Zhu Yushen looked away. “This question—I cannot answer it.”

“What do you mean you cannot answer?” Shen Jun found it almost laughable. “So you’re saying that when Little Xi and I were being hunted down, you actually knew about it?”

Zhu Yushen fell silent for a moment, then nodded. “Yes.”

Shen Jun looked at him in bewildered incomprehension, only now realizing that after all these years, she had never truly seen this man clearly.

When she first met him, she was still young. The princely youth was handsome and composed, with profound eyes that seemed to hold the sun and moon unchanging through eternity. The first time she saw him, she liked him.

Back then, young Miss Shen hadn’t yet understood what affection was. Accustomed to watching her father and mother’s loving relationship, she instinctively felt that if one cared deeply for someone, one should always be with them, cater to their preferences, and over time, once they recognized and remembered you, being liked by them wouldn’t be far off.

Shen Jun had a straightforward nature—not as gentle and graceful as Shen Jing, nor as quick-witted as Shen Xi—but fortunately, she had abundant and enduring enthusiasm.

After meeting Zhu Yushen and learning that he was the Fourth Prince from the palace, she pestered Shen Xi to help her devise strategies to create such a destined connection.

Shen Xi resented how she quarreled with him daily, so he gave her nothing but terrible advice. For instance, since Zhu Yushen went to the Northern Barracks every day at the hour of Yin, passing through Chongming Lane on horseback, she could wake up every day at the hour of Chou and wait at the entrance of Chongming Lane. Or, for another example, when you like someone you should cater to their interests—you certainly couldn’t compete with him in martial arts, but you could weave some sword tassels as gifts.

When Shen Xi said this, Shen Jun actually did it.

Unfortunately, the sky was too dark at the hour of Yin. She stood at the entrance of Chongming Lane for half a year without even crossing paths with Zhu Yushen once. The sword tassels she wove were too ugly—not one was presentable—though she did give quite a few to Twelve and Thirteen.

If it hadn’t been for that one time when Zhu Yushen came to the Eastern Palace to find Thirteen and she happened to be there, with Thirteen casually mentioning, “This is the third young miss of the Shen family,” who knows how long it would have taken Fourth Brother to recognize her.

Later, Zhu Nanxian explained to her: “My Fourth Brother is different from the other brothers. His mother is Consort Qi. He was born in a military camp and raised in one. After the Great Sui was established, his exceptional talent earned him Father Emperor’s special permission to be trained as a general. He follows military discipline in everything, so he rarely attends palace banquets, and when he does come, he leaves in a hurry.”

Shen Jun had been learning martial arts at the Qi estate since she was five, but being young, she only studied casually to amuse herself. It wasn’t until that day that she truly resolved to master real skills—first, to make Zhu Yushen view her with new respect; second, since Zhu Yushen was being raised as a general, he would surely go on campaigns in the future, and if she had martial skills, she could accompany him; third, Zhu Yushen occasionally came to the Qi estate, so she could frequently appear before his eyes to become familiar to him.

But she only became familiar to his eyes.

In the fourteenth year of Jingyuan, Shen Jun was enfeoffed as a county princess.

Spring came very early that year. The peach trees in the palace’s front garden had just budded when a piece of news set the entire palace abuzz—Zhu Yushen’s Shiying sword had gone missing.

They said it had fallen into water. Guards were dispatched to dredge Taiye Lake and Yao River for two days but found nothing.

His Majesty was furious and had Fourth Prince given fifty strokes of the rod, nearly crippling him. Afterward, he ordered him confined to Qiushi Palace, forbidding casual visits.

Shen Jun was extremely worried but could only hear about Fourth Brother’s condition from Thirteen. It wasn’t until March, on the day of her enfeoffment as county princess, when she heard the prohibition had been lifted, that she begged Shen Xi to accompany her to see Zhu Yushen.

Shen Xi was very unhappy. Upon reaching the palace gate, he casually plucked a green peach and popped it in his mouth. “You go in by yourself. Once you’ve embarrassed yourself, come out immediately. This young master won’t follow behind you picking up your dignity.”

Qiushi Palace wasn’t large. Passing through a peach grove led to the main palace courtyard.

Zhu Yushen had just emerged from the study. His complexion showed the pallor of one barely recovered from illness. Dressed only in light robes, with his martial bearing subdued, he presented a rare picture of refined elegance.

Seeing the person standing in the courtyard, he paused. “Third Miss Shen?”

After a moment, he asked softly, “Why have you come?”

What did he mean, “Why have you come?”

Shouldn’t she come? She hadn’t seen him since the new year began. She’d worried about him all spring, finally managing to slip away using her enfeoffment as county princess as an excuse.

Shen Jun’s spirits deflated. At fourteen years old, even someone as carefree as her possessed that precious delicacy of feeling.

One moment soaring in the heavens, the next plunging into the nine depths of the underworld—feeling that these years of wholehearted devotion had all flowed away like water. Why had she come? She shouldn’t have come at all.

Shen Jun curtsied in greeting. “Oh, nothing much. Little Xi couldn’t sleep and was worried about Fourth Brother’s injuries, so he asked me to come check on you.”

She maintained perfect composure, yet grievance filled every feature.

The two young ladies of the capital’s Shen residence—one more beautiful than the other.

At fourteen, standing beneath a crabapple tree, even in her grievance, she outshone the flowers in loveliness.

The late spring blossoms bore dew, glistening wetly. Zhu Yushen looked at her and suddenly said, “Third Sister, I’m leaving.”

The backbone Shen Jun had just mustered to turn and leave was instantly extinguished. “Where to?”

Zhu Yushen fell silent for a moment. “Beiping.”

Since the dynasty’s founding, warfare in the northern frontier had been constant. Just yesterday she’d heard Father and Little Xi discussing how news had arrived of Zhu Xun’s defeat. His Majesty was furious beyond measure—were it not for him being the Empress’s cousin, he would have ordered his execution.

Shen Jun asked, “Is Fourth Brother going on campaign again? Will you follow General Luo this time too?”

Zhu Yushen shook his head. “My injuries have healed. In three days, I will petition Father Emperor to lead the campaign myself.”

After a pause, he continued, “Father Emperor has long intended for me to establish my princedom in Beiping. I’m afraid that after this campaign, I’ll remain there, staying in the north from then on, guarding the borders of the Great Sui.”

What did that mean? That from now on, she wouldn’t see him in this palace or at the Qi estate anymore?

She also recalled this morning’s tea with the palace ladies after her enfeoffment ceremony, hearing them gossip about palace affairs, mentioning something about betrothing the eldest daughter of the Zeng family to the prince who would establish his princedom in Beiping. So—they meant to betroth her to Fourth Brother?

Shen Jun frowned and lowered her eyes.

She felt somewhat angry, yet utterly aggrieved. Angry because she felt so useless—he was leaving and she could do nothing about it. Aggrieved because after all these years, he didn’t even know her feelings. Little Xi always told her that women should be gentle and reserved like Second Sister to be appealing, making her unsure whether she should tell him: don’t marry some Miss Zeng, marry me instead.

The wind brushed past, scattering several petals and leaves from the crabapple blossoms.

Zhu Yushen looked at her, walked to a nearby weapons rack, drew out a somewhat shorter red-tasseled spear, and handed it to her. “This is for you.”

A crabapple petal brushed down from her eyelashes, soft and tender, drifting and swaying until it settled on the ground.

Shen Jun lifted her head, looking at him in astonishment.

He was composed, merely saying, “You’ve studied martial arts since childhood—I know. I’ve watched you practice at the Qi estate. Of the eighteen classical weapons, I thought the red-tasseled spear suited you best.”

The day Zhu Yushen departed for campaign was three days later, during the Grain Rain festival of continuous rain.

Shen Jun slept with the red-tasseled spear as her pillow, tossing and turning all night. Whether her eyes were open or closed, waking or dreaming—it was all him.

So these years of affection had long since become “it must be you or no one.” If that was the case, what did restraint or reserve matter?

Before dawn, she rode directly to Xianchi Gate, alone blocking the three armies. Gripping the red-tasseled spear crosswise, she looked toward Zhu Yushen, broke into a smile, and declared loudly and joyfully, “Fourth Brother, as you depart for campaign, Third Sister comes to see you off. Third Sister will wait for you to return and marry me—however long it takes doesn’t matter. Whenever you return, that’s when you can marry me!”

The woman in crimson robes holding the red-tasseled spear was more brilliant than the spring morning itself, her devastating beauty shining straight into the heart.

The three armies fell silent for an instant. The next moment, earth-shaking clamor and commotion erupted.

Only then did she seem to understand what she had actually done. Her gaze no longer dared meet his, focusing only on the red-tasseled spear, as if the crimson tassels on this spear were the only promise that could give her peace of mind.

Something upon which to pledge her entire life.

The scarlet color of those tassels had remained vivid through the years, just as the affection she had given him—enduring separation, war, and illness—had never wavered in the slightest.

Until yesterday.

Until—before her very eyes, he spoke of all those past causes and consequences.

It turned out that everything she had cherished was false.

Her elder sister—he had caused her death. Thirteen—he had caused his death. Their entire Shen family had been viewed by him as obstacles on his path to the throne, carefully calculated against.

Shen Jun leaned against the palace door, clutching at her chest as if suffocating, taking several deep breaths before asking, “How do you expect me to… face Little Xi in the future? How do I explain this to him?”

Her entire body trembled slightly, as if unwilling to see him anymore. Supporting herself on the door, she turned to leave but suddenly collapsed to her knees by the doorway. Her knee struck the threshold with a sharp pain, yet how could such pain compare to even half of what she felt in her heart?

Tears suddenly rolled down. A piercing, sweet pain spread through her lungs and throat, making her unable to help but clutch her neck as she dry-heaved.

She regretted everything.

She should have let Little Xi drown him. Should have let him drown in that lake.

Now that Thirteen was dead—if she lived, she had no face to see Little Xi; if she died, she had no face to see Elder Sister.

Watching Shen Jun like this, Zhu Yushen’s hands at his sides clenched and released. He wanted to help her, had just extended his hand, when he saw her brow furrow slightly, her eyes suddenly turn fierce. She picked up the red-tasseled spear from the ground and thrust it forward, stabbing toward his chest.

Zhu Yushen froze, momentarily forgetting to dodge aside.

Yet at the instant the red-tasseled spear was about to pierce his heart, the spearhead suddenly deflected upward by three inches, unconsciously losing force, and embedded itself in his left shoulder instead.

Blood immediately spread in a dark stain.

Shen Jun stared blankly at her uncontrolled hand, which seemed to still remember their past affection, as if witnessing the most laughable joke in the world.

She should kill him. Should make him die.

She remained quiet for a moment, then suddenly pulled the red-tasseled spear forcefully from his shoulder. Holding it upright before her, she stepped on its base and violently broke the shaft against a nearby crossbeam.

The dense wood shaft split in two. The crimson tassels fell to the ground, still brilliantly red yet drained of life.

“All these years, I misjudged you.”

“Between you and me, in this life and the next—all kindness and obligation are severed!”

Having spoken these words, Shen Jun swept her robes and strode toward the outer hall without looking back.

Upon exiting Jinshen Hall, Zhu Yiheng had somehow already arrived with attendants. Serving maids and several officials were waiting outside. Upon seeing her, they hastily knelt in obeisance. “We subjects—pay respects to Her Majesty the Empress—”

Shen Jun’s steps halted. “I am not your Empress.”

She raised her eyes toward the dilapidated Minghua Palace tower, her crimson robes like yesterday’s blazing fire.

“Remember this well—I, Shen Jun, in this life, recognize only Zhu Jin’an as Emperor!”