Zhang Zhixu did not see it that way.

He believed a man ought to take responsibility. Having been that intimate with someone, to still hold a grudge against her — was that not just bullying? Besides, Chen Baoxiang hadn’t done anything unconscionable. She was simply in a difficult position with things to attend to.

Understandable, reasonable — and worth thinking about how to take responsibility for.

— The matter between him and Chen Baoxiang had already been spreading all through Shangjing. Getting married in the natural course of things seemed perfectly reasonable, did it not?

It was just that the clan elders and his elder brother at home would not be easy to manage. He would need to put in considerable effort there.

But thinking back on it — she had been inside a good while now, and Chen Baoxiang had kept her head down eating the whole time and had not said a single word to him.

Zhang Zhixu looked up at the person sitting across from him, and realized belatedly: “Are you avoiding me?”

“What?” Chen Baoxiang looked up, a grain of rice still stuck to the corner of her mouth.

He reached over in distaste and picked it off, then said with mild exasperation, “Is there nothing you want to say to me?”

Her eyes shifted left and right, and Chen Baoxiang laughed awkwardly. “Ah, right — I haven’t thanked you yet.”

Zhang Zhixu: “……”

The room fell suddenly quiet. He looked steadily at her, the brightness in his eyes dimming little by little.

“Don’t react like that.” She poked at the rice in her bowl, looking entirely innocent. “I already said you’re not ‘others’ — of course having you be the one to help me was the best possible outcome, so saying thank you isn’t out of place, is it.”

“Besides, sir, you should have seen it clearly by now — the Princess Imperial not only wants to break apart the imperial marriage, she wants you to offend the new Emperor as well. Best of all if you were severely punished, so that the Zhang Family and the new Emperor are irreconcilably at odds, and she can sit back and reap the benefit.”

She wrinkled her nose slightly. “This scheme benefits only her, not you. You can refuse to accept the marriage — but you can’t openly defy the imperial decree. If His Majesty’s fury comes down, won’t all the consequences fall squarely on you?”

Especially since it would be on her account that he defied it — that was even more out of the question. She had no way to protect herself yet. She absolutely could not become an innocent casualty sacrificed in the power struggles of the great and powerful, like a night watchman caught in the crossfire.

She set down her chopsticks with a twinge of guilt and tilted her head to look at him. “You can understand what I mean, right?”

Zhang Zhixu said nothing.

His long dark lashes hung low, like bamboo shadows beneath a desolate moonlit sky. All around, the water clock measured time in steady drops, echoing into emptiness, unanswered.

Chen Baoxiang grew anxious. She wanted to reach out and touch him but hesitated, so she lifted her chopsticks instead and placed two more pieces of meat in his bowl. “Fengqing, you are the person in this world who has treated me best.”

Those were familiar words — the sort she seemed to hear Xie Lanting say to people often enough.

Zhang Zhixu didn’t know what expression he ought to wear. Emotions surged and tangled in his chest. Anger kept cresting through the turbulent tide, yet could never quite reach shore.

He laughed in the end, low and slightly hoarse.

“All right.” He said. “Whatever you decide.”

Not a yielding to the tide of feeling, not a willing act of the heart — only an accidental entrapment. Chen Baoxiang had not taken it to heart.

She was even advising him to read the situation and act accordingly.

Calm and objective, not at all misled by a surge of emotion.

Nothing wrong with that. This was who she was.

He tried to let reason suppress his own feelings, to think alongside her. But after struggling for a long while, his breathing grew heavier still, and his complexion grew darker still.

“You eat slowly. I’ll go attend to official business.” He rose.

“Oh, alright.” Chen Baoxiang continued reaching for dishes with an unbothered expression.

The door opened and closed. The fine cuts of meat were moved at the bowl five or six times, but still couldn’t be picked up.

·

After one spring rain, Jiuquan noticed with curiosity that something seemed off between his master and Officer Chen.

The two people who ought to have been deeply devoted and practically inseparable were behaving just as they had before — normally. Officer Chen, in fact, had become so occupied with her duties that she no longer came every day. They would only meet when both had a free moment, share a regular meal, and then each go their own way.

His master was busy making private visits to various villages, then returning to the ancestral estate to deal with certain elders. Occasionally he would gaze out the window for a moment, lost in thought — but he would always rein his mind back in quickly and return to his work.

Officer Chen was busy with her martial training.

Though she had been promoted into the Front Court Imperial Guards, her rank was the lowest there — and yet her reputation was considerable. Quite a few people came looking to spar with her.

Chen Baoxiang seized every opportunity available, putting in every ounce of effort to train and improve.

Summer was approaching, and His Majesty intended to make a final spring hunt at Tianningshan.

Chen Baoxiang shamelessly asked Bi Kong to secure her a position among the escort guard, donned the issued armor, tightened the leather straps around her wrists, and set off toward Tianningshan with a bold and spirited stride.

“Officer!” Someone suddenly darted up beside her in the marching column, calling out with excitement. “You’re here too?”

Sensing the situation had once been precarious for these people, Chen Baoxiang had previously arranged for them to find positions at various escort companies and minor government offices. She hadn’t expected to meet them here.

She clapped Fenghua on the shoulder with satisfaction. “You’ve all come to serve Great Sheng and seize a chance to make a name for yourselves?”

“No.” Fenghua waved his hand. “Our offices didn’t pay wages and we had nothing to eat. We heard that serving as outer perimeter guards for a single trip to Tianningshan would pay one tael of silver, so we all came.”

“Besides us, the others are scattered across different units. Everyone’s here.”

Chen Baoxiang was stunned, and then felt a pang of guilt. “I didn’t arrange things well enough for you all.”

“Not at all. Zhao Huaizhu and Wang Wu both told us — Officer, you already did everything you could.” Fenghua said. “Officer, rest assured. Once you rise again, a single word from you is all it takes, and we will pledge our loyalty once more.”

The way he said it sounded as though she were planning a rebellion.

Chen Baoxiang promptly covered Fenghua’s mouth. “All of you keep yourselves safe first. When we get back to Shangjing, I’ll buy you all meat to eat.”

The Officer always kept her word — if she said she’d buy meat, she absolutely would.

Fenghua and the others were delighted and nodded enthusiastically. They exchanged a flurry of warm words with Chen Baoxiang, and only when the drums sounded for each unit did they reluctantly return to their separate positions.

Being among the escort guard meant being physically close to important figures, but the actual work was no different from doing odd jobs — either helping someone put up a tent or fetching spring water for someone else.

Chen Baoxiang was not one to sit idle and wait. She wandered around and asked questions, and discovered that the patrol unit was short on hands for their mountain sweep.

She immediately volunteered and was assigned over.

With Lu Shouhuai dead, the post of patrol commander seemed to have fallen to someone ineffectual — not a single old officer had been replaced, and those now leading detachments on duty were still the men Lu Shouhuai had left behind.

They walked along, calling back to the soldiers behind them. “You all know this area of Tianningshan? Mountain bandits once made it their stronghold — at their peak, there were more than five thousand of them. Fortunately General Cheng was of unmatched valor, and with only five hundred men he wiped out those five thousand bandits. Otherwise, patrolling this mountain now would be sending yourselves to your deaths.”

The patrol soldiers all chimed in with praise.

Chen Baoxiang walked at the very back of the formation, thinking to herself that Cheng Huaili had truly managed to make a boast stick — at the time, there had been nothing close to five thousand bandits on that mountain. Three hundred would have been the upper limit.

“Keep up back there.” The records official continued to call out. “The terrain in these mountains is treacherous. Those unfamiliar with it could end up trapped and dying in the wild undergrowth, or falling into a trap — even the gods couldn’t save you.”

Scarcely had the words landed when the soldier walking ahead of Chen Baoxiang stepped off into a concealed ground fissure.

Chen Baoxiang moved with lightning reflexes, seizing his arm and hauling him back up. Grass, earth, and stones tumbled together into the half-zhang-wide crack, and no sound of impact came back for a long while.

The soldier was terrified and sat on the ground for some time, unable to rise.

The records official was impatient, and unleashed a torrent of abuse. “What’s wrong with you — can’t even walk properly. A pig would be more useful than you.”

Chen Baoxiang offered a mild reminder. “There are many of these fissures in this area.”

“What do you know — are you talking back to me?” The official lifted his foot to kick. “Looks to me like you’re tired of living!”

Most of the men under Lu Shouhuai’s command had little education, and their tempers were stubborn. They liked to establish dominance through beating and berating — Chen Baoxiang understood this pattern very well.

She stepped to the side to avoid taking the blow undeserved.

What she hadn’t expected was that the records official’s kick had overextended. He failed to pull it back in time, stepped through the branches and leaves nearby, and tumbled with a crash into another ground fissure.

A gaping chasm, a zhang wide, opened up like the jaws of a devouring beast.

The records official plummeted in without warning. His screams rang out across the entire abyss — deep and bottomless — growing ever more distant, ever more faint, until there was nothing left.

The soldiers nearby went pale with terror. They wanted to reach out to save him but had no time. They looked around in all directions, fear flooding their eyes.

“I said there are many fissures in this area.” Chen Baoxiang was unperturbed, and merely muttered, “Truly, kind words cannot save a man determined to meet his end.”

With that, she took a wide step forward and kept walking.