CXD - 85

Jiang Zhiyi glanced at Qi Yan across from her in surprise, then turned to meet Yuan Ce’s complex gaze. Her mouth opened slightly, but she found herself unable to explain.

She truly hadn’t interacted much with the fourth prince over the years, especially after he had politely declined the marriage proposal between them. In recent years, they had only met a handful of times at palace banquets—times when they were far apart and avoided even making eye contact. Even when they crossed paths, it was like today: she would say, “Greetings, Fourth Prince,” and he would reply, “No need for formalities.”

…How could she have known that the fourth prince still remembered her dietary aversion?

Seeing Jiang Zhiyi’s shifting expression, Yuan Ce suddenly recalled some small details. Last winter, when Jiang Zhiyi had gotten drunk at the princess’s residence, she had recounted stories from her childhood—

“I sat alone in the dining hall, watching the maids reheat the dishes over and over again. I didn’t know what time it was, but eventually, I got a little hungry and picked up a dumpling to eat. Just then, one of the house matrons rushed over to tell me that my mother had poisoned herself…”

Yuan Ce’s eyes flickered as he looked at the plate of dumplings before her. He was about to reach out and move it away when—

Jiang Zhiyi quickly shook her head: “…No, it’s fine. I don’t avoid eating dumplings.”

Yuan Ce: “If you don’t want to eat, there’s no need to force yourself—”

Qi Yan: “If you don’t want to eat, there’s no need to force yourself—”

The two voices overlapped and stopped simultaneously. Jiang Zhiyi suddenly lowered her head and saw both Yuan Ce and Qi Yan reaching for the plate of dumplings in front of her. Each grasped one side of the plate, lifting it into the air.

The two hands, holding the plate of dumplings, froze mid-air. Yuan Ce and Qi Yan exchanged glances.

Though the thunderstorm outside had long since ceased, a sudden rumble seemed to echo overhead.

Jiang Zhiyi stared stiffly at the two men, realizing that this must have been how Yuan Ce felt when she and Pei Xueqing confronted him once before…

As the steam from the dumplings seemed to freeze in place, Jiang Zhiyi slowly extended her hand and tentatively grasped the other side of the plate: “No, really, I’m not being forced. I actually want to try eating them…”

Both men turned their heads to look at her.

Jiang Zhiyi addressed Qi Yan: “Thank you for your concern, Your Highness, but people change. I’m different now than I was before.”

Qi Yan’s gaze faltered slightly. Slowly, he released the plate and lowered his hand.

Yuan Ce stared straight at Jiang Zhiyi, recalling the letter she had left behind in Xingyang.

Jiang Zhiyi then turned to Yuan Ce and softly said: “You should let go too.”

“Let go? Can you even carry it?” Yuan Ce took the large plate of dumplings back.

Jiang Zhiyi looked at the dumplings now in front of her. After staring at them for a while, she picked up her chopsticks, gently lifted one, and brought it close to examine it.

Those old memories had faded with the fires of war. It seemed she truly wasn’t afraid of eating dumplings anymore.

Jiang Zhiyi placed the dumpling in her mouth and took a bite. Finding the taste acceptable, she even felt a faint nostalgia for something she hadn’t eaten in years. She chewed and swallowed it, then picked up another one.

Yuan Ce watched her for a moment, reassured, and returned to eating his own plate of dumplings, devouring half of them in quick succession. Suddenly, he felt a tug on his sleeve.

“Hmm?” Yuan Ce turned his head.

“This is really forcing it now,” Jiang Zhiyi pointed to the remaining dumplings on her plate. Unlike them, who were famished after battle, she wasn’t particularly hungry. “The dumplings in your camp are so big, and the filling is so dense…”

“Then force me instead?” Yuan Ce spoke reluctantly, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“…It’d be a shame to waste them, and we can’t force our guest.”

Yuan Ce glanced at the guest opposite him, chuckled, and took Jiang Zhiyi’s plate. Using his chopsticks, he swept the remaining dumplings into his own plate.

Qi Yan glanced at Yuan Ce’s plate, lowered his eyelashes, and continued eating his own dumplings.

After finishing their late-night meal, Jiang Zhiyi told Yuan Ce to focus on discussing military matters and returned to her own tent.

Jingzhe had already prepared her bedding and sprinkled insect-repellent incense in every corner. Earlier, Jingzhe had been busy preparing the tent and hadn’t attended to her meal, which was why the matter with the dumplings had arisen.

After washing up in the tent, Jiang Zhiyi instructed Jingzhe to keep an eye out. Once the fourth prince left, she planned to go explain things to Yuan Ce.

Jingzhe waited outside for a long time until she finally saw the fourth prince exit the main tent. However, when she lifted the tent flap, she discovered Jiang Zhiyi lying sideways on the bed, fast asleep.

It was already deep into the night, and there wasn’t much time left to rest. Jingzhe hesitated for a moment, deciding not to wake Jiang Zhiyi. Instead, she gently covered her with a quilt.

Meanwhile, Yuan Ce noticed that half the candlelight in Jiang Zhiyi’s tent had gone out, signaling that she had already gone to sleep. After taking a quick shower, he lay down on his bed and closed his eyes.

The surroundings grew quiet, leaving only the sounds of insects chirping in the summer night. Suddenly, the words Qi Yan had left earlier echoed in his ears—

“I’ve known the Duchess since childhood and only wish for her to find a good match and live a peaceful, content life. Earlier, I thought the marriage she chose forced her to eat foods she disliked, so I spoke out of turn. Since it was a misunderstanding, Young General Shen, please don’t take it to heart.”

“One successful general, ten thousand bones dry. Beneath the clash of arms, there are no true victors. Tonight, the envoy congratulated Young General Shen, but forgive me for not agreeing. Fratricidal conflict stems from the greed of generals and the failures of those in power, yet it is the soldiers who bleed and sacrifice. Young General Shen’s recent recapture of the inner passes saw no casualties among his troops after the battle of Xingyang—a testament to his unparalleled tactical brilliance. I believe Young General Shen shares my sentiments. From this day forward, may the soldiers of Da Ye unite their strength against external threats. May tonight mark the last time the imperial army and the Xuan Ce Army meet under such circumstances in our lifetimes.”

……

His eyelids grew heavy, and distant, hazy scenes began flashing before his eyes—

Scene One: A Rainy Night

He lay collapsed on the muddy ground, battered and broken, staring at two pairs of military boots in front of him.

“General, I cannot continue sparring with the young master. He can’t take much more…”

“He is no mere ‘young master.’ He is a warrior. When a warrior falls, the only thing awaiting him is the descending blade. Yuan Ce, get up!”

Enduring the excruciating pain that felt like every bone in his body was shattering, he wiped the blood from his lips and slowly pushed himself off the ground.

Once he stood, swaying unsteadily, the drillmaster resumed his attack.

He raised his hands to block—once, twice—and soon fell back into the mud with a cry of pain.

His father’s voice boomed above him once more:

“Do not cry out in pain. Do not weep. Get up!”

Scene Two: A Bustling Market on a Sunny Day

Wearing a mask, he followed his father through the lively market, curiously looking around. He stopped at a stall filled with exquisite jade accessories.

The vendor smiled and asked, “Young master, would you like to buy a jade thumb ring? Wearing it will prevent your hand from hurting when you shoot arrows.”

He ran his fingers over the scars, old and new, on his hands, gazing enviously at the various jade rings. He looked up at his father.

But his father waved dismissively at the vendor: “He doesn’t need it. How can one shoot arrows well if they fear pain?”

He couldn’t call him “Father” in public, so he addressed him as “General”: “General, if I buy one, can I wear it when I’m not shooting arrows?”

The vendor chimed in: “Oh, General, you’re a fearless man, but this young master is still so young!”

Finally relenting, his father paid the money and said sternly: “If I see you wearing it while shooting arrows, I’ll throw it away. Understood?”

He nodded firmly, and afterward, he only wore the jade thumb ring when he wasn’t practicing archery.

The drillmaster asked him: “Why wear a jade thumb ring if you’re not shooting arrows?”

He replied cheerfully: “Because Father bought it for me. Even Father worries about my pain.”

Scene Three: A Bloody Bedchamber

Basins of clear water were brought in, only to be carried out again, now red with blood.

The physician stared in shock at the deep wound on his back, exposing the bone: “General, how could the young master sustain such an injury?”

“He failed to dodge a sword strike from behind. Naturally, he got hurt.”

“General, the young master is still so young. Please don’t push him too hard…”

Sighing, the physician retreated. His father sat beside the bed and asked: “Did that sword hurt?”

Afraid to admit the pain, he clenched his lips and shook his head.

“If it hurts, remember this—”

“Your birth mother sacrificed her life to ensure your safety, fearing discovery of your twin birth. She fell ill after childbirth but dared not seek medical help… If not for that person in the depths of Chang’an Palace, your mother wouldn’t have died so young, and you could have lived comfortably as the young master of the Shen family, free from this suffering, instead of living in the shadows, unseen by the light of day.”

“When the day comes that you can avenge your mother and yourself, destroy that palace. Destroy everyone who sits high and mighty within it.”

After speaking, his father left the room. Outside, the physician’s voice echoed: “General, why do this to yourself? The young master may come to resent you!”

“It’s better if he hates me. The more he hates me, the clearer he’ll know where his blade should point.”

“But the late emperor has passed, and the new emperor ascended the throne. There’s no longer any way to avenge Lady Shen…”

“Everyone in that palace deserves to die.”

……

The surging tide of memories gradually subsided. The final scene was a silent, deep night.

He lay quietly asleep on the bed when he suddenly sensed warmth approaching.

Even before his mind fully awoke, he knew the enemy had come. This was his father’s training—to be like a wild beast, alert and ready to fight even in sleep.

If he didn’t wake in time, the blade would truly fall.

Before his consciousness fully returned, his body reacted instinctively. Yuan Ce flipped over, surged up, and pinned the intruder beneath him, choking their slender neck.

A startled cry rang out. In the dim candlelight, he saw a pure, snow-white face.

All the filth, slaughter, and pain in his dream vanished in an instant. Yuan Ce’s brow twitched as he snapped out of it, abruptly releasing his grip.

Jiang Zhiyi looked up at the figure kneeling beside her, clutching her throat as she coughed violently, tears streaming down her face.

She had woken in the middle of the night, learned from Jingzhe that the fourth prince had already left, and come to find Yuan Ce since she had slept through his departure.

She never expected that the soldier at the tent entrance wouldn’t stop her, and Yuan Ce would mistake her for an assassin.

Yuan Ce’s fingers trembled as he pulled her hand away from her neck, fear lingering in his voice: “Are you hurt?”

Jiang Zhiyi shook her head, still coughing.

Yuan Ce stared blankly at the startling red marks on her pale neck: “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

“…It’s my fault. You just finished fighting and haven’t fully recovered your senses. You’ve always said not to approach you carelessly while you’re sleeping.” Jiang Zhiyi caught her breath, sitting up on her knees. Seeing Yuan Ce lost in thought, sweat dampening his temples, she reached out with her sleeve to wipe his sweat. “What’s wrong? I’m fine now. Did you have a nightmare?”

“Did you dream I ran off with someone because of a plate of dumplings?”

“I knew you were petty. I came in the dead of night to explain—I really have nothing but a clean slate with the fourth prince…”

Before she could finish her rambling explanation, he suddenly pulled her into his arms.

Yuan Ce knelt on the bed, holding her tightly, lowering his head to bury his chin in the crook of her shoulder: “Jiang Zhiyi, you’d feel my pain, wouldn’t you?”

Jiang Zhiyi froze, then slowly raised her arms to embrace him, gently stroking the back of his head: “Of course I would. Why are you asking such a silly question?”

“Then it doesn’t matter anymore…” Yuan Ce closed his eyes. “None of it matters anymore.”