Extra 1: The Protagonist’s Past Life · Part 1

The thirteenth year of Xingwu, winter. The Cold Palace.

The desolate palace doors were tightly shut, with only ventilation holes allowing air to pass through. All the windows had been nailed shut with wooden boards, so even at the brightest part of the day, only a few faint beams of light filtered through the cracks in the boards, illuminating the swirling dust on the roof of the hall.

In the silent room, the nearly extinguished charcoal fire emitted a faint, dying glow. Jingzhe was resting her head on the edge of the bed and woke up with a start when she heard a crackling sound. She immediately looked up to check the bed.

The person on the bed had disheveled black hair, a pale face, and furrowed brows as if troubled by unsettling dreams. Her hand, hanging loosely by her side, was clenched into a fist so tight that her whole body trembled with the effort.

Jingzhe hurriedly pried open Jiang Zhiyi’s fingers, which were digging into her palm, and saw the crescent-shaped marks imprinted in purple-red on her palm. She quickly stood up to fetch some ointment from the drawer.

Twisting open the porcelain bottle cap, she realized that the ointment was almost gone. She called out for someone, several times, but the only response she received was the harsh cawing of crows outside the window.

A hostage who was no longer useful, even the guards no longer paid attention.

Who would remember that the girl lying abandoned in this cold palace, ignored by all, was once the most spoiled and favored noble lady in Chang’an, more favored even than the imperial princesses?

From being surrounded by riches and adored like a moon among stars, to falling into the dust — it had taken only two years.

Jingzhe looked around this gloomy cage, dragging her steps back to the bedside. She scraped the remaining ointment from the inside of the porcelain jar with her fingertips and gently applied it to Jiang Zhiyi’s palm. Looking at those ghastly scars and the burnt-out charcoal fire at her feet, she shed silent tears.

This entire tragedy began two years ago at the Yong’en Marquis Mansion.

That winter, the Lady of the house, in order to arrange a marriage between the young master and the Princess, took advantage of the Marquis being away on a southern mission to repair canals. She secretly employed witchcraft against the Princess, using a maid planted by her side. At a banquet attended by nobles, they carried out their underhanded scheme and sent the Princess to the young master’s quarters.

When she noticed something amiss and rushed there, she fought desperately to protect the Princess’s virtue, but could not prevent the scandal from spreading, plunging the Princess into endless rumors.

Amidst the storm of gossip, the Princess had nightmares every night and felt so nauseous that she couldn’t stay in the mansion for even a single day.

With the Marquis absent, the Emperor intervened and severely punished the Lady and the young master. He then brought the Princess into the palace, letting her stay in the quarters that had always been reserved for her.

The Princess always knew that the Emperor granted such honors to the descendants of meritorious officials to consolidate his power and win over hearts shortly after ascending the throne. But too much had already been lost. If one were to question whether what was left was truly pure, wouldn’t that be pitiful? The Princess didn’t want to dwell on these thoughts. As she had done for many years, she accepted this imperial favor.

For the next two months, the Princess lived secluded in the deep palace, never stepping out. Though seeking peace and quiet, her daily life remained exceedingly luxurious. With Princess Baojia visiting from time to time, her days passed rather pleasantly.

At that time, the Princess genuinely appreciated the safe haven the Emperor provided.

Under the Emperor’s authority, the rumors gradually subsided, and the Princess’s nightmares also slowly faded.

As the year-end approached, a shocking case of embezzlement involving military funds erupted within the family of the Lady’s household, the Kang Le Earl’s family. The Zhong family was thrown into prison en masse, and Lady Zhong’s reliance on her family was shattered completely.

Finally able to feel triumphant, the Princess asked who had exposed the Zhong family and done such a good deed.

She investigated on behalf of the Princess and heard that it was Lord Xuande’s family, the Zhuo family, who had filed the accusation. However, there was another rumor circulating in the palace that said the Hedong Military Governor Fan had subtly hinted to the Emperor that it was General Shen Yuanze pulling strings behind the scenes.

“Shen Yuanze?” The Princess was quite surprised to hear this name.

After all, if the Princess were to take a guess, even if she went through every official in court, the name Shen Yuanze would probably never come up.

It was then that the Princess learned the once spoiled young man who, in his youth, had thrown tantrums over a cricket, had undergone three years of warfare and was now vastly different. Today, Shen Yuanze bore the title of the Young War God. On the day of his triumphant return two months ago, the streets of Chang’an were deserted as people flocked to celebrate, with flower petals raining down. Even the grand parade of newly crowned scholars held once every three years couldn’t compare to the spectacle.

The Princess, who disliked the cold in winter, rarely ventured outside. Furthermore, just as General Shen returned triumphantly, an incident occurred, and for these two months, she hadn’t crossed paths with him. Hearing this, she still found it hard to believe and asked if it was true.

She relayed everything she had gathered from outside to the Princess, detailing General Shen’s achievements on the western front and his current popularity at the Tianchong Academy.

The Princess remained skeptical.

The Marquis had missed returning to the capital for the New Year because of his duties. On New Year’s Eve, Princess Baojia came to the palace to spend the holiday with the Princess. In a lighthearted manner, she said, “Could it be that Shen Yuanze felt too guilty about how he treated you in the past and decided to bring down the Zhong family as an apology?”

The Princess scoffed, saying, “Forget it. Not to mention whether Shen Yuanze has the ability, even if he did, he wouldn’t have the conscience.”

Princess Baojia, never one to shy away from trouble, went straight to ask General Shen if he had acted on behalf of the Princess. To her surprise, General Shen replied, “After three years without seeing each other, the Princess’s talent for self-delusion seems to have grown.”

Furious upon hearing this, the Princess was livid, both at General Shen for his unchanged rudeness and at Princess Baojia for taking matters into her own hands. “Who said he’s changed? Isn’t he still the same insufferable person?”

Princess Baojia apologized profusely, consoling the Princess, saying, “Who would’ve thought that Shen Yuanze, who appears respectable from afar, is still the same towards you. I’ll ignore him from now on.”

Nevertheless, seeing that the Princess now had the energy to be upset with someone, it seemed the shadow cast by the young master was finally lifting.

On the second day of the first lunar month, the Emperor hosted a banquet for envoys from various states. The Princess attended the grand palace feast along with the princes and princesses.

Midway through the banquet, urgent news arrived from eight hundred miles west: the Queen of Xiluo was critically ill. Like a stone causing ripples in a pond, the Xiluo delegation hastily departed the capital, stirring unrest in the palace as everyone began plotting their next moves.

After the banquet concluded, the Emperor urgently summoned General Shen to the palace to discuss the matter.

That day in the palace, the Princess met General Shen for the first time in three years.

Passing by each other with a glance, the Princess was still annoyed by General Shen’s earlier comment about self-delusion, and General Shen seemed equally uninterested in engaging in further verbal sparring. Neither spoke to the other.

Though the political winds were shifting at that time, none of it concerned the Princess. For her, it was just another ordinary day amidst countless others.

After that day, General Shen set off back to Hexi, while the Marquis returned to Chang’an to reunite with the Princess. A divorce letter expelled the Lady from the Marquis’s residence, and all male members of the Zhong family were sentenced to exile, disappearing during their journey.

Everyone the Princess disliked was now gone from Chang’an, except for the eldest son, who, as the Marquis’s legitimate heir, remained in the residence. Unwilling to put the Marquis in a difficult position of choosing between his son and herself, the Princess claimed that living in the palace was more comfortable and decided not to return to the Marquis’s residence.

She continued to accompany the Princess in the palace until early February, when alarming news reached them that the Marquis had contracted a cold and developed sudden lung disease. Only then did they learn that the Marquis’s failure to return to the capital for the New Year wasn’t due to his duties but because he had been accidentally injured by a falling rock while working on the canal, leaving him with a lingering ailment.

The Princess hurriedly returned to the Marquis’s residence, putting aside her hatred for the eldest son. From that day forward, she tended to the Marquis’s bedside every day.

Despite seeking out all the renowned doctors in Chang’an, the Marquis showed no signs of improvement.

Princess Baojia suggested that perhaps someone could save the Marquis and wrote a letter to Hexi.

It turned out that under General Shen’s command was a military doctor named Li Dafeng, an old acquaintance of Princess Baojia, known for his miraculous healing skills.

Following the prescription sent back by Doctor Li, the Marquis’s condition finally stabilized.

The Princess prepared gifts to send to Hexi, thinking that since Doctor Li was stationed at the Xuan Ce camp in Guzang, General Shen might hold a grudge and refuse to assist. To ensure his cooperation, she also sent a gift to General Shen to silence any objections.

The Marquis’s health improved day by day, and thePrincess (jun zhu, a title for a princess of the second rank) also took this opportunity to move back to the Marquis’s residence. Everything seemed to have returned to how it was before.

Until that day, a hundred days after the West Luo Queen’s death, a piece of devastating news shattered the life the Princess had painstakingly pieced back together—

West Luo sent a memorial to Da Ye requesting the continuation of a marriage alliance. The person they sought to marry was unexpectedly the Princess.

They belatedly recalled that on the second day of the first lunar month, when the Princess attended the palace banquet, the West Luo envoy was seated opposite her and had asked a palace maid, “Which princess is this?”

The lustful old king of West Luo probably learned of the Princess’s existence in this way.

However, the reason Princess Deqing went to West Luo for a marriage alliance in the past was because Da Ye was weak and had no choice but to maintain stability on the border through this means. Now, Da Ye had the strength to fight, and the Holy One had been in power for many years and had always valued martial prowess. How could he agree to a marriage alliance?

Moreover, when the Princess had her accident before, the Holy One had said to her, “Does my imperial daughter need to condescend to marry such a petty person because of a few rumors? Don’t worry about what others say; your royal uncle will arrange the best marriage for you in the future.”

They all initially thought that the Holy One would not send the Princess to West Luo.

Several days later, the Holy One summoned the Princess to the palace and said with a great headache, “The Hexi region is the throat connecting the Central Plains and the Western Regions, and it is also a shield for Da Ye against foreign enemies. For thousands of years, it has always been a strategically important place for military strategists. The war with the Northern Di lasted three years before it ended. If we were to fight another three-year war with West Luo, how could Hexi withstand it? How could Da Ye withstand it?”

The Princess returned from the palace dispirited, finally understanding the Holy One’s true intentions.

Hexi, Hedong, and the imperial court were originally a stable triangle. Now, the Fan family in Hedong had grown powerful and likely harbored rebellious intentions. With the Second Prince, his nephew, plotting in the capital, the Emperor had to rely on the sword of Hexi to check Hedong.

However, once Hexi went to war with West Luo, it would have no time to attend to other matters, very likely allowing Hedong to take advantage of the situation.

The Emperor could not take such a risk, so he had to sacrifice the Princess to secure peace in the west.

Half a year ago, the Emperor spread his wings to shield the Princess from wind and rain. Half a year later, the Emperor personally pushed the Princess into a raging storm.

Overnight, the orphaned daughter of a meritorious official, once used to win people’s hearts, became a discarded pawn.

A young girl who had not yet met someone she admired, nor had she seriously considered what kind of person she wanted to marry, had to accept such a cruel fate for the sake of the political situation.

It turned out that on a day the Princess thought was just like any other, in a place unseen by everyone, the gears of fate had long since silently begun to turn.

The Marquis was so heartbroken that his cough worsened again. He dragged his ailing body to plead with the Holy One. Princess Baojia had a big quarrel with the Holy One, and the Fourth Prince, who had been close to the Princess since childhood, also earnestly requested the Holy One to reconsider.

Unfortunately, no one could stop the Holy One’s determined will.

The Princess held the imperial decree of conferment and sat blankly all night. She had no choice but to accept her fate, yet she still had to comfort the Marquis, saying that as long as she hadn’t truly married into West Luo, there was still a chance.

Like a mantis trying to stop a chariot, what chance could there be? Faced with the overall situation, the Princess knew she was always the one to be abandoned. She was used to it, and even hatred had become calm.

While waiting for the wedding attire and the preparation of the marriage procession, the Princess neither cried nor made a fuss, but just sat hugging her knees on the bed day after day.

Her attendant advised the Princess not to resign herself to fate so easily. If the Holy One’s concerns were about Hexi, wouldn’t General Shen be able to change the situation?

“How could Shen Yuance help me? Besides, if I don’t go for the marriage alliance, wouldn’t he have to go to war?” At that time, the Princess didn’t even consider this possibility.

“What about Minister Zhou? This servant has inquired, and the envoy escorting you for the marriage alliance is Zhou Zhengan, the Minister of the Court of State Ceremonies. Minister Zhou also deeply regrets that Da Ye has been preparing for war for ten years, yet still has to resort to a marriage alliance. Is there any possibility we can win him over?” she continued to advise the Princess.

“If we can get Minister Zhou’s help, perhaps there’s a way to try,” the Princess murmured.

Although the chances were slim, at least there was a way to try even if it seemed hopeless. Her attendant cheered up the Princess and managed to obtain a prescription for a fake death. They began to prepare a plan for a clever escape.

Before departing, the Princess lied to the Marquis, saying that the prescription wouldn’t harm her body and that he didn’t need to worry. Under the escort of the envoy, she embarked on the westward journey.

It was a rare scorching summer in Da Ye. Under the blazing sun, the marriage procession traveled less than twenty li (approximately 10 kilometers) each day. The Princess suffered from the summer heat, but she also had more time and opportunities to win people’s hearts.

Throughout the arduous journey, the Princess treated her subordinates with kindness and never uttered a single complaint. She often shared her stored ice with the overheated servants and attendants in the procession. Gradually, everyone’s perception of the rumored spoiled Princess changed, and they took even better care of her.

But the most crucial person was Minister Zhou. They wanted to try to subtly sway Zhou Zhengan, and then negotiate with him when the time was right.

One day, as they were about to leave the vicinity of the capital, the marriage procession camped in the wild. Coincidentally, dumplings were served for the meal. The Princess decided to stage a self-inflicted hardship, pretending to be careless and allowing the dumplings to be brought into her tent.

Because the Princess had heard the devastating news of her mother’s suicide while eating dumplings as a child, she had not eaten them for many years. Even seeing dumplings would make her feel suffocated. Facing the dumplings brought before her, the Princess broke out in a cold sweat and vomited uncontrollably, frightening Zhou Zhengan into hastily summoning a physician.

Her attendant then pretended to have been negligent in her service and arrived late, naturally telling Zhou Zhengan and the physician about the past events related to the dumplings.

Minister Zhou, being a parent himself, saw the hidden suffering of the outwardly glamorous Princess and sighed, ordering that dumplings should never appear in the procession again.

After that, the Princess occasionally showed weakness, and the weaknesses she displayed were all genuine, except for one thing.

Once, the Princess fainted due to the summer heat. Zhou Zhengan sighed and said that if the princess had married earlier, she wouldn’t have suffered this.

Hearing Zhou Zhengan’s words, it seemed he regretted the Princess’s earlier pickiness, which had led her to this situation. Thinking that the time wasn’t ripe enough, she added fuel to the fire, fabricating a story that the Princess originally had a betrothed, but it was ruined by the Zhong family, and she suffered slanderous rumors that led to the engagement being broken off.

Zhou Zhengan asked in surprise why he had never heard of this.

Her attendant fabricated a story, saying that the Marquis initially looked down on the other party, and the Princess could only associate with him secretly, so no one in Chang’an knew about it.

Mixing truth with lies, Zhou Zhengan indeed believed her. Her attendant continued to embellish the story, and Zhou Zhengan’s gaze towards the Princess became more and more sympathetic day by day.

But this bit of sympathy was not enough to win over an imperial envoy. The Princess pondered how to lay the groundwork for the next step of her plan.

Unexpectedly, an accident happened at this time.

At the end of the sixth lunar month, the Second Prince and the Fan family of Hedong took advantage of the drought in the three southern prefectures to launch a rebellion, cutting off the road for the marriage procession.

The rebels came too suddenly, sending troops directly to seize Chang’an on one route, and launching a main attack within the passes to intercept the Hexi reinforcements on the other. The area where they were located had not yet experienced the flames of war, but amidst the chaos, the marriage procession had to stay put.

Zhou Zhengan led the envoy to take refuge in a city near the capital, waiting for the imperial court to join forces with Hexi to quell the rebellion.

They spent a month there in fear and anxiety. After hearing about the Hedong uprising, the Xuan Ce Army set out from Hexi to provide aid, traveling over a thousand li in forced marches, only to encounter resistance upon reaching Xingzhou.

A traitor appeared in Xingyang City, the seat of Xingzhou. A city that should have been easy to defend was easily captured by the rebels and became their stronghold to resist the Xuan Ce Army.

The Xuan Ce Army had traveled a long distance to provide aid and was already exhausted even though they were formidable. They inevitably spent a great deal of time and sacrificed many soldiers there, but fortunately, they finally captured Xingyang.

After passing this crucial point, the Xuan Ce Army was finally able to advance unimpeded, sweeping through the passes and recovering the territory, causing the rebel army to flee in disarray.

Just as the rebellion was about to be quelled, bad news arrived—the direction in which the Fan family was retreating from the capital was precisely through the city where the marriage envoy was located.

Zhou Siqing had a bad premonition and suspected that Lady Fan, having no other options and with no bargaining chips left, might take the princess who was sent for the marriage alliance as a hostage. He quickly disguised the princess and hid her in the home of a commoner within the city.

Soon enough, Zhou Siqing’s premonition came true. That night, the rebels stormed into the city, searching house by house.

She protected the princess, keeping her hidden and not daring to let her out, but the rebels were utterly ruthless. They declared that if the princess wasn’t handed over, they would massacre the city’s citizens.

Hiding in the darkness, she and the princess watched as the rebels marched back and forth outside with torches in hand. When one of the rebels raised his blade to kill a young child and began counting down to one, at that very moment, the princess broke free from her grasp and tremblingly rushed out.

“I always said, how could the daughter of Duke Ning ignore the lives of ordinary people? What a pity—your blood is too kind, my dear Princess. Uncle Fan will give you a lesson today: kind-hearted people have too many weaknesses, which is why good people will never get their just reward.” Sitting tall on his horse, Fan laughed mockingly as he looked at the self-sacrificing princess.

As soon as his words ended, in the blink of an eye, a heavy arrow pierced through the darkness, striking straight through Fan’s chest.

The rebel forces around froze in shock, forgetting even to restrain the princess. Fan slowly lowered his gaze to the arrow embedded in his chest, unable to believe it as he fell off his horse.

“Then let me give you a lesson, Envoy Fan: chatterbox villains don’t get happy endings either.” A smiling male voice echoed from atop a roof.

That was the second time the princess met General Shen, the young commander.

In the smoke-filled, fire-lit night, at the moment when despair gripped the princess most tightly, the young man miraculously infiltrated the city occupied by rebels, appearing like a god descending from the heavens.

The princess finally believed that the title of “War God,” bestowed upon him by the world, was no empty praise. She also began to question the image of him she had once held in her memory.

That night, General Shen, armed with only his spear, carved out a bloody path for the princess.

She led the princess along the escape route, and the reinforcements of the Xuan Ce Army that arrived later also rescued the captured marriage alliance delegation. However, by the time they regrouped with Zhou Siqing at the camp at dawn, they realized that more than half of the delegation was missing.

It turned out that the previous night, before threatening to massacre the city, the rebels had first targeted the delegation, killing one after another. Yet no one betrayed the princess’s whereabouts, prompting the rebels to shift their search to the city.

Zhou Siqing reluctantly explained that everyone in the delegation had been indebted to the princess’s kindness along the way. At the time, they thought that as long as they could delay for a moment, reinforcements would be closer.

As daylight broke fully, bodies lay scattered across the ground. Compared to the despair of walking straight into a trap, it was then that the princess truly seemed to reach the brink of collapse.

Kneeling on the ground in the camp, surrounded by mountains of corpses and rivers of blood, the princess wept uncontrollably, repeatedly muttering apologies.

Perhaps none of those present—Zhou Siqing, General Shen, or Dr. Li—understood why the princess appeared so disheveled.

Only she knew. The princess’s apologies stemmed from the fact that every act of kindness she had shown to the members of the delegation had been calculated, meant to manipulate their hearts. But in the end, these people had repaid her insincere and trivial kindness with their lives.

She helped the princess back to the tent, passing by soldiers and attendants covered in wounds. As they passed General Shen’s tent, she saw soldiers carrying out bowls of bloody water while inside, the general, battered from fierce combat, casually tended to his new injuries layered over old ones.

The princess stood frozen in shock until Zhou Siqing came to lead her away, snapping her out of her trance.

Later, reflecting on it, perhaps it was from that day forward that the princess no longer disliked General Shen as much as she once did.

In truth, General Shen came to save the princess not because of who she was, but because of her identity as the princess sent for the marriage alliance. If the princess became a hostage, it would put General Shen in a difficult position. If he let Fan go, the rebellion would remain unresolved; if harm befell the princess, even a successful suppression of the rebellion would leave the Xuan Ce Army vulnerable to criticism, accused of disregarding the alliance and being overly warlike.

But for the princess, regardless of the initial reason, the final result was that General Shen had indeed suffered such injuries to save her.

Compared to the bloody scene she had witnessed, the petty quarrels from their youth seemed insignificant now.

In the days that followed, the marriage alliance delegation and the Xuan Ce Army stayed behind to rest and recuperate. The princess sent some medicine and food to General Shen on several occasions, and somehow, a misunderstanding arose.

One day, after finishing her duties caring for the princess, she was carrying a basin out of the princess’s tent when Zhou Siqing called her over.

Zhou Siqing asked whether the person the princess had secretly promised her life to wasn’t General Shen, by any chance.

She hadn’t expected the lie she had told offhandedly to be taken so literally and hastily denied it.

Upon reflection, the younger General Shen truly fit the description of someone the marquis would look down upon. He and the princess had crossed paths multiple times, and there were already rumors in court about General Shen toppling the Zhong family. Now, General Shen had single-handedly rescued the princess, and given the princess’s complicated emotions in recent days—grateful for his rescue yet awkward about their past—it was easy to mistake their relationship for something more intimate.

She immediately clarified that the princess and General Shen were simply bitter rivals. Her nervousness in lying unintentionally made Zhou Siqing think she was flustered because he had guessed the truth.

Zhou Siqing didn’t say much outwardly, merely stating that it was all a misunderstanding. She worried that if Zhou Siqing mentioned this to General Shen, and the general deduced their intentions, it would cause trouble. She hurriedly asked the princess what to do.

The princess, however, replied indifferently, “It doesn’t matter anymore whether we’re exposed or not.”

She vaguely sensed that the princess had made a decision but couldn’t be sure at the moment. It wasn’t until an imperial decree arrived from Chang’an, ordering the marriage alliance delegation to resume their westward journey after resting, with the Xuan Ce Army escorting them due to the heavy casualties among their escorts.

Since the marriage alliance had already been decided, delaying further would reveal to Xi Luo that Daye was severely weakened after its internal strife. Xi Luo might change their stance from peace to war, and the emperor wanted to avoid further conflict in Hexi. Thus, the marriage alliance had to continue.

On the eve of departure, the princess played the xun flute to hold a funeral for the sacrificed attendants. Upon returning to her tent, she crushed the pill intended for feigning death.

She desperately tried to stop the princess, but the princess calmly gazed at the fine powder and said, “Jingzhe, do you know what I thought of the moment Hedong rebelled and the marriage alliance was interrupted?”

Of what?

The princess answered, “I actually thought, ‘Now that Hedong has rebelled, will I not have to go through with the marriage alliance?’ So many cities are about to fall, so many innocent people are about to die under the rebels’ blades—but my first thought was this. Am I selfish…?”

“You didn’t know at the start how perilous this battle would be,” she consoled the princess.

“But I know now,” the princess said, looking at her. “If a person tries to block a chariot with their arms and refuses to accept fate, they’ll only end up costing others their lives… My fate—I accept it.”

The next day, under the protection of the remaining attendants and an elite unit of the Xuan Ce Army, the princess boarded the carriage heading west once again.

As the newly risen sun climbed higher, the princess leaned against the carriage wall, gazing indifferently at the armored youth mounted on his horse outside her window. She said, “I never expected that he would be the one to accompany me on this final leg of the journey.”

“The homeland lies ahead. Let’s make this last stretch enjoyable,” the princess said, smiling as she gazed at the distant mountains and rivers.

After that day, the princess seemed to forget the destination of this journey. Every day, she appeared cheerful and carefree.

Because the main roads were not yet fully open, the delegation mostly traveled rough terrain within Guanzhong. Having grown up in seclusion, the princess had once found the wilderness dirty and unpleasant, never experiencing its rustic charm. Now, however, she no longer minded anything. In the crisp autumn air of August, one day the delegation passed by a stream, and the princess, seized by sudden inspiration, said she wanted to catch fish.

Zhou Siqing said to let the princess have her way. The accompanying Xuan Ce Army soldiers, knowing that the princess had done what they themselves should have done during the marriage alliance, felt somewhat sympathetic and began teaching her how to catch fish.

Though the soldiers taught her, the princess couldn’t quite master it. Holding a fishing spear by the stream, she failed to catch any fish but was instead terrified by a water snake, causing chaos as everyone scrambled to catch the snake instead.

A group of elite soldiers was thrown into disarray by the princess. Unable to endure watching any longer, General Shen thrust a fish he had caught onto his spear and held it before the princess, asking, “Is this enough for Your Highness to eat?”

The princess, looking at the dense cluster of dead fish skewered on the sword, turned her head and vomited violently, unable to stomach anything for a full ten days afterward.

One day after the failed fishing attempt, while passing through a forest, the princess—having forgotten her earlier misfortune—became interested in hunting.

But hunting required learning archery, which was no simple task that could be mastered in a day. The soldiers mentioned there was something called a “sleeve arrow” that could be learned quickly, though it wasn’t commonly used in the army. However, they noted that their young general happened to know how to make one.

Perhaps the princess initially thought it would be too much trouble and decided to give up, but recalling how General Shen had spoiled her fun last time, she changed her mind and said, “Then issue an order: this princess wants a sleeve arrow.”

The next day, a sleeve arrow was delivered to the princess by the soldiers. It was clear that General Shen had been extremely reluctant to comply; he spent an entire day making the sleeve arrow and didn’t even show his face once.

When they arrived in the forest, the soldiers knew that even with the sleeve arrow, the princess wouldn’t be able to hit any prey. So they made preparations in advance. After the princess fired her arrow, they retrieved a rabbit they had already hidden in the bushes and told her she had hit it.

To avoid the princess seeing any gruesome scenes and becoming nauseated again, the soldiers had killed the rabbit beforehand in a very refined manner, ensuring no blood was visible.

The princess was overjoyed, as if she had captured not just a rabbit but the entire empire of Daye. In high spirits, she declared that she would reward the entire camp with her first-ever hunt.

However, when the rabbit was roasted, it became apparent that there wasn’t nearly enough to share. Only a few pieces of meat were distributed among the soldiers who participated in the hunt, and the princess kept a single rabbit leg for herself.

Just then, General Shen happened to pass by the campfire. The princess suddenly remembered that the sleeve arrow had been made by General Shen, and leaving him out might seem like she was still holding a grudge from the past. With some hesitation, she offered the rabbit leg she had been about to eat.

General Shen seemed to look down on such a measly piece of meat, which barely amounted to a mouthful, and didn’t bother to take it. Instead, he walked off to roast a deer he had casually hunted.

Now that was a catch large enough to feed the entire camp. As the princess muttered complaints about how venison wasn’t particularly tasty, she carefully chewed and savored every bite of her precious rabbit leg.

In the end, General Shen really didn’t share any of the venison with the princess. When she glared at him twice, he coldly remarked, “Didn’t Your Highness say—what’s so good about venison?”

Among the entire delegation, only General Shen dared to speak to the princess in such a manner. Returning to her tent, the princess huffed angrily and declared that next time she would hunt a deer herself.

After that, the princess developed a fondness for hunting. Whenever they stopped to rest during their journey, she would bring her sleeve arrow and call for people to join her in the hunt.

From rabbits to pheasants to deer, the princess’s reputation for being a “hundred-percent accurate marksman” spread throughout the delegation.

Of course, she knew the truth but never told the princess, since it was all done to keep her happy.

Even the most exotic game could become tiresome after a while. When the main road finally reopened and they happened to pass through a city on the day of the Mid-Autumn Festival, the princess took out a bag of gold leaves and asked Zhou Siqing to send someone into the city to purchase fine wine and food, saying she wanted to treat everyone for the holiday.

However, discipline in the army was strict, and no one dared to drink alcohol during the march. In the end, the food was distributed, but all the wine remained with the princess.

As the princess enjoyed the delicacies and sipped her wine, she sighed, lamenting the lack of entertainment. Feeling the effects of the alcohol, she sent for General Shen and asked him to perform with his spear for her amusement.

Annoyed beyond measure, General Shen turned and left without a word. The princess, however, burst into tears on her own, saying, “Isn’t everyone supposed to be keeping me happy? We haven’t even reached the border yet—why stop now…?”

It was only then that she realized the princess had known all along that she couldn’t hit any prey. She had simply given herself an excuse to be happy, pretending not to know the truth.

It was as if she were pretending this was nothing more than a delightful autumn outing, with the final destination still being the road home.

On the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival, she understood that the princess was homesick. Amidst her tears, the princess rambled incoherently, eventually moving away from the topic of the spear performance. She spoke of her father, her mother, and the emperor whom she had called “Uncle” for ten years, asking why no one had chosen her.

She didn’t stop the princess, hoping that General Shen might feel a twinge of pity.

She didn’t know what General Shen was thinking as he stood by the entrance of the tent for a long time. Eventually, with his back turned to the princess, he said five words: “If you want to watch, come out.”

She accompanied the princess out of the main tent, where they watched General Shen perform with his spear and sword under the moonlight. The princess stopped crying and laughed, drunkenly clapping and cheering from the side.

That night, after escorting the princess back to her tent, she went out to fetch water and saw General Shen sitting cross-legged on a tree branch, playing a tune on a leaf.

The melody carried a strange feeling, but at the time, she didn’t think much of it, assuming General Shen was simply bored.

It wasn’t until much later, when she recalled that scene and the music from that night, that she vaguely understood what that feeling was.

It was as if General Shen had truly understood the princess’s words.

It was as if, on that night, General Shen had felt just as lonely as the princess.

After getting drunk on the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival, the princess felt humiliated and avoided General Shen for several days.

After a while, the princess grew tired of her rustic amusements and found new entertainment. She instructed the attendants going into the city to buy supplies to also purchase a few sets of playing cards. During rest stops, she gathered people to play card games.

Thinking of how General Shen had once been a regular at gambling dens, the princess got over her earlier embarrassment. Considering how he had performed with his spear and sword for her, she invited him to join, setting aside past grievances.

General Shen said he had no time. That night, however, she and the princess discovered him secretly playing cards with Dr. Li.

“What does he mean by this?” the princess fumed.

She guessed and consoled the princess, saying, “Perhaps General Shen hasn’t played in years and is afraid of embarrassing himself in front of you, so he’s practicing first.”

Unexpectedly, her guess turned out to be correct. The next time the princess gathered people to play, General Shen accepted the invitation.

They assumed that since he needed practice, General Shen’s skills must have grown rusty. To their surprise, the card table was like a battlefield. General Shen played with the same overwhelming dominance as he displayed in combat, flipping and discarding cards with a smirk that determined the outcome.

Outwardly calm, the princess secretly studied and calculated strategies for the card game, issuing new challenges to General Shen—but she lost every time.

Finally, one night when she was too tired to stifle her yawns while drawing cards, the princess managed to get an unbeatable hand and won a round against General Shen.

Whether this miraculous hand was moved by heaven or by General Shen’s compassion, only he would know.

The road was long, and the princess found ways to entertain herself, trying every game she could think of. Along the way, she also improved her skills in more refined pursuits, such as chess.

Zhou Siqing probably understood that this was the princess’s final spree before her journey’s end. He indulged her as much as possible, turning a blind eye to her antics and pretending not to notice the absurdity of it all.

Though they played during their free time, the journey itself proceeded without delay. Step by step, they made their way into late autumn. One day, a torrential rainstorm disrupted their progress.

Caught in the downpour with no village or inn in sight, they found themselves beside a desolate mountain. Dark clouds blanketed the sky, as if doomsday had arrived early.

The sound of rain pounding on the carriage roof echoed like a drumbeat, threatening to cave it in. She comforted the frightened princess and peeked through a gap in the carriage door to check the road conditions. Just then, she saw General Shen suddenly raise his hand, signaling for all the carriages and horses to turn back.

The carriage struggled to turn around on the muddy road, taking half a day to make any progress. General Shen opened the carriage door, climbed aboard, and shouted, “Abandon the carriage and retreat!” Urging them to get out.

At first, they didn’t know what had happened ahead. Seeing General Shen’s unprecedented seriousness, they hurriedly followed him out.

She wanted to hold an umbrella for the princess, but General Shen, standing by the carriage, seemed to have lost his patience. He removed his cloak, draped it over the princess’s head, and scooped her up in one swift motion. He placed her onto his horse, then mounted it himself, urging the horse forward with a whip.

Hearing the princess’s startled cry, she hastily climbed onto another horse and quickly caught up with the two of them.

Everyone in the delegation followed General Shen as they rapidly evacuated. After retreating some distance, a loud rumbling sound—distinct from the rain—erupted behind them. In an instant, the mountains roared, the earth shook, and water surged as the ground split apart.

Turning back, they saw rocks cascading down the mountain ridge, right where they had been heading.

She rode after the princess, her heart racing with lingering fear. Upon reaching a safe area, she saw General Shen, one hand gripping the reins and the other holding the princess securely in front of him, issuing orders for everyone to move toward higher ground.

Outside, fierce winds and torrential rains battered the world, as if the sky was collapsing and the earth splitting open. Yet inside General Shen’s cloak, the princess remained unharmed.

General Shen lifted the princess off the horse, knelt on one knee, and bent down, presenting his back to her. “Climb on,” he said.

The princess, still dazed and shaken, hesitated before cautiously climbing onto General Shen’s back.

General Shen took the umbrella from her and instructed the princess to hold it herself. With the princess on his back, he began walking toward higher ground.

In a life-or-death situation like this, it was clear that General Shen was simply acting out of necessity. But those following behind were momentarily entranced by the scene unfolding before them.

For a fleeting moment, it looked as though they were witnessing a perfectly matched pair.

She hurried to catch up with the two of them, watching as General Shen trudged through the muddy waters, step by step, ascending the slope. One hand supported the princess’s legs while the other occasionally grabbed a tree trunk along the way for leverage.

Their fragmented conversation mingled with the sound of the rain, drifting over—

“Tilt the umbrella back a little; it’s blocking my view.”

“But then won’t you get soaked?”

“Does Your Highness think everyone is as delicate as you? Is this even considered rain?”

She looked up through the white haze of the rain and saw the princess adjust the umbrella backward. It now fully shielded the princess, but General Shen was completely exposed to the rain.

The princess held a handkerchief in her hand, hesitating as she extended her hand, then pulled it back, repeated the motion several times, and finally wiped the rain-soaked forehead of General Shen.

General Shen’s steps faltered for a brief moment. After a pause, he resumed walking, carrying the princess step by step up the slope.