CXD - 90

The room, once filled with joy, froze in an instant. Jiang Zhiyi’s hand, gripping the latch of the box, went rigid. For a long while, she was too stunned to process what she had heard, and she repeated Baojia’s words in a daze: “Western Luo has requested a marriage alliance with Da Ye—the person they seek to marry… is me?”

The Marquis of Yong’en had just stepped over the threshold, intending to see his niece’s wedding gown, when he was struck by this thunderous news. He clutched the doorframe for support: “What?!”

Jiang Zhiyi’s ears buzzed as she stared blankly at her uncle.

After a long silence, the marquis muttered: “…How is this possible? Could they have mistaken someone else for you?”

Baojia glanced at Jiang Zhiyi, then back at the marquis: “The message came from the fourth prince—it’s not a mistake.”

The marquis pressed a hand to his chest, trying to steady his breathing. His trembling finger pointed accusingly: “Our Yiyi is already betrothed! Are they proposing a marriage or planning an abduction?! Haven’t the Western Luo been harassing the borders of Hexi recently? How dare they act so brazenly—plundering our people while demanding a bride?”

Indeed, as Jiang Zhiyi knew, during Da Ye’s recent internal strife, Western Luo had seized the opportunity to invade and harass the Hexi border. Mu Xinhong had even sent word to Yuan Ce about it. This was precisely why Yuan Ce, after quelling the rebellion, had to return to Hexi as soon as possible to take command.

The marquis exclaimed: “Could it be that they’re retaliating against my nephew-in-law’s troops by targeting my niece?”

“Lord Hou, calm yourself. Sit down and let’s discuss this slowly,” Baojia signaled to Jiang Zhiyi with a glance, indicating that the onlookers should leave.

Jiang Zhiyi cleared the room, invited her uncle and Baojia to sit, and had Jingzhe bring tea. Struggling to compose herself, she asked: “Did the fourth prince convey any other messages?”

Baojia nodded: “According to the fourth prince, this isn’t simply about retaliation. The old king of Western Luo is advanced in age and has gradually handed over state affairs to his two sons. The eldest prince favors peaceful relations with Da Ye, while the second prince is a war hawk. Since the death of the Western Luo queen, the second prince has been urging the old king to wage war against us.”

“During our recent internal turmoil, the second prince took advantage of the chaos and ordered raids on the Hexi border. After several failed attempts, they discovered that the Xuan Ce Army stationed there made them powerless to advance. Additionally, the old king, being elderly, lacks the will to fight, and the eldest prince advocates peace, making it difficult for the second prince to act unilaterally.”

“So the second prince devised a plan. Pretending to agree with the pro-peace faction, he suggested that the old king propose another marriage alliance with Da Ye, specifically naming you, Zhiyi. The Western Luo people don’t follow the traditional marriage customs of betrothal and formal ceremonies—they are unrestrained by social norms. Perhaps the old king, hearing of your beauty, agreed to send a request for your hand… While the old king may be greedy and foolish, the second prince is anything but. By naming you—a woman already betrothed to Shen Yuan Ce—he intends…”

Jiang Zhiyi’s heart sank like a stone: “…To drive a wedge between Hexi and the imperial court…”

Or more accurately, to drive a wedge between Yuan Ce and the emperor.

So there was no coincidence here. The person Western Luo sought to marry was always destined to be her.

Baojia frowned and nodded: “The fourth prince believes that the second prince doesn’t truly care whether the marriage succeeds. What matters is how Da Ye responds to their proposal. If my father agrees to the marriage alliance, how will Shen Yuan Ce view him? But if Shen Yuan Ce refuses to relinquish the engagement, how will my father view him ? Either way, this thorn will pierce deep into the hearts of both the emperor and Shen Yuan Ce. Even if the attempt to sow discord fails and my father and Shen Yuan Ce unite to declare war on Western Luo, it still serves the second prince’s purpose. No matter the outcome, the proposer—the second prince—wins!”

…Such clever schemes, such meticulous calculations.

Jiang Zhiyi’s clenched hands began to tremble faintly.

“They plot and scheme, but aren’t they just throwing our Yiyi into the fire? What did she ever do to deserve this?!” The marquis slammed the table, his face flushed red. After calming his breath for a moment, he turned to ask: “Princess, what is the current talk in the palace? Since the fourth prince has already seen through the Western Luo’s ploy, surely he will advise the emperor not to fall for it, right?”

“I heard the news arrived yesterday. Today, my father summoned key ministers to deliberate. Upon learning this, the fourth prince immediately sent me to inform Zhiyi. In the next couple of days, my father may summon Zhiyi to the palace at any time.”

After delivering the message, Baojia urged Jiang Zhiyi not to jump to the worst conclusion. She promised to find a way to enter the palace and gather more information before hastily departing from the marquis’s estate.

Inside the room, Jiang Zhiyi and the marquis sat silently, facing each other without speaking for a long while.

When their eyes finally met, they both saw the same unspoken realization reflected in each other’s gaze.

The marquis spoke first: “So Master Zhang’s words were true…”

Jiang Zhiyi hesitated: “Uncle, what exactly did Master Zhang say back then?”

“When Master Zhang spoke to me about your fate of becoming a peace bride, what were his exact words?” Jiang Zhiyi asked.

“He said something about…” The marquis furrowed his brow, rubbing his temples as he tried to recall. “Something about past lives and karmic cycles—how cause leads to effect. He mentioned that you have a certain opportunity in this life, and if you seize it, you won’t need to become a peace bride…”

“Past lives? This life?” Jiang Zhiyi murmured these cryptic terms, her voice tinged with hesitation. “Opportunity… opportunity…”

Could this “opportunity” refer to the storybook? Or perhaps the accident that injured her head? But hadn’t she already seized the opportunity? Why hadn’t her fate changed?

If Master Zhang’s prophecy about her becoming a peace bride wasn’t fabricated, did he also have a solution to break the curse?

Regardless, whether the marriage proposal was real or not, she had planned to visit Taiqing Temple today to uncover the truth behind the storybook.

Jiang Zhiyi subtly motioned to Jingzhe, signaling her to retrieve the storybook from the bookshelf. Rising to her feet, she said: “Uncle, I’m going to Taiqing Temple.”

At dusk, Jiang Zhiyi stepped into the temple once again.

Jingzhe requested an audience with Master Zhang, and a disciple quickly led them to a quiet chamber.

Inside the chamber, a thirty-something Daoist master sat upright in flowing robes, his spine straight and legs crossed in meditation. His eyes were closed as he sat behind a long table, upon which rested a flat, square box.

“Greetings, honored guest,” Master Zhang said softly, opening his eyes slightly and gesturing for her to approach.

Jiang Zhiyi walked forward, knelt on a prayer mat, and seated herself opposite him. Her gaze swept around the room.

“There is no one else here but myself, honored guest. You may speak freely,” Master Zhang assured her.

Jiang Zhiyi retrieved the storybook, Yi Yi Zhuan , from Jingzhe and placed it gently on the table, pushing it toward him: “I have searched for you for months. Let me get straight to the point. Please enlighten me—did you write this storybook? What is your purpose, and how could you foresee that this storybook would alter my fate?”

Master Zhang glanced down at the book and shook his head: “This storybook was not written by me, nor do I possess the ability to foresee fate.”

Jiang Zhiyi furrowed her brows.

“The person who foresees fate is my esteemed master, the Jianwei Celestial Master. This storybook was written by him.”

Jiang Zhiyi’s eyelashes trembled slightly.

This same Jianwei Celestial Master had once prophesied that twins would bring calamity to the nation—a prophecy that had haunted Yuan Ce his entire life. Why was he meddling again now…?

“So... the wandering Daoist who disguised himself and urged me to come here to fulfill a vow—was actually the Jianwei Celestial Master?”

“Exactly,” Zhang Daosheng nodded. “I do not know why my master wrote this storybook, nor am I aware of its details. I merely carried out three tasks entrusted to me by my master.”

“What tasks?”

“First, if you were to ask how to break a curse cast by yin techniques, I was to answer with yang countermeasures. Second, if someone from your household came to inquire about your marital fate, I was to reveal the prophecy of your peace marriage. Third, if one day you came to ask about the origin of the storybook, I was to hand over this box to you.” With that, Zhang Daosheng pushed the plain wooden box toward her.

Jiang Zhiyi looked down at the unassuming box and asked: “So your earlier departure for traveling was due to your fear of being implicated after revealing my peace marriage prophecy. And now that you’ve returned, it’s because my recent visit made you suspect that I wasn’t truly confessing to the Daoist deities but was instead seeking answers about the storybook?”

“Precisely. You have long searched for the second half of the storybook, and the ending may very well lie within this box. I have strictly followed my master’s orders and have not opened it. Please examine its contents carefully in private.” After speaking, Zhang Daosheng rose, bowed deeply, and exited the quiet chamber.

Jiang Zhiyi stared at the wooden box before her, her hands frozen in place for a long while.

Before her accident, she had scoured bookstores for the second volume of the storybook but found nothing. Later, after regaining her memory, Yuan Ce had sent trusted subordinates to investigate further, yet still came up empty-handed.

Now, the answer lay right before her eyes. The Daoist had said this contained her and Yuan Ce’s ending—but suddenly, she was too afraid to look.

To know one’s fate so early was terrifying, paralyzing even.

What kind of ending did the Jianwei Celestial Master foresee for them?

After a long silence, Jiang Zhiyi slowly reached out, closed her eyes briefly, and opened the box.

Inside was an envelope with no name inscribed on it. She carefully broke the wax seal, extracted the letter, took a deep breath, and unfolded it. The handwriting matched that of the storybook exactly.

As soon as her eyes landed on the first line, Jiang Zhiyi’s trembling hands nearly dropped the letter:

“In the thirteenth year of Xingwu, the emperor summoned Shen Yuan Ce of Hexi to the capital under charges of treason. Yuan Ce raised an army in rebellion and marched eastward, leaving behind a trail of corpses stretching for miles and rivers of blood. His forces advanced directly toward Chang’an.

When the army arrived at the city gates, the emperor brought the Duchess of Yongying onto the tower, threatening the rebels to surrender. Beneath the tower, Shen Yuan Ce disarmed himself, abandoned his horse, and stood still, pierced through by countless arrows.

The emperor accepted his surrender, sparing the lives of the Xuan Ce Army as per the negotiated terms. The Duchess of Yongying also escaped death but was confined to the palace after the war.

With the rebellion quelled, Western Luo seized the opportunity to invade. That same year, all of Hexi fell, and Da Ye teetered on the brink of collapse. Fortunately, the fourth prince rallied to save the nation from ruin.

Later, the fourth prince ascended the throne as emperor, adopting the era name Yongning. He released the Duchess of Yongying from the palace, restoring her freedom.

After leaving the palace, the duchess secluded herself in Taiqing Temple outside Chang’an with only one maid as company, never reentering society.

From then on, tales of the duchess and the once-renowned young war god remained mere rumors.

It was said that in the thirteenth year of Xingwu, when the emperor ordered the confiscation of the Shen family estate, someone found a jade pendant engraved with the character ‘Yi’ in the eastern study. Thus, people speculated that the duchess and Shen Yuan Ce had fallen in love in their youth and secretly pledged themselves to each other. Their outward disagreements were merely a ruse to deceive others.

Rumors grew wilder by the day, and romanticized accounts of their story spread like wildfire.

When I returned to the temple after my travels, I encountered visitors asking the duchess to confirm the truth of these tales. She smiled faintly and replied: ‘Merely the fantasies of the world.’

Though she dismissed their inquiries, she was curious about how the stories depicted them. Unfortunately, years of confinement in the dark palace had left her blind, unable to read. She ordered her maid to fetch the storybooks and read them aloud to her.

Living in seclusion at Taiqing Temple, the duchess found joy in listening to the tales. Day after day, her maid recited them repeatedly. Over time, the disciples of the temple could recite the storybook by heart, and the duchess herself almost believed the fictional tale, smiling whenever she listened to it.

However, while she treated everyone kindly, she harbored a deep hatred for me, never uttering a single word in my presence. I remained baffled by this for years.

It was not until the depths of winter in the seventh year of Yongning, on the verge of death, that the duchess finally visited my bedside, resolving my lifelong confusion.

Listening to her recount the past, I realized that the wife of the Shen family had given birth to twins. Due to my prophecy, the elder twin remained in the capital, while the younger was secretly sent to Hexi. In the eleventh year of Xingwu, during summer, the elder twin died in battle. By winter, the triumphant figure returning from Hexi was already his twin brother.

Unfortunately, the duchess only learned the truth after the younger twin disarmed himself, surrendered, and met his end. By then, it was too late.

No wonder the duchess despised me so deeply.

In my youthful arrogance, I believed I had unraveled the secrets of heaven and could influence the fate of a nation, relieving the ruler’s burdens and solving the world’s problems. Little did I know, I was merely a pawn of fate. My prophecy drove the Shen family to rebel, causing discord between ruler and subject, shattering the land, and plunging the people into suffering.

Prophecies—how laughable they are.

On my deathbed, I regretted my actions bitterly, unable to close my eyes in peace. Perhaps due to my lingering regrets, heaven took pity on me, granting me fleeting glimpses of fate’s turning points just before my demise.

When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn—transported back to the winter of the eleventh year of Xingwu, a month before the younger twin’s triumphant return.

Once dead, I now clung to this chance at life, determined to defy fate and rewrite my cursed prophecy, hoping to atone for my grave sins.

I recalled the visions I foresaw at the brink of death, replicated the storybook based on my memories, and included clues about the younger twin’s identity. I secretly sent it to the Marquis of Yong’en’s estate, hoping to become the catalyst for changing fate’s gears.

May the thirteenth year of Xingwu see no wars caused by my prophecies, no shattered lands, and no suffering people.

Sincerely, Jianwei’s confession.”

Jiang Zhiyi’s lashes quivered violently as her icy hands gripped the letter tightly, her fingertips pressing hard enough to spasm.

Her gaze slowly moved upward from the final lines, returning to the first sentence, fixating on the words: “The emperor brought the Duchess of Yongying onto the tower, threatening the rebels to surrender. Beneath the tower, Shen Yuan Ce disarmed himself, abandoned his horse, and stood still, pierced through by countless arrows.”

Suddenly, echoes of Yuan Ce’s comforting words from April rang in her ears: “I have a warhorse beneath me and weapons in my hands. How could arrows aimed at me hurt me unless I disarmed myself, stood still, and let them pierce me? Only then would I endure the thousand arrows you dreamt of. Understand?”

Yes, in her nightmare, he had been mounted on his horse, armed and ready. How could he possibly fail to dodge arrows shot straight at him?

That had merely been a nightmare born of her worries.

But in the true ending… he had no weapons.

He had no weapons…