CXD - 3

An incense stick’s time later, Jingzhe managed to escort Jiang Zhiyi into the private room on the third floor of the teahouse with great difficulty.

Once the doors and windows were shut, the clamor from the streets was cut off, and finally, there was peace.

Jiang Zhiyi, leaning on Jingzhe’s wrist, caught her breath. Looking up, she noticed a suspicious water stain on the veil of her hat, recalling the flying saliva as they moved from the carriage to the teahouse. Her head spun, and she swayed.

Jingzhe quickly steadied her, deftly removing her soiled veil and cloak. She then covered the furniture in the room with clean blankets and replaced the tea set with their own before helping Jiang Zhiyi sit by the small table near the window.

Jiang Zhiyi caught her breath and covered her nose with an embroidered handkerchief: “What kind of incense is this? It stinks.”

The teahouse was already packed, and even this private room had been vacated by several noble young masters.

If those people hadn’t recognized Jiang Zhiyi and wanted to show courtesy, they might not have found a place to rest; they had to make do with what they got.

Jingzhe hurriedly extinguished the men’s cologne left by the previous guests: “My lady, should we open the window to air it out?”

Opening the window would distress her ears, but keeping it closed would distress her nose—either way, one sense had to suffer.

Jiang Zhiyi irritably waved her hand.

Jingzhe turned to adjust the window, pondering how to soothe Jiang Zhiyi’s temper.

Truth be told, if today’s grand entrance belonged to someone else, perhaps the princess wouldn’t be so upset. But this person just happened to be Young Master Shen.

This Shen Young Master, relying on his father being the Hexi Circuit Commander, had always acted carelessly and unrestrained in the capital, always looking nonchalant wherever he went.

The princess already disliked such “troublemakers.” Ever since they clashed over a cricket, their relationship had become like oil and water.

Every time they met, one would mock coldly while the other retorted hotly. At the slightest disagreement, one would storm off into her carriage, and the other would mount his horse, neither giving an inch.

On one side was royalty, and on the other, a family wielding significant military power. Spectators didn’t dare mediate, and over time learned one thing—if you wanted a peaceful banquet, remember: if there’s Princess Jiang, no Shen, and if there’s Shen, no Jiang.

They had been competing for a long time until suddenly war broke out in Hexi, bringing news of Commander Shen’s death.

Young Master Shen received the imperial order to rush to the front lines and had been gone for three years.

During these three years, being far apart, they had finally coexisted peacefully.

But this Shen Young Master seemed destined to oppose their princess. Now that he had just returned to the capital, even before setting foot inside the city, he obstructed the princess’s path!

“Hey, do you think Princess Yongying came to welcome Shen Yuance?” The window was barely opened when a young male voice carried over—it was the group of young nobles who had vacated the room earlier, now engaged in lively discussion next door.

Jiang Zhiyi, who had just picked up a teacup, paused her action and looked at Jingzhe with a tilt of her head.

Jingzhe: “What nonsense are these people talking about? I’ll go…”

“How could that be! Didn’t they both want to strangle each other before? Besides, what status does Princess hold compared to him!” A higher male voice immediately rebutted.

Jiang Zhiyi let out the breath she had been holding, signaling Jingzhe to stay calm with a gesture, and slowly brought the teacup to her lips.

“This isn’t the same situation anymore. Look at the scene downstairs. Has Princess ever had such a grand procession?”

Jiang Zhiyi: “...”

“So why does Shen Yuance deserve such a grand reception?”

“Haven’t you heard how he led five thousand troops to counterattack eighty thousand elite soldiers from the north, scaring the old king of Beiting into sending a surrender letter overnight?”

Jiang Zhiyi slightly tilted her ear toward the window.

For the past few years, she had lived without hearing anything outside her circle. People around her were tactful enough never to mention Shen Yuance in her presence. She truly hadn’t cared about what Shen Yuance did in Hexi.

She only knew that Emperor Uncle sent him to Hexi to stabilize morale as the sole son of Commander Shen. In short, he was meant to be a figurehead—not someone expected to inherit his father’s legacy and lead armies.

Later, thinking about it, he probably stayed in Hexi, continuing to act as a spoiled brat among his father’s old subordinates.

But listening to this, it sounded like he had become a great hero saving Hexi from disaster?

Jiang Zhiyi would rather believe pigs could climb trees than trust Shen Yuance.

“Don’t exaggerate! Shen Yuance isn’t some immortal deity. Eighty thousand people? Their spit alone could drown him, much less counterattack!”

Jiang Zhiyi nodded, turning her teacup thoughtfully.

“You’re half right. My father personally saw the battle report. Our five thousand troops were surrounded, with reinforcements miles away. It was Shen Yuance who led the breakout.”

“And what did I get right?”

“You’re right in saying this wasn’t a counterattack. My father said Shen Yuance went to annihilate those eighty thousand elites from the start. He used himself as bait to trap them! They fought day and night. The river flowed with blood.”

“All those people killed in one day and night?”

“It seems he first used some method to cause a flood...”

“Read more books! That’s called damming the river to drown the enemy.”

“But Shen Yuance doesn’t read books either. How did he know about this?”

Jiang Zhiyi put down the teacup and frowned.

How Shen Yuance knew, she didn’t know. Strangely enough—why did she feel like she knew these tactics too?

“Don’t you think—” Jiang Zhiyi looked at Jingzhe, “this sounds familiar?”

Jingzhe nodded and took out the book “Yiyi Zhuan” from her sleeve: “It seems it was written in this storybook...”

Jiang Zhiyi blinked and took the book with uncertain surprise, flipping to the male protagonist’s military achievements, scanning ten lines at a glance—

Using oneself as bait to dam the river and drown enemies.

Riding solo into the enemy camp.

A thousand-mile raid to capture the enemy general’s head.

Entering Beiting alone.

“So,” the young male voice next door resumed, “is it true that Shen Yuance rode solo into the enemy camp, conducted a thousand-mile raid to capture the enemy general’s head, and entered Beiting alone?”

“…………”

Jiang Zhiyi slowly raised her head and exchanged a glance with Jingzhe.

Jingzhe: “Princess, could it be that the storybook has come true again?”

Jiang Zhiyi raised her hand to stop her, expressionlessly closed the book, sat quietly for a moment, took a deep breath, and slowly opened it again.

The white paper remained white, the black characters remained black.

Jiang Zhiyi lowered her eyelashes, staring fixedly at the four large characters “Brother Ce” in the book, unmoving at the table.

It wasn’t that the storybook came true.

It was likely that the battles in Hexi happened first, and the storybook was written afterward. So it wasn’t that events in the storybook came true again, but that the storybook originally used Shen Yuance’s deeds as a “template.”

The male protagonist of this “Yiyi Zhuan” was written about Shen Yuance.

...How could it be about Shen Yuance?

Incredulously, Jiang Zhiyi flipped through the entire volume back and forth, repeatedly reading it from beginning to end, still unable to see—how this “Brother Ce,” full of daring bravery, decisive in killing and conquering, feared by enemies on the battlefield for his madness and eccentricity, bore any resemblance to Shen Yuance, who once jumped up and down over a cricket.

“After three years, the cities lack a dashing young man in fine clothes and proud horses, and the banks of the Weak River now have an unparalleled war god standing tall with sword in hand.”

—So beautifully written, so eloquent, so estranged, so unrecognizable.

This wasn’t using someone as a template for a storybook; this was sending someone to be reborn!

Had she realized earlier that this “Ce” was that “Ce,” would she have given so many glances…?

When Guyu arrived late holding the cat, she found Jiang Zhiyi’s face ashen, clutching a storybook tightly, her knuckles white.

“My lady, don’t dwell on this storybook. You might hurt your hand.” Jingzhe stepped forward to advise.

Guyu also tried to comfort her: “I just walked around downstairs. The Jinwu guards are clearing the way. It won’t be long before the road is clear.”

Jiang Zhiyi didn’t utter a word.

Guyu had no choice but to retreat to the window with the sleeping cat, continuing to look down.

The sound of armor rubbing echoed chaotically. Downstairs, the Jinwu guards holding ceremonial knives had pushed the crowd to the sides of the road.

The commoners lining the streets stood on tiptoe, stretching their necks, gazing toward the city gate direction.

On this bitterly cold winter day, the bustling air seemed to churn with waves of heat.

Amidst the racket, thunderous hoofbeats suddenly echoed. A line of dark color approached rapidly with earth-shattering momentum. The cavalry galloped majestically.

The young men on horseback wore dark armor, held silver spears, and stared straight ahead with disciplined military conduct, each exuding high spirits. Especially the one surrounded in the middle—

The tall youth sat high on a gleaming black horse, his black hair tied with a dark crown, wearing long boots, and carrying a green sword. His military attire shone brilliantly.

Though everyone else appeared solemn and heavy in their black armor, only his touch of red stood out, making him brighter than the fluttering banners.

At just one glance, all the flowers on the street found their direction.

Guyu, on the third floor, could only see heads upon heads but couldn’t discern the riders’ faces. Curious, she leaned halfway out the window, just as the cat in her arms suddenly rolled over in its sleep and tumbled down!

“Aaa—” one scream followed by a “Meow—”. Jiang Zhiyi turned in shock, quickly rose, and leaned out the window to look down.

The plump golden cat fell from a great height, its fur flared in all directions in the wind, seemingly about to smash into a pancake.

Suddenly, a flash of silver light, and the young man on horseback swiftly drew a spear from a nearby soldier, flipped his wrist, and swept the spear in a blur, lifting it upward sharply.

Under the brilliant morning sun, all the golden rays converged on the tip of the spear.

The cat landed on the spear shaft, slid along it belly-down, its four paws desperately clinging to the young man’s hand.

The hooves rose high and fell swiftly, and the rows of cavalry reined in their horses.

The crowd was silent for a moment before erupting in cheers like a tidal wave.

“Excellent spear technique!”

“Heavens, a hero saving a cat—”

“Mother, look! It’s a little celestial cat dropped by a fairy from the sky!”

Everyone looked up along with the young man on horseback.

By the small window on the third floor, the maiden leaned out gracefully, wearing a short apricot-white jacket above and a layered pomegranate-red skirt below, her hair styled in a lily bun adorned with golden hairpins, a plum blossom ornament on her forehead, bright and radiant like rosy clouds reflecting snow. Beneath her delicate eyebrows, a pair of surprised almond eyes gazed steadily at the young man on the horse.

A bewildering breeze blew past, and the maiden’s bright pupils blinked, as if fragmenting the morning sun, casting a soft spring glow.

The spectators gaped in amazement.

In the private room on the third floor, Jiang Zhiyi scrutinized the person she hadn’t seen in three years, hesitantly narrowing her eyes.

The gallant aura of armor on the rider, combined with his tall stature and broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted frame, completely dispelled his previous lazy demeanor.

His features had matured significantly. Compared to his former rosy lips and white teeth, he now had sharper angles and a stern, penetrating gaze.

If not for his unchanged face, this skillful spear technique and imposing demeanor bore no resemblance to the Shen Yuance in her memory…

Jiang Zhiyi’s hesitant gaze slowly scanned downward, settling on the green sword at the rider’s waist, thoughtfully blinking.

Behind her, Guyu, pale-faced, rushed out of the door: “I’ll go retrieve it…”

“Wait—” Jiang Zhiyi closely watched the sword, waving her hand twice behind her.

Guyu leaned close, nodded after a moment, and quickly ran out of the teahouse, approaching the young man to receive the cat: “Thank you, General, for rescuing our young mistress’s beloved pet. Our young mistress invites you upstairs for a cup of tea to express her gratitude.”

“Just a small deed, no need.” Yuance tossed the spear back, lifted the cat clinging to his hand, and gestured to continue moving forward.

“Having fought for three years, you’ve learned to put on airs. Young General Shen, what a proper dignified bearing.”

Like a precious pipa playing a resonant string note, a clear female voice, filled with pride, rang in their ears.

Yuance lifted his eyelids, meeting a pair of arrogant eyes.

Jiang Zhiyi: “To refuse even a cup of tea, does Young General Shen still harbor grudges from three years ago?”

The bustling street instantly fell silent.

Men, women, young, and old from all sides pricked up their ears, holding their breath.

Standing by the window, Jiang Zhiyi lowered her eyes, absentmindedly fiddling with her sleeve: “I thought Young General Shen would have grown wiser after being away for so many years. How can he still live in the past? I’ve long forgotten those trivial matters, but Young General Shen remains so petty?”

Yuance pulled the reins, turning his horse’s head, ready to speak—

“Or could it be…” Jiang Zhiyi raised her chin with a smile, “that you’re afraid I’ll poison the tea?”

Yuance raised an eyebrow: “If you wanted to poison me, you wouldn’t do it in public. There’s nothing wrong with drinking this tea.”

Jiang Zhiyi smiled confidently.

“However, I’ve been wondering since earlier—” Yuance narrowed his eyes, tilting his head as if carefully identifying something, “May I ask, Miss, who are you—?”