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A few more days passed, and on the twelfth day of the month, during the Rain Water season, as households prayed, the sound of firecrackers from General Long’s residence echoed through half the sky.
Today was General Long’s wedding day. He had followed his own will and insisted on marrying Liu Zhi as his wife.
A simple maid had become the sole official wife of the most powerful general in court—a story that became a major sensation in Taiping Prefecture, second only to Prince Ru’an’s serious illness in terms of public attention.
On the way to revisit Prince Ru’an for a follow-up diagnosis, Di Jiang, Wen Yao, and Shuxiang passed by the General’s residence. They happened to see Long Ming and Liu Zhi bowing to each other as husband and wife under the quiet threshold.
With both sets of parents deceased, there were no elders to preside over their wedding, and having offended the Empress, they faced no blessings from heaven or earth. Such individuals, unencumbered by worldly ties, could only be driven by true love to act so recklessly, right?
“Perhaps they have the fortune to love but not the blessing to enjoy it,” Shuxiang coldly remarked.
Di Jiang nodded, not optimistic about their future.
Most officials, mindful of the Empress’s feelings, refrained from attending the celebration. Thus, the General’s residence remained eerily empty on this wedding day, with only a handful of people from within the household and a few close friends of Long Ming present.
Even with such a small gathering, Long Ming and Liu Zhi radiated joy, their happiness so sweet and heartfelt that it moved even bystanders to tears.
Everyone knew the pressures and obstacles they had faced to reach this point. Some envied Liu Zhi’s good fortune, while others secretly cursed Long Ming for offending the royal family.
“Princess Zhaohe is far more beautiful than Liu Zhi! Why did he marry a mere maid?”
“What use is beauty? I’ve heard Princess Zhaohe has a terrible temper!”
“Why should only a princess be worthy of a great general? I think they’re a fine match!”
The crowd whispered among themselves.
Di Jiang and Shuxiang wore faint, mocking smiles, while Wen Yao, unusually sentimental, gushed with admiration: “Liu Zhi married such a wonderful husband—it’s the fortune of several lifetimes!”
Di Jiang shook her head: “Their path ahead will likely be harder than ever before.”
“Why?” Wen Yao asked, puzzled. “The Empress always keeps her word; if she said she wouldn’t interfere with his marriage, she won’t. Right now, Wu Jingyi is in dire straits, and even Prince Ru’an is gravely ill. Who else would bother them?”
“I don’t know,” Di Jiang smiled. “But there’s an old saying: ‘A cuckoo occupies the magpie’s nest,’ and another: ‘Everyone returns to their rightful place.’ Karma is unforgiving. Whether human or ghost, all will eventually return to their true form, won’t they?”
“What do you mean?” Wen Yao pressed Di Jiang, but she ignored her.
“Do you understand?” Wen Yao then asked Shuxiang, who also paid her no mind.
Wen Yao pouted all the way, unable to comprehend why she disliked the domineering young lady so much and felt compelled to argue.
“She’s a princess—does that make her superior? Should everyone bow to her? Can’t there be a General Long who marries the woman he loves?” Wen Yao persisted, bombarding Di Jiang and Shuxiang with questions. Both looked exasperated.
Di Jiang finally handed her the blood jade and said, “Ask her yourself.”
“Who?”
Before Wen Yao could finish, the moment she took the blood jade, Wu Jingyi’s voice rang out in her mind: “So I wish them a hundred years of happiness together, as long as they never appear before me again. Is that acceptable?”
Wen Yao nodded dumbly: “If you can let go, then it’s fine.”
Wu Jingyi didn’t respond.
Wen Yao had expected Wu Jingyi to persist in seeking revenge, but she clearly intended to sever all ties with them. It was like a dramatic tale ending abruptly after the climax, leaving the audience restless and dissatisfied.
Feeling as though she had been seen through, Wen Yao tried to console Wu Jingyi: “Although someone like General Long is rare, you are a princess. You can have any man you desire—why fight for someone else’s husband, right?”
Wu Jingyi still didn’t reply.
“No matter how sweet their life together may be, it won’t compare to yours, right? Try to think differently.”
“Cough—”
“Cough, cough…”
Di Jiang and Shuxiang both coughed twice, while Wu Jingyi remained silent.
Wen Yao looked dejected, seeing no one responding to her. Awkwardly scratching her head, she finally fell silent.
When they arrived at Prince Ru’an’s residence, they found that half the imperial physicians had already left, leaving only a few senior ones to tend to him. However, the number of monks sent by the Grand Master had increased, though Di Jiang had yet to see the Grand Master himself.
She was curious about what the foremost practitioner of magic in the court might look like.
Three heads and six arms? Or omnipotent power?
Just imagining it made her heart race with excitement.
“What are you smiling about, Boss?” Wen Yao asked.
“Hmm?” Di Jiang blinked. “I’m not smiling.”
“You are! Your eyes are sparkling.”
“You’re mistaken!” Di Jiang retorted, taking the blood jade from Wen Yao. “I have matters to attend to. Go check on the prince first. Shuxiang, come with me.”
“Yes!” Hearing she’d see the prince, Wen Yao forgot everything else. In her mind, nothing mattered more than the prince.
Thus, Di Jiang took Shuxiang to the eastern wing of Princess Zhaohe’s residence.
Di Jiang opened the blood jade, and Wu Jingyi’s spirit floated out.
“Are you sure you want to stay here?”
“Yes.” Wu Jingyi nodded firmly.
“There are many monks here. Staying might not be beneficial for you.”
“I’m not afraid of vanishing into dust. I just fear not seeing my brother one last time.”
“Very well.” Di Jiang consented, waving her hand to conceal Wu Jingyi’s presence, ensuring she wouldn’t be accidentally harmed by wandering practitioners.
Wu Jingyi said nothing more, quietly sitting by the window, gazing pensively outside. Though the prayers for rain continued in waves, they couldn’t drown out the festive music from the nearby General’s residence.
“Today is General Long’s wedding. Does the princess not wish to see him?” Di Jiang sighed.
Wu Jingyi shook her head: “I’ve already seen him at the gold shop.”
“That doesn’t count.”
“Sister Mei’s behavior that day was appropriate. If he doesn’t see me, why should I persist?”
“True…” Di Jiang sighed, unsure how to comfort her.
Wu Jingyi turned her gaze away, staring blankly at a pipa hanging on the wall. The wooden pipa, unpainted and crudely made, didn’t resemble a valuable instrument. A closer look revealed two strings installed incorrectly—clear evidence of amateur craftsmanship.
When Di Jiang first saw it, she assumed it belonged to Sister Mei, but judging by the princess’s expression now, it must be her cherished possession.
“It’s strange that the princess brought this crudely made pipa from her palace and placed it in Prince Ru’an’s residence,” Di Jiang thought, silently noting it.
From the main hall came a cacophony of sounds, as if something significant had occurred.
Wu Jingyi immediately thought of Prince Ru’an’s worsening condition and hurriedly stood up: “My brother is in grave danger. I’ll go see him. Doctor Di, please excuse me.”
“Alright.” Di Jiang nodded.
After Wu Jingyi drifted away, Di Jiang took down the pipa. As she suspected, carved on the back was a name, along with a line of poetry:
‘Though we lack phoenix wings to soar together, our hearts share a single telepathic connection.’ The calligraphy was elegant and refined, quite beautiful. Beside the poem, the name ‘Long Ming’ was inscribed in bold, fluid strokes, starkly contrasting with the delicate verse.
Clearly, these were not written by the same hand.
“Shuxiang.”
“Yes.”
“Take the pipa to General Long’s residence. Address it under Princess Zhaohe’s name.”
“Yes.” Shuxiang glanced at it briefly, said nothing more, and left with the pipa.
Through her years of interaction with Wen Yao, Di Jiang had developed a keen sense for gossip. At a glance, she knew there was something suspicious here.
Di Jiang was now very curious about how General Long would react upon seeing this pipa.
Over the next three days, Prince Ru’an’s condition worsened daily. By the fifteenth day, he could no longer eat or drink, and medicine could no longer be administered.
During these three days, Di Jiang had been confined to the residence to tend to the prince, unable to leave or know what was happening outside. Meanwhile, Sister Mei’s whereabouts remained a mystery.
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