"Will you marry me?"
The crookedly polished diamonds shimmered in the moonlight like fireflies.
The courtyard still carried the faint scent of burnt willow bark.
Shen Changyin lowered her gaze.
Perhaps a crescent moon and half the Milky Way had fallen into Xie Yu's eyes—otherwise, how could they be so bright?
Xie Yu had carefully planned every part of tonight. Now she couldn't even wait a single second. When Shen Changyin didn't immediately say "yes," the expectation in her eyes turned into nervousness.
Fortunately, in the second that followed, Shen Changyin reached out her hand to her.
"I'm willing. Whether it's a thousand times or ten thousand times."
Xie Yu immediately broke into a smile. Cheers erupted outside the courtyard at once.
She stood up, carefully placed the ring on Shen Changyin's finger, then put the other one on herself, letting the two crooked diamonds gently touch.
"Now you're mine, and I'm yours," she whispered.
Shen Changyin replied softly, "You've been mine for a long time already."
Old Jin and the others, who had been pressed nervously against the courtyard wall outside, immediately rushed in, carrying baskets filled with dried flower petals, flinging them into the air as they ran.
Little Wan and the little beggar were even more delighted by the flower shower than the two adults. They spun in circles in the petals and started dancing.
Watching them, Xie Yu suddenly said, "I'm old."
Old Jin, who happened to hear that, glared at her. "What nonsense are you talking about? If you're old, what does that make me?"
Xie Yu just laughed.
She didn't truly mean she was old in age—she just felt she had matured.
After all, she now had a wife, rings, and a job.
With a tolerant expression, she watched the two teenage girls dancing in the petals. She didn't feel the slightest urge to join them.
She really had grown steadier.
But then little Wan and the little beggar started competing to see who could grab more petals in one handful.
Xie Yu watched them press their heads together, counting the petals in their palms.
"Twenty-three!" one shouted.
"Twenty-six! I win!" the other yelled.
Xie Yu shifted her neck uneasily.
Old Jin and the others had gone inside to bring out the celebratory wine. Shen Changyin quietly leaned closer. "If you want to join, then go."
Xie Yu glanced at her. "It's childish."
Shen Changyin replied earnestly, "How could it be? I think Little Xie influencing the outcome of that competition would look very cool."
Xie Yu let out a half-suppressed laugh.
She dashed toward the two girls, shouting, "Stand back! I have the Wind-Summoning Shadowless Hand!"
When Old Jin and the others carried out the wine and snacks, they happened to see Xie Yu boasting to the girls, "Eleven rounds, ten wins. The two of you combined can't grab more petals than me. Just surrender early."
Old Jin set down the small table and stood beside Shen Changyin, watching Xie Yu. "Ha. So you've decided on her, have you?"
Shen Changyin smiled as she looked at Xie Yu. "Mm. It's her."
After playing for a while, the wine and food were ready. They were forcibly ordered to stop the game and return to the table to celebrate.
Old Jin poured sweet rice wine for the two girls. The adults drank fine autumn dew white wine. Xie Yu had one bowl of sweet rice wine and one bowl of autumn dew white wine, quietly mocking herself for being childish.
She didn't mind. She grinned. "Everyone else drinks one bowl. I'll drink two."
They raised their cups together. After the first bowl, Old Jin suddenly sighed. "Thinking back, I once helped Lady Shen chase after you. You nearly ran to the ends of the earth back then. Who would've thought you'd end up like this?"
"You were so fiercely opposed to each other."
Shen Changyin was in a good mood and even smiled. "Forceful pursuit and strategic capture were the most effective methods for Little Xie, after all."
Although tonight Xie Yu had shown her an alternative way their relationship could have developed, Shen Changyin still believed that decisive pursuit was the most efficient and reliable route.
"Since we have today," she said, "then every choice made in the past can be called perfect. Worth more than gold."
Xie Yu shook her head quietly. "Not really. I was serious tonight. If you hadn't used those tactics on me, we might have started dating within half a month."
"You think I'm some overly kind saint who would randomly save an adult off the street?"
"At that time the streets were in chaos. Even a fool should've run. At most, I would've saved children. Adults have to take responsibility for their own safety."
Shen Changyin set down her cup and looked at her very seriously.
Xie Yu kept a straight face, though her words turned vague. "Well… the first time I saw you, I really thought you were beautiful. I felt it would be a pity if you got hurt, so I saved you."
Seeing Shen Changyin's expression start to change, she quickly added:
"But under those circumstances, our feelings definitely wouldn't have grown as deep as they are now. Look at everything we've been through. What we have now is the strongest kind of love."
Shen Changyin's expression softened.
Jiang Fang and Doctor Zhang were sitting together shelling peanuts. Hearing this, Jiang Fang suddenly snorted.
Xie Yu shot her a sharp look. "What, you two don't agree? You two smooth-sailing lovers dare compare yourselves to me and Shen Changyin?"
"Even street storybooks would rather write about our story, okay?"
Everyone bickered noisily. Old Jin watched with a smile, drained her wine in one gulp, and lifted the empty jug. "As expected of imperial wine. Heavens above—the aroma of tribute wine is far richer than my cheap liquor."
"Of course," Xie Yu said proudly. "I went straight into the empress's private treasury. I took the most expensive one."
"And this table, these peanuts—either from the royal treasury or the imperial kitchen. If I'm proposing, I'm using the best and most expensive things."
She was a little tipsy now, shouting, bragging, and slightly reckless.
But soon, a knock sounded at the courtyard gate.
They all exchanged glances, sobering halfway, unsure who would come at this hour.
Zhu Ting immediately stood up, alert. She opened the door a crack and spoke with someone outside.
Then she opened it wider, speechless. "Third Princess, the whole roasted lamb you ordered has arrived."
Two restaurant servers carried in a roasted lamb, about eighty percent done. Behind them came two helpers carrying fruitwood charcoal racks and other equipment.
Xie Yu smacked her palm against her face. "I forgot to cancel it."
She turned to Shen Changyin. "You never tell us what you like, so I had to guess. Since you lived in the northwest for so long, I thought you might like roasted lamb, so I ordered one."
Her eyes rolled as she remembered something else. "Speaking of forgetting to cancel, I think I…"
Before she finished, four more people appeared at the gate. The leader politely asked, "Which lady ordered nine hundred and ninety-nine velvet flowers?"
Everyone turned to look at Xie Yu.
She lowered her head silently.
After that came stacked towers of Jiangnan pastries, carefully arranged seasonal fruit displays, neatly bound rare ancient books, and even an opera troupe carrying instruments.
The troupe stood at the courtyard entrance, ready to play the wedding march Xie Yu had hummed off-key from memory.
She really had prepared thoroughly. She had considered every element she associated with romance. But after the courtyard fire ruined her original plan, she had focused on a new one and forgotten to cancel all these previous arrangements.
As the music began, Old Jin and the others went from speechless to openly enjoying the spectacle.
Xie Yu waved frantically. "That's enough, that's enough. Everyone go back. I'll still pay. Just go back."
"Take the pastries. Split the fruit among yourselves. Send the velvet flowers back…"
Shen Changyin suddenly stepped beside her and whispered, "Keep the ancient books."
Xie Yu immediately nodded and shouted, "Yes! Keep the ancient books! We want those!"
Finally, everyone left. The courtyard returned to peace. Just as Old Jin was about to speak, a sharp explosion rang out from the eastern sky. A streak of light cut across the heavens.
Zhu Ting instinctively reached for her weapon. "What signal flare is that?"
The flare reached the highest point in the sky and exploded into brilliant fireworks. Zhu Ting relaxed and lowered her weapon.
"Fireworks."
Xie Yu nodded. "Yes. Clearly I forgot to cancel the fireworks too."
The next second, silver-blue fireworks burst in the western sky.
"Clearly," Xie Yu said, "I ordered from more than one fireworks vendor."
When fireworks erupted in the southern sky as well, everyone remained calm.
"Clearly," she continued, "I ordered from more than two."
Three separate displays lit up the night in rapid succession. The entire sky blazed so brightly that even the brilliant stars became mere background.
The two girls had already climbed into a tree, sitting on a branch and swinging their legs as they watched.
Xie Yu and Shen Changyin stood below, heads tilted upward.
Their little fingers gently hooked together.
They stayed up for most of the night. Someone rambled about random thoughts. Someone drank quietly. Someone buried herself in the newly acquired ancient books.
Xie Yu had only drunk a little, yet she soon felt drowsy. Not thinking much of it, she leaned against Shen Changyin's shoulder and closed her eyes.
She only intended a short nap, but those brief dozens of minutes pulled her back into that "parallel timeline" dream.
A few days ago, she had used that dream to search for the perfect place to propose. Now she didn't need to anymore, so she simply wandered aimlessly within it.
Before long, Shen Changyin nudged her awake.
"Little Xie? Wake up. It's time to go back."
Xie Yu nodded, stood up, and returned with Shen Changyin to the Princess's residence by carriage.
She dozed again in the carriage and reentered the dream, only waking when they got off.
Perhaps the dream restored her energy. She hopped down lightly and reached out a hand to help Shen Changyin.
Hand in hand, they entered the Jin Princess's residence, passed through the front hall and garden, returned to the main courtyard, and stepped into the central hall.
Standing in the middle of the hall, still holding hands, neither moved.
They looked at the incense altar decorations before them. Their joined hands swayed slightly.
Xie Yu whispered, "My room?"
Shen Changyin tugged gently on her hand and whispered back, "Alright."
—
The moon was veiled by drifting clouds, and those clouds seemed to fall and become pale, weightless bed curtains, concealing two young bodies beneath them.
Everything was soft—like clouds, like spun sugar.
They were almost drowned in that softness, lost against each other. Every inch of skin was damp, and amid broken breaths, only the quiet sound of water lingered.
—
They did not fall into deep sleep until dawn. When Xie Yu drifted off, she was in an excellent mood.
When she opened her eyes, Shen Changyin was no longer beside her.
She reacted at once.
She was dreaming again—back in that parallel world where Shen Changyin did not exist.
—— [Dream Entry] ——
She got out of bed, humming an off-key tune she couldn't quite whistle, changing clothes as she went. Even her steps seemed to carry a breeze.
How could she not be in a good mood?
This dream world—once something she had treated as a "weapon against Shen Changyin"—had now become a different kind of cheat code.
Here, she could do whatever she wanted. Drift leisurely. Wander the rivers and lakes. Take life as it came.
Outside the dream, she could eat with Shen Changyin, raise cats and dogs together, and cling to each other while doing absolutely everything.
Shen Changyin could even be her backing.
Can't finish her classical studies homework?
She had a wife now. Why would she still need to write her own homework?
Heavens—who said nothing in this world could be perfect?
Her life right now was so perfect it was ridiculous.
Xie Yu hummed as she finished breakfast.
She discovered yet another advantage: she could eat six meals a day—three in reality, three in dreams. The calories wouldn't stack. Her abs wouldn't disappear.
Even better.
The only flaw was that the cook in this manor was clearly not as good as the one Shen Changyin had once brought with her. The breakfast wasn't bad exactly—just barely passable.
After eating, Xie Yu felt something was missing.
Suddenly she remembered the shad fish she had eaten with Shen Changyin two days ago.
That plate of braised shad in sauce—fragrant to the last bite. The flesh had been tender and elastic, unforgettable.
At the time, Shen Changyin had explained that all river fish lose their true flavor quickly once removed from the water. If one wanted the freshest, most delicious shad, it was best to go to the riverbank and kill and cook it on the spot.
They had agreed to go fishing in a few days.
Xie Yu thought fishing sounded fun—though she had never actually fished before. Still, she had resolved to show off in front of Shen Changyin.
Perfect. She could practice in this dream.
In high spirits, she had the steward prepare a straw hat, a short, fitted outfit, insect-repelling water brewed from herbs, and selected a modest fishing rod. She was ready.
There was no bait in the manor. The steward told her that fermented grain bait from East Third Street worked best. She calculated the route to the river outside the city and found it was conveniently along the way.
So she happily decided to buy bait herself.
The weather was wonderful. The streets were lively. Though she was technically on her way to buy fishing bait, every stall seemed interesting.
Like a slice-of-life game player picking up endless side quests, she had already assigned herself countless future tasks within half an hour of strolling.
"Make plum blossom cakes by hand."
"Help the old candy artist shape a dragon out of sugar."
"Assist the blacksmith in forging the perfect shears for trimming hedges."
Everything sounded fun.
She even thought happily that if any task turned out especially interesting, she would bring Shen Changyin to try it after she woke up.
Soon she spotted a crowd gathered somewhere. Determined never to miss a spectacle, she squeezed in.
Then she realized—it wasn't as fun as she'd hoped.
At the center stood a public notice board, layered with sheets of writing.
Behind it was a teahouse favored by all imperial examination candidates in the capital. It was steeped in scholarly air. Students often gathered here to debate.
The teahouse owner had installed a notice board outside. Every so often, she would post a question related to state affairs. Anyone knowledgeable could write an essay and paste it up for public discussion.
Some even copied especially good essays and circulated them widely. Rumor had it that high-ranking officials in court read the best pieces.
Xie Yu gathered this information, then curled her lip in a cold smile.
These officials were from her own family's court. She knew exactly what that bunch was like.
They barely had enough time to scheme, embezzle, and eliminate rivals—did anyone seriously think they spent their off-hours appreciating student essays?
She didn't believe it.
But today's question caught her attention.
She struggled a bit with classical prose, but the topic was clear enough.
The gist was:
If you were at war and captured a prisoner who might possess vital intelligence, would you use torture to interrogate her?
Interrogation?
At that word, Xie Yu was fully awake.
She began reading all the posted responses.
After someone pasted her essay, onlookers could show support by borrowing special rose-colored ink from the teahouse owner and drawing a small circle on the essay.
Xie Yu skimmed several of the most popular essays.
She quickly realized opinions were split into two camps.
One supported torture, citing Legalist principles. Only under suffering could truth be extracted, they argued. Once someone became the enemy, she forfeited the right to gentle treatment.
Some essays even included lines like, "Mercy toward the enemy is cruelty toward oneself."
The other camp opposed torture. They advocated benevolence and moral rule, arguing that as the great civilization of the Central Plains, they must not cross moral lines.
Both sides used mature rhetorical techniques.
Some argued that since criminals in prison could be tortured for truth, there was no reason prisoners of war could not be.
The opposing side countered: how many innocent people had been imprisoned? Why subject innocents to torture?
Layer upon layer of essays argued back and forth.
They had even developed a kind of reply system—pasting slips above existing essays to rebut them.
It was rather amusing.
After surveying the board, Xie Yu noticed that the pro-torture camp clearly dominated.
The most important piece was written in impeccable standard script, nearly covered in red circles.
Before reading it, Xie Yu first admired the handwriting.
It wasn't flashy cursive beauty—it was proper, upright, balanced. The sort of writing teachers loved during exams. The sort used to copy perfect essays.
The title read:
"A Refutation of the Kingly Way."
The author was signed as Shen Gengxu.
Gengxu was one of the sixty-year cyclical designations, indicating the year of birth.
A pseudonym, clearly—a scholar surnamed Shen born in a Gengxu year.
Xie Yu unconsciously calculated.
This person was born the same year as Shen Changyin.
But she didn't connect them—just noted the coincidence.
There were plenty of people surnamed Shen born that year.
Besides, Shen Changyin's handwriting was slender and sharp, full of hidden edge—completely unlike her usual gentle demeanor. This author wrote an elegant orthodox script.
After estimating the author's age, Xie Yu began reading.
The more she read, the more startled she became.
Beneath the graceful script lay ruthless, rigorous logic.
The essay cited classics extensively, but its underlying attitude was uniquely sharp.
The author argued that those who despised torture and advocated moral rule cared only about national reputation and prestige—not tangible benefits.
Torture, on the other hand, could yield intelligence, deter enemies, secure victory, and reduce casualties.
However, the author also insisted torture must be systematic. A specialized interrogation discipline should be established. Trained interrogators should be appointed to prevent interrogations from devolving into mere vengeance.
Once intelligence was obtained, torture should cease.
In short: scientific torture—so long as it was effective.
Of course, the essay avoided the blunt term "torture," using the more euphemistic "strict interrogation."
Xie Yu finished reading with interest.
The thinking was still immature—but Shen Changyin would definitely like it.
Still, she disagreed.
With her long fishing rod slung across her back and straw hat on her head, she cut a rather comical figure as she entered the teahouse.
"Boss, give me paper and brush."
She sat at a simple table on the first floor and wrote freely for a full page. She didn't bother citing classics—she simply gave examples and reasoned through them.
When finished, she pasted her paper beside "A Refutation of the Kingly Way."
Wearing her straw hat, she didn't notice that from the moment she stepped in, several scholars on the second and third floors had begun watching her.
When they heard she intended to write an essay rebutting "A Refutation of the Kingly Way," they laughed at her audacity—mocking her for overestimating herself.
Then, almost as one, they turned their gazes toward a young woman seated among them.
She was the author of "A Refutation of the Kingly Way."
The young woman was just over twenty. Her features were exceedingly delicate and beautiful, though suppressed beneath a stern expression.
She dressed plainly, her figure thin. It was obvious her financial situation was worse than that of all the surrounding scholars, yet she was faintly the central figure among them.
"Sister Shen, are you just going to tolerate her like this?" one of the younger scholars blurted out bluntly.
The young woman surnamed Shen gazed quietly at the straw hat bobbing below. She said nothing—only let out a cold laugh.
When the straw-hatted woman finished writing her essay and pasted it beside A Refutation of the Kingly Way, a stir rose from outside.
They waited a moment. Finally, the young woman surnamed Shen stood. "Let's go see."
The group of scholars gathered before the notice board.
They saw that the straw-hatted woman's freshly posted sheet had already been marked with many rose-colored circles. Clearly, supporters of benevolent governance—those opposed to strict interrogation—had rushed to endorse it. They had been suppressed for so long; finally seeing a well-written essay on their side, they flocked to it.
The pro-torture scholars looked at the new essay with disdain.
So short. Clearly the author lacked grounding in the classics. And she wanted to debate the Shen scholar?
But as they read, their expressions gradually grew serious.
The essay did not play tricks. It began plainly, directly refuting the Shen scholar's arguments.
"A Refutation of the Kingly Way" claimed benevolent rule was useless and torture effective.
This essay opened by declaring the opposite: torture was useless, while moderate policies might occasionally prove effective.
Without sparing feelings, the straw-hatted woman stated that believing torture would inevitably produce truth was pure wishful thinking.
She gave an example:
Suppose in a murder case there are two suspects, A and B. A is the true culprit, but the presiding judge does not know this.
The judge subjects both A and B to torture, implementing a policy of "no confession, no end to punishment."
The straw-hatted woman argued this would inevitably lead both A and B to confess to being the murderer.
She explained that one reason the "torture works" argument flourishes is that fear of prolonged suffering often exceeds fear of death itself. Under endless punishment, both suspects would rather confess than endure continued torment.
By the time they finished reading this example, the scholars behind the Shen woman were already shifting uneasily.
The straw-hatted woman continued with a logical extension, returning to the wartime scenario in the original question.
She wrote:
You torture a prisoner of war because you do not know the truth or the intelligence she holds.
Because you do not know the truth, you cannot know when torture should stop.
Because you do not know when to stop, you will almost certainly exceed the necessary limits.
And that prisoner, seeking only to escape immediate pain, will inevitably offer false intelligence.
The essay was brief but sharp and original.
Even staunch supporters of torture felt their conviction waver after reading it.
For a moment, the crowd was filled with sighs and thoughtful intakes of breath.
Only the young woman standing at the center remained unchanged, her expression like solid ice.
"Tomorrow at this time," she said softly, though with unmistakable arrogance, "I will post a new essay here."
The crowd's anticipation only grew.
The Shen scholar left the teahouse in haste and returned to her residence—a crude single room partitioned off from a family courtyard to earn extra income.
It was cold in winter, stifling in summer. The walls were thin, plastered with a mixture of clay and straw.
As soon as she returned, she began drafting her rebuttal. After writing for a while, she stalled. She set down her brush and pressed a hand to her hungry stomach.
The teahouse was a place for discussion. A learned presence attracted others.
She needed to build her reputation there. The owner needed her to attract scholars. They had quickly reached an agreement—her tea was free.
But tea did not fill the stomach.
She lifted the lid of her small rice jar in the corner.
There was still rice—but only a thin layer at the bottom.
She was not the sort to exhaust every last grain before seeking alternatives. She treated this rice as a final safeguard. Taking the crude fishing net she had made herself, she left the city.
Long ago, she had discovered a naturally formed depression along a stretch of riverbank. Its terrain was ingenious—fish swimming downstream were easily swept into the hollow, yet found it difficult to escape.
There weren't fish every day. But every three to five days, she could usually catch enough small fish to fill her belly.
It had been six days since her last catch.
She was almost certain there would be fish today.
But when she arrived, the hollow pool was empty.
This had almost never happened. She had concealed the place carefully. No one had ever discovered it.
She stared at the reeds along the edge, bent under footprints. Her face remained expressionless.
Someone had come today.
Someone had taken her fish.
She did not linger at the empty pool. Instead, she climbed the riverbank and asked an elderly washerwoman nearby:
"Did you see anyone carrying fish from that direction today?"
The old woman slammed a wooden stick against the laundry. "Yes! Not long ago. Wearing a straw hat. Said she was fishing—but I didn't see her catch anything."
"Then she got frustrated, carved a stick sharp, and somehow speared two fish from somewhere. Left looking quite pleased."
No way.
A suspicion rose in her heart.
"Was it a light-colored straw hat? Blue clothing? Looked wealthy?"
The old woman nodded vigorously. "Oh yes. The fabric was fine quality."
It was her. The straw-hatted woman from the teahouse.
The young woman's face turned cold. "Thank you, Granny," she forced out.
She returned to the city.
—
Meanwhile, back in the manor within the dream, Xie Yu was tending a pot of fish tofu when someone nudged her.
She opened her eyes.
Shen Changyin's face appeared before her.
She had woken from the dream.
—— [Dream Exit] ——
Back in reality, Xie Yu touched her forehead and found it damp with sweat. She tried to speak, only to realize her throat was hoarse.
Outside the window, it was already afternoon.
Shen Changyin handed her a cup of water.
"I called you several times and you wouldn't wake up. I thought you must be exhausted from last night, so I let you sleep longer."
"I just shook you for quite a while before you finally woke up."
Xie Yu didn't think much of it. She drained the water in one gulp. "Maybe I really have been tired these past few days."
She dressed briskly. "But I had a very interesting dream. Want to hear it?"
"Later," Shen Changyin refused. "There's news from the palace. Your mother suddenly decided to hold a family banquet—tonight."
Xie Yu frowned. "Her authority's already been restricted that much. She still has time to arrange a banquet?"
Shen Changyin shook her head. "Who knows. Hurry and wash up. We'll eat something first, then attend."
Xie Yu swallowed all her thoughts about the torture debate.
She had originally wanted to ask which side Shen Changyin supported. But recalling Shen Changyin's interrogation style on the night they first met, she realized the question was unnecessary.
Shen Changyin clearly supported torture—and might even be highly skilled at it.
The essay in her dream had suggested cultivating specialized interrogators.
At most… someone like her wife.
With wandering thoughts, she finished dressing. Shen Changyin arranged her hair. Looking in the mirror, she once again saw a presentable crown princess.
Smiling, she leaned in and kissed the corner of Shen Changyin's lips.
"I'll tell you about that dream next time."
—
Author's Note
This strategic-minded little Shen is actually Shen in her previous life, before she passed the imperial examination and became Third Rank.
Isn't it fascinating? The current Shen, long ago, used to be like this.
Young. Proud of her talent. Vivid and sharp.
Also very poor.
But Xie Yu—stealing her future wife's fish and making her go hungry—is a major demerit. You deserve to compensate her with yourself.
(Xie Yu's dream is Shen's past life. That probably doesn't need explaining anymore, right?)
—
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