CXD - 51

At night, Jingzhe sat alone on the edge of the bed in the upper room of the post station, her mind wandering as she recalled what had happened earlier.

Earlier, the Princess had anxiously pulled her to sit down and asked if she had hit her head when she was injured before. Jingzhe was certain that she hadn’t.

Later, the military doctor came in to take her pulse. The Princess asked him whether it was possible for her to have amnesia even though she hadn’t injured her head.

The doctor said there was one possibility: after injuring her muscles and bones, she had used too much pain-relieving medicine. All medicines are somewhat toxic, and this could leave behind latent health issues.

...Was that true? Could it be that she really became confused from drinking too many medicines and lost some memories? But aside from the matter between the Princess and General Shen, she clearly remembered everything else.

The Princess said that only one personal maid knew about her secret relationship with General Shen. It seemed like the rope always breaks at its weakest point—only she knew the secret, and now she had forgotten it, leaving no one to verify it?

A click sounded as the door opened. Guyu had finished assisting Jiang Zhiyi with her bath and was helping her out of the bathing room.

Jingzhe quickly rose from the stool, feeling deeply ashamed. “Princess, I’ve been sitting here like a guest today and haven’t served you…”

Jiang Zhiyi waved her hand dismissively. “Guyu is here. Don’t bother yourself. Didn’t you hear Dr. Li say that you might have developed a hidden illness? Rest and take care of yourself.”

“Princess, is this Dr. Li truly so skilled in medicine? Could he have misdiagnosed me?”

“Of course not. Earlier this year, when I sprained my ankle, he diagnosed internal blood stasis just by taking my pulse. He also noticed that I had consumed alcohol a few days prior. He’s an extremely reliable physician.”

Is that so? Jingzhe’s mind was in turmoil. Together with Guyu, she helped Jiang Zhiyi onto the bed, covered her with a quilt, and tucked in the edges. She hesitantly asked, “Aside from me, does anyone else know about your past with General Shen?”

Seeing how difficult it was for her to accept the idea of memory loss, Jiang Zhiyi understood. After all, a person can doubt anything, but they hold their own memories as absolute truth.

“It’s not just you; my aunt also knows. You don’t remember, but back then, my aunt went to great lengths to sabotage my relationship with Brother Ace. When Brother Ace and I exchanged letters via carrier pigeons, my aunt had her men shoot the pigeons down. When I sent a servant to deliver a token to Brother Ace, the servant ran off with the money, following my aunt’s orders. And once, when I took a carriage to secretly meet Brother Ace, as soon as I stepped out of the mansion and onto the carriage step, the step collapsed, and I sprained my ankle…”

As Jiang Zhiyi recounted these events, Jingzhe gradually began to feel uneasy. “Princess, I think I vaguely remember something about these incidents…”

“See? Look at you. As soon as I mention them, you start recalling.”

Jingzhe stared wide-eyed, swallowing nervously. “Princess, didn’t Lady also… didn’t she send someone to steal new clothes you had tailored from the shop and put half a dead rat in the gift box that General Shen sent you?”

Jiang Zhiyi’s eyes lit up with surprise. “You remember all of this?”

Jingzhe felt dizzy, staring into Jiang Zhiyi’s confident eyes.

Yes, she remembered. She had never forgotten. These events were all part of the story in the romance novel that the Princess had read four months ago…

“What’s wrong?” Jiang Zhiyi blinked.

“Princess, let me go and think about this…”

“If you can’t remember, it doesn’t matter. Brother Ace and I are together now. Those trivial matters from the past are no longer important. Rest early; we still need to travel tomorrow morning.”

Jingzhe retreated in a daze, walking outside and standing still for a moment before slowly sliding down against the wall, beginning to reflect…

Four months ago, in order to break Lady’s malicious prescription, the Princess repeatedly pored over that romance novel in the warm pavilion. The male protagonist bore similarities to General Shen, while the female protagonist’s background closely resembled the Princess’s own in Yiyi Zhuan (The Tale of Yiyi).

After breaking the prescription, the Princess, reminded by an old wandering Taoist, went to Taiqing Temple to fulfill her vow. On the way, she woke up startled from a dream inside the carriage, calling out “Brother Ace,” dreaming that she had become Yiyi from the novel.

Later, during the bandit ambush, amidst the fighting, the carriage broke apart and sank. The Princess’s head collided with the carriage wall…

Jingzhe trembled, covering her mouth with both hands.

...It wasn’t her who had amnesia—it was the Princess!

The Princess had conflated the story of the protagonists in the novel with her own experiences and those of General Shen…

Suddenly, Jingzhe got up and walked toward the inner chamber, only to bump into Guyu coming out. Guyu gestured for silence.

Guyu whispered, “Sister Jingzhe, the Princess has been exhausted from traveling recently and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.”

Jingzhe gazed at Jiang Zhiyi’s sleeping face from afar, her heart racing with thoughts of this absurd situation, her brows furrowed in distress.

Early the next morning, faint sobbing could be heard from the inner chamber.

Having spent the entire night awake, Jingzhe rushed in upon hearing the noise. Approaching the bed, she saw Jiang Zhiyi with her eyes tightly shut, tears streaming down her face as if crying in her sleep.

Jingzhe quickly bent down and gently patted Jiang Zhiyi’s shoulder. “Princess, Princess?”

Jiang Zhiyi slowly opened her tear-filled eyes, seeing Jingzhe through blurred vision. She called out to her, crying, “Jingzhe—”

“I’m here, Princess. Did you have a nightmare?”

Jiang Zhiyi paused her tears, sniffled, and hesitantly looked around. “…Was it all just a dream?”

“Yes, Princess, don’t be afraid. There are no bad people…” Jingzhe wiped her face with a handkerchief.

“It wasn’t a bad person I dreamed of…” Jiang Zhiyi’s long lashes brimmed with tears, as if she hadn’t fully recovered from the sorrowful dream. “I dreamed… I dreamed everything you said was true. That Brother Ace and I never had any secret affair. Not only does he dislike me, but he also scared me with crickets… This is already the second time I’ve had this dream…”

Jingzhe paused mid-wipe, her gaze flickering as she withdrew the handkerchief. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she took a deep breath. “Princess, have you ever considered that the reason you’re having this dream is because it reflects reality? Perhaps you and General Shen…”

“What’s wrong?” A male voice suddenly cut in. Yuan Ce crossed the threshold and entered.

Jingzhe stiffened, cutting off her words.

Hearing the voice, Jiang Zhiyi turned her head and immediately sat up on the bed, opening her arms toward Yuan Ce. “Brother Ace!”

Yuan Ce stepped forward, pushing aside the maid at the bedside, and pulled Jiang Zhiyi into his arms. His piercing gaze swept upward, locking onto Jingzhe, who was forced to rise and retreat.

With just a glance, it felt as if a sharp sword were pointed straight at her heart. Jingzhe froze, her hair standing on end, chilled to the bone.

But in the next moment, his gaze shifted away, softening as it landed on the figure on the bed. “Another nightmare?”

Jiang Zhiyi clung to Yuan Ce’s waist, nodding silently.

“I told you, dreams are always the opposite of reality.”

“…Then why did I have this dream again?”

“The last time Lord Hou opposed our engagement, you were afraid it wouldn’t happen and started overthinking things. This time—” Yuan Ce glanced at Jingzhe— “your maid filled your ears with nonsense. Your daytime worries manifest in your dreams. What’s strange about that?”

Jiang Zhiyi mumbled through a congested nose, “So it’s just a dream, not real, right?”

“Of course.”

Jingzhe stared at Yuan Ce, her hands clenched tightly into fists under her sleeves.

This Shen Yuan Ce knew everything, absolutely everything. Yet he deceived the Princess—not only tricking her into this marriage but also luring her thousands of miles away to the borderlands…

Yuan Ce looked down at the woman in his arms and asked, “Are you very upset about having this dream?”

Jiang Zhiyi wiped away her tears. “What do you think?”

“And… do you like me now? Do you enjoy being with me now?”

“Of course I do… otherwise, why would I have come all the way to Hexi with you?”

Yuan Ce’s eyes flickered toward Jingzhe as he continued speaking to Jiang Zhiyi. “Then let’s stay happy together and not dwell on things that make you sad.”

Jingzhe’s gaze faltered.

“You can leave now,” Yuan Ce said, tilting his chin toward Jingzhe.

Jiang Zhiyi raised her eyes and looked at the hesitant Jingzhe. “It’s fine. I’ll just talk with Brother Ace. You don’t need to worry.”

After standing frozen for a moment, Jingzhe gritted her teeth, bowed slightly, and retreated.

Now alone in the room, there was a brief silence before Yuan Ce suddenly spoke without preamble. “Jiang Zhiyi, tell me—your father chose your uncle over you, and your mother chose your father over you. In truth, I’ve never been chosen either.”

Jiang Zhiyi looked up, puzzled. “Hmm?”

Yuan Ce lowered his head, meeting her eyes. “If you choose me once, I will treat you well.”

“Haven’t I already chosen you?”

“I’m talking about the future.”

“Did I have a nightmare, or did you? Why should I comfort you instead of the other way around?” Jiang Zhiyi frowned. “Don’t worry. Rest assured, I’ll choose you in the future too—forever.”

“All right.”

Yuan Ce held her for a while longer, then called Guyu to help Jiang Zhiyi dress and freshen up. He got up and walked out.

Just as he stepped out of the door, a flash of steel gleamed—a dagger unsheathed and aimed straight at his face.

Yuan Ce leaned back and spun gracefully to dodge the blade, simultaneously kicking the door shut behind him.

Jingzhe clenched her jaw tightly, lunging forward again with the dagger. Yuan Ce kept his hands clasped behind his back, sidestepping once more.

Jingzhe attacked relentlessly, but Yuan Ce retreated step by step, dodging effortlessly, his hands still behind him, not raising a single finger.

Even so, she couldn’t land a blow.

After an unknown number of strikes, Jingzhe panted, exhausted, and pointed the tip of the dagger at him, glaring fiercely. “What are your true intentions toward the Princess?”

Yuan Ce glanced at the dagger’s tip near his jawline, then raised an eyebrow. “A mere maid like you survived the journey from Chang’an to Hexi and still has the audacity to point a dagger at me now—what do you think my intentions are?”

Jingzhe’s hand holding the dagger trembled slightly.

Yuan Ce raised two fingers, pinching the blade and pushing it aside. “I thought I made myself clear earlier. She wants a beautiful dream; I’ll accompany her in this dream. If everyone is happy, why must we wake her up?”

Jingzhe blinked slowly, her eyes unfocused, hesitating to act further.

Suddenly, a creak echoed as a distant door opened.

Quickly, Jingzhe concealed the dagger behind her back, turned around, and looked toward Jiang Zhiyi stepping out of the room.

Jiang Zhiyi waved cheerfully at the two of them. “I’m ready! Let’s set off!”

Jingzhe stood silently in place, watching as Yuan Ce approached, took Jiang Zhiyi’s hand, and led her out of the post station. Her expression gradually dimmed, uncertainty flickering in her eyes.

They had only two days left of travel and one more post station to stop at, but perhaps due to Jingzhe’s arrival disrupting the journey, the carriage drove nonstop through day and night, heading directly to Güzang City.

It was Jiang Zhiyi’s first time sleeping in the carriage. Despite the presence of her two familiar maids, she tossed and turned, waking with every bump. It wasn’t until dawn approached that she finally succumbed to exhaustion, falling into a deep sleep.

When they entered the city, it was during the bustling morning market hours. The lively streets outside the carriage didn’t rouse her.

As Jiang Zhiyi drifted awake, feeling herself nestled in soft bedding, she opened her eyes to see a familiar Huanghuali canopy bed. Golden gauze curtains swayed gently, and above her was an intricately carved ceiling.

“Ah?” Jiang Zhiyi blinked in surprise, turning her head to look at Yuan Ce sitting beside the bed. “What dream am I having now? How did I suddenly return to Chang’an?”

“This isn’t Chang’an. It’s Güzang.” Yuan Ce nodded toward the surroundings.

Jiang Zhiyi looked beyond the bed and realized that while the furnishings resembled her bedroom in Yaoguang Pavilion, the roof structure and overall layout were different, as was the view outside the window.

Yuan Ce said, “It’s only been two months since you agreed to come here. We’ve only had time to renovate this much. If there’s anything else you want, we can add it later.”

Jiang Zhiyi sat up and surveyed the room. She noticed a water wheel installed that added humidity to prevent dry air from irritating her skin—a detail she had almost forgotten mentioning to him.

On a nearby table lay a row of lacquered trays displaying exotic Western Region clothing and jewelry. To her discerning eye, accustomed to rare treasures, these items were clearly exquisite works of art.

The dressing table was also adorned with many delicate bottles and jars. Some contained her usual cosmetics and fragrances, while others were unfamiliar, possibly local specialties of Güzang.

During the busy days of their engagement earlier in the year, he had often lingered in her Yaoguang Pavilion bedroom—preparing all of this.

Jiang Zhiyi’s eyes widened in astonishment. “This is more than enough… You’ve already given a generous dowry. I’m afraid if you keep spending like this, we’ll run out of money soon.”

“...” Fortunately, he’d managed to sell some family assets left behind by his father and brother to scrape by.

Jiang Zhiyi suddenly remembered something. “Wait a minute—is this the Shen residence in Güzang? Am I already inside the city?”

Yuan Ce nodded.

“But you promised to take me sightseeing in Güzang! Did I sleep through the entire journey here?”

“What’s worrying you? We’re already here, and there’s plenty of time ahead.” Yuan Ce pulled the quilt over her and encouraged her to lie back down. “You didn’t sleep last night. Rest now. I have many things to attend to anyway. I’ll take you out tonight.”

Satisfied, Jiang Zhiyi nodded. Sleepiness quickly returned, and under the maids’ care, she soon drifted off.

Jingzhe sat on the edge of the bed, gazing at the lavish golden chamber and Jiang Zhiyi’s content, smiling face in slumber. She sighed deeply, conflicted.

As dusk fell, the streets of Güzang came alive with flowing crowds. The night market lanterns illuminated the avenues so brightly they rivaled daylight.

Lively music filled the air, mingling with the sounds of merchants and performers. Men, women, and children dressed in Western Region attire bustled about. Street stalls overflowed with goods and delicacies, magicians performed tricks, and acrobats entertained. Every stall drew curious onlookers, offering endless novelties.

From ornate pavilions with upturned eaves, bare-midriff dancers twirled to the beat of Hu Xuan music. Young men and women leaned against railings, sipping wine from silver flasks and singing songs.

“Sister Jingzhe, I never imagined Güzang could be so lively and prosperous. This night market rivals even Chang’an!” Guyu exclaimed in awe as she strolled through the streets. Turning her head, she noticed Jingzhe’s troubled expression. “Sister Jingzhe, are you tired?”

Jingzhe shook her head, her gaze fixed ahead.

Not far away, Jiang Zhiyi wore a red embroidered gown, her jet-black hair braided, adorned with emerald forehead ornaments, lapis lazuli necklaces, and tasseled pearl pendants. The vibrant colors made her appear radiant, like a celestial butterfly descended to earth.

Beside her, Yuan Ce stood out in his rare pale attire—a white robe with gold embroidery, paired with a jade-studded belt. His tall figure, half-draped with loose black hair, complemented Jiang Zhiyi perfectly, making them resemble a divine couple from legend.

Having followed the Princess since childhood, Jingzhe knew her best. Over the past few days, she observed that Jiang Zhiyi seemed to revert to her carefree childhood self when around Shen Yuan Ce—laughing, crying, or getting angry freely, yet always soft-hearted, even when prickly.

In recent years, Jingzhe had grown accustomed to seeing the Princess uphold her dignity and maintain emotional distance from others. She hadn’t seen such uninhibited expressions of joy, anger, sorrow, or trust in a long time.

Should this beautiful dream truly remain unbroken?

“I want to see every stall! How can we possibly finish exploring? This ‘city that never sleeps’ truly deserves its name!” Jiang Zhiyi clung to Yuan Ce’s arm, raising her voice to be heard over the noise. “Have you ever been here before? Do you know which places are most interesting?”

Yuan Ce shook his head. “This is my first time walking openly here.”

“The first time?” Jiang Zhiyi was momentarily surprised. “Oh, you’ve been fighting wars for the past three years—you probably didn’t have the chance…”

Truthfully, he had never had the opportunity in the past nineteen years.

Internally answering her question, Yuan Ce remained attentive to their surroundings, occasionally pulling her closer amid the bustling crowd.

Jiang Zhiyi eagerly joined the festivities, stopping intermittently to explore. At one stall selling grass-woven ornaments, she paused with great interest, watching the vendor skillfully weave a rabbit. “Can grass really be woven so vividly? I want this!”

The elderly vendor’s fingers flew nimbly as she smiled and muttered something in the local dialect that Jiang Zhiyi couldn’t understand.

Yuan Ce explained, “She says it will be ready soon. Just wait a moment.”

Jiang Zhiyi nodded and crouched down to examine other grass-woven items on display. Nearby, two children around six or seven played on the ground, likely the vendor’s grandchildren.

Their heads close together, each holding a thin blade of grass, they poked at something on the ground, seemingly engaged in a fierce competition.

Unable to see clearly in the shadows, Jiang Zhiyi turned to Yuan Ce, who had squatted beside her. “What are they playing?”

“They’re having a grass-weaving duel…”

Halfway through his explanation, Yuan Ce’s expression changed abruptly. He reached out to pull Jiang Zhiyi—but it was too late.

A lifelike grass cricket leaped onto Jiang Zhiyi’s skirt, propelled by a blade of grass.

Jiang Zhiyi stared blankly at the grotesque creature—dark brown, stout-bodied, with menacing patterns and long antennae—too stunned to scream.

An instant later, Yuan Ce yanked her upright.

Though upright now, the image of the cricket lingered in Jiang Zhiyi’s mind.

Memories akin to this scene, nauseating and suffocating, crashed into her consciousness like a collapsing building. Her stomach churned violently, bile rising to her throat. Overcome by dizziness and nausea, she collapsed unconscious.