CXD - 72

As her words settled, the candlelight in the room flickered. Yuan Ce’s gaze sharpened as he looked down at the person in his arms: “Why do you ask that?”

“It’s just... I feel like...” Jiang Zhiyi clutched the belt at his waist, her lips trembling nervously, “it’s not over yet...”

It wasn’t that she had dreamed of the Zhong family’s curse and thus felt things were unresolved; rather, it was because she sensed things weren’t resolved that such an ominous dream had come to her.

In that half-dreaming, half-awake state, Jiang Zhiyi vaguely thought of something strange: the Zhong family disappeared on the same day Yuan Ce left the capital. While she had guessed the reason behind it, the emperor must have guessed too. So why did the emperor allow Yuan Ce to take justice into his own hands?

Even if the emperor suspected Lord Kang Le of committing the grave crime of treason, Yuan Ce’s actions were still a challenge to imperial authority.

The emperor hadn’t punished him—was it because this matter wasn’t over yet? Was there someone behind Lord Kang Le? Was it more important at the moment not to pursue Yuan Ce but to use his hand to deal with this person?

“…Is Lord Kang Le also acting under someone else’s orders? Is there another person truly responsible for wanting to harm your brother?”

Yuan Ce silently gazed at Jiang Zhiyi without speaking.

“If you can handle the Zhong family easily, what if there’s someone even bigger behind them... Could you be in danger?”

Jiang Zhiyi anxiously urged him with quick words. After a long silence, Yuan Ce asked: “What did you dream about me that scared you so much?”

Remembering the dense rain of arrows piercing through his chest in her dream, waves of fear surged again, numbing her throat. Jiang Zhiyi’s dry lips bumped against each other several times before she could get the words out.

Frowning, Yuan Ce stroked her cool forehead and tried to get up to pour her a cup of hot tea, but she tightly held onto his waist, preventing him from moving.

“I dreamed... I dreamed you were fighting, there were so many arrows...” Jiang Zhiyi took a long breath, piecing together fragments to describe the scene in her dream.

Yuan Ce listened carefully, waiting for her to finish. After a brief pause, he chuckled: “Have you ever seen a real battle? What nonsense dream is this.”

Jiang Zhiyi was also taken aback: “How is it nonsense?”

“Light arrows can at most pierce armor; it takes heavy arrows to penetrate the chest. Such heavy bows and arrows are wielded by only a few archers in an army. Where would you find the arrow rain you described?”

Jiang Zhiyi pouted: “What if there really were?”

“Then it wouldn’t be like your absurd dream. I’d have my warhorse beneath me and weapons in hand. How could arrows shot directly at me hurt me?” Yuan Ce chuckled softly. “Unless I surrendered unarmed and stood still, then perhaps I’d endure the myriad arrows in your dream. Got it?”

“Pfft… Don’t say such unlucky things!” Jiang Zhiyi quickly covered his mouth. “No ‘unless.’ How could the War God of Daye surrender unarmed!”

Yuan Ce took her hand down and held it in his palm: “Then what are you worried about?”

Mumbling “Alright,” Jiang Zhiyi shook her head to dispel those ominous images, gently touched his intact chest, and pressed her face against it.

Because of this nightmare, Jiang Zhiyi slept until late morning the next day. After being attended by her maids and having breakfast, she was still lost in thought about last night’s events when she suddenly smelled a burning scent.

“What’s that smell coming in?” Jiang Zhiyi put down her chopsticks and wrinkled her nose, asking the two maids.

Jiang Zhiyi’s picky nose was always sharper than others’. Jingzhe and Guyu hadn’t smelled anything yet and puzzledly pushed open the casement window to look out.

To their surprise, they saw a burning brazier placed in the courtyard below. San Qi sat cross-legged, ready to work, holding a long string of yellow and white items in one hand and a willow rod tied with white paper tassels in the other.

After a long moment of astonishment, Jingzhe and Guyu finally managed to ask: “W-what is this for?”

San Qi looked up and saw Jiang Zhiyi standing by the window with a confused tilt of her head. He quickly stood up and bowed: “Young Mistress, these were Young General’s instructions before he went to the camp this morning.”

“Instructing you to burn joss paper—” Jiang Zhiyi pointed at the brazier, “in my courtyard?”

“Yes, Young Mistress, rest assured. Won’t all this money shut the Zhong family’s mouths?” As San Qi spoke, he opened the bundle of joss paper, shook it loose, and scattered it into the brazier. With the willow rod, he stirred it and muttered incantations: “Every wrong has its perpetrator. If you want revenge, come find our Young General. Haunting our Young Mistress’s dreams doesn’t make you heroes.”

Jiang Zhiyi: “...”

As San Qi continued burning the joss paper and occasionally looked up, seeing Jiang Zhiyi’s incredulous eyes, he thought to himself how absurd it indeed was. When the Young General proposed this idea this morning, even he had found it quite absurd for a while.

Counting the people the Young General had killed, there might be ten thousand or ninety-nine thousand. Never had ghosts dared enter the Young General’s dreams, nor had he ever shown reverence to spirits. He had never offered sacrifices to the souls of those he had slain, let alone burned joss paper for his enemies.

“Thinking we fed your corpses to jackals, leaving you nowhere to settle accounts, right? Today, we give you plenty of joss paper. If you dare bother our Young Mistress again, beware that our Young General will find those jackals that ate your bones, cut them open to retrieve your remains, and kill you again!”

“…………”

Inside the room, the mistress and the two servants shivered in the warm April breeze, slowly exchanging glances.

So your Young General knows how to observe propriety before resorting to force.

Whether it was the money that silenced the Zhong family or the threat of disembowelment, after this day, Jiang Zhiyi truly didn’t dream of those vengeful ghosts anymore.

However, these ghosts were merely projections of her inner worries in her dreams. While soothing herbal soup could dispel nightmares, it couldn’t ease the heavy burdens on Jiang Zhiyi’s heart.

That night, she had asked Yuan Ce if his revenge was still incomplete. He avoided answering, perhaps unwilling to deceive her further, but his silence was already an answer.

Repeatedly pondering, who could make the emperor overlook the grave crime of treason, unable to easily confront him head-on?

In Daye, there was only one person—the Hedong Circuit Governor, Fan Denian.

Recalling back in the first month, the day she followed Yuan Ce out of the capital, Fan Denian said to Yuan Ce: “It’s a pity I’m heading east while General Shen goes west. From now on, our paths are destined to diverge…”

When she was still carefree, living in the world of romance novels as Yi Yi, had Yuan Ce already been thinking about how to slay Fan Denian?

But avenging oneself upon Fan Denian wouldn’t be as simple as using cunning tactics to bring down the Zhong family. To avenge this grudge meant making enemies of the entire Hexi region against Hedong, and the outcome would surely unfold on the battlefield.

With these thoughts weighing on her mind, in the days that followed, Jiang Zhiyi often delivered lunch to Yuan Ce at the Xuan Ce Camp. After lunch, she stayed to watch him train new recruits, then returned home with him at night.

In late April, Pei Xueqing heard that Jiang Zhiyi was visiting the military camp daily and asked if she could join her for a visit.

The anniversary of Shen Yuan Ce’s death was in May, and Pei Xueqing planned to return to the capital after the memorial. During this time, she had visited many places where Shen Yuan Ce had fought, but she hadn’t yet been to the Xuan Ce Camp because it was a restricted military area, and she was concerned about inconveniencing them.

After receiving Yuan Ce’s approval, Jiang Zhiyi brought Pei Xueqing along to the military camp.

At dusk, Jiang Zhiyi and Pei Xueqing stood on the high platform of the drill ground, watching the new recruits practice offensive and defensive battles.

The soldiers were divided into two factions based on the color of their armbands. They engaged in combat on and around a mock fortress used for simulating battles. The field was filled with rolling dust, chariots charging rapidly amidst it, and the sounds of fighting and bugles shook the earth. Even standing on the high platform, they could feel the ground tremble beneath their feet, as if they were truly on the battlefield.

Having visited for over ten consecutive days, Jiang Zhiyi witnessed an attack-defense battle for the first time and, like Pei Xueqing, was so awestruck that she forgot to brush off the flying sand and stones.

Seeing that the number of defenders was far fewer than the attackers, Jiang Zhiyi curiously asked Yuan Ce beside her: “Isn’t it unfair to have fewer against more?”

Yuan Ce watched the battle unfold, hands behind his back, replying: “The defenders have a geographical advantage. In actual combat, without superior siege weapons, the attacking force often has several times more troops than the defending side.”

“What if the siege weapons are very powerful? What should the defenders do if they’re outnumbered?”

“Maintaining morale is the key to victory.”

Jiang Zhiyi nodded in realization. Watching the attacking soldiers climbing ladders onto the fortress while the defenders swiftly poured yellow water from iron barrels, causing those splashed by it to be judged incapacitated by Mu Xin Hong, she asked: “What is that yellow water in the barrels?”

“Just ordinary water.”

“I know it’s ordinary water,” the armor and weapons worn by the soldiers during training were real, but objects with significant lethality, such as catapults, were replaced with lightweight substitutes. Presumably, the yellow water followed the same principle. “I’m asking what kind of water it would be on the battlefield?”

“Heated molten gold.”

“What is molten gold?”

Yuan Ce glanced at her sideways: “You wouldn’t want to know.”

Jiang Zhiyi pouted: “Why keep it a secret? Tell me!”

“Younger Sister Zhiyi, molten gold should be—” Pei Xueqing, hearing their conversation, leaned over to whisper two words in Jiang Zhiyi’s ear.

Jiang Zhiyi’s expression changed. Looking again at the buckets of yellow water being poured down from the fortress, her stomach churned, and she dry-heaved, covering her mouth with a handkerchief.

Yuan Ce chuckled, patting her back: “I told you you wouldn’t want to know.”

“My inspection today ends here. I’ll go rest in your tent.” Jiang Zhiyi waved goodbye to Yuan Ce, holding her stomach as she walked down from the platform.

Yuan Ce looked at Jiang Zhiyi’s retreating figure and was about to turn and ask Pei Xueqing when Pei Xueqing had already started walking down: “I’ll look after Younger Sister Zhiyi.”

Yuan Ce nodded at Pei Xueqing: “Thank you.”

Inside the tent, Jiang Zhiyi drank two cups of hot tea to suppress the nausea. Sitting on Yuan Ce’s bed, after calming down for a moment, recalling Pei Xueqing’s whispered word “fecal water,” she puzzled: “Why heat the molten gold to repel enemies? Whether hot or cold, it’s pretty disgusting...”

Pei Xueqing sat opposite her and shook her head: “Heated molten gold doesn’t rely on disgust to repel enemies; it’s a weapon with great lethality. It not only burns people but also infects wounds, quickly incapacitating those doused with it.”

“So that’s how it is...”

“I remembered this from something Shen Yuan Ce once said. There are many tactics in warfare, and this one particularly stuck with me because it’s special.”

Jiang Zhiyi nodded. Thinking about it now, she no longer felt disgusted but realized how cruel these life-and-death struggles truly were.

She wondered if her father had ever experienced these things when defending a city.

Seeing Jiang Zhiyi suddenly lost in thought, Pei Xueqing asked: “Why have you recently thought to visit the military camp every day?”

Holding her hot tea, Jiang Zhiyi blinked her lowered long eyelashes: “I just wanted to see what he does every day. Staying within the tall walls of the mansion leaves me ignorant...”

Ignorant of everything, she would grow anxious day by day. Though Hedong and Hexi were two thousand miles apart and there was no immediate reason for war, she still felt uneasy, occasionally remembering that night’s dream.

She feared it would be like before, happily unaware at home until someone came to tell her of her parents’ tragic news.

Pei Xueqing observed her expression: “You seem to have something on your mind. If there’s anything troubling you, feel free to talk to me.”

Jiang Zhiyi looked up at Pei Xueqing. She naturally couldn’t say what Yuan Ce hadn’t told Pei Xueqing.

Outside the tent, the sky grew darker, and candles were lit inside. Jiang Zhiyi set down her tea, hugging her knees and sitting on the bed: “Sister Xueqing, why does everyone have something they must do?”

Pei Xueqing didn’t understand: “Something they must do?”

“For example, my father had to support Uncle Emperor, and my mother had to follow my father. Also—” Jiang Zhiyi thought for a moment, “Shen Yuan Ce mentioned me to you, so he probably told you that once he mocked me, saying the Fourth Prince politely declined marriage to me with Uncle Emperor?”

Pei Xueqing recalled and nodded: “That happened.”

“When I was young, the Fourth Prince and I were indeed close friends. Elders joked that they would arrange our marriage when we grew up. At the time, I didn’t understand love, but since I played well with the Fourth Prince, I thought maybe I would really marry him someday.”

“Later, my family encountered misfortune, and I moved into the Marquis’s mansion. I had much less contact with the princes and princesses. But during my hardest years, whenever the Fourth Prince had a chance to leave the palace, he would still visit me at the Marquis’s mansion and occasionally bring me small handmade trinkets... Somehow, starting from one year, he stopped visiting me frequently.”

Pei Xueqing frowned: “Why was that?”

Jiang Zhiyi smiled faintly and slowly explained: “At first, I didn’t understand. Later, I realized that the originally harmonious Duan王府 no longer existed. The imperial palace was a place of fierce competition and intrigue, devouring people alive. Everyone changed. As a prince born out of wedlock, the Fourth Prince struggled to survive, often bullied and oppressed. His mother’s family had no power and couldn’t stand firm in the deep palace. To secure a future for himself and his mother, he needed to marry a wife who could help him. And I—this childhood playmate whose parents were deceased, with only an honorary title and the emperor’s favor that could be withdrawn anytime—was certainly not a good match for him.”

Pei Xueqing gazed at Jiang Zhiyi, speechless for a long while.

Jiang Zhiyi pursed her lips and smiled again: “But just like my father choosing the state wasn’t wrong, and my mother choosing my father wasn’t wrong, the Fourth Prince striving for a future and choosing between me and his advancement without greedily wanting both was also not wrong. They all have things they must do. Although I hold a place in their hearts, compared to the things they must do, I seem not so important anymore...”

Pei Xueqing shook her head: “Don’t think like that. Choices may be difficult, but there will always be someone who thinks you are the most important thing in the world.”

Jiang Zhiyi looked up at the ceiling of the tent: “Will there be?”

Pei Xueqing watched where her gaze fell, subtly guessing her worries: “Are you afraid of repeating the past with General Shen? Are you still hesitating about your engagement with him?”

Jiang Zhiyi sat motionlessly, silent for a moment, then nodded.

A blood feud—it would be impossible for her to let go either. Without even asking, she knew it was something Yuan Ce must do.

But his opponent was Hedong, whom even the court and the royal family feared. This unavoidable task was akin to walking on the edge of a blade, with life hanging by a thread.

With her arms wrapped around her knees and her chin resting on them, Jiang Zhiyi mused: “I’m just wondering, he previously asked for my hand because marrying me aligned with the direction of the things he must do. But if one day, the things he must do and marrying me diverge completely, or... if he might have to pay with his life for the things he must do, what should I do?”

“Am I... the one left behind again?”