at him, flushed red, mingling embarrassment with a touch of indignation.

He scrambled to his feet and bowed to her. “This unworthy one is called Zhang Nanping. Thank you, my lady, for the grace of saving my life. Such great kindness cannot be repaid with mere words—I will surely find a way to repay it.”

Shen Qingwu said, “Your surname is Zhang?”

The scholar named Zhang Nanping nodded.

In Zhang Nanping’s eyes, this woman was undeniably strange. A dozen or so men moved in and out with her, clearly following her command. Her clothes were all coated in dust, as though she had just crawled out of the earth—even the lashes above her lifted eyes were dusted with grime.

And yet her gaze was sharp and cold enough to cut.

When her eyes, pale as snow, turned toward him, Zhang Nanping’s whole body went rigid.

He stammered, “This unworthy one was on his way to the capital to sit for the exams. I have no idea how I offended them…”

Shen Qingwu turned her face away, stood, and walked toward her men, no longer listening.

Zhang Nanping: “…”

Her temperament really was strange.

The second time Zhang Nanping ran into Shen Qingwu was in a tea stall at the foot of a mountain.

That day the rain drizzled on and on. Having continued his journey after being rescued, Zhang Nanping was sitting in the tea stall, drinking tea and waiting out the rain, when he heard a burst of urgent hoofbeats.

Shen Qingwu and her subordinates appeared before Zhang Nanping’s eyes once again.

And this time…

Shen Qingwu’s clothing was nothing like it had been before.

She wore a jade-green skirt and blouse, a woven rain hat on her head, the hem and sleeves embroidered with curling grass and cloud patterns, a gold-threaded jade pendant hanging at her waist. She leapt down from her horse, and upon entering the tea stall removed her veiled hat—her dark hair swept up lightly, her profile smooth as jade, her waist slender and straight. The way she walked, her robe and sleeves flying, was unlike any ordinary young woman.

He couldn’t say why, but despite her utterly different appearance, Zhang Nanping recognized her at a glance as the same lady who had saved him that day, along with her band of “little brothers.”

Zhang Nanping couldn’t help wondering about her background—could she possibly be some formidable mountain chieftain?

She must be highly skilled in martial arts, to have so many young men following her.

Zhang Nanping felt a stab of envy: if only I had good martial skill, I wouldn’t have run into so many hardships on this road.

While Zhang Nanping sat lost in thought, a few of the men ordered tea and sat at Shen Qingwu’s table, waiting out the rain together with her.

Several of the men murmured to Shen Qingwu, “General, word is that gang of bandits is going to do business tomorrow. Quite a few ordinary families are sneaking over there, hoping to buy back the young men who were taken from them… This is our chance.”

They added, “The trouble is, we don’t know where the trade is going to take place.”

Shen Qingwu said, “Whoever among you is the most handsome, wash yourself up nicely and go deliver yourself to their door.”

The men laughed bitterly. “General, we’ve tried that method before! They don’t take a liking to us.”

True, their backgrounds were all rather distinguished, and cleaned up, they were all quite good-looking. But unfortunately, the men who had entered the Imperial Guard were all tall, broad-shouldered, and clearly not the type to be trifled with. The bandits were obviously after men who looked easy to control—they’d never pick them.

Shen Qingwu said, “Then I’ll disguise myself as a man and deliver myself.”

The men: “Um…”

It wasn’t impossible, exactly. But perhaps because they spent every day at General Shen’s side, they could tell at a glance that the General was a woman—they weren’t sure the bandits would be fooled…

Shen Qingwu suddenly picked up the woven rain hat on the table and put it on.

She glanced left and right, then pressed the brim down to block off any prying eyes.

Zhang Nanping’s face flushed instantly, and he looked away.

Who would have thought that after he’d spent a good while staring fixedly at his own nose, that woman would walk right over to his table and sit down.

Zhang Nanping stammered, “I—I—I…”

Shen Qingwu said, “Why do you keep sneaking looks at me?”

Zhang Nanping: “…”

Shen Qingwu said, “If you can’t give me a reason, I’ll send you to your death.”

A dagger flashed out and landed on the table before him, for him to choose.

Zhang Nanping said, “…I know where they’re conducting their trade.”

Shen Qingwu frowned.

She glanced at him and said nothing more.

Zhang Nanping agreed to cooperate with them.

Zhang Nanping led them, at dusk, to a village.

The place was bustling, like a market fair. Zhang Nanping whispered that the bandits used the market as cover for their dealings. Many of the local people knew about it privately; since the soldiers wouldn’t intervene, in order to ransom back their own men, families would come here in secret to trade with the bandits.

Shen Qingwu positioned her men.

She herself strolled brazenly through the market, while Zhang Nanping, acting as her guide, followed several paces behind her.

Shen Qingwu, as usual, said nothing, so Zhang Nanping explained why he knew all this: “I’m a local.”

Shen Qingwu glanced at him.

She thought to herself: I never asked.

You really are, this man talks too much.

Zhang Nanping really was innocent and helpless in the face of it.

Shen Qingwu lingered rather long in front of a stall selling caged birds, and someone quietly approached her.

The man said in a low voice, “Little miss, here to buy something?”

Shen Qingwu looked up at him.

Behind her, Zhang Nanping quickly turned his back, breaking out in a cold sweat: Lady Shen had run into one of the bandits!

Shen Qingwu, dressed in a delicate, pretty woman’s outfit, had reined in her usual killing aura and put on a bit more powder. At that moment, with the sun setting in the west, her lips red, her teeth white, she looked up at the man with wide, pitiable eyes—she really did seem rather soft and fragile.

Like one of those timid, bashful girls.

The man grinned slyly and said in a low voice, “I know what you’re here for. You’ve come to buy back… your sweetheart, haven’t you?”

Shen Qingwu asked in return, “What’s my sweetheart’s name?”

The man, prepared for this, secretly drew a scroll of paper from his sleeve.

Shen Qingwu opened it—a simple list of names.

Shen Qingwu said, “Are they all in here?”

The man said, “Of course not. This is just so you have some idea.”

Shen Qingwu said, “Then how would I know whether my sweetheart is among them?”

The man said, “What’s his name?”

Shen Qingwu said, “Surname Zhang.”

Behind her, Zhang Nanping, ears pricked up, went beet red instantly: was Lady Shen—was she talking about him?

How could she say such a thing so carelessly?

But the bandit talking with Shen Qingwu spoke with great seriousness: “We really do have someone here surnamed Zhang. When was the last time you saw him?”

Shen Qingwu said, “When did you catch him?”

The bandit dug through his memory and found such a person. “How could I tell you that… All I can say is, your sweetheart’s foot is injured, he walks with a limp, quite pitiful. If you’re fond of him and want him back, you’ll need to bring—bring two taels of silver to buy him.”

Shen Qingwu, unmoved, said, “My sweetheart is worth more than two taels of silver.”

The bandit: “…”

Shen Qingwu said, “Ten taels of gold wouldn’t be enough to buy him.”

The bandit swallowed.

The bandit thought to himself: could I have run into a fool? Who’s ever heard of someone haggling the price up?

The bandit gazed at this foolish woman with something like reverence.

The bandit grew excited: if the deal really went through, he could pocket the extra himself—how wonderful!

The bandit resolved that, no matter what, he would seal the deal with this foolish woman. “Let’s split the difference, then—will you trade ten taels of gold for your sweetheart?”

Shen Qingwu said, “I will.”

The bandit suppressed a laugh he could barely hold back.

The bandit said, “Then hurry up and bring the gold.”

Shen Qingwu said, “No rush.”

The bandit said, “No rush?”

Shen Qingwu said, “Do you know how my sweetheart injured his foot? How he ended up limping along with you all?”

The bandit, patiently humoring this difficult woman, said, “How did he get hurt?”

Shen Qingwu said, “I broke his leg myself, with my foot.”

As she spoke, before the bandit could react and turn to flee, Shen Qingwu’s foot shot out, brutally precise.

She kicked the fleeing bandit squarely in the knee, dropping him to the ground on his knees, and in the same motion, her skirts flaring, she leapt into the air. The decorative jade pendant at her waist tore free and she flung it sideways, striking another bandit charging at her with a blade square in the face.

Zhang Nanping sucked in a sharp breath.

Screams erupted throughout the market.

The Imperial Guard, who had lain in ambush on all sides, heard the commotion and charged out at once, storming straight for the bandits’ base—capture the ringleader first.

Zhang Nanping finally came back to himself, staring fixedly at Shen Qingwu—

She had the bandit pinned to the ground, the tip of her embroidered shoe pressed into his back, and with a sideways sweep of her arm she snatched a blade from someone nearby, using the hilt to force his head up.

Shen Qingwu said with a cold smile, “Tried to cheat me out of my money? Tired of living, are you?”

In the capital, it was snowing heavily just then.

Zhang Xingjian sat quietly by the window, idly admiring the snow, when, out on the pure white snow-covered ground, two figures—one tall, one small—arrived hand in hand, led in by a servant.

Zhang Xingjian saw everything clearly from his window.

Dark hair, a green robe, his brows and eyes reflecting the snowlight. This languidly elegant, handsome man seemed utterly boneless, propping his cheek on one hand while lazily waving with the other, the flirtatious sparkle in his eyes about to fly right out of him: “Second Sister, what brings you here?”

Zhang Wenbi’s expression stayed cool.

She usually couldn’t stand this frivolous manner of Zhang Xingjian’s; normally she would certainly have scolded him to speak properly. But today… Zhang Wenbi simply took the hand of the small child beside her and walked through the courtyard gate.

Zhang Xingjian found this remarkable.

He turned to Chang Lin. “Second Sister didn’t even scold me.”

Chang Lin: “…”

You’re actually wishing Miss Zhang the Second would scold you. Since Shen Qingwu left, just how bored have you become?

Zhang Wenbi entered the room and had the servant remove the child’s cloak. As the cloak was lifted away, the child’s clear, bright eyes turned to look at the person in the room.

The child bowed respectfully. “Third Uncle.”

Zhang Xingjian’s eyes lit up slightly.

The boy was fine-featured, his eyes clear and his expression well-behaved—clearly a child of the Zhang family. Had he simply been obedient, that would have been that, but the boy, hiding behind Zhang Wenbi, kept sneaking curious glances at Zhang Xingjian, which Zhang Xingjian found rather amusing.

Zhang Xingjian asked, “What’s this about, Second Sister?”

Zhang Wenbi said, “He lost his mother when he was young and was raised single-handedly by his father. His father passed away not long ago. The family elders brought him to the ancestral hall and asked who was willing to raise him. It occurred to me you’ve had nothing to do lately—would you like to look after him for a couple of days?”

Zhang Xingjian blinked. “Who said I have nothing to do? I have mountains of official documents to deal with every day. I’m worked half to death.”

Zhang Wenbi said, “So busy that you go gambling with dice at the City God Temple, get recognized by a censor, and have to bribe your way out of it through the back door so he won’t report you?”

Zhang Xingjian’s gaze drifted away.

Zhang Wenbi said, “I know full well what you’re capable of—those documents are nothing to you, and you’re not the sort to work yourself to exhaustion over official duties anyway. Your wife is away, and I can see you’ve been unbearably bored, so I thought I’d have you look after this child for a couple of days. Will you do it or not?”

Zhang Xingjian was, in truth, rather bored.

He had no particular hobbies, didn’t drink, didn’t care for women. Before his marriage, the longest-running pastime he’d had was playing chess against himself, entertaining himself alone.

But after he married, his wife was willing to play chess with him, never minding that he kept taking back moves or that the games ran too long. He’d grown spoiled by it, and since Shen Qingwu had left, even chess had lost its appeal.

Zhang Xingjian had gone looking for all sorts of idle amusements to occupy himself… and it seemed word of this had reached Zhang Wenbi’s ears.

Zhang Xingjian lowered his head and met the timid child’s gaze.

Looking at the boy, Zhang Xingjian saw something of himself as a child—living as a guest in another’s household, watching people’s faces for every word and action.

Then it occurred to him: was Zhang Wenbi, by having him mind a child, trying to nudge him and Wutong toward having one of their own?

Zhang Xingjian smiled softly.

Zhang Wenbi’s voice softened. “What are you smiling at? Will you look after him for two days or not?”

Zhang Xingjian said, “I don’t like children.”

Zhang Wenbi frowned: if you don’t like them, how exactly are you and your wife supposed to have any?

Never mind, that was a matter for later. Everything in due course…

Zhang Wenbi said, “Watch him for two days, and you might just come to like it. Besides, I can see you have nothing else going on—can’t you help lighten my load a little?”

In his heart, Zhang Xingjian was willing.

But of course he couldn’t say so outright—he had his own way of handling his Second Sister.

Zhang Xingjian smiled. “I’ll only keep him two days. Once you’ve found him a new home, come and take him off my hands.”

Zhang Wenbi nodded.

Zhang Xingjian found, in fact, that looking after the child was rather fun. A man who so loved to play and laugh—how could he possibly object to something like this?

He thought that Shen Qingwu didn’t seem to like children much, and he himself never really played with them either… but with Shen Qingwu away, what harm was there in amusing himself for a couple of days?

Once Shen Qingwu came back, he’d simply send the child off.

While the Zhang family’s third son leisurely looked after a child in the capital, Shen Qingwu wiped out the bandits, faced down the local officials, and the Female Emperor’s arrest warrant arrived at the same time.

The matter was resolved smoothly, and she could now return to the capital.

But Shen Qingwu found herself troubled.

That young man named Zhang Nanping wanted to travel to the capital with them. This wasn’t strange in itself, since the scholar said he was going to sit for the exams.

The trouble was that one night, as Shen Qingwu stood gazing at the moon outside the posting station, lost in thought, she received a stammering, fumbling confession of love from Zhang Nanping, one that left her hackles raised in shock.

Shen Qingwu said, “I don’t accept.”

Zhang Nanping said, “This unworthy one understands, of course… I only wanted my lady to know my heart. Once I achieve success and renown, I will—I will certainly marry you. I mean what I say!”

Shen Qingwu said, “I already have a husband.”

Zhang Nanping actually blushed. “You said as much to that bandit—I heard you at the time. That was only an expedient stratagem, but I will take responsibility for it regardless.”

Shen Qingwu said, “I truly have a husband.”

Zhang Nanping said, “My lady needn’t invent such an excuse to refuse me.”

Shen Qingwu said, “I truly am married, and my husband’s surname truly is ‘Zhang.’ That was not merely a stratagem.”

Zhang Nanping said, “But my lady also said you broke your sweetheart’s leg with a kick—was that true as well, then?”

Shen Qingwu said, “…That, of course, was not true…”

Zhang Nanping smiled gently. “My lady said those things to subdue the enemy—this unworthy one understands. Rest assured, my lady, I won’t misunderstand.”

The next day, Shen Qingwu ordered her subordinates to move on with her, trying to shake the scholar off.

And yet, along the road that followed, her group ended up, quite by accident, rescuing the scholar once more on a mountain path. He truly was delicate—in the space of just a few days’ travel, how many times could one person get hurt…

When Shen Qingwu spoke again of abandoning him, everyone urged her not to be so heartless.

Shen Qingwu ignored them.

It wasn’t that she lacked heart. It was that if Zhang Xingjian ever learned what she’d been up to, it would be her turn to suffer for it.

And yet, unfortunately—

Shen Qingwu’s very indifference, her complete imperviousness, only made Zhang Nanping more devoted to her than ever.

He thought her unyielding and formidable, refined yet spirited—a truly heroic, unshakeable lady, more than capable of protecting him.

Shen Qingwu stared at the sky.

She decided to shake them all off and return to the capital ahead of everyone else, alone.

The sun stood high at noon.

Zhang Xingjian had finally received her letter and learned that Shen Qingwu would soon be back. His mood soared, and he had the servants quickly tidy up the courtyard.

The study window stood half open. Zhang Xingjian sat with the young child in his arms, smiling as he wiped the boy’s face and hands.

A moment earlier, the child had knocked over the ink and brushes on his desk, blackening an entire scroll beyond use. The child had trembled, tears falling nonstop, already imagining his fate—abandoned, unwanted.

But rather than scold him, Zhang Xingjian had simply laughed and laughed upon arriving.

He drew Chang Lin into laughing along with him. “Look at him, he’s turned himself into a little spotted cat.”

Chang Lin burst out laughing.

Zhang Xingjian’s temperament was gentle; little troubled him. How could he possibly be angry with a small child?

The timid child sat in his lap, and Zhang Xingjian listened as the boy explained how he’d knocked over the ink, still puzzled: “The desk is so high and you’re so short—how did you even climb up there?”

Seeing that he wasn’t angry, the child relaxed and chattered on in his childish way without pause.

Zhang Xingjian just smiled and told Chang Lin to bring a plate of pastries.

The child, arms around Zhang Xingjian’s neck, sighed contentedly. “Third Uncle, if only you were my father. If only I could live here forever…”

Zhang Xingjian feigned outrage. “That won’t do at all. I’m still so young—if I really had a child your age, wouldn’t that mean I had a child before I was even married? How would I ever get married then? Would I have to spend my whole life just relying on you?”

He spoke so amusingly that the child giggled.

Zhang Xingjian’s eyes curved with his smile.

Chang Lin came rushing in from outside. “Young master, young master! Trouble!”

Chang Lin leaned against the window, panting. “I think I just saw Shen Qingwu get off her horse—wasn’t she supposed to still be several days out?”

Zhang Xingjian was stunned. “Weren’t there still a few more days?”

He looked down at the child sitting in his lap, who blinked back at him, dazed.

Zhang Xingjian thought: if Wutong saw a child here with him, she might get the wrong idea…

He decided at once. “Quick, go hide.”

Chang Lin said, “There’s no time! Shen Qingwu is coming this way…”

Zhang Xingjian stood and tucked the child through a small hidden door behind a mechanism in the study’s bookshelf. “Shh, don’t make a sound. Third Uncle will let you out once he’s done…”

“Bang—”

The door burst open.

Shen Qingwu’s delighted voice rang out: “Zhang Yuelu—”

Zhang Xingjian turned around, and Shen Qingwu threw herself straight into him.

The child, hidden behind the shelf, watched wide-eyed as Third Uncle’s flowing sleeve flashed past the gap, and with a low, muffled thud, Third Uncle was pressed back against the bookshelf.

The child clicked his tongue inwardly: Third Aunt is really fierce.

Travel-worn from her journey, Shen Qingwu had reached the capital and finally felt truly eager to get home. She’d shaken off everyone else and hurried back early, wanting to surprise Zhang Xingjian.

The study door opened, and seeing that familiar figure with his back to her, Shen Qingwu couldn’t contain her joy. As he turned, she couldn’t help but leap at him, wrapping her legs around his waist, letting him catch her.

Zhang Xingjian’s eyes flickered, still not quite having caught up with what was happening.

Shen Qingwu tilted her face up to him. “Kiss me.”

Zhang Xingjian smiled, one hand cradling her, gently pushing her down. “How did you get back so fast? Go wash up first.”

Shen Qingwu said, “I already rinsed my mouth. I want a kiss.”

She tilted her face up, hanging in his arms, seeking a kiss, her long black hair brushing against his arm. A sheen of sweat broke out on Zhang Xingjian’s back, and his neck flushed faintly—the sight of her, eyes narrowed just so, stirred a rush of delight in him.

But… there was still a child behind him.

Zhang Xingjian smiled. “Let’s go back to our room.”

Shen Qingwu’s eyes flew open, and she looked at him with a blank expression.

She said, “You’ve hidden someone in the study.”

Zhang Xingjian’s scalp prickled. “No, I haven’t—”

Shen Qingwu said, “I can smell a scent on you that isn’t yours.”

Zhang Xingjian thought: my wife really does have a nose like a dog, doesn’t she.

Zhang Xingjian said gently, “Wutong, let’s go back to our room…”

Shen Qingwu leapt down from his arms, her face expressionless, and abruptly hauled him backward.

Zhang Xingjian only had time to blurt, “Don’t hurt anyone!”

Shen Qingwu split the bookshelf apart with a strike. Behind it, the child, pale as a sheet, found himself face to face with Shen Qingwu’s icy, chilling stare.

The child burst into terrified sobs and sank to the floor.

Shen Qingwu turned to look at Zhang Xingjian.

Her eyes spoke for her: are you out of your mind?

Hiding a child in the study, sneaking around like this—I thought you’d taken a mistress.

Zhang Xingjian sighed and admitted defeat. “Fine, I’m out of my mind.”

Seeing that Shen Qingwu clearly hadn’t the faintest notion that Zhang Wenbi had been hinting they should have a child of their own, he quietly relaxed.

Zhang Xingjian had the child taken outside, then gently, patiently, explained the whole story to Shen Qingwu.

Shen Qingwu understood.

She sat there in silence.

She found herself thinking back on that one moment of stillness she’d felt earlier—

When she’d thought Zhang Xingjian had betrayed her, she hadn’t actually felt angry. What she’d thought, instead, was: if he betrays me, I will end us both together.

The Zhang Xingjian she wanted had to belong to her completely and cleanly—belong to her in life and in death alike.

Shen Qingwu laid her own heart open to examine it: it turned out that even now, she was still, in her own way, extreme.

On the same bed, sunlight slanted in through the window.

Shen Qingwu sat at the edge of the bed, and Zhang Xingjian leaned in, bending to wrap his arms around her, coaxing her. “Are you angry with me?”

Shen Qingwu shook her head.

Zhang Xingjian lowered his head and stroked her face.

He soothed the feelings churning in her, saying sweet things to draw her attention elsewhere. “Wutong, did you rush back early just to see me? You’re so good to me, it makes me so happy.”

Shen Qingwu looked up, meeting his warm, tender gaze.

Her eyes shifted away.

After that farcical mix-up, she finally remembered her own guilty conscience—remembered the trouble that was Zhang Nanping.

Shen Qingwu said, “You’re happy too soon.”

Zhang Xingjian: “…?”