Shen Jie was the full younger brother born of the same mother as the current Emperor Shen Lang. Having received imperial favor, his prince’s residence was built quite luxuriously and occupied an extremely large area. If newly arrived guests had no maids or servants to guide them, they would likely get lost after walking in the gardens for not very long.

But Jiang Xuening was very familiar with it—

Who told her she had lived in this residence for over two years in her previous life? The garden paths and trees gave her almost the same feeling as the imperial palace—she could hardly go wrong even with her eyes closed.

Coming out from Jiang Xuehui’s side courtyard, she didn’t much want to return to the women’s banquet seats and was too lazy to deal with others. So she walked along the corridor beside the small lake in the garden, wanting to find a quiet place to hide for a while and come out when the banquet was about to disperse.

Unexpectedly, having just turned the corridor, she actually encountered Shen Jie.

Today’s groom wore a bright red wedding robe, which made his face appear even more like jade and his temperament even more gentle and refined. A crowd of attendants followed behind him, making him seem even more like a jade tree of orchids and irises, surrounded by stars clustered around the moon.

Judging by his direction, he was coming from the main house where Fang Miao was, heading toward where Jiang Xuehui was.

At this encounter, both were somewhat surprised.

Shen Jie was stunned, then reacted first, cupping his hands and bowing slightly: “Second Miss, my respects.”

But Jiang Xuening was in a daze.

This outfit of his was the same as in her previous life.

However, when she had seen it then, it wasn’t outside under the light of day, but in the bridal chamber. Whether he had drunk too much or was thin-skinned, when His Highness used a ceremonial scale to lift her veil, his handsome face under the red candlelight faintly flushed red. At that time she had also felt slightly dizzy, but the tender affection was all an illusion. Because she originally had no feelings for this person, beyond the illusion, what spread through the bottom of her heart was endless emptiness.

She returned the courtesy and said: “His Highness Prince Linzi’s residence is too large. I was originally just trying to take a shortcut back to my seat, but unexpectedly after just a few steps I got lost.”

Shen Jie guessed as much.

After Jiang Xuening finished speaking, she stared at him for a moment, then suddenly asked the attendants beside him: “Do you have wine?”

Those people were stunned and subconsciously looked toward Shen Jie.

Shen Jie also didn’t know what Jiang Xuening meant.

Jiang Xuening then smiled and explained: “Though His Highness and I aren’t familiar, in the palace I did receive His Highness’s care on one or two occasions. His Highness and Yan Lin are old friends, but now that he’s exiled to Huangzhou, I’m afraid he cannot come to offer congratulations in person. Whether emotionally or rationally, I should toast His Highness a cup on behalf of myself and also representing Yan Lin, to congratulate His Highness on this joyous occasion.”

Only then did Shen Jie understand.

But mentioning Yan Lin, he couldn’t help feeling somewhat downcast. He only had someone fetch wine first, but said: “It was supposed to be a joyous good day, but now Yan Lin isn’t here, and Zhiyi isn’t here either…”

With Jiang Xuening, his acquaintance wasn’t deep.

Outsiders all said this Second Miss Jiang was domineering and arrogant, but perhaps because he had heard Yan Lin ramble so much, and knew his imperial sister Shen Zhiyi treated her extraordinarily, Shen Jie’s view differed from the common perception.

Just now in the front hall receiving guests, everyone said that today he was simultaneously welcoming a principal consort and two secondary consorts through the door—enjoying the blessing of齐人 (having multiple wives).

He thanked them with his mouth, but his heart wasn’t that happy.

But by others’ standards, he had no reason to be unhappy.

Now that Jiang Xuening brought this up, though it wasn’t a pleasant topic, Shen Jie suddenly felt a moment of relief, as if he suddenly had a legitimate reason to be unhappy.

There was a water pavilion nearby.

Today the residence was celebrating greatly, with wine and water prepared everywhere for guests.

Servants quickly retrieved the wine and poured a cup for each of them.

Jiang Xuening picked up a cup, but what surfaced in her mind were all the ways Shen Jie had treated her in her previous life—celebrating her birthday, her enfeoffment as Empress, and even in his final moments entrusting her with the imperial jade seal. Though this object later became the source of her self-inflicted death in burial, as an emperor, his treatment of her who had no feelings for him was truly impeccable.

Only his disposition was too kind, and kindness meant weakness.

She raised her cup to him, slowly and earnestly saying: “His Highness is a good person. With this cup, Xuening wishes that you may have your wishes fulfilled and enjoy peace and smooth fortune in this life.”

Wishes fulfilled, peace and smooth fortune.

These were truly the most ordinary blessing words, and saying them on his wedding day even had a slightly strange and inappropriate flavor.

Shen Jie frowned slightly as he looked at her.

But she smiled blandly, her clear eyes holding no schemes, only sincerity, like gentle streams flowing through one’s heart, gradually making one feel comforted. She extended her cup and lightly touched his, then tilted her head back and drained it first.

Shen Jie blinked, feeling somewhat lost.

What exactly had this young lady before him let go of? She seemed completely relaxed all over.

He couldn’t understand, but was also influenced by her carefree manner to smile, only saying “May I borrow your auspicious words” before also tilting his head back to drain his cup.

In her previous life, she had no feelings for Shen Jie, yet Shen Jie had treated her with utmost benevolence and righteousness. In this life, she had avoided intersection with Shen Jie, both giving herself freedom and hoping that without her as a burden, he could receive good fortune.

Jiang Xuening put down her cup and bowed once more to take her leave.

Her departing posture could be called relieved and carefree.

Shen Jie stood in place watching for a long time, yet didn’t know why he felt disappointed and lost. Only when an attendant reminded him did he lower his eyes to look at the wine cup in his hand, return it to the attendant, and continue toward the courtyard where Jiang Xuehui was.

Having encountered Shen Jie on the road and having said she didn’t know the way, Jiang Xuening naturally had even less fear of finding a place to hide and slack off. She encountered a quiet pleasure boat by the small lake ahead and sat down beside it, sorting through the things she needed to do after going to Shu while waiting for the sun to set.

The front hall was truly lively for a while.

Hearing shouts of “Long live” from afar, she knew the Emperor and Empress had come for a visit. Not long after, she heard another round of respectful farewells and knew the Emperor had left.

When dusk was about to fall, she calculated the time was about right and got up again, walking toward the front hall.

By now some guests with official duties had already taken their leave first.

From an attendant’s mouth, Jiang Xuening learned that Jiang Boyou was at a pavilion in the eastern corner of the garden, so she found her way there.

Sure enough, from afar she saw Jiang Boyou standing facing outward, talking with several people, one of whom stood with his back facing outward.

The sky had already darkened, the light dim.

For a moment she couldn’t see clearly. When she got closer, that person’s voice entered her ears, his form turning slightly to the side, and she recognized him all at once. In this instant, there was truly a feeling of suddenly turning back to find the lights dimmed, a vague surge of scorching heat rolling through her heart, leaving behind a burn that couldn’t be rubbed away.

On that day at Shuxiang Inn, words had been spoken plainly. Though Jiang Xuening felt she wasn’t the type to pester relentlessly, she still feared awkwardness upon meeting. Having recognized him, her footsteps stopped at a distance neither near nor far.

Jiang Boyou had good eyesight and did see her.

However, he talked with everyone for a while longer before they mutually said their farewells. Zhang Zhe didn’t know she was right behind him. When he turned around, he saw her at a glance standing under that crabapple tree, and his form froze.

But he didn’t speak.

Jiang Xuening also said nothing.

Not until Jiang Boyou walked over, smiling as he said: “Why did you come looking for me?”

Only then did Jiang Xuening blink, withdrawing her gaze, and said: “Just now I remembered some matters about Shu and felt I still needed to discuss them with Father.”

But Jiang Boyou glanced around, as if wary of something, waving his hand: “Just right, I also have some thoughts about your marriage that I want to discuss with you. We’ll talk on the way back. I’ll first go bid farewell to a few other colleagues. Wait here for me a moment.”

Jiang Xuening didn’t know what thoughts he had, but didn’t probe deeply for now.

She only nodded and watched him leave.

When she turned her head back to look for Zhang Zhe, where he had stood a moment ago was already empty.

In her previous life, affinity without destiny.

In this life, destiny without affinity.

She laughed lowly, cursing heaven for tormenting her, feeling it would probably take her some time to emerge from this.

After standing for a moment and feeling tired, she simply walked into the pavilion.

Only when going up the steps and passing by that cluster of heavenly bamboo beside them, Jiang Xuening’s gaze shifted and she suddenly saw among the slightly reddish early summer leaves hanging a black brocade pouch with silver patterns, as if someone passing by these creeping branches had accidentally caught and lost it.

She casually picked it up, originally paying no attention.

However, the instant she held it in her hand, she felt it was familiar.

Hadn’t Zhang Zhe often worn such a pouch at his side in her previous life?

Once she suspected it was sent by some young lady and snatched it to play with. She had thought Zhang Zhe had already been tormented by her to the point of having no temper, but unexpectedly his expression suddenly changed. Though he still had that stoic and taciturn appearance, when he frowned there was more suppressed anger.

She couldn’t bear it and returned it.

Only later did she learn it was a loving mother’s devoted affection for her son, sewn stitch by stitch. Though it didn’t contain any important items, to Zhang Zhe it had extraordinary significance.

If she had found this object in her previous life, she would definitely have used it to mock and ridicule thoroughly. But seeing it now, her eyes were full of bitterness, only thinking that if he discovered he’d lost it he would be very troubled, so she planned to hand it over to the prince’s residence servants for safekeeping, in case he returned to search for it.

But as she took a step, there came from within the pouch the sound of small objects colliding.

“…”

Jiang Xuening suddenly froze, her fingers trembling. She lowered her eyes to stare at the pouch clutched in her hand. Certain jumbled thoughts flashed through her mind, but like vast white fog, they left no trace.

She stood for a very, very long time before slowly opening the pouch.

With a rustling sound…

Dozens of auspicious gold and silver ingots shaped like New Year’s fruits rolled out from within, scattering across her palm. Falling out along with them was half a page of folded thin paper, through which ink marks on the back could vaguely be seen.

Jiang Xuening’s tears instantly fell.

She forcefully pressed down on her heart, feeling as if drowning, as if the next moment she wouldn’t be able to breathe.

The apprehension when hanging the pouch outside his door that night, the solitary courage when standing before him directly asking his intentions that day—all passed over her heart. But in this moment they all transformed into an incomprehensible absurdity, an indignant grief…

“Zhang Zhe, I am interested in you.”

“Second Miss Jiang, please forgive me, but I already have someone in my heart.”

…

If you truly were interested in someone else, completely unmoved by me, then what does keeping these things mean?