Chen Baoxiang was as good as her word. With the patrol officers and the fifty elite guards borrowed from the Princess’s estate, she had every assassin inside and outside the residence cleaned out in under half an hour.

She deliberately announced publicly that all the criminals had been captured alive and would be interrogated separately.

Before long, all manner of unsavory characters emerged from the woodwork. One said the interrogation had to follow proper procedure through the Court of Justice; another said the case fell within their precinct and they needed to come take over.

Chen Baoxiang had Bikong record each of them in a ledger and hand it to the Princess Imperial, then continued to wait patiently, curious what other fish might be lured in.

But what she never expected was that a few days later, Zhang Ting’an sat down across from her.

“An assassination attempt in an official’s residence in Shangjing — by rights that falls under the joint responsibility of the Patrol Camp, the City Defense Army, and the Ward Prohibition forces.” Chen Baoxiang was puzzled. “What does the Forbidden Mobile Army have to do with this?”

Zhang Ting’an still had that stern set to his jaw, a face full of thick stubble, looking very much in an unpleasant mood.

He said: “I’m not here on official business. I only wanted to come check on Fengqing.”

Chen Baoxiang was taken aback.

It had already been three days. She realized she hadn’t really seen Zhang Fengqing much at all.

She scratched her head and asked Bikong quietly: “Where is Lord Zhang?”

Bikong said: “He spent two days recovering from his injuries, and as soon as he seemed well enough he went back to his duties. He hasn’t returned to the residence yet.”

Recovering from injuries?

New ones or old ones?

Chen Baoxiang didn’t have the nerve to ask that out loud. She rubbed her chin and tried to recall.

The night the assassins were dealt with, it had been very late. She’d been worried about Han Xiao and slept in the main room with her. Zhang Zhixu had apparently come to look in on things, said nothing, and left.

The two days after that, she’d been dealing with officials from various departments every single day — reinforcing patrols near the wards, interrogating suspects, so busy she barely had time to sleep, let alone give any thought to him.

“Judging by your reaction, it seems you don’t particularly care about him either.” Zhang Ting’an narrowed his eyes slightly.

Chen Baoxiang came back to herself, and said, displeased: “What, did you come to hand over more silver notes, General?”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Zhang Ting’an said. “You’re His Highness’s favorite now, a commanding officer with real power. I can’t do anything to you. I only wanted to ask — do you know about Fengqing refusing the marriage?”

“To claim I didn’t know would be a bit dishonest.”

Zhang Ting’an nodded: “After Princess Ruyi returned from Mount Tianfeng, she fell gravely ill and couldn’t even leave her bed. By rights the imperial edict granting the marriage would be postponed, but the Emperor has still directed the Ministry of Rites to prepare the full ceremonies, intending to bestow the marriage on the day of Fengqing’s coming-of-age rite.”

The Emperor’s mind was made up. Zhang Ting’an even sensed that even if Princess Ruyi didn’t survive, the Emperor would designate another princess and still see Zhang Zhixu installed as her consort.

“Fengqing didn’t want to implicate his family, which is why he severed ties with the Zhang Family. He has always been a very good child.” Zhang Ting’an looked down. “But the Zhang Family may not have deserved him.”

Chen Baoxiang’s gaze turned somber.

“A dragon and phoenix contend above the imperial city. The great battle draws near. The Zhang Family is a distinguished clan of a hundred years — though they say they are loyal only to whoever sits upon the throne, they would never stake everything on a single outcome.”

“The clan had sent a few sons from cadet branches into the Princess’s estate as well, hoping to secure a path of retreat. But you know — that one has eyes that can’t tolerate the tiniest grain of sand. If you choose her, you choose her alone. She absolutely will not permit anyone to try to play both sides.”

So submitting to the Princess’s camp wouldn’t be enough to prove one’s position. An open break with the new Emperor was the only thing that could demonstrate true loyalty.

And now, Zhang Zhixu was the only one who had had the courage to step forward and make that break.

“Fengqing truly wants to leave the Zhang Family and establish himself independently. But the other members of the clan have been calculating how to use him as a stepping stone.” He continued: “Do you know what that path would look like?”

There was no smile on Chen Baoxiang’s face. A bone-chilling cold seemed to emanate from her entire being.

She said: “How else could they do it? They want to find a fallback position on the Princess’s side — and I happen to be the Princess’s most favored person.”

What was the most respectable way to refuse an imperial marriage before the edict came down?

The answer, of course, was to marry someone else first.

This potential spouse would have to be powerful enough that they couldn’t easily be eliminated, and backed by a force formidable enough to stand against the Emperor.

They might as well have pointed her in the face while beating a great gong.

If the scheme succeeded, the Zhang Family could comfortably play the fence on both sides — if Li Bingsheng won, Zhang Zhixu would surely do everything to protect the Zhang Family; if Li Bingsheng lost, it wouldn’t matter either, since ties had already been severed.

Chen Baoxiang set aside the contempt and mockery in her eyes, and first raised her gaze to ask the man across from her: “Why are you telling me this?”

“If Fengqing truly came to you to arrange a marriage, I wouldn’t say a word about it.” Zhang Ting’an’s brow was knitted tight, and his breathing had grown heavier. “But yesterday — he refused the elders’ proposal.”

“…” Her eyebrow lifted slightly.

Clever as Zhang Zhixu was — how could he not have known this was the best possible choice? He had those feelings himself already; he should have gone along with the current.

And yet he had refused?

Her fingertip curled inward without thinking. Chen Baoxiang maintained her outward composure: “He refused. What did the others in the Zhang Family say?”

Zhang Ting’an let out a long sigh.

“Those elders in the clan have always had a way of grinding away at anyone with a rebellious bone.” He said. “Of late, Fengqing is constantly being dispatched to distant villages to collect grain. The offices he deals with not only refuse to ease the way for him — they make things as difficult as possible at every turn.”

“His mother has fallen ill recently, and he must travel back and forth to attend to her.”

“I heard from Master Sun the physician that his wound doesn’t seem to be healing very well, either.”

The smooth sleeve in her hand was slowly being twisted into creases.

Zhang Zhixu had been going through all this lately?

And hadn’t said a word of it to her — or rather, she hadn’t given him any opportunity to say it.

Chen Baoxiang felt her vengeful streak ran rather deep. Whenever something that had hurt her occurred, she held on to it, and at some unguarded moment she would find a way to return it exactly as it had been given.

That night she’d charged into the back courtyard, she hadn’t asked where he was injured, hadn’t even looked at him twice. Others assumed she’d been too worried about Han Xiao, but only Chen Baoxiang herself knew — she was seizing the chance to vent her anger.

She’d simply wanted to see him as bewildered and pained as she had once been.

This wasn’t a good way to resolve things — weighing emotions on a scale, hurting each other, everyone losing in the end. But it was the approach that made her feel genuinely fair and satisfied, deep down in her bones. She’d likely do it again.

Chen Baoxiang poured a cup of tea and passed it to Zhang Ting’an: “Having said all this, are you asking me to go persuade him to take the elders’ advice?”

“No.” Zhang Ting’an shook his head. “That child has had so little say in his own life since he was small. It’s rare for him to make a decision for himself, and I want to see it through for him. My reason for coming to you today is simply to hand you a merit.”

“What merit?”

He rose, glanced around to confirm no one else was within earshot, and said in a low voice: “The merit of having persuaded Zhang Ting’an to do as Her Highness wishes.”