After leaving the Jiang household, Shen Qingwu spent the following month traveling to many places with Zhang Xingjian.

The atmosphere in the Eastern Capital had grown tense, with assassinations occurring one after another.

A mysterious miracle physician, escorted under the Shen family’s protection, was brought into the Eastern Capital without passing any inspection, headed straight into the palace to treat the Young Emperor.

The court officials accused the Shen family of harboring treacherous intent. The Shen family, in response, sent out troops, clashing directly with the Imperial Guards, cutting a bloody path straight through the officials and into the palace. At the same time, the Shen clan used the tiger tally to seize control of the Longyou army without authorization.

Such actions plainly amounted to rebellion.

The Imperial Guard’s forces were scattered, and the enemy seized control before anyone could react. The court officials clashed bitterly with the traitorous Shen clan in argument; by the time some of them thought to send word beyond the city walls, seeking help from Chancellor Zhang Xingjian, they found the Eastern Capital had already been sealed up tight as an iron bucket — not even an ant could slip out.

Storm clouds loomed, and the people’s hearts trembled with fear.

Visitors streamed endlessly to the gates of the Zhang estate, but with the man in charge absent, the household soon fell quiet and empty of callers once more.

Amid this tense atmosphere, Chang Lin, working with several of the loyal retainers, resolved to personally break through the net Bo Rong had cast, to slip out himself and get word to his young master—

That was it, exactly.

Given the current state of the Eastern Capital, Chang Lin refused to believe the Shen family had suddenly grown so bold and resourceful, capable of executing such a precise, swift plan on their own. If the Shen family truly possessed such cunning, they’d never have abandoned Shen Qingwu, nor let Shen Qingye slip away and turn against them.

It had to be Bo Rong.

Bo Rong must have chosen the Shen family — Bo Rong needed soldiers.

They, the loyal retainers, had failed to keep watch over Bo Rong closely enough. Now they had no choice but to leave the city and beg their young master to save the Eastern Capital.

But Chang Lin couldn’t understand: what was Marshal Bo actually trying to accomplish?

Kill the Young Emperor?

He could have done that at any time.

Save the Young Emperor?

There’d been no word of any sudden recovery.

Could Marshal Bo want to be emperor himself?

He couldn’t make sense of it—

While the Eastern Capital descended into chaos, Shen Qingwu followed Zhang Xingjian to visit all manner of people.

Some renowned scholars, some reclusive hermits; some village farmers, some street peddlers.

Rivers ran wide and deep, and the world stretched vast and boundless.

Shen Qingwu watched Zhang Xingjian climb some mountain forest before dawn, calling three times at a hermit’s door; watched him, deep in the night, chatting and drinking with beggars in the street, utterly at ease.

She observed him the way an outsider might, watching what he was doing.

Just as he, in turn, played the outsider himself, learning from others’ words how Li Linge’s arrival had affected the south of Great Zhou.

He often went without sleep, pacing the courtyard all through the night, gazing up at the sky in thought; he often wrote letters to different people, and sometimes Shen Qingwu would wake up to find he’d been at it the whole night through, still hard at work.

This man had a will of iron endurance.

Shen Qingwu began seeing Zhang Xingjian from an entirely different angle—

When she wasn’t looking at him through the lens of her own private feelings, when she watched him as an outsider might, quietly wearing himself thin for the sake of the common people, it was hard to say she felt nothing at all.

Shen Qingwu had always been self-centered, always selfish by nature.

The wider world had never entered her field of vision; only once her own troubles were resolved could she spare a glance for anyone else. Whenever she’d helped someone, it had always just been an incidental act along the way.

But Zhang Xingjian wasn’t like that.

She’d always assumed he had little compassion in him.

He observed everyone with careful, measured distance, and everything he did, everyone he met, subtly shaped the direction of the entire realm. He rarely showed sympathy toward any single individual — or rather, Shen Qingwu had believed he didn’t have much compassion to give.

He was always calculating the bigger picture.

Once, unable to hold back, Shen Qingwu asked him, “Why do you care so much about Li Linge? Traveling to so many places, investigating so much, meeting so many people? Whoever sits on the throne shouldn’t really matter to someone with your abilities.”

Zhang Xingjian answered, “I’m the one people jokingly call ‘the Moon,’ aren’t I?”

He looked at her with a smile. “From the very first day I was registered into the Zhang family’s direct line, my whole life was set — to protect the sovereign, to protect the realm, to protect its people. Isn’t that exactly what the ‘Moon,’ as everyone sees it, is supposed to do?

The bright moon lights the great road.

The bright moon also lights the ditches at the roadside.

It’s only when everyone is held in his sight, kept in his heart, that Zhang Xingjian’s existence has any meaning.

Otherwise… why should the sun ever need to set, why should moonlight ever need to fill the sky?

Being someone’s younger brother, of course he’d have to help solve the family’s troubles.

Being the Zhang family’s moon, of course he’d have to work for the benefit of the whole realm.

Shen Qingwu said, “But everything you’re doing is so roundabout — most people will never even know, will never thank you for it.”

Zhang Xingjian asked back, “Does Wutong want to be thanked, every time she saves someone?”

Shen Qingwu froze.

She shook her head.

She didn’t want to be thanked. Besides, more often than not, what she got in return was misunderstanding, not gratitude.

Shen Qingwu asked Zhang Xingjian, “You want to protect Great Zhou, don’t you?”

Zhang Xingjian nodded.

He invited her, “Come and stand with me. Will you?”

Shen Qingwu didn’t answer right away.

She needed to think it over.

She needed to observe.

Her lack of upbringing had left her without any grand ambitions, any sweeping ideals. In that instant, she caught a glimpse of Zhang Xingjian’s ambition — and it wasn’t ugly at all, but beautiful, leaving Shen Qingwu, who’d lived her whole life steeped in scheming and calculation, thoroughly confused.

Later, she would come to understand that what she’d glimpsed was something closer to a “dream,” an “ideal” — not something that could simply be called mere “ambition.”

For now, Shen Qingwu didn’t understand any of that. She’d only caught the barest tip of the iceberg, and it had stirred her curiosity.

She wanted to see for herself, with her own eyes—

By the fifth month, just before the Dragon Boat Festival, on an evening when the lanterns had just begun to light, Shen Qingwu and Zhang Xingjian wandered through an unfamiliar town.

Moments earlier, the two of them had just left the residence of a certain renowned scholar.

The scholar had spent a good while cursing Li Linge — the usual complaints, that “a woman in power spells ruin for the nation,” that “the great river’s flooding was surely divine punishment brought on by her years of meddling in court affairs.”

The scholar had said, “You want to know her accomplishments? She has none! She’s been stealing credit that belongs to His Majesty! Everyone in the realm knows perfectly well — that assassination attempt on the young emperor by Shen Qingwu was ordered by that very Li Linge! I pray to the Buddha every day, begging Heaven to keep watch, so His Majesty may recover soon…”

He had no idea that the very Shen Qingwu he spoke of was standing right beside him.

Shen Qingwu herself asked him coldly, “Hasn’t the emperor already governed before? He ruled the country for over a year, didn’t he? In that year or so, how many people did he kill, how many good women did he seize for himself, how many absurd taxes and forced labor schemes did he rack his brain to invent?

“You’re praying for a man like that to recover?!”

The scholar grew furious. “Zhang Yuelu, I let you into my home out of respect for the old ties between our families — how dare you let a woman shout at me like this in my own house?! Utterly without manners!”

Zhang Xingjian, himself hardly a stickler for manners, hadn’t even had time to grow angry.

Shen Qingwu, even less concerned with manners, couldn’t hold back any longer and gave the scholar a beating.

In the end, the two of them were thrown out of the house, along with a parting threat: “My master says you’d better clear out of this city by tonight! Otherwise, come tomorrow, he’ll have the magistrate post a warrant for your arrest, throw you both in a cell to reflect on your behavior!”

Under the faint starlight, a cool breeze blowing, Zhang Xingjian and Shen Qingwu stood beside the stone lions outside the mansion gate.

Zhang Xingjian blinked.

Hearing that the man was even threatening to issue a warrant, Shen Qingwu, guessing the local magistrate was probably in league with this scholar too, was furious… she strode forward angrily.

The haughty steward and servants quickly slammed the gate shut, refusing to let the fierce woman back inside.

Zhang Xingjian wrapped his arms around Shen Qingwu’s waist from behind, holding her in place so she wouldn’t go charging off.

He laughed. “All right, all right, you already made his nose bleed. If we actually killed someone, wouldn’t we be the ones stuck paying for it? That’s more than enough.”

Shen Qingwu fumed, “What kind of friends did your ancestors even keep!”

Zhang Xingjian let go of her, letting her turn and vent her anger directly at him.

He laughed. “Right, look at the sort of friends my ancestors kept.”

Shen Qingwu ordered, “Cut ties with them right away!”

Zhang Xingjian agreed. “I’ll write and sever ties with them the moment we’re back.”

The normally taciturn Shen Qingwu was, for once, quite worked up. “Calling himself a ‘renowned scholar’!”

Zhang Xingjian nodded. “Some ‘renowned scholar’ indeed.”

Shen Qingwu said, “Not even worth as much as I am.”

Zhang Xingjian’s eyes curved. “Not even worth as much as you.”

He kept echoing her, light and easy, agreeing with everything she said, his voice pleasant and faintly amused, calm and unruffled — and gradually, under his influence, Shen Qingwu calmed down too.

Once calm, she felt a flicker of guilt: had her outburst back there disrupted whatever plan he’d had?

Zhang Xingjian caught the glance she stole at him and immediately knew what she was thinking.

He shook his head, smiling. “It’s fine. I was already thoroughly disappointed in the current head of that family. My teacher had him on a list of names, which is why I came to see for myself. And having seen it firsthand, my earlier judgment was confirmed.”

Shen Qingwu asked, “So… we’ve just been thrown out, then?”

Zhang Xingjian blinked. “Yep, we’ve just been thrown out.”

He spread his hands, feigning distress, though mischief danced in his eyes. “You’re not still unsatisfied, are you — thinking you didn’t hit him hard enough, wanting to go back for more?”

Shen Qingwu scoffed.

Shen Qingwu said, “Of course I went easy on him. But touching him at all already dirtied my hands. Never mind.”

She asked him uneasily, “So we’re just… leaving this city, heading out?”

Zhang Xingjian smiled. “Yep, nothing for it but to head out to somewhere else.”

The corner of Shen Qingwu’s mouth twitched, and she couldn’t quite stop it curving upward.

Watching him look so relaxed and gentle, echoing her words the whole way with that mischief hidden in his tone… ah, she really wanted to kiss him.

Shen Qingwu had grown used to this feeling of fondness that could rise up in her toward Zhang Xingjian at any moment.

The feeling always left her limbs faintly numb with warmth; she was slowly coming to understand what it meant… she was still simply feeling it out, weighing it, afraid of misreading it.

Shen Qingwu caught up to Zhang Xingjian and asked, “You’re really not angry? We were supposed to spend the Dragon Boat Festival here, and now we’ve been thrown out — we might end up spending the holiday out in the wilderness…”

She calculated the distance: the next four or five days of travel would all be through open countryside.

Whatever festival Zhang Xingjian had wanted, it clearly wasn’t happening now.

Zhang Xingjian snapped back to attention. “Hm? You think I care about the Dragon Boat Festival? Well, missing it is missing it, no great matter…”

He seemed a little distracted.

There’d been no word from the Eastern Capital in a long while; Shen Qingwu guessed he was worried, and didn’t press further.

But then Zhang Xingjian smiled and said to her, “Before we’re chased out of the city at dawn, we’ve still got the whole night to wander around it.”

He said, plainly, “Wutong, I don’t care where I spend the festival. What I care about is being with you.”

He said softly, “Since the Lantern Festival at the start of the twenty-fifth year of Tianlong, you and I haven’t spent a single festival together — it’s rather a shame.”

The more he said this, the more anxious Shen Qingwu grew over the Dragon Boat Festival now slipping away.

He only smiled and took her hand, leading her into the crowd.

Shen Qingwu quickly settled down again.

Since he’d said he didn’t care, she’d take him at his word.

Spending tonight enjoying herself with him — that would be enough to satisfy him too—

Lanterns filled the sky, the streets alive with noise. A half-finished dragon boat sat moored at the water’s edge, along with piles of half-completed colored lanterns stacked along the road.

Zhang Xingjian and Shen Qingwu wove through the crowds.

They stopped before a crowded circle watching a troupe of street performers, listening to the beat of gongs and drums, watching them finish a fire-breathing act before passing a plate around to collect money from the onlookers.

The bronze tray reached Shen Qingwu.

Shen Qingwu tossed in a few copper coins, then turned to ask Zhang Xingjian, “Do you know how they do that fire-breathing trick?”

Zhang Xingjian said, “Didn’t they say it themselves? They’re born with some special gift.”

Shen Qingwu blinked. “You actually believe that?”

He said, perfectly serious, “Why wouldn’t I? How else could a person breathe fire? It would burn them alive.”

Shen Qingwu: “…”

She opened her mouth, then closed it, staring at this naive, foolish young man with visible conflict on her face.

She looked at him with something like pity: a young master raised in some ancient estate, believing even a trick like this. Should she tell him the truth or not…

Zhang Xingjian was holding back laughter in his eyes.

He was deliberately teasing her, enjoying watching her so torn over it. He’d had his fill of savoring the rare flashes of emotion that slipped past her usual cool exterior, and was just about to admit he’d been fooling her — when Shen Qingwu looked up, her dark eyes fixed intently on him.

Shen Qingwu said, “You’ve been fooled. It’s all a trick, meant to fool exactly the kind of simpleton you are.”

The performer nearby, still going around collecting money, mid-cheer, shot her a sidelong, indignant glare. “…”

The young woman was completely oblivious to anyone else’s attention; her gaze remained fixed only on the striking, faintly delicate-featured young man beside her.

That striking, faintly delicate-featured young man, Zhang Xingjian, met Shen Qingwu’s gaze head-on. “…”

Something in his chest tightened. He hadn’t expected Shen Qingwu to be quite so ruthless — faced with him supposedly falling for an innocent lie, she hadn’t chosen to protect that innocence, but to expose the truth and leave him embarrassed instead.

Shen Qingwu’s tone stayed level, but Zhang Xingjian could hear the touch of mischief threaded through it clearly enough: “They rigged something, used a bit of trickery to fool you.”

The performer glaring at Shen Qingwu looked ready to explode.

Zhang Xingjian put on a look of surprise. “Surely not?”

Shen Qingwu said, “You were fooled, plain and simple.”

Excitement lit up in her eyes; she was thoroughly enjoying herself — she loved watching him lose, loved watching him get bullied, get tricked.

Zhang Xingjian silently cursed her wicked sense of fun.

Aloud, he stayed mild. “I don’t believe it.”

Shen Qingwu, even more delighted at his misfortune, said, “It’s true. You got fooled so badly.”

Zhang Xingjian countered, “Then can you explain exactly how they pulled off the trick?”

Shen Qingwu froze.

She said, “I already told you — they used some kind of illusion technique.”

Equally ruthless in return, Zhang Xingjian told her, “There’s no such thing as illusion techniques in this world. You’re the one who’s been fooled.”

Shen Qingwu glared at him — of course she knew that! She just genuinely had no idea how the trick actually worked.

Meanwhile, the money-collecting performer, still glaring at the two of them throughout, looked about ready to choke on his own outrage.

Before the next act began, the performer couldn’t help complaining to a fellow performer. “That couple! Yeah, the really good-looking guy, and his tall wife… are they here to sabotage us on purpose?

“I’ve been going around collecting money this whole time, listening to them argue away, and everyone near them’s been straining to listen in too. They’re saying we’re frauds, saying they’re going to expose us! If they actually manage it, who’s going to want to watch us perform anymore?”

Someone suggested, “Trip them up when you walk past, chase them off. Didn’t you say your kung fu’s pretty good?”

The performer flushed red. “I don’t know why, but every time I walk past them, my legs go weak, my knees start shaking — one time I nearly threw the whole coin tray… it’s honestly a bit uncanny.”

So the performers not currently on stage all stole glances at the couple, and one by one, their eyes lit up—

What a striking pair.

If Shen Qingwu had known how they were being sized up, she’d have been thrilled. But she had no idea, being too busy arguing seriously with Zhang Xingjian, the argument growing more heated by the moment—

Shen Qingwu said, “How can you be so hopelessly stubborn?”

Zhang Xingjian spread his hands. “I just don’t see any proof.”

Shen Qingwu said, “You expect them to lay proof out right in front of you?! Are you a fool?”

Noticing the crowd around them straining to listen in, Zhang Xingjian felt a flicker of embarrassment and decided he didn’t want to keep arguing with Shen Qingwu any further.

Seeing her nearly worked up to a fury, Zhang Xingjian decided to quit while he was ahead, subtly steering the conversation toward what he’d actually wanted all along—

He said softly, “If you want to convince me it’s all a trick — when they call for volunteers from the crowd to help with the act, why don’t you step up eagerly? Once you’re in the middle of it yourself, won’t you know for certain whether it’s real or fake — and then you could convince me too?”

Shen Qingwu froze.

She had no interest in dealing with strangers.

She kept herself curled up safely in her own little world, content there, odd as it might seem to others. She had no use for what strangers thought of her, good or bad — years of failed attempts at conversation had long since soured her on dealing with people at all.

Zhang Xingjian had once tried to teach her how to talk to people.

She’d given it a try, found it exhausting, and quickly grew bored and gave up. And Zhang Xingjian, never much of a dedicated teacher to begin with, was happy enough to let it drop when his student didn’t put in the effort.

But now, now…

Shen Qingwu simply enjoyed talking to Zhang Xingjian, and only him — because no one else could hold a conversation quite the way he could, no one else could always follow what she actually meant.

So Shen Qingwu turned him down. “If you want to keep playing the fool who got tricked, go right ahead — I’m not going up there to help some stranger’s act.”

Her refusal was perfectly reasonable.

Zhang Xingjian gave a faint smile and said nothing more.

He never pushed her to do anything, never tried to force her to change. He’d only offered her a chance to try — and if she didn’t want it, that was fine too.

Amid the beat of gongs and drums, a new act began, drowning out their conversation.

Shen Qingwu and Zhang Xingjian stood among the crowd, watching the performance intently.

Warm breath brushed against Shen Qingwu’s ear.

Zhang Xingjian leaned in close, speaking to her. “Wutong, can you hear me?”

Shen Qingwu gave a distracted “Mm.”

Her dark eyes stayed fixed on the performance, her whole body tense, braced with wariness. She was afraid Zhang Xingjian would bring the earlier subject back up, try again to talk her into helping with the act… in which case she’d have to resort to force to deal with him.

Zhang Xingjian said gently in her ear, “Wutong, something just occurred to me — when is your birthday?”

Shen Qingwu, still racking her brain for ways to refuse him, hadn’t expected him to suddenly ask about her birthday instead.

She turned to look at him, thoroughly puzzled.

Amid the clamor of gongs, drums, and music that filled the air, Shen Qingwu couldn’t fathom why he’d suddenly thought of this.

He smiled. “Just curious, that’s all.”

Shen Qingwu relaxed.

She turned it over in her mind alongside him.

She said, “What day was I born? I don’t know.”

She looked up at the sky. “What hour was I born? I don’t know that either.”

She spread her hands. “As for those details — my old wet nurse probably knew. But I have no idea where she is now.

“She was the one your schemes took from me, remember? You cut off contact between us. So now I genuinely have no idea when my own birthday even is.”

She said it calmly, without any blame in her tone.

Shen Qingwu was, little by little, making peace with her own stubborn, willful nature.

The more she kept revisiting what had happened back then, the more she discussed it openly with Zhang Xingjian… the more she found herself gradually able to let it go.

He didn’t shy away from it, so neither would she. He was willing to torment himself asking the same questions over and over, and she was willing to answer them each time. It was just that whenever it left him hurting, she’d have to be the one to comfort him.

What a headache.

Shen Qingwu really wasn’t any good at comforting people.

She stole a glance at Zhang Xingjian, feeling rather put out — if you didn’t want to hear it, why insist on asking? And once you’d asked, why be unhappy about the answer? Such an exasperating man.

Zhang Xingjian’s eyes curved.

There had genuinely been a sharp little pang in his chest a moment ago, but with Shen Qingwu’s dark eyes fixed on him so intently, her emotions so plainly written on her face… Zhang Xingjian found he simply couldn’t bring himself to feel sad anymore.

The way she peeked at him — it was so endearing.

Even her flat, matter-of-fact string of three “I don’t know”s carried its own kind of innocent charm.

He gave a soft laugh and, through the fabric of his sleeve, took her hand.

Zhang Xingjian said softly, “My birthday’s coming up soon, actually, Wutong.”

Shen Qingwu went still.

Zhang Xingjian said, “The tenth of the fifth month — that’s my birthday. I don’t care much about the Dragon Boat Festival. In our household, my birthday’s never been celebrated with nearly as much fuss as the festival itself…”

He said this with a flicker of guilty conscience, and hurried past it quickly.

After all, once a man reached twenty and came of age, what reason was there to make a fuss over his birthday? A man ought to stand tall and firm, without such sentimental indulgences.

Zhang Xingjian was simply counting on Shen Qingwu’s not knowing any of this, hoping to gently lead her along—

He said softly, “This year, it looks like my birthday’s going to be spent with you, Wutong. And since you don’t know your own birthday, why don’t we… why don’t we…”

The gongs and drums grew louder, as the drummer deliberately passed close by the two of them, striking a particularly heavy beat right beside them.

Shen Qingwu shot him a cold glance and scared the man off. But when she turned to look at Zhang Xingjian again, he — already hesitant to begin with — lost his nerve entirely in that instant.

He gave a small smile. “Never mind. We’ll talk about it later.”

If he meant to express his true feelings, this clamorous setting was hardly the place for it.

Once the gongs and drums stopped interrupting them, there’d be no rush to ask her again—

Shen Qingwu turned over what Zhang Xingjian had meant.

She strung together everything they’d discussed.

First he’d asked whether she’d be willing to step up and help the performers with their tired old routine; then he’d asked about her birthday; when she said she had none, he’d hinted, rather heavy-handedly, that his own birthday was coming up.

Shen Qingwu hadn’t thought much of it at first.

But mulling it over for a while, she began to catch the drift, and turned in surprise to glance at the young man beside her, still engrossed in watching the show:

Could he possibly be hinting that he wanted a birthday gift from her, and she just hadn’t caught on?

Could his suggestion that she go up on stage actually be exactly the gift he wanted — but he was too embarrassed to say so outright?—

Shen Qingwu fixed her gaze on Zhang Xingjian, eyes burning with intent—

As the current act wrapped up, the crowd’s noise settled somewhat, and the performer went around collecting money again.

Zhang Xingjian turned and found Shen Qingwu still staring at him, unrelenting.

He was just about to ask what was wrong.

Shen Qingwu, steeling herself with grim determination, gave a nod. “I’ll go tell them right now — I’ll go up there and help with their act, to show you, once and for all, that this really is a trick.”

She turned and marched straight toward the money-collecting performer, who was still glaring furiously at her.

Shen Qingwu found this baffling, but she paid no attention to the glares — she had a young master to spoil.

Her adorable Zhang Yuelu had just this one birthday wish — how could she possibly ignore it? Of course she’d give him the very best.

Zhang Xingjian, left standing where he was, blinked.

He realized Shen Qingwu had misunderstood something entirely.

What should he do?

Should he clear up the misunderstanding — or just sit back and enjoy watching his lady try to please him?