CXD - 15

In the eastern courtyard of the Shen residence, Mu Xinhong returned from the Yong’en Marquis’s residence, his waist sword clinking as he entered the study with a jubilant stride. He saluted Yuan Ce with a military bow, but before he could speak, Yuan Ce raised a hand to silence him.

Mu Xinhong immediately closed his mouth, glanced around the room, and seeing no one else present, focused his gaze upward—

It turned out that the jade pendant was being pieced together for the final, most crucial step.

By the desk, Qingsong held his breath, assisting Yuan Ce. Using tweezers, he carefully placed the dot they had found last night onto the jade, terrified that even a single breath might shatter it.

They silently counted to ten, waiting for the glue to dry and the jade pendant to take shape.

Mission accomplished.

Mu Xinhong clenched his fists in triumph, his joy growing even more radiant.

Yuan Ce exhaled deeply, leaning back against the chair and rubbing the back of his neck. With a tilt of his chin, he gestured: “Speak.”

Mu Xinhong: “Reporting to the young general, the gift has been delivered. As they say, you can’t hit a smiling face or scold someone bearing gifts. The princess’s attendants graciously accepted it!”

Last night, Qingsong had suggested sending something special—something those noble sons couldn’t come up with. Inspired, Mu Xinhong recalled how the princess had once shown great interest in the young general’s sword during her visit to the military camp—

What could be more unique than a sword as a gift?

Could those noble sons casually produce a sword?

Even if they could produce one, could they produce a whole box of them?

One desires, the other provides—it was a match made in heaven, guaranteed success!

Mu Xinhong gleefully made a pinching gesture: “Young General, rest assured. This box of fine swords will surely captivate the princess!”

Before his words faded, a soldier who had been sent to wait for news at the entrance of the Yong’en Marquis’s residence rushed in: “Report—!”

Yuan Ce opened his eyes slightly.

“I told you so,” Mu Xinhong smacked his thigh. “Has the princess sent word to see the young general?”

The soldier glanced at the self-satisfied Mu Xinhong, hesitated, and lowered his head: “Reporting to the young general, I didn’t wait for a message from the princess. Instead, your box of swords was thrown out, and the entire marquis’s residence suddenly went on lockdown. It’s now surrounded like an iron barrel—no fly could get in…”

“…”

Late into the quiet night, in the sleeping quarters of the Yaoguang Pavilion, Jiang Zhiyi sat motionless on the bed, dressed in a plain white sleeping gown, hugging her knees from the hour of xu until nearly hai .

Beside her, Guyu, who was keeping watch, saw her reluctance to sleep and dared not urge her.

This morning, upon receiving the box of swords, the princess had initially been both angry and frightened. Guyu consoled her, saying the swords were likely a reminder not to pester or disturb. If she and Shen Yuan Ce parted ways forever, all would surely be peaceful.

But after hearing this, the princess stopped panicking and being angry, instead falling into her current state, remaining silent all day.

…Her careless words!

Guyu spent the entire evening thinking of ways to make amends but came up with nothing. As the atmosphere grew increasingly somber, a soft “meow” broke the silence in the quiet room.

The princess’s cat suddenly called out toward the window.

“Shh—” Guyu quickly moved to stroke the cat’s fur. “Tiger, be good. Don’t disturb the princess.”

“Meow meow—” But the cat struggled under her hands, stretching its neck and calling louder, impossible to quiet.

“Princess, Tiger must be hungry. Let me take it out…”

From the other side of the bed, Jiang Zhiyi finally stirred, her expression calm as she glanced over: “You go out too. No need to keep watch tonight.”

“How can I leave the princess alone tonight…”

“You yourself said he wouldn’t really come to kill me—just a warning not to bother him anymore.”

Guyu lowered her head sheepishly, realizing her earlier words had upset the princess. The cat in her arms continued to squirm and meow incessantly, so she hurriedly retreated with it.

Jiang Zhiyi sat alone on the bed, resting her chin back on her knees and staring at the embroidery on the quilt.

Lost in thought, the night candle in the room suddenly flickered, and one of the lights went out.

Startled, Jiang Zhiyi turned her head toward the direction of the draft, noticing a window slightly ajar.

These servants…

She wanted to call out but remembered their annoying consolations and closed her mouth. Swinging her legs, she slid off the bed and shuffled over in her slippers.

Before she reached the window, a sudden gust of wind pushed it open wide, and a shadow leaped silently into the room!

Jiang Zhiyi froze in shock, a scream barely escaping her lips when, in the blink of an eye, the intruder was already in front of her, covering her mouth with one hand!

She nearly stumbled backward from the sudden force, staggering a few steps until her back hit the wall. Realizing the window hadn’t been left open but forced open, panic set in.

Hadn’t her uncle said this fortress could withstand a battering ram?!

Jiang Zhiyi looked up in fear and suddenly met a familiar face.

Almost instantly, she instinctively relaxed.

But then realization struck—this person was clad in black night attire. Her eyes widened in terror as she began to struggle fiercely.

Yuan Ce covered her mouth with one hand while gently catching her wrists with the other. With a nudge of his knee, he pinned her legs.

In the blink of an eye, Jiang Zhiyi was completely restrained, only her fluttering lashes conveying her protest—

She was merely grieving alone at home. What did she do to warrant such ruthless extermination from him and his new lover?

Even if past affection meant nothing, did he truly disregard her status as a princess?

The person before her spoke volumes with his eyes. Her hair scattered around her flushed cheeks, damp with sweat, and her heated breath fell into his palm. Yuan Ce’s breathing hitched slightly as he glanced at the proximity between them. Suddenly, Qing Song’s voice echoed in his ear—

The princess and the elder master must have privately pledged their futures. Technically, the princess is your widowed sister-in-law. Isn’t this morally wrong?

Ordinary combat techniques suddenly felt unbearable. A sharp numbness shot through his palm. Yuan Ce curled his fingers, glaring as he slowly withdrew, whispering: “If you don’t scream, I’ll let go.”

Jiang Zhiyi’s heart pounded nervously. She swallowed hard, trying to calm herself, and nodded.

Yuan Ce slowly released one hand.

Jiang Zhiyi took a deep breath, her lips parting—but before she could utter a sound—

The hand that had just released her clamped down again.

Jiang Zhiyi: “… “

Yuan Ce: “… “

Their eyes locked in silence. Even the howling wind through the window seemed to pause momentarily.

My brother must understand—I didn’t mean to offend; it was unavoidable.

Yuan Ce exhaled deeply, clicking his tongue softly: “Fine, then listen to me.”

Jiang Zhiyi shot him an indignant glare.

At this point, what more was there to say between them?

Yuan Ce averted his gaze, staring at the wall as he reluctantly began: “The person I brought back yesterday is my deputy general from the border.”

Jiang Zhiyi froze, her eyes widening in shock—So you’re involved with your deputy general?!

Yuan Ce: “A male deputy general.”

—Not even sparing men!

Yuan Ce’s expression darkened, gritting out from between his teeth: “Just a deputy general, not a lover.”

Jiang Zhiyi’s gaze flickered faintly, then her brows furrowed as she emitted a string of angry sounds through her nose—Are you fooling a three-year-old?!

Yuan Ce closed his eyes, regaining patience. After a moment, he reopened them, glancing at his occupied hands. He guided her wrists toward his waist.

Jiang Zhiyi’s eyes widened in panic, her fingers desperately retracting.

What was he doing?

With a new lover, he still sought physical intimacy with her!

Did he think she was some kind of—

Her fingertips touched the edge of a hard jade tucked into his sash. Jiang Zhiyi’s struggling hand paused, and she looked up in confusion.

Yuan Ce: “Take it.”

Jiang Zhiyi tentatively touched it, blinking uncertainly as she traced the edge of the jade.

“…Stop feeling it.” Yuan Ce tightened his grip on her wrist, anger simmering in his eyes. “Take it out.”

Why so fierce? Whose hands are tied right now?

Jiang Zhiyi glared at him, yanking out the hard lump and looking down. It was indeed the crescent-shaped jade pendant with the character “Yi.”

Though patched together, the jade was riddled with cracks, battered and far from its original flawless luster.

As she stared, Jiang Zhiyi’s eyes dimmed. A tear slipped down her lashes.

“…” Yuan Ce hesitated, loosening his grip slightly.

The person before him clutched the jade pendant tightly, her still-swollen eyes glistening with unshed tears. Stubbornly refusing to let them fall, she looked pitiful.

After all, he had shattered this treasure under the guise of her brother—

Yuan Ce glanced at the pitch-black sky outside the window, opening his mouth to speak but closing it again. Clearing his throat softly, he said: “Well, it’s repaired. Stop crying.”

Jiang Zhiyi raised her tear-filled eyes: “What good is repairing it? You can mend the jade, but can you mend my heart?”

“…”

“Since ancient times, a broken mirror cannot be fully restored. Though patched together, the cracks remain—it’s no longer the same mirror… I know my Brother Ce is long gone…”

Yuan Ce’s brow twitched, his sharp gaze darting downward.

But Jiang Zhiyi seemed oblivious to his shifting expression. Clutching the jade pendant in her hand, she closed her eyes and resolutely turned her head away: “I’ll pretend he died on the battlefield. Whoever has returned now is someone else. Leave! Or your new lover will grow impatient waiting…”

“…”

He shouldn’t have bothered explaining.

“Fine. I’ll take you to meet my ‘new lover.’” Yuan Ce stretched his neck, snatching the nearby curtain and spinning her around.

Jiang Zhiyi stumbled, spinning three full circles as she was wrapped tightly like a cocoon. A cloak was thrown over her head, plunging her into darkness. In a dizzying whirl, she was hoisted onto his shoulder with one arm.

“You—you’re taking me to meet… Are you suggesting I share your affections with her and become your double-flowered concubine!” Jiang Zhiyi could hardly believe what she was hearing. Furious, her vision blurred with stars as she kicked wildly under the cloak. “I, Jiang Zhiyi, would rather be a peony, a rose, or a begonia in this life than become such a double flower—”