Chapter 169: The Imperial Princess

At this moment, it was far from a private confrontation. Shen Zhiyi had delivered that resounding slap to Xiao Shu’s face right in front of the gates of Mingfeng Palace, under the watchful eyes of many. There was no intent to spare Xiao Shu’s dignity whatsoever.

She should have felt humiliated.

Even Xiao Shu herself had expected to feel humiliated. 

Yet, instead, her heart was filled with a calm sense of inevitability. 

Gently raising her hand to touch her cheek, her voice was as faint as drifting mist:  “If I had a choice, who wouldn’t wish to live with dignity? Your Highness, I’ve also had something I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time.”

Shen Zhiyi gazed at her almost with pity.

But Xiao Shu did not feel the least bit ashamed. 

She lowered her hand, glanced briefly at her open palm, and the anger in her eyes dissipated completely.

“From a very young age, I thought to myself, a spoiled and willful princess like you—I could play that role too. You live high above, unaware of the hardships of the mortal world, so naturally, you cannot understand what it’s like to serve others, to live as a subordinate.”

Shen Zhiyi said nothing.

Xiao Shu smiled sweetly at her.

“Let’s go, Your Highness.”

---

The Emperor, Shen Lang, and Empress Dowager Xiao had indeed been waiting for a while.

Prince Linzi, Shen Jie, was also present.

Perhaps because the recent selection of his consort hadn’t gone well—though the wedding was scheduled for next month—his expression already carried a hint of gloom, and he did not seem particularly pleased.

The palace attendants announced their arrival first. Shen Zhiyi entered from outside the hall, but unlike her usual lively and willful demeanor, she adhered strictly to court etiquette, bowing and greeting in accordance with palace protocol.

Xiao Shu followed behind her.

The faint redness on her cheek from the slap wasn’t particularly conspicuous but was still noticeable.

The weary emperor, seated high above, noticed it immediately. His brow raised slightly as he glanced at Shen Zhiyi, and the corners of his lips curled into a faint smile. 

Yet, he said nothing, as though he hadn’t seen a thing, and carried on speaking with Shen Zhiyi as usual.

The Empress Dowager occasionally offered a word or two of concern but didn’t spare even a glance for Xiao Shu.

Beyond the palace, political turmoil was brewing. The Xiao family had been struggling under the weight of investigations into the misuse of funds for disaster relief in Ganzhou. Evidence seemed to surface as if it had a mind of its own, leaving the family scrambling to respond. The Empress Dowager couldn’t help but suspect that Xiao Shu’s sudden elevation to noble consort on the night she had left Kunning Palace was the result of some private agreement with the emperor.

The vast imperial hall was filled with people. 

Conversations about care and blessings were exchanged, but they all felt perfunctory and devoid of true warmth.

The only person who displayed a trace of genuine concern was perhaps Shen Jie.

From the moment Shen Zhiyi entered, his brow had been furrowed. He fretted about the dust on the road, reminded her to mind her diet during the journey, and even seemed on the verge of saying something important several times. 

Yet, glancing at the expressions of his elder brother and mother, he ultimately held his tongue.

He was not the eldest legitimate son of the royal family. From an early age, he grew up under the protection of his father, mother, and elder brothers. The struggle for the throne was irrelevant to him. 

Without expectations or responsibilities, he was spared from both overt and covert conflicts, leaving him the luxury to be sentimental.

However, even his sentimentality was constrained by his cowardice.

Shen Zhiyi used to think this royal brother was amiable and entertaining. But now, as she stood within the scene, observing with detachment, she noticed things she had overlooked before and discerned details she had previously missed.

After all the conversations ended, they offered incense to the gods, read the imperial decree, and conferred upon her the ceremonial seal of the Daqian Festival. This allowed Shen Zhiyi, in her role as the Princess of the Daqian, to mediate conflicts between the two nations when she arrived in Xiongnu.

By the time all the ceremonies were completed, it was past noon.

Among the noble families and dignitaries in the capital, there were those close to Shen Zhiyi. Her former companions at the Yangzhi Zhai and innocent playmates came to the palace to see her off and strolled with her in the imperial garden.

Although Xiao Shu had once been a companion at the Yangzhi Zhai, she did not join the group. 

Instead, she stood afar by the rockery, instructing the palace staff beside her: “Withdraw the extra guards added to Mingfeng Palace. Retreat to the northwest and northeast palace gates. Without my command, no one is to act rashly. Also, assign someone to closely monitor. If the second daughter of Minister Jiang arrives, report to me immediately.”

The palace staff were somewhat puzzled.

Xiao Shu, however, lowered her gaze, hiding the sharp glint in her eyes. She no longer glanced at the group in the imperial garden and returned to her chambers.

Jiang Xuening arrived late.

Passing several palace gates, she noticed little difference from her previous visits to the palace except for the festive decorations. 

In her past life, when Shen Zhiyi was sent for a political marriage by imperial decree, Jiang Xuening had already been chosen as the wife of the Prince of Linzi. She stayed at her residence, waiting for her wedding. At that time, Shen Zhiyi disliked her meddling and wasn’t close to her. 

Naturally, Jiang Xuening wished this bothersome sister-in-law to leave sooner and didn’t come to the palace to see her off. Thus, she had no basis to compare the past and present events.

But someone unexpected was in the palace this time—Zheng Bao.

Before reaching the imperial garden, passing through two palace gates, Zheng Bao came from the direction of Qianqing Palace. 

As he brushed past her, he quickly whispered:  “The Noble Consort has redeployed the guards, setting a trap. The decoy has infiltrated Mingfeng Palace. At three-quarters past the hour of You (around 6:30 PM), the princess’s sedan will leave the palace. You must complete your task by half-past You, disguise the princess as a palace maid to exit via Shunzhen Gate, and leave the palace quickly yourself.”

The time, three-quarters past the hour of You, was an auspicious moment calculated by the Bureau of Astronomy.

In spring, the lengths of day and night are nearly equal. At that time, day transitioned to night, from light to shadow.

Jiang Xuening pondered that this arrangement was likely similar to the late-night exile of the Marquis of Yongyi. Due to public discontent over the political marriage, the court avoided potential disturbances during the day, fabricating an elegant excuse to change the time to the evening.

She nodded in acknowledgment and continued forward as if nothing had happened.

The palace staff guided her to the imperial garden.

Shen Zhiyi saw her and jokingly scolded her for being late.

Jiang Xuening, with reddened eyes, responded that she would make amends by staying to accompany the princess longer.

Everyone who studied at the Hall knew that the Princess Leyang had always shown Jiang Xuening great favor. With such a powerful supporter about to depart, Jiang Xuening’s reluctance was understandable. 

Her tearful display didn’t seem suspicious, and her request to stay longer for a chat was naturally granted. Since the others had arrived earlier, they reasoned the two might wish to share some private words. As the sun began to set, they excused themselves, promising to see the princess off at the city gate.

While others were present, Jiang Xuening managed to maintain composure, holding back her tears.

Once everyone left, she grasped Shen Zhiyi’s hand and sorrowfully called out, “Your Highness…”

Late spring had arrived, and few flowers still bloomed in the imperial garden.

The shadows were dense, the setting sun casting slanted light.

The palace staff stood far away, leaving the garden cold and desolate after the earlier cheerful gathering of friends.

Shen Zhiyi, adorned in regal attire weighed down with elaborate ornaments, stood unsteadily under the burden.

She smiled at Jiang Xuening and said, “Earlier, Su Shangyi suggested calling you to do my makeup. I told her that Ning Ning would burst into tears upon seeing me. Just now, when you didn’t cry, I thought I had guessed wrong. It turns out you’re still as hopeless as ever.”

The sun dipped below the horizon—it was now half-past the hour of You.

Jiang Xuening had no time to entertain Shen Zhiyi’s playful banter. 

Without even wiping away her tears, she grabbed Shen Zhiyi’s hand, urging her to rise from the pavilion. “Your Highness, there’s not much time left. Come with me quickly—we must return to Mingfeng Palace first.”

Shen Zhiyi was taken aback. “What?”

Jiang Xuening glanced around and spotted a young eunuch peeking in their direction. She deduced he must have been sent to monitor them. 

A cold sneer flickered in her heart as she resolutely declared, “Everything has already been arranged. If you come with me to Mingfeng Palace, we can switch your identity and disguise you to leave the palace. As for the matter of the political marriage, there are capable hands to handle the aftermath. As long as you can safely leave the palace, the rest will be as good as done!”

She held Shen Zhiyi’s hand tightly and began to walk forward.

But after taking just two steps, she felt resistance behind her. Turning back, she saw Shen Zhiyi standing still, a confused expression on her face.

In that instant, Jiang Xuening felt a pang of unease in her heart.

“Leave the palace?” Shen Zhiyi repeated, her tone laced with confusion.

Jiang Xuening felt as though her heart was hanging by a fragile thread, suspended high in the air. 

Even her voice quivered as she replied, “Yes, Your Highness. Don’t you remember? I asked you about this before.”

Shen Zhiyi seemed unable to recall.

Before entering the palace, Jiang Xuening had carefully considered all the scenarios she might face—whether it was her plan being exposed or Xiao Shu intercepting her. Yet, none of those imagined scenarios aligned with the situation unfolding before her now.

Something had gone wrong.

Jiang Xuening vividly remembered Shen Zhiyi’s response that night. 

She repeated it to jog her memory: “On my birthday, when we drank together in your palace, I asked if you’d consider escaping far away to avoid the political marriage. You answered me then and even lamented being born into the imperial family…”

The sky grew darker.

The palace lanterns in the imperial garden began to light one after another.

The distant chirping of birds and the buzzing of insects echoed faintly, emphasizing the chilling silence of the moment.

Shen Zhiyi appeared dazed. The reflections of the palace lanterns danced in her pupils, but they were merely empty images, offering no warmth or clarity.

Blinking softly, the faint cherry-pink at the corner of her eye quivered gently—almost like a single pink tear.

She finally remembered, her heart stirred, eyes reddened, yet her smile carried a bitter tang. Raising her hand, she gently caressed Jiang Xuening’s cool cheek, her voice trembling with tears:

“Silly Ning Ning, you said it yourself—it was from drinking. Those words were nothing but drunken ramblings! How could you take them seriously…”

With a crisp “snap,” the fragile string in Jiang Xuening’s heart finally broke from this seemingly weightless statement. The heart she had held aloft came crashing down, breaking, hurting, and finally numbing her entirely.

She could scarcely believe what she had just heard.

Her mind churned in a chaotic mess, tangled and confused.

It took her a long moment to process, and when she did, she stumbled back a step, as though falling into a disorienting dream, murmuring, “How could this be? Going to Tatar to marry for alliance? Your Highness clearly doesn’t want this. It shouldn’t be you going, and it can’t be you going. If you don’t want to, then why go? I’ve arranged everything. You only need to return to Mingfeng Palace, make a switch, and you can escape these four palace walls. Why won’t you leave? Why won’t you go?”

Shen Zhiyi hadn’t expected her drunken words to be taken seriously. Despite her attempts to suppress it, her tears brimmed hotly.

She tilted her head back, trying to keep the tears from falling.

A crescent moon hung above sparse sycamore branches, its cold light casting frosty hues over her pale face. Yet a delicate blush of rouge lent her cheeks a strange warmth.

The wind rose, tugging at her flowing sleeves.

She thought she should not let Ning Ning’s meticulous planning—efforts born from who-knows-how-much care—go to waste. She should simply run away as her former naive and reckless self might have. But a heavier, deeper weight pressed on her shoulders, sinking into her heart.

At this moment, Jiang Xuening found she couldn’t quite see Shen Zhiyi’s features clearly, couldn’t read the look in her eyes.

All she heard was Shen Zhiyi’s hoarse voice.

Slowly, Shen Zhiyi said, “Anyone else under the heavens may have the right to run away, but I cannot. I alone cannot.”

Jiang Xuening was utterly bewildered.

Shen Zhiyi stood atop the steps, letting out a bitter and self-mocking laugh. Bathed in moonlight, her figure seemed imbued with a profound heaviness:

“There’s a saying: Those who accept the ruler’s salary must serve the ruler’s cause. But the truth is, it should be the other way around: Those who draw from the people’s lifeblood must serve the people’s welfare.

The emperor’s throne, the nobility of the royal family—they didn’t just fall from the heavens. It’s the taxes of the realm, the corvée labor of the masses, that provide the silken robes, the lavish feasts, the bows of respect. It’s the people bending their backs like beasts of burden, while the royal family is exalted as gods.

I, in the palace, have always been arrogant by nature and know little of the outside world. But you, Ning Ning, grew up in the streets and countryside, and you’ve seen much of life’s hardships. You must know: if war breaks out, if treachery corrupts the nation, if the virtuous are silenced, how can we hope for victory? The fall of the royal family is trivial; the suffering of the people is what matters. No matter how rotten the court may be, I am still a princess of this empire…”

Jiang Xuening froze completely.

For the first time, a thought surfaced in her mind—one she had never entertained in her past life.

Shen Zhiyi closed her eyes slowly, as if to quell the surging emotions in her heart, or perhaps to keep the courage she’d summoned from fading away. She continued:

“Ning Ning, I am not driven by some grand sense of righteousness. I am simply afraid— terrified.”

Jiang Xuening’s throat tightened, leaving her speechless.

Shen Zhiyi fixed her gaze on her, a new resolve glinting in her eyes, one of steel and perseverance she had never shown before:

“I’m afraid of running away when fate comes knocking today, afraid of losing without a fight and becoming a coward who shrinks from every shadow. I’m afraid of shirking my duty when the time comes, and later hearing the cries of children amid a devastated land, unable to hold my head high!”

In her past life, Jiang Xuening hadn’t known how Shen Zhiyi had gone to Tatar for the alliance. She only knew that the once-radiant princess now lay in a coffin, forever silent.

She had never considered this possibility—

That the once-spoiled, willful princess had chosen to go of her own volition!

In her past life, Jiang Xuening had disguised herself as a man, making Shen Zhiyi fall in love with her, then hate her. In this life, she approached Shen Zhiyi, claiming true feelings but largely seeking personal gain and safety.

She wanted to save Shen Zhiyi—wanted to repay the grace Shen Zhiyi had shown her.

But until this moment, she hadn’t realized how absurd, how laughable, her efforts were. She had misunderstood so much…

At this juncture, Jiang Xuening felt she should stop being stubborn, stop forcing her will. After all, once someone’s resolve is set, how could anyone else change it?

Yet she still couldn’t reconcile it. She still couldn’t let go.

Could she really just watch her march toward that doomed fate, without offering any resistance?

She grabbed Shen Zhiyi’s hand, her voice almost a plea: “Please, Your Highness, please don’t do this. Whether it’s drunken ramblings or not, you promised me. I’ll take you out of the palace. I’ll take you away!”

Tears slipped down Shen Zhiyi’s cheeks. “Just consider it a wish that will never come true.”

Without another word, she turned and walked away.

She feared that if she stayed even a moment longer, her heart would soften, and she would regret her decision.

But Jiang Xuening chased after her, finally unable to control herself, shouting: “The Tatars have wicked intentions. This marriage is just a ploy to buy time! This should never be a price you have to pay! Don’t you realize that if you go, you might—”

Shen Zhiyi stopped.

She couldn’t bring herself to utter the word, afraid that speaking it would make it real. Looking at her retreating back, she despaired: “Your Highness, you’re going far away, and the journey home is so long. I’m just… I’m just afraid that when you’re gone, even if I miss you, I won’t be able to see you.”

The flowers in the garden had fallen, casting dappled shadows on the ground.

At the corner of the garden, a tree of rare green plums stood with twisted branches, resembling the unburied bones of soldiers outside Yanmen Pass.

Yet, in the air, the sweet fragrance of gardenias lingered.

Shen Zhiyi, with her back to Jiang Xuening, gazed at the crescent moon in the dark blue sky. She looked around for a long while before finally turning back to glance at her. There were no more words, only a soft motion as she knelt to gather a handful of soft earth beneath a tree, walking back toward Jiang Xuening.

She placed the soil in Jiang Xuening’s palm.

It was hard to say whether it felt light or heavy.

She wanted Jiang Xuening to smile, her eyes shining like stars: “Ning Ning, don’t come to see me off. When one day, Yan Lin leads the army of Daqian to break through Yanmen, bring this soil with you and come back to welcome me—back to my homeland, back to my old city.”

Tears suddenly blurred her vision.

At the second quarter of the night, Shen Zhiyi no longer hesitated, walking past a palace lantern that flickered faintly.

By the time her figure had almost vanished, Jiang Xuening stumbled a few steps forward, but in the darkness, she could see nothing. “Your Highness, I promise you!”

That hoarse voice shattered the darkness.

“Your Highness, I promise you—”

“When the iron hooves trample the Yanmen Gate in the future, I will bring this handful of homeland soil and welcome you back to the motherland, to the capital!”

“I promise you.”

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