Zhang Xingjian sat with Old Jiang in the study, playing go.

Every time they played, Old Jiang would get so absorbed in discussing state affairs that he’d often forget the piece in his hand.

There was no other reason for it — Old Jiang simply didn’t enjoy playing go with this particular student.

This student’s game was poor; matches dragged on forever, and he lost more often than not… playing go with Zhang Xingjian left one with no sense of accomplishment at all, only irritation.

Better to talk politics instead.

Old Jiang shared his impression of Li Linge: “Years ago, back in the Eastern Capital, I only ever heard her name, never witnessed her deeds. Now that I’ve settled here for so many years, ever since the north-south division last year, even in this backwater we’ve started hearing about the new decrees the princess issues.”

Zhang Xingjian said, “What does my teacher make of it?”

Old Jiang considered his words. “There’s a certain boldness to it, things never tried before. Take the great river’s earlier flood-breach — the court had always been slow to repair it, but since the princess arrived, the work’s moved along much faster. Zhang Yuelu, you’ve spent all these years in that Eastern Capital circle — why didn’t you push His Majesty to reinforce the dikes?”

Old Jiang gave his student a somewhat reproachful look.

Zhang Xingjian gave a light smile.

This teacher of his — a man of vast learning, full of lofty ideals, thoroughly a scholar at heart, yet utterly unfit for office. He only knew what was good for the people, not how to actually implement it in a way that would satisfy most of them.

This was also precisely why Old Jiang, for all his learning, had ultimately resigned his post to live in seclusion.

Zhang Xingjian said gently, “Reinforcing the dikes looks like a good thing on the surface, but it isn’t necessarily so. One would first need to control the layer upon layer of exploitation among officials before the dikes could truly be built properly. His Majesty, not yet enthroned, has always loved money and begrudged spending it, so he wanted the officials to cover the cost themselves… and officials who live tens of thousands of li from the great river, who’ve never felt the people’s suffering firsthand, naturally find every excuse to pass the burden along.

“So the great river floods year after year, and year after year the problem goes unsolved. I originally intended to resolve it myself…”

Sideline the emperor, halt the war, let the court become his alone to command — only then could he do what truly needed doing.

Zhang Xingjian mused, “But now…”

Old Jiang finished for him, “But now, the princess is the one doing it.”

A silence fell.

Old Jiang asked, puzzled, “Could it be that she’s planning to wage war, and worried the river breaking its banks would disrupt the campaign, so she’s tending to it beforehand?”

Zhang Xingjian smiled faintly. “Teacher, you taught me this yourself — judge by actions, not by intentions.”

So he didn’t put much stock in Li Linge’s silver tongue.

He would judge for himself.

He looked slowly out the window, deep in thought. “Besides, Li Linge has kept herself hidden for so many years — she must genuinely have been concealing her true abilities all this time…”

The Li Linge who’d left the Eastern Capital, and the Li Linge who’d been trapped there — they were entirely different people.

Zhang Xingjian said, “I still have a few more places to visit after this. Does my teacher have any other students, or friends, I might call on? I’d like to ask for an introduction…”

Old Jiang said, “Still trying to learn more about this Li Linge? Hoping to probe from the sidelines? If you want to observe her among the common people, you’ll need some influence to work with. Let me think…”

As the two of them talked these matters through, Zhang Xingjian let Old Jiang mull it over, his own gaze drifting through the half-open window to an ancient, densely green scholar tree in the courtyard.

There, he spotted Shen Qingwu, leaning against a branch.

Shen Qingwu leaned back against the trunk, eyes closed, apparently practicing some technique or other, sunlight filtering through the gaps in the leaves, dappling her in wave after wave of shifting light.

Under that sea of light, now bright, now dim, loose strands of hair brushed against her cheek.

Her hair was disheveled, her closed brow and eyes utterly serene — that striking contrast of beauty settled on one person left Zhang Xingjian occasionally distracted, forgetting what he’d even been doing.

It was at that moment that Jiang Runiang came in carrying tea and pastries.

Her face was pale and slightly swollen; she’d used powder to conceal the dark circles beneath her eyes, her lips a lovely petal red.

Jiang Runiang had no idea what had upset her stomach so badly, had spent an entire day lying down; the next day, rising and holding up a mirror to check her own reflection, even she found herself pitiable and touching. Surely such beauty could move her father’s student’s heart?

The first time she’d laid eyes on Zhang Xingjian on this visit, she’d flushed red to her ears, her heart already given over to him.

Now, carrying in the tea and pastries, Jiang Runiang lingered by the table, speaking softly, introducing her pastries to her father and Third Young Master Zhang. But Zhang Xingjian only nodded politely in greeting, his gaze sliding past her face and pausing elsewhere for a moment.

Jiang Runiang’s heart pounded, thinking he’d finally noticed her beauty — only to see him, as though recalling something, hide a faint, obscure smile in his eyes.

He glanced toward the window again.

Since Jiang Runiang had come in with the pastries, Zhang Xingjian had already looked toward that window seven or eight times.

What was out there?

Jiang Runiang deliberately angled herself to linger longer, while Old Jiang watched his daughter’s fussing with weary resignation. As Jiang Runiang bent to pour tea beside Zhang Xingjian, she suddenly glanced up — and finally—

From the angle where Zhang Xingjian sat, she saw Shen Qingwu on the old scholar tree, eyes closed, apparently asleep.

Jiang Runiang’s heart skipped a beat—

Who was Shen Qingwu, exactly?

Jiang Runiang, who’d never lived in the Eastern Capital, had never heard anything of the old history between Shen Qingwu and Zhang Xingjian. She simply assumed this female general had been sent by the princess to keep an eye on her poor, unlucky Third Brother.

Though she’d sensed something faintly odd from the very first meeting.

After probing repeatedly, though, she’d concluded there was likely nothing between Zhang Xingjian and this female general.

The kind of woman Third Young Master Zhang would like ought to be beautiful, refined, someone clever enough to add elegance to his life and smooth over the chaos of his household. Someone like his father’s mention of Zhang Xingjian’s former fiancée, or someone like… herself.

Whatever the case, it surely couldn’t be someone like Shen Qingwu.

Shen Qingwu believed Jiang Runiang was targeting her — but in truth, Jiang Runiang hadn’t been targeting her at all. Jiang Runiang had merely been… trying to showcase herself, to present herself well.

Shen Qingwu had simply been cast, without meaning to be, as the foil against which Jiang Runiang shone.

It was on this very morning, watching Zhang Xingjian glance again and again toward the window, that the proud and clever Jiang Runiang first truly felt a sense of threat—

And so, Jiang Runiang genuinely began seeking Shen Qingwu out.

Over the following days, whenever Shen Qingwu tried to slip away and rest, Jiang Runiang and her maids would inevitably track her down.

This young lady always came bearing pastries, but Shen Qingwu no longer had any appetite for them. What she disliked, she wouldn’t touch.

But Jiang Runiang kept stopping her, sighing wistfully as she shared her girlish troubles. “General, Third Brother and I haven’t seen each other in years. Now that we’ve reunited, I find he’s changed so much. He used to be much warmer toward me than he is now.”

Shen Qingwu’s reply was, “His true nature is probably showing now.”

Zhang Xingjian, warm?

Whatever warmth he’d had was probably a brief thing, confined to his youthful, unknowing years.

Jiang Runiang choked on that.

Jiang Runiang said, “General, since you’ve been traveling with Third Brother, have you learned anything about his new preferences?”

Blushing, she hinted to the female general: “Like what he enjoys eating these days, what he enjoys doing for fun… as his host, I want to entertain Third Brother properly.”

Shen Qingwu said, “I’m not his servant. How would I know what he likes or dislikes?”

Jiang Runiang: “…”

Jiang Runiang tried again, undeterred. “Then could the general help ask around for me — about Third Brother and me…”

Shen Qingwu said, “I’m not his superior officer either. I can’t order him to do anything.”

Jiang Runiang was left entirely speechless.

She realized Shen Qingwu simply didn’t understand her hints at all, didn’t grasp what she was really trying to say. Shen Qingwu’s expression stayed so indifferent throughout that Jiang Runiang genuinely couldn’t understand why Third Young Master Zhang kept looking her way so often.

Was it her looks?

A female general had never lived off her looks.

Besides, Shen Qingwu was so tall and rangy that Jiang Runiang had to tilt her head back just to speak to her… surely men the world over preferred softer, more delicate women who could lean on them like a little bird?

Unable to work out the relationship between the two of them, Jiang Runiang probed according to her own theory. “When I was little, back in the Eastern Capital, one Lantern Festival, I went to see the lantern show, and on the way back I even climbed the wall to bring Third Brother a lantern.”

Shen Qingwu, who’d already been planning to shake off this young woman and walk away alone, stopped in her tracks and turned back to look at Jiang Runiang.

Zhang Xingjian, as a child?

Shen Qingwu admitted to herself she was curious.

Jiang Runiang’s eyes softened with fond memory. “My father and I were staying with their family at the time. Their walls were so tall. Sister Wenbi — that’s Third Brother’s elder sister — never let me go find Third Brother to play. She wouldn’t even let him go out for the Lantern Festival; my father took me out to enjoy the festivities, and he had to stay home reviewing his books…

“I brought the lantern back for Third Brother, and he was so happy. He held my hand and talked with me all night, said I was the most adorable girl in the world. I thought, back then, I felt…”

She’d truly wanted to marry Third Young Master Zhang.

Jiang Runiang’s expression dimmed.

Unfortunately, the very next day, Zhang Wenbi discovered her resting in Zhang Xingjian’s courtyard and had her father take her home. She’d heard that Zhang Xingjian was punished by his sister for a long while afterward.

What the punishment had been, Jiang Runiang never knew.

She only knew that after that, she almost never saw Zhang Xingjian again. On the rare occasions she did, he was distant and reserved, never showing her that old warmth again.

Jiang Runiang privately blamed Zhang Wenbi for ruining her bond with Third Brother, yet also felt a certain relief — it was precisely because Zhang Wenbi had “broken up the young lovers” time and again that she, now grown, had finally been able to reunite with the still-unmarried Zhang Xingjian.

Speaking of Zhang Xingjian’s second elder sister, Jiang Runiang privately felt a certain fear of her.

As Jiang Runiang sat lost in these thoughts, Shen Qingwu suddenly asked, “What are you thinking about?”

Jiang Runiang startled, staring at her.

Shen Qingwu walked toward her.

Tall and lean, with cold, indifferent brows and jet-black eyes, the female general approaching like this carried a distinctly sharp, imposing air.

Jiang Runiang shrank back a timid step. “I, I…”

Shen Qingwu looked down at her. “Zhang Xingjian is mine.”

Jiang Runiang’s mind went completely blank.

It took her a long moment to even process the words.

Shen Qingwu said, “I know what you’re thinking. Let me make this clear: he’s mine. Don’t touch him. If you do, the consequences are on you.”

Jiang Runiang trembled. “Yours, meaning…”

Shen Qingwu said, “I’ve slept with him.”

Jiang Runiang’s face instantly went ashen.

Shen Qingwu said, “More than once.”

Jiang Runiang began biting her lip, hard enough to draw blood.

Watching Jiang Runiang’s tearful, stricken expression, Shen Qingwu decided she’d made herself perfectly clear. Hard-hearted as she was, she felt nothing troubling about any of this — only that she’d solved a problem, and felt lighter for it.

Dealing with a woman infatuated with Zhang Xingjian?

How simple.

As Shen Qingwu turned to walk away, she heard the fragile, nearly fainting Jiang Runiang force out, in a trembling, hoarse voice, “You must have mistreated Third Brother!”

Shen Qingwu scoffed.

Jiang Runiang said, “You — you won’t come to a good end… Sister Wenbi will never let you through the Zhang family’s doors! Sister Wenbi is far too formidable!”

Shen Qingwu glanced back at her.

Shen Qingwu said flatly, “You’re afraid of Zhang Wenbi. I never have been.”

Zhang Xingjian had covered for her on that front — told her that his sister knew about the two of them, and although displeased, she needed something from Zhang Xingjian regarding Bo Rong, who was still being held, and so wouldn’t say anything to Shen Qingwu about it.

Shen Qingwu had also heard that the Zhang family’s doors were notoriously hard to enter. She knew, too, that Zhang Xingjian had deliberately made light of it.

But it didn’t matter.

She didn’t care.

She couldn’t be certain of her own heart, couldn’t guarantee she’d ever actually marry Zhang Xingjian.

But if she ever were certain—

Then to the ends of the earth, no one could take Zhang Xingjian from her.

If she ever were certain—

And the Zhang family refused to let her in, she’d simply take Zhang Xingjian and run far away with him.

Shen Qingwu was a scoundrel anyway — there was nothing she wouldn’t do—

Jiang Runiang stumbled back to her room in a daze, and cried for a long while.

Her heart ached for Zhang Xingjian, a man as pure and radiant as snow and moonlight, ruined by that bandit-like woman Shen Qingwu.

It must have been Shen Qingwu who forced herself on him!

It must have been Shen Qingwu who coerced him!

Especially when, gathering her spirits enough to say goodnight to her father, Jiang Runiang learned from him that Zhang Xingjian would be leaving in a few days, wouldn’t be staying at their home much longer.

Jiang Runiang grew anxious at once.

She wanted to keep Zhang Xingjian here.

Only by keeping him here did she have any chance at all. If he left… her father would never let her go to the Eastern Capital, and Zhang Wenbi would certainly never open the Zhang family’s doors to her—

The new day arrived, and Shen Qingwu practiced her sword forms in the courtyard set apart from the main quarters.

The sky hung gray and overcast; she spent the entire morning practicing.

She didn’t use her internal energy, to avoid straining her injuries, but she also didn’t want to hurt herself over a few simple leaps and bounds. And she feared worsening her wounds and delaying their journey.

As she trained, she kept her mind quiet, turning over the question of the apology Zhang Xingjian wanted.

She genuinely loved training.

It was the one thing she excelled at, the one thing that gave her peace of mind. The stronger her skill grew, the less anyone dared bully her. She loved that feeling.

But apologizing to Zhang Xingjian… she’d never done such a thing in her life.

Twenty-some years of habit weighed down on her; she could barely describe the sensation of trying to break free of it, and it even stirred in her a fear that had no business existing.

Breaking an oath left her uneasy; apologizing felt just as much like shackles binding her.

Layer upon layer of restraint had settled over her, keeping her circling within a fixed boundary year after year. Zhang Xingjian envied her freedom, but Shen Qingwu had paid a great deal for that freedom too.

Shen Qingwu no longer even knew how ordinary people lived their lives.

Sweat gathered in her palm where she gripped the hilt of her blade.

A rumble of thunder seemed to roll across the sky, and she abruptly stopped her training.

She looked up at the sky, frowning, wondering whether she’d truly heard thunder or merely imagined it in a moment of distraction.

The sky hung gray, clouds pressing low — it looked as though rain was coming.

Shen Qingwu decided to stop training and go find Zhang Xingjian.

She didn’t know whether he was still afraid of thunder.

She’d told him she’d protect him — even while he was still angry with her, she would still protect him—

The moment a low rumble of thunder rolled across the horizon, Zhang Xingjian, who was discussing state affairs with his teacher, went suddenly pale, his body convulsing as he lost his balance.

His hand shot out to brace himself against the desk, fingertips trembling slightly.

Old Jiang, startled, said, “Zhang Yuelu, what’s the matter?”

This student of his had broken into a sweat in the space of an instant.

Zhang Xingjian was dazed for a moment, forcing himself to bear the sudden stab of pain that had struck him, telling himself it was only an illusion. Shen Qingwu had already broken her oath, had already agreed to be with him…

So why hadn’t his affliction healed?

Could it be that, deep down, he was still afraid of losing her?

Zhang Xingjian watched his own heart with cold detachment, clear-eyed as he observed himself sinking deeper into this sea of feeling. In the past he’d tried to pull himself back from it; now he found he didn’t much mind sinking further.

He had Shen Qingwu now.

Zhang Xingjian told himself that Shen Qingwu agreeing to be with him meant things were different now.

He repeated this to himself two or three times in his mind, and the pain in his body finally eased somewhat.

Perhaps it was simply that the thunder didn’t sound again, giving Zhang Xingjian back a little of his strength.

He looked up and smiled at Old Jiang. “Let’s leave it here for today. I have something to attend to — I need to find General Shen to discuss it.”

Old Jiang blinked, then rose to his feet as well. “In that case, this old man will come along too. I’m quite curious myself what that princess is up to…”

Zhang Xingjian’s lips parted, but in the end he couldn’t bring himself to refuse.

His teacher, after all — and he was a guest under this roof—

While Zhang Xingjian and Old Jiang made their way at an unhurried pace to find Shen Qingwu, Jiang Runiang, trailed by her maids and servants, carrying a neat stack of folded women’s garments, stepped into Shen Qingwu’s courtyard.

Shen Qingwu, distracted, was sheathing her blade — but she put too much force into it, and the blade slammed sideways instead of sliding cleanly into the scabbard.

Shen Qingwu snapped back to attention.

She watched the blade go flying toward the moon-gate, heard a woman’s scream, and saw Jiang Runiang, deathly pale, eyes wide with terror.

Shen Qingwu’s brow furrowed.

Jiang Runiang stood some distance away, and with Zhang Xingjian having warned her not to use her internal energy, in that split second Shen Qingwu could only manage to stomp down hard on the scabbard, sending it flying after the loose blade.

Shen Qingwu was confident in her own skill.

Though the scabbard trailed behind, from the angle she’d thrown it, it would strike precisely against the side of the blade. Once that cold steel was struck by the scabbard, it would stop its forward path, with no chance of striking Jiang Runiang.

The blade was struck by the scabbard.

Jiang Runiang stood frozen in place — everything had happened too fast, and no one behind her had reacted in time. The blade, aimed straight at her, seemed for an instant to falter, veering slightly, grazing past her.

All in a flash of an instant.

Afterward, even Jiang Runiang couldn’t quite explain why she’d done something so foolish in that moment.

She only knew she wanted to keep Zhang Xingjian here… if she were injured, would he stay to look after her?

Shen Qingwu watched, wide-eyed, as this dull, slow-witted young woman suddenly took a trembling step forward, lunging toward the flying blade.

Shen Qingwu watched coldly.

The scabbard she’d thrown had been carefully controlled in both force and direction — there was no way the blade’s edge could have hurt anyone. Jiang Runiang, a delicate woman with no combat training, had lunged forward as if paralyzed with fright, and the blade grazed across her face.

She felt a sudden heat across her cheek.

She raised a hand to touch it, and saw blood-red fingers.

Jiang Runiang murmured, “Blood…”

She staggered backward—

Old Jiang and Zhang Xingjian hadn’t yet reached the moon-gate when they heard the commotion from that direction.

The two exchanged a glance and quickened their pace.

Shen Qingwu stood in the courtyard, watching the servants support Jiang Runiang. Jiang Runiang sat weakly on the ground, covering half her face, weeping.

The servants, in a flurry of angry words, turned on Shen Qingwu:

“You hurt our young lady, how dare you!”

“Our young lady kindly prepared clothes for you out of goodwill, and you repay her with cruelty!”

“You clearly saw our young lady! You meant to kill her!”

Jiang Runiang sobbed softly.

Things seemed to be unfolding in a direction she hadn’t quite anticipated, but she sat slumped on the ground crying, making no move to stop it.

Jiang Runiang only heard Shen Qingwu’s cold voice: “I didn’t kill anyone, and I didn’t hurt anyone. Move aside, I’m leaving.”

The servants grew even angrier: “Do you have no conscience at all?!”

Shen Qingwu said, “Jiang Runiang, tell them yourself.”

Jiang Runiang flinched.

As she hesitated, she heard her father’s voice ring out from behind, demanding, “What happened here?”

Sitting on the ground surrounded by her attendants, Jiang Runiang turned and saw a swirl of cloud-like robes, a young man with the bearing of a clear breeze and a bright moon.

As if possessed, she cried even harder. “Father, my face hurts — have I been disfigured?”

Old Jiang rushed to his daughter’s side, heartbroken, glaring at Shen Qingwu.

Shen Qingwu met Zhang Xingjian’s eyes as he stepped through the moon-gate—

Everyone said she’d hurt Jiang Runiang, everyone was accusing her.

Whether or not it had been an accident, they’d all seen the blade graze her.

Shen Qingwu looked at Zhang Xingjian and said, “I didn’t kill her.”

Zhang Xingjian looked down at Jiang Runiang, thoughtful—

The weeping Jiang Runiang was taken off to see a physician.

The furious Old Jiang, the indifferent Shen Qingwu, and the composed Zhang Xingjian sat together indoors to deal with the matter.

Old Jiang demanded an explanation from Shen Qingwu.

Shen Qingwu said, “She ran into it herself. I have nothing to explain.”

Zhang Xingjian’s dark, clear eyes rested on Shen Qingwu, seated beside him.

Old Jiang trembled with rage. “Everyone saw it happen!”

Shen Qingwu said, calm as ever. “None of them are trained in martial arts, none of them are my equal. I can control my own force, my own aim. If I say it wouldn’t hurt her, then it wouldn’t have.”

Old Jiang looked at her coldly.

He turned to Zhang Xingjian. “Zhang Yuelu, what do you have to say?”

Zhang Xingjian said mildly, “Teacher, let’s simply handle this. There’s no need to ask into the cause.”

That alone made it plain — he’d made up his mind to protect Shen Qingwu, no matter what!

Old Jiang was furious. “Zhang Yuelu, my daughter’s face has been injured, everyone saw Shen Qingwu do it, and you say nothing at all. Coming here to talk to me about Li Linge — I’m starting to think you’re more her advocate than an impartial judge of her, singing her praises…”

The suspicion beneath his words was laid bare.

Zhang Xingjian noticed Shen Qingwu’s hand, resting on her knee, curl into a fist.

He suddenly placed his own hand over hers.

Zhang Xingjian gave Shen Qingwu a gentle, reassuring smile. “General Shen, why don’t you step outside for now. I’ll discuss this with my teacher.”

Shen Qingwu looked at him.

She rose and walked out, amid Old Jiang’s furious shouting.

As she shut the door, she could still hear Old Jiang’s voice, trembling with rage: “She’s just going to walk out like that? I don’t even get an apology? Runiang…”

Zhang Xingjian sighed. “Teacher, she isn’t skilled at handling matters like this. Let me deal with it on her behalf. As for what happened to Runiang, I truly am sorry…”

The door closed.

Shen Qingwu leaned against the door, shutting out the noise within.

She closed her eyes—

Whatever Zhang Xingjian and Old Jiang worked out between them, no one knew. Jiang Runiang, timid in her own chamber, had her maid go find out what was happening.

The maid finally returned and reported, “The master still seems very angry.”

Jiang Runiang’s brow creased.

Would her father refuse to let this go with Shen Qingwu? Would Zhang Xingjian stay because of this? What exactly had they discussed?

While Jiang Runiang sat uneasy with these thoughts, she heard her maid announce, “Young lady, Third Young Master Zhang… has come to see how you’re doing.”

Jiang Runiang startled—

Zhang Xingjian stepped into the room. Jiang Runiang, weak and pale, sat propped up on the bed, a cloth pressed against half her face.

Jiang Runiang noticed that the cuffs of Zhang Xingjian’s robe were somewhat damp.

She asked timidly, “Is it raining?”

Zhang Xingjian smiled. “Perhaps. I hadn’t noticed.”

He sat on a low stool meant for visiting the sick, right beside the bed, gazing steadily at Jiang Runiang.

Jiang Runiang’s heart began to pound.

Zhang Xingjian’s eyes were beautifully made, clear and dark; when he fixed his gaze on someone with such focus, it always gave the illusion of deep, unwavering devotion.

Sunk in that illusion, her face burning, Jiang Runiang heard Zhang Xingjian’s voice, cool and clear, drift into her ears from a distance:

“…My teacher and I have already come to an understanding, and I’ll see to some form of compensation. I wonder if Miss Jiang has any particular need?”

Jiang Runiang was bewildered.

She wanted to ask about Shen Qingwu instead. “…And General Shen…”

Zhang Xingjian gazed at her, silent for a long moment.

Zhang Xingjian said slowly, “Did she really injure you?”

Jiang Runiang had prepared herself well for this, and her expression didn’t waver in the least. “The blade should have missed me entirely — I don’t know how, but General Shen stepped on the scabbard somehow, and when I tried to dodge, the blade came right at me.”

Jiang Runiang’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Maybe she doesn’t like me. Is it… because Third Brother and I are close?”

Zhang Xingjian smiled. “When have you and I ever been close?”

Those who knew him well could already hear the faint chill beneath that calm voice.

But Jiang Runiang couldn’t.

Zhang Xingjian said, “Miss Jiang, do me a favor, would you?”

Jiang Runiang’s eyes glistened with tears, gazing at him in a daze.

Zhang Xingjian, composed and mild, said, “Would you pretend to flirt with me for a while?”

Jiang Runiang’s heart leapt with joy.

She was just about to demur with proper modesty when Zhang Xingjian added, calm as ever, “Because I intend to court General Shen, and I want to make her jealous. Without your help, how would she ever look my way?”

Jiang Runiang’s face went white as paper.

As though she’d fallen into an icy pit.

For a moment she couldn’t make sense of what he was saying, staring at him, ashen-faced, the cloth over her face slipping to reveal the wound on her cheek.

It looked faintly gruesome now.

Zhang Xingjian watched her with a faint smile still on his lips. “Three’s company — sounds fun, doesn’t it?”

Jiang Runiang said, “What are you talking about…”

Zhang Xingjian said, “I know exactly what you’re thinking. I know exactly what you’re trying to do. I’ve never much cared for calling out other people’s schemes — either way, I’ll only be here another two days at most. What’s so hard to endure over such a short stretch of time?

“A little mischief, fine, I don’t mind. But you shouldn’t have escalated things. Jiang Runiang, out of respect for my teacher, I won’t expose what you’ve done. If you understand what I mean, go tell him yourself — tell him not to blame Shen Qingwu any further.”

Zhang Xingjian rose to his feet. “The bond I honor is with your father. Not with you.

“My teacher still doesn’t know what really happened — I’m sparing you your dignity here. Find your own way to smooth this over. If I have to be the one to speak up instead, do you really want to see your father humiliated?”

If Old Jiang felt shamed by this, the bond between teacher and student might well be severed for good.

Zhang Xingjian lowered his eyes. “Whatever you’re hoping to see happen — go ahead and try.”

Jiang Runiang felt a chill run through her entire body as she watched Zhang Xingjian walk out of her chamber.

Her maid came in cheerfully to congratulate her, saying Third Young Master had actually come to visit her — and Jiang Runiang suddenly screamed, “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

She found herself, all at once, deeply afraid of this Zhang Xingjian—

Leaving Jiang Runiang’s chamber, Zhang Xingjian stood in the covered walkway and saw that a light rain had indeed begun to fall across the world.

He walked out of Jiang Runiang’s courtyard, his pace quickening. With no one following him, he hurried straight toward the remote courtyard where Shen Qingwu was staying.

His face remained composed, but his heart was in turmoil.

Earlier, with so many people around, he hadn’t dared defend Shen Qingwu too openly, afraid of provoking his teacher further. When he’d placed his hand over hers, he hadn’t known whether she’d understood what he meant by it.

He’d said he’d handle it.

Having dealt with everything as quickly as his anxious heart allowed, he couldn’t wait any longer to find Shen Qingwu, to comfort her.

Zhang Xingjian called out, “Wutong!”

He entered that remote courtyard, knocked on the door — no answer came from within. Zhang Xingjian, acting entirely out of character, kicked the door open and rushed straight in.

He called out as he went, “Wutong, you…”

He froze, standing in an empty room.

Shen Qingwu traveled light — she’d only brought a small bundle, a scattering of small knives, daggers, and the like. But now, in this room, there was no trace of her left at all.

Zhang Xingjian began to seethe with quiet resentment at himself, furious that in all their bickering along the way, he’d never once come to look at her room.

Staring now at this empty space, he realized he had no idea whether Shen Qingwu had simply never really slept here, or whether she’d shouldered her bundle and left in anger.

Zhang Xingjian gritted his teeth, holding his expression rigid—

Fighting down his fear, he searched the room over and over, growing colder and more shaken with every passing moment.

He truly could not find a single trace of her clothing anywhere!

The sword she’d been practicing with that morning lay soaked against the outer wall, clearly abandoned, discarded.

Zhang Xingjian turned to look out at the fine, drizzling rain.

If she’d left, if she no longer wanted him — what was he supposed to do?—

Sitting up in a tree, lost in thought, her bundle on her back, Shen Qingwu heard Zhang Xingjian go in and then come back out.

She looked down.

Zhang Xingjian stumbled out into the rain, gazing at the misty threads of rainfall, calling out, “Wutong!”

He looked utterly wretched.

He stood alone in the courtyard, refusing to leave.

The rain soaked his lashes, blurring his vision, making everything even harder to see.

Zhang Xingjian called, “Shen Qingwu, come out!”

Listening to the soft patter of rain, he couldn’t make out a single figure anywhere. In his heart he was certain she’d already left, that she was still angry with him, blaming him for not trusting her.

But he had always trusted her.

He felt certain the courtyard was empty, and yet, fearing she might be hiding somewhere watching him, he tried to mask his own panic, tried to reason with her all the same.

Zhang Xingjian’s voice came out hoarse:

“Wutong, I never doubted you. Of course I know your skill never fails you — when I held your hand, didn’t you understand what I meant by it?

“Wutong, don’t leave. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have handled things the way I did. I should have stood by you unconditionally. I should have…

“Wutong, I won’t argue with you anymore. I don’t need any promises from you… just come back… don’t leave me behind, don’t give up on me.”—

Sitting in the tree, Shen Qingwu looked down at Zhang Xingjian below, bewildered and unsettled.

Of course she knew he trusted her.

Her anger had never really been aimed at him.

She’d only wanted to handle the matter her own way.

She’d been thinking, too, about how to explain herself to him.

But he…

Was he crying?—

So fragile.

So pitiful.

So endearing.