Zhang Xingjian thought Shen Qingwu’s words strange.

He pressed her. “Then what should I be so unhappy about?”

At that moment, Shen Qingwu still harbored a bit of wishful hope—that her subordinates had finally talked sense into Zhang Nanping, that he’d finally accepted the fact she was married. Or perhaps he’d had a change of heart, seeing all the dazzling beauties of the capital and suddenly deciding Shen Qingwu wasn’t worth pining over.

Or perhaps that unlucky fool Zhang Nanping had gotten himself hurt or into trouble yet again, and simply couldn’t make it to the capital at all.

Zhang Xingjian patted her cheek, calling her wandering mind back. “Wutong, are you even listening to me?”

Shen Qingwu made a small sound of acknowledgment.

She said, “Guess for yourself.”

With that, while Zhang Xingjian bent his head to think it over, she threw herself at him, biting his lip, biting his tongue, holding him close and ardent.

Zhang Xingjian froze for a moment, then, feeling the scorching breath against his cheek, felt his own heart heat up and open with delight.

He missed her terribly in his heart, but could never say so. He was lovesick to the point of illness; only when he received her fervor could he feel certain that Shen Qingwu was still his.

He let her nuzzle into his arms, let her lift her damp, questioning eyes to him, silently asking why he was holding himself back…

Zhang Xingjian, cheeks tight with restrained feeling, tipped her chin up with a finger and asked with a smile, “You like me best, don’t you?”

Shen Qingwu nodded.

The young man she held felt his body relax, and he bent to kiss her slowly, lingeringly. Shen Qingwu’s eyes narrowed, lashes trembling. There were times she liked this side of Zhang Xingjian taking the initiative.

Content to let things be, Shen Qingwu dreamed that Zhang Nanping would simply never show up at all.

Zhang Xingjian cherished her attachment to him, and lavished her with tenderness in return, coaxing her into complete compliance.

Only sometimes, half-joking, he’d pinch her and scold with affection: “Gone two or three months, and it’s as if you vanished entirely. I won’t let you out the door again—one of these days you’ll actually forget you have a husband.”

Shen Qingwu answered, “As if.”

But a couple of days later, Zhang Xingjian found himself thinking that perhaps, during her time away, she really had forgotten him.

Back in the capital, Shen Qingwu had everything handed to her—clothes put on her, meals brought to her mouth. This life of idle luxury had made her thoroughly lazy.

She hadn’t expected this kind of pleasant surprise: no wonder people said absence made a marriage sweeter than the wedding night itself.

For these two days Zhang Xingjian had been more indulgent with her than ever before. Ordinarily Shen Qingwu didn’t care for this kind of treatment, but when it came from Zhang Xingjian, she found it thrilling, and thoroughly enjoyed it.

And so, as extremes of joy tend to do, it all turned to trouble.

Zhang Xingjian discovered a scholar loitering constantly outside their residence gate.

At first Zhang Xingjian assumed the man was some poor scholar come to sit for the exams, hoping to find a connection to the Chancellor. He generally paid no attention to such things, and let the man linger outside as he pleased.

But then, when his covert operatives reported that Zhang Nanping had been asking around the black market about Shen Qingwu, Zhang Xingjian’s expression changed.

And so, every thread of the story Shen Qingwu had hoped to keep hidden was dug up, one by one.

Zhang Xingjian had never imagined that his own offhand remark would be carried out to the letter—that she really would come home having attracted some romantic entanglement.

“My devotion to you is witnessed by sun and moon, by heaven and earth—don’t you understand that?”

That night, two candle flames flickered, matched by the handful of stars beyond the window.

Shen Qingwu, most respectfully, offered Zhang Xingjian tea three times, and was refused three times. As she offered it a fourth time, she said these very words.

Zhang Xingjian’s expression eased somewhat—though she’d come home trailing romantic trouble, at least Shen Qingwu’s attitude toward admitting fault was commendable.

Infuriatingly, though, she hadn’t said anything sooner!

Reading his mood, Shen Qingwu hurried to add, “I like you—I was afraid you’d be angry, afraid you’d be hurt, that’s why I didn’t dare say it earlier.”

Zhang Xingjian, still faintly annoyed, paused.

He glared at her. “When did you learn to toss the word ‘like’ around so freely, using it to fool me?”

Shen Qingwu said earnestly, “It’s genuine feeling—how could that be fooling you?”

In her heart, though, she thought: I learned it from you.

Since marrying Zhang Xingjian, she’d gradually learned that saying certain things cost her nothing at all, while thoroughly muddling Zhang Xingjian’s head in the process—why wouldn’t she do it?

But this time, clearly, Zhang Xingjian wasn’t so easily fooled.

He tapped his long fingers on the table, signaling that she should explain herself clearly.

Shen Qingwu said, “There’s really nothing to explain. He insisted he liked me, and I felt nothing for him at all. If I’d had any feelings for him, would I have rushed back to the capital early to avoid him?”

Zhang Xingjian thought of her early return, of her ardor those two days.

His expression grew still. “Those two days, you kept throwing yourself at me—was that to make it up to me? To fool me?”

Shen Qingwu: “…”

Her silence told Zhang Xingjian he’d guessed correctly.

Zhang Xingjian: “…”

The veins on the back of his hand twitched faintly.

Sharp-eyed, Shen Qingwu said, “You’ve always had such a good temper—big enough to hold the whole sea, as they say about a Chancellor. Why can’t you let a small thing like this go?”

Zhang Xingjian said, “Good temper? Aren’t I petty and gloomy, scheming and calculating, cunning and dreadful?”

Shen Qingwu said, “That’s what you said about yourself, not what I said.”

Zhang Xingjian said, “Shen Qingwu!”

Shen Qingwu sighed.

She stood up.

Zhang Xingjian said, “Where are you going?”

She only went to shut the window properly, then came back, wrapped her arms around his neck, and settled into his lap. Bewildered, Zhang Xingjian let her, and she bent her head to kiss his lips.

Her hand slipped inside his robe.

Zhang Xingjian said, “That trick won’t work.”

Shen Qingwu said, “I’m not trying any trick. I’m just telling you—the person in my heart is you. Don’t waste your time on me worrying over some boring stranger.”

Zhang Xingjian fell silent for a long moment.

Then he said, “Qingmu told me that once, when Zhang Nanping nearly tripped on a mountain path, no one else noticed, but you caught him.”

Shen Qingwu thought: Qingmu is one of my own subordinates, and you’ve barely been back in the capital before you’ve dug up this much detail.

Shen Qingwu said, “I have sharp martial skill and sharp eyes, you know that.”

Zhang Xingjian said, unmoved, “But Qingmu said that after you steadied him, you let go immediately.”

Shen Qingwu, unshaken, said, “I’m very mindful of propriety—a proper lady who never sets foot beyond her own gate, I understand these things perfectly well. Of course I didn’t want my husband to misunderstand, but I couldn’t just let a man fall either. So I saved him and let go quickly.”

Zhang Xingjian said, “That’s not quite right, is it?”

Shen Qingwu said, “What’s not right about it?”

Zhang Xingjian said, “I’d guess that by the time you reached out to save him, Zhang Nanping had already confessed to you, and you already knew he liked you. You pulled back quickly because you were afraid of any misunderstanding. Knowing you as I do, if he hadn’t said anything, you never would have noticed he liked you at all.”

Inwardly, Shen Qingwu cursed him for being clever in exactly the wrong place.

Still, she held her ground.

Shen Qingwu said, “Even so, I did nothing wrong.”

Zhang Xingjian said, “True, if that were all, you’d be blameless. But I think there’s another possibility—that when he confessed to you, you were very surprised. Even as you knew you had to refuse him, you also grew curious, wanting to see what someone who liked you would actually look like.

“You’d been watching Zhang Nanping this whole time, watching his every move. That’s why, when he stumbled, you noticed before anyone else. Shen Qingwu, you’ve been watching him.”

Shen Qingwu: “…”

She had nothing to say.

She conceded defeat.

Zhang Xingjian smiled. “If you wanted to see what someone who likes you looks like, just look at me. Why bother looking at him?”

Shen Qingwu said, “That’s different.”

Zhang Xingjian said, “How is it different?”

Shen Qingwu said, “What you like is the real me—the true self even I hadn’t seen in myself. You weren’t moved by the shallow surface I present, my looks, my martial skill, my standing as a woman general—none of that matters to you.

“You loved my soul first, and only later loved everything about me. But Zhang Nanping first liked the surface version of me—that formidable woman general.

“He doesn’t know what I’m really like underneath, doesn’t understand the whole of me. I know that once he realizes how strange I really am, he’ll be scared off.

“So I fell into the mistake every woman in the world falls into: no one had ever shown they liked me before, and I was curious what that would feel like. That’s why I looked at him a little longer than I should have.”

Zhang Xingjian was struck speechless.

He pointed at her, unable to find words for a long moment.

What utter nonsense! When had this woman—normally so poor with words—learned to argue her way out of things so glibly?

And “every woman in the world,” no less!

Zhang Xingjian was clearly angry, and yet he also found her, like this, endearing.

His heart raced and his fingers went numb over how endearing and honest she was being.

And so he grew even more irritated at himself for finding her endearing.

He slumped backward in defeat, and Shen Qingwu kept her arms locked around his neck, refusing to let go.

She kissed him. “Don’t be angry.”

She said, “I’m just not as clever as you.”

Zhang Xingjian opened his eyes. “Clever how?”

Shen Qingwu said, “I’m not like you—you always know exactly what you want. Life’s path is long; I’m bound to make mistakes along the way.”

Zhang Xingjian’s gaze flickered.

He asked, “You think that’s ‘cleverness’? That’s a kind of tragedy—the tragedy of being too clear-eyed about yourself—and you actually envy it? Are you a fool or not?”

“I don’t care,” Shen Qingwu said. “You can call it clear-sightedness; I’ll call it cleverness. I like you exactly as you are—no one else compares.”

Her tone barely changed as she said this, and yet Zhang Xingjian could feel himself conceding, step by step.

Between her kisses and coaxing, he finally let his guard down and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Shen Qingwu said softly, “No one has ever pursued me like that before—it was just a bit of curiosity. I haven’t done anything to wrong you, don’t worry.”

Zhang Xingjian, startled, said, “You really think no one’s ever pursued you like that before?”

Assuming he was simply deep in jealousy, Shen Qingwu quickly added, “Besides you.”

Zhang Xingjian looked at her for a long moment.

Zhang Xingjian thought to himself: I really do pity Yang Su.

Yang Su’s affection had been so openly displayed, and yet you paid it not the slightest heed. And then some passerby like Zhang Nanping shows up, and you can’t even walk straight…

Zhang Xingjian said, “Then tell me—how exactly did things start between you and Zhang Nanping?”

Shen Qingwu said, “Nothing started. Are you still jealous?”

Zhang Xingjian closed his eyes and shook his head.

He murmured, “Know yourself and know your enemy, and you’ll win every battle.”

Before Shen Qingwu could respond, he reached out and covered her mouth with his hand.

He said, “If you don’t want to infuriate me to death, don’t say any more clumsy nonsense. Just answer whatever I ask.”

Shen Qingwu nodded.

And so, dryly and plainly, she recounted the little that had passed between them. Zhang Xingjian listened calmly, treating her as though she were one of the enemies he was accustomed to interrogating. Whenever she tried to skim past some part, he’d stop her and make her tell it again.

He was meticulous and sharp; no thread of detail escaped him. He only had to listen once to catch where the holes were.

By the time she finished, half an hour had passed.

Shen Qingwu, utterly exhausted, her mouth dry, curled against his chest with her arms around his neck, said weakly, “See? That’s really all there was to it. You should feel reassured now, shouldn’t you?”

Having heard the whole account, Zhang Xingjian was, in fact, reassured.

His smile came back, and his gentleness with it.

But there was still one thing he didn’t quite understand: “At the very start, why did you look at him a second longer?”

Worn out by the interrogation, Shen Qingwu, drowsy, yawned and murmured, “I thought it was you.”

Zhang Xingjian froze.

Shen Qingwu mumbled, “He shares your surname too… I thought you’d come looking for me.”

Zhang Xingjian’s hand around her waist tightened.

He said softly, “Wutong, you know I can’t leave the capital.”

Shen Qingwu said, “Mm. But you’re resourceful—it’s not as if you’ve never done something unconventional before… I really thought you’d secretly slipped out of the capital to find me.”

She lifted her head to look at him.

His eyes were already brimming with tenderness, with pity.

The hand stroking her cheek had gone very gentle.

Inwardly, Shen Qingwu gloated, pulling a mental face at herself: I really am something. I actually talked my way out of that one.

Zhang Xingjian no longer held any of it against her now. He held her close, and murmured his last remaining worry against her ear: “If he comes to the door wanting to see you, what will you do?”

Shen Qingwu said, “I won’t see him, obviously.”

Zhang Xingjian’s heart settled.

He asked, “And if he insists?”

Shen Qingwu considered his meaning and offered, “I’ll beat him up and throw him out?”

Zhang Xingjian laughed.

His brows relaxed, and he chided her lightly. “Don’t be so uncouth.”

But the laughter kept bubbling in his chest, and the look in his eyes made it plain to Shen Qingwu: he was satisfied with that answer.

Shen Qingwu thought: as long as you’re happy.

She looked at this man putting on such an act and said, “You don’t need to worry about the rest. I’ll handle it.”

Sincerely, she added, “As long as you’re happy.”

That Zhang Nanping, though he mattered less to Zhang Xingjian than Bo Rong had, put him more on guard than Yang Su ever had.

Bo Rong’s heart had never been set on Shen Qingwu, and besides, the man was already dead. Zhang Xingjian firmly believed he alone was Shen Qingwu’s one true love—Bo Rong could never measure up to him.

But this Zhang Nanping… he seemed to genuinely like Shen Qingwu.

Zhang Nanping asked around about Shen Qingwu’s past, and from the idle gossip circulating through the capital’s teahouses, pieced together the whole tangled history between Zhang Xingjian and Shen Qingwu.

Zhang Xingjian expected Zhang Nanping to simply give up and drift away, disappointed: the bond between Zhang Yuelu and Shen Qingwu spanned a long stretch of time, etched into both their very bones and blood. What could Zhang Nanping possibly offer to compete with that?

But then, from his covert operatives’ reports, Zhang Xingjian learned that Zhang Nanping hadn’t given up at all—he’d actually gone loitering around the Imperial Guard’s camp, hoping to see Shen Qingwu.

Zhang Xingjian had someone ply Zhang Nanping with wine, and ended up hearing his unguarded, heartfelt words:

“How could that Zhang Xingjian possibly be worthy of you, General Shen? Lady Shen, you’re being foolish. In his youth he coaxed and deceived you once, twice—who’s to say he won’t wrong you again in the future?”

“Lady Shen, he isn’t the only man in this world. If I were in his position, I would never have treated you that way. And now he keeps you trapped here in the capital—is that really for your own good? If he truly loved you, he’d let you go free… How can you be so foolish?”

Zhang Xingjian’s expression stayed calm.

But the hand hidden in his sleeve had clenched white.

There was a demon in his heart, one he kept under control year after year, never letting it loose to wreak havoc on the world. Zhang Nanping had unknowingly seen straight into it—

The events of that rainy autumn night in the nineteenth year of Tianlong were the demon at the root of his heart, the reason his chest still ached at every clap of thunder to this day.

He too sometimes felt the whole thing had been like a dream.

And when the dream ended, he still felt, at times, as if he were trapped back in that rain, watching her walk resolutely away.

He told himself, over and over, that it wasn’t so—and yet he still felt, deep down, that keeping Shen Qingwu here in the capital with him was, in truth, unfair to her.

A free-flying hawk, caged in the capital—would there come a day when she broke free and flew away?

Could love alone really let him keep Shen Qingwu forever?

Zhang Xingjian decided he would meet this Zhang Nanping, who kept lingering outside their gate, always looking for a chance to see Shen Qingwu.

Shen Qingwu heard of his intention.

Shen Qingwu said, “Huh?”

She was in the courtyard practicing her swordplay, and turned back to look at him with curiosity. Her refined, elegant husband wanted to change out of his usual fine silks and have Chang Lin find him the plain scholar’s robe of a commoner.

Zhang Xingjian noticed the bright, mischievous sparkle in her dark eyes and smiled. “What, do you have some wisdom to share?”

Shen Qingwu said, “Why do you even need to meet him?”

Zhang Xingjian feigned outrage. “To help you deal with this romantic entanglement, obviously.”

Seeing Chang Lin approaching with an armful of clothing, Shen Qingwu immediately bounded over, eager. “Let me help you change!”

She dragged Zhang Xingjian off back to their room.

The plainer and simpler the fabric, the more it set off his bearing.

Why bother with fine silks and jade when this elegant young man could sit himself down at a village entrance in a plain scholar’s robe and have every marriageable woman for miles crowding around, eager to take him in and keep him fed?

Seeing the way she looked at him, Zhang Xingjian knew perfectly well she was infatuated with him dressed this way.

Zhang Xingjian rubbed his chin, musing. “When I married you, I never imagined I’d see a day like this.”

Distracted, Shen Qingwu tied his sash while secretly stroking his waist, her mind churning over how to get him out of his clothes again, and answered him absently: “What was it like then, and what’s it like now?”

Zhang Xingjian said, “I never imagined that at my age, I’d still have to compete with another man over such a mess.”

Shen Qingwu blinked, then burst out laughing at his teasing.

Zhang Xingjian pinched her chin. “Still laughing! You really are heartless, aren’t you. Indeed, our Wutong has such a big heart that even if you drove your own husband to death one day, you’d go right on living quite comfortably.”

The more amusingly he talked, the harder Shen Qingwu laughed, tipping her head back, doubling over into his arms.

And so Zhang Xingjian went to meet Zhang Nanping.

He did not reveal his identity.

While Zhang Nanping sat in a tavern, sighing as he gazed toward the Chancellor’s residence, Zhang Xingjian appeared without fanfare and sat down at his table.

Zhang Xingjian said with a smile, “Why the long sighs, friend? Something troubling you?”

Zhang Nanping looked up and saw a young man with a face as fair as jade.

Zhang Nanping answered evasively, “This unworthy one is merely here for the capital exams. Nothing troubling.”

Zhang Xingjian smiled. “Here for the exams? I am too, as it happens.”

Perched on the eaves, listening to his master lie through his teeth, Chang Lin’s mouth twitched: at your age…

But Zhang Nanping warmed to him at once. “Is that so! This unworthy one has only just come of age this year—may I ask how old you are, friend?”

Zhang Xingjian, at the time, was twenty-eight years old.

He answered, “I came of age just last year.”

Chang Lin’s mouth twitched again.

But Zhang Nanping believed him entirely. “I thought we must be close in age.”

Zhang Xingjian’s eyes curved with amusement.

Sitting for the exams… the year he’d placed first in the exams, he hadn’t even come of age yet. After that came the negotiations with the Western Di, and then meeting Shen Qingwu…

Zhang Xingjian decided he wasn’t really lying, not exactly.

Zhang Nanping said, “Then I’m younger than you—what should I call you, friend?”

Zhang Xingjian thought it over. “I’m the third-born in my family.”

And so Zhang Nanping came to believe he’d made the acquaintance of a perfectly ordinary “Zhang the Third.”

Zhang Xingjian’s talent for deception was truly formidable.

Within just two days, Zhang Nanping had poured out all his troubles to him.

Zhang Xingjian, meanwhile, was taking the man’s measure: not as handsome as himself, not as refined in looks, not as distinguished in background, and his temperament… seemed to be someone with very little backbone of his own.

The trouble was, Zhang Nanping, believing they’d grown close, never spoke of his studies at all—every other word out of his mouth was “Shen Qingwu,” which privately needled Zhang Xingjian no end.

Zhang Nanping said, “Do you know of the Second Miss Shen? Never mind, you surely haven’t heard of her. No point telling you.”

Zhang Xingjian said mildly, “As it happens, I know her quite well. Why don’t you tell me anyway.”

Zhang Nanping said, “And Zhang Xingjian, then? You definitely don’t know him. How would scholars like you and me ever cross paths with someone of his standing…”

Zhang Xingjian said, “Ahem, my family has some connections. As it happens, I know him quite well too.”

Zhang Nanping eyed him sidelong. “I’ve noticed you have quite a habit of boasting!”

Zhang Xingjian smiled.

Zhang Xingjian steered him along. “This Second Miss Shen—I really do know her. But she’s already married. Why do you keep pursuing her regardless?”

Zhang Nanping said, “When have I ever pursued her? I only want to see her once more, to tell her the truth about her husband’s real character. General Shen never knew my true feelings—she’s only ever met one kind of man, and got deceived so young…”

Zhang Xingjian’s grip on his cup tightened.

He kept his smile in place.

Zhang Xingjian said, “Then why do you like her?”

Zhang Nanping, bashful, said, “She’s remarkably skilled in martial arts, and she’s saved me time and again—she’s truly kind-hearted. I pursue letters, she pursues the martial path—don’t you think that’s fate itself?”

Zhang Xingjian said, “If you’re short a bodyguard, I could fund one for you, friend.”

Zhang Nanping said, “You’re wealthy, then?”

Zhang Xingjian said, bashfully, “Not especially—enough to get by.”

Zhang Nanping said, “That’s not at all the same thing!”

Zhang Xingjian said, “How is it different? Oh, if you’d prefer a female bodyguard, I could help find you one too. All you really like is that she protects you, after all.”

Zhang Nanping said, “You don’t understand at all! You’re not me, you’ve never even met General Shen. Her martial skill is one thing, but she’s also kind, earnest, unwilling to hurt anyone’s feelings…”

Zhang Xingjian fell silent.

He could, in fact, have rattled off in an instant a whole list of Shen Qingwu’s quirks that others found strange.

But her flaws were exactly what drew him to her in the first place.

Even facing a romantic rival, Zhang Xingjian had no wish to drive the man off this way.

He was quiet for a moment.

Then he said, “Let me tell you a story too.”

They were sitting at a late-night wonton stall. The two of them ordered two bowls of wonton, looking for all the world like two poor scholars putting on airs of grandeur.

The night was deep, and a dog barked somewhere.

Just as Zhang Nanping was about to decline the story, commotion suddenly broke out ahead—bandits robbing someone—and the stall owner hurriedly began packing up.

Zhang Nanping pulled Zhang Xingjian to his feet, excited. “Do you think the Imperial Guard will come to handle this? Might I get to see General Shen?”

Zhang Xingjian’s eyelid twitched.

Zhang Xingjian said, “It’s not always the Imperial Guard who handles these things, and besides, the Guard has many commanders—the General Shen you speak of is the highest commander of all, she doesn’t usually show up for something like this out in the open…”

And yet Zhang Xingjian was already trying to pull Zhang Nanping away.

Because he knew his wife was outside the palace tonight.

Zhang Nanping broke free of his grip, his eyes lighting with delight, and dashed straight toward the commotion. “It’s General Shen! Lady Shen! Lady Shen, it’s me, it’s me…”

Shen Qingwu was in the midst of handling the civil disturbance in her usual methodical way.

She heard someone calling out to her.

She turned to look behind her.

Zhang Nanping straightened his robes, adjusted his hairpin, and said, somewhat nervously, “Second Miss Shen, it’s been a long time—you still remember me, don’t you?”

Shen Qingwu said nothing.

The guards beside her said nothing either.

Shen Qingwu slid her blade back into its sheath.

She said, “Husband, what are you doing here?”

She deliberately enunciated the word “husband” with great clarity.

Zhang Nanping looked utterly lost.

The guards at Shen Qingwu’s side bowed as one, heads lowered respectfully: “Chancellor Zhang.”

Zhang Nanping’s entire body went rigid.

Dazed, he turned to look behind him, and saw the elegant young man strolling leisurely up.

In the dim night, Zhang Nanping murmured, “Zhang the Third… Zhang Yuelu… ah. How did I not realize sooner… you’d been hinting at it all this time, even offering to tell me a story…”

And there he’d been, badmouthing Shen Qingwu’s own husband right to his face—and even declaring he meant to steal her away!