CXD - 12

It would take some time for the maids to arrive, so the study was lit again. Jiang Zhiyi sat on a monk’s bed, wrapped in quilts, sipping ginger soup little by little from a bowl, taking a sip and then glancing at the person holding a scroll by the desk across from her.

Savoring his earlier phrase “dowry maids,” she found the ginger soup in the bowl growing sweeter with each sip, almost like syrup.

Since he had acknowledged her dowry maids, this trip back to the capital must mean he was preparing to propose to her, right?

Jiang Zhiyi rested her cheek on her hand, gazing at the person across from her, and before she could stop herself, she burst out laughing.

Yuan Ce furrowed his brows and raised the book in his hand to cover his face.

...Was it really that embarrassing to accidentally say what was on his mind?

Jiang Zhiyi sighed, shifting her gaze away, tapping two fingers lightly on the small tea table, and began examining the furnishings in the room out of boredom.

The study was divided into inner and outer sections by a twelve-panel landscape screen. The outer section had a curio cabinet displaying antique ceramics, a three-tiered double-drawer bookshelf, and on the wall behind the desk hung a painting of galloping horses and a calligraphy piece with the characters “Quiet or Not” written boldly.

The inner section wasn’t fully visible, but through the now-folded screen, one could vaguely see a wider monk’s bed for lying down, and an eight-sided table with a chessboard on it.

“Brother Ce,” Jiang Zhiyi suddenly said cheerfully, setting down her teacup, “How about we play a game of chess?”

The person across from her leaned back in his chair, covering his face with the book, arms crossed, unmoving as if asleep.

“Brother Ce?” Jiang Zhiyi called again.

Yuan Ce raised one hand and pointed backward with his index finger.

Jiang Zhiyi followed where he pointed and saw the inscription on the wall—”Not.”

“...”

“Alright,” Jiang Zhiyi tilted her head, leaning on the small tea table, and after a moment’s thought, said, “Then let’s chat for a bit!”

The person across from her didn’t move again.

Jiang Zhiyi continued on her own: “We haven’t had a proper conversation since you returned to the capital. Why don’t you tell me about the borderlands?”

“Is Guzang very different from Chang’an? Did you get used to living there?”

“Life at home is quite dull, and going out only involves boring things. It’s more fun to think about you…”

“...” Yuan Ce slowly raised his hand and pointed backward again.

Jiang Zhiyi looked up and saw another inscription on the wall—”Quiet.”

“...”

The room was filled only with the soft crackling of burning charcoal.

Jiang Zhiyi closed her mouth, bored, leaning against the monk’s bed, staring absentmindedly at the charcoal stove beside her.

The faint firelight flickered, inducing drowsiness, making her eyes ache. After an indeterminate amount of time, Jiang Zhiyi’s head drooped, nodding off, and she slowly slumped onto the bed.

Yuan Ce lowered his head, and the book covering his face fell into his palm. He raised his eyes curiously to look across.

The person on the bed had silky black hair spread out like satin, lazily leaning on a pillow, curled up like a cat. Her thick lashes rested quietly under her eyes, sleeping soundly, even smacking her lips in deep sleep.

...Clearly here with an ulterior motive, yet she fell asleep so defenselessly in front of him.

After silently observing the sleeping figure for a moment, Yuan Ce pressed his forehead, stood up, feeling like he finally saw the end of this long night.

Just at this moment, a knock sounded. Guyu and Xiaoman had hurriedly arrived at the Shen residence and were about to bow upon entering.

Yuan Ce, with a cold face, made a hushing gesture and pointed across the room.

This mouth, once awake, who knows how long it would chatter.

The two maids immediately understood, tiptoed to the monk’s bed, hesitated as they reached out their hands, afraid of waking Jiang Zhiyi, unsure how to proceed.

Yuan Ce frowned, walked forward, gestured for them to step aside, bent down, lifted the person by the neck with one hand, and with the other hand under the quilt through her knees, picked her up horizontally.

Her black hair cascaded down like a waterfall, brushing against the back of his hand like ants crawling softly.

Yuan Ce’s hand under her thin shoulder stiffened slightly; he curled his fingers, exhaled deeply, turned around, and walked out.

“…Young General Shen carried you all the way into the side chamber last night and personally placed you on the bed. In the end, fearing your hair would be crushed, he carefully brushed it aside!”

Early the next morning, Jiang Zhiyi had just awakened on the bed in the western chamber when she heard Guyu vividly recounting what happened after she fell asleep last night.

Jiang Zhiyi sat on the bed with her hair loose, her sleepy eyes growing brighter as she listened: “Really?”

“Absolutely true, Xiaoman also saw it, didn’t you?” Guyu turned to look behind her.

Xiaoman, holding grooming utensils, looked up.

If she were to speak honestly, yes and no...

For instance, the mistress’s hair didn’t seem to be gently brushed aside but rather pushed aside. Young General Shen didn’t appear considerate, more like he was slightly annoyed by the hair...

Meeting Jiang Zhiyi’s expectant gaze, Xiaoman hesitated and nodded: “...More or less like that, Mistress.”

Guyu loved to flatter her to make her happy, but Xiaoman was straightforward.

Jiang Zhiyi’s lips curved upwards, and she touched the hair at the back of her neck, sliding her hand down to touch her shoulder. She looked up and asked, “Has Brother Ce gotten up?”

“Young General Shen stayed up late with you last night, and he hasn’t risen yet.”

Jiang Zhiyi, full of joy, got off the bed, sat in front of the dressing mirror, and urged, “That’s perfect, hurry and dress me.”

Xiaoman and Guyu took out a stack of cosmetic boxes brought from home.

Jiang Zhiyi picked up a hairpin from a row of pearl hairpins and compared it to her bun, deciding on this set. Then she lowered her head to choose a floral design, satisfied, leaned back, closed her eyes, and let the two attend to her.

Jiang Zhiyi: “Last night while I was not at the residence, was everything peaceful?”

“Lady entered the small Buddha hall, and the Jinwu Guards were returned to the palace. No one dared to inquire about your affairs. Those who knew you were absent acted as if they didn’t know.” Guyu styled her hair and recalled something, “By the way, there’s news from Zheng County. Sister Jingzhe woke up and, worried about you, wants to rush back to the capital.”

Jiang Zhiyi opened her eyes: “That won’t do!”

Due to multiple fractures requiring pain relief medicine, Jingzhe had been semi-conscious in the medical clinic in Zheng County. Jiang Zhiyi had previously sent money and two maids to take care of her.

Recovering from bone injuries takes a hundred days. The physician said she shouldn’t even attempt to get up, let alone endure the bumpy journey back, as it might leave her disabled.

“Pass my message: The bandit issue is resolved, and I’m getting along well with Brother Ce. Tell her to rest properly and not to move around until she’s lively and bouncing!” After saying this, Jiang Zhiyi waved her hand and corrected herself, “Never mind mentioning Brother Ce. She has always been the one running errands and delivering messages between me and Brother Ce. Don’t let her worry about my marriage while lying in bed.”

Guyu responded affirmatively: “You’ve already moved into the Shen residence. How could this marriage not happen? We servants think you’ll soon have to start calling him ‘Master’!”

Beside them, Xiaoman had just finished drawing Jiang Zhiyi’s eyebrows and glanced outside, casually blurting, “The master is out!”

“?” At the entrance of the main house, Yuan Ce paused with one foot on the threshold, raising his head cautiously with a wary expression.

Jiang Zhiyi glanced outside, rose with her half-done hairstyle, and opened the door: “Brother Ce!”

The young servant sweeping snow in the courtyard suddenly looked up, seeing a young maiden with half-tied black hair running out of the side chamber, her crimson ribbon fluttering in the sunlight like a vibrant butterfly flying into the snowy wilderness.

A group of servants, startled, quickly turned their backs and bowed their heads.

“Brother Ce, where are you going?” Jiang Zhiyi ran up to ask.

Yuan Ce’s gaze swept over her delicate brows and red lips, pale cheeks like snow, pausing slightly.

Remembering the extremely casual “Master” he heard earlier, his expression darkened again: “To pick someone up.”

“To pick someone up? Who?”

Yuan Ce raised an eyebrow: “Since this residence can accommodate the Princess, naturally it can accommodate others.”

“You’re accommodating someone else…” Jiang Zhiyi blinked, puzzled, pondering the subtext of his words and muttered softly, “Can this courtyard hide two maidens?”

“There’s no hiding, so please tidy yourself up after finishing and vacate the side chamber for my new guest.” Yuan Ce nodded at her in parting and gestured to Qingsong behind him, “Escort the Princess out—use the back door.”

Before Jiang Zhiyi could react, Yuan Ce had turned and stepped into the snow.

Jiang Zhiyi stood still, incredulously watching his retreating figure—

What?!

On this chilly, melting snow day, few people were on the streets, and the main gate of the Shen residence had seen little traffic all day.

Until dusk, a carriage covered in frost and snow drove into the street. At the forefront, Yuan Ce led the way on horseback, pulling the reins in front of the mansion.

Qingsong, waiting at the gate, immediately approached, greeted Mu Xinhong driving the carriage, and took the reins from Yuan Ce: “Did you successfully bring the person back, Master?”

Yuan Ce nodded and instructed the two strong servants behind Qingsong: “Go up and carry the person carefully.”

Qingsong followed Yuan Ce into the mansion, curious about who was in the carriage, wondering why their master personally went to the outskirts to fetch them and why the deputy general of the Xuan Ce Army personally drove the carriage, as if afraid of bumping or jostling the person inside.

Could it really be the “beauty” hidden in a golden cage?

Qingsong secretly turned his head and caught sight of a stretcher being taken down from the carriage, carrying a gaunt, middle-aged man with a gray complexion, covered in a white blanket, resembling a corpse…

Qingsong was startled and quickly turned his head back, swallowing nervously: “Uh, Master, the Princess has left the residence. You can settle the person in the western chamber.”

Yuan Ce turned to look at him in surprise: “She’s already gone?”

“Ah? I risked my life to escort her. Surely, you didn’t want the Princess to stay, did you…”

“Of course not.” Walking into the eastern courtyard, Yuan Ce pushed open the door of the western chamber and looked around.

The room was empty, but a sweet, cloying fragrance lingered, whether from makeup or something else.

Quilts, makeup mirrors, porcelain cups, jade basins… a pile of items brought last night remained.

Yuan Ce: “The person’s gone, and the room isn’t tidied up?”

“I thought you brought back a maiden. Considering the Princess’s belongings are fine things, maybe they’d come in handy…”

Yuan Ce turned his head, puzzled, as if questioning how this brain of his managed to serve in the eastern courtyard for so many years.

“Then I’ll quickly clear these things! Since the Princess didn’t take them, she probably doesn’t need them anymore…”

Qingsong entered the room and hastily cleared the items, leaving the room nearly bare in moments.

Watching the side chamber gradually return to its original sparseness, somehow, it felt like hearing last night’s incessant noise again. Yuan Ce rubbed his earlobes and suddenly clicked his tongue: “Forget it.”

Rather than letting the noble Princess come here to dictate terms again, it might as well keep the chamber.

Qingsong stopped mid-action, holding a pile of items: “Not clearing them anymore, Master?”

Yuan Ce nodded, pointing to a direction outside the door: “Carry them to the opposite side.”

The two strong servants carried the person on the stretcher to the eastern chamber across the way.

Outside, Mu Xinhong heard what happened last night after much deliberation and grew anxious, scratching his ears and cheeks: “Young General, we haven’t figured out what the Princess is plotting, and you’ve already invited a wolf into the house!”

“If we don’t invite the wolf in, how will we know what she’s plotting?”

“So last night, you were actually trying to—”

Yuan Ce snorted softly.

If he had any doubts before that the Princess genuinely harbored romantic feelings towards her former “nemesis,” last night’s emotionless performance outside the door confirmed she had ulterior motives.

Something significant must be motivating the pampered Princess to endure two hours of cold wind without giving up.

Mu Xinhong gave a thumbs-up: “Still, Young General, your method of risking yourself must have uncovered something?”

“...” Yuan Ce glanced at him and turned towards the study.

Qingsong quietly reminded, “General Mu, don’t bring up what shouldn’t be mentioned!”

Not only did they uncover nothing, but they ended up making themselves candidates for the role of the Princess’s dowry maid’s groom!

“Ah?” Mu Xinhong hurriedly followed Yuan Ce, desperately racking his brain to say something to remedy the situation.

Following all the way to the study door, Mu Xinhong eagerly opened the door for Yuan Ce, following him in and closing the door behind him: “Young General, after much thought, do you think the Princess might be suspicious of your identity...”

Yuan Ce abruptly raised his hand to stop him.

Mu Xinhong froze, standing still, feeling a chill run down his spine as he watched Yuan Ce’s suddenly darkened expression, sensing the air grow colder, filling with an eerie, chilling atmosphere.

Mu Xinhong’s face tightened, slowly placing his hand on his waist sword, scanning the room with his eyes.

Yuan Ce’s gaze suddenly paused, picking up a porcelain vase from the curio cabinet, and threw it towards the landscape screen in the room.

A deafening crash resounded, shattering the porcelain vase and causing the entire twelve-panel screen to collapse.

Behind the screen, the young maiden reclining on the monk’s bed jumped up with a start, looking at the mess on the ground, dumbfounded, meeting Yuan Ce’s stormy eyes.

Mu Xinhong’s hairs stood on end instantly, seeing the Princess who should have left, remembering his fatal words from earlier, and turned his head—

He saw the exposed murderous intent in Yuan Ce’s eyes as he stared at Jiang Zhiyi.