The streets were crowded. As soon as Shen Changyin stepped out of the alley, she realized she could not squeeze into the throng.
Fortunately, the attendants at the teahouse recognized her and let her up to the second floor.
"Please wait here. They'll reach this street very soon," the attendant said, serving her a pot of tea.
"All right. And a plate of cloud-slice cake," Shen Changyin replied without turning from the window.
"Right away."
The attendant soon returned with the delicate pastries, placed them gently on the table, and backed out, closing the door softly.
The teahouse catered to refined guests. Most furnishings in the private rooms were bamboo—natural grain patterns still faintly fragrant.
Books and scrolls lay everywhere. She picked one up at random and opened it—but could not read a single line.
Her mind was in chaos. The inked characters felt unfamiliar. Even forcing herself to continue, her thoughts drifted uncontrollably.
She sank into memory.
Again and again, she replayed her past with the straw-hat woman in her mind. If she had acted differently at some moment—would their relationship be different now?
Her gaze gradually unfocused as she drifted in the scent of bamboo.
A sudden eruption of cheers jolted her back.
She set the book down and looked outside.
Lowering her head, she saw half a masked face.
That face was slightly tilted upward, as though she had just glanced toward this teahouse before calmly looking away.
She rode a tall horse, posture straight, black hair tied high and falling to her waist.
Shen Changyin did not clearly see her features—only caught a fleeting glimpse of amber eyes beneath the mask.
They were the eyes of someone who had fought and killed.
She froze.
Then the parade passed on.
She hurriedly looked toward several of the Third Princess's subordinates in the ranks. Of course, she couldn't possibly find anyone wearing a straw hat. At a moment like this, how could the other woman still keep up such a strange outfit?
Only then did she suddenly realized that their connection had always been completely one-sided.
She didn't know the other woman's identity, didn't know her name, hadn't even seen what she looked like.
She had been foolish to rush to this teahouse in such a hurry.
She had been blinded by obsession.
She gripped the scroll in her hand so tightly that her knuckles turned pale.
—
Xie Yu and her entourage soon arrived before the imperial city. The Empress personally led the civil and military officials to welcome her.
Separated by more than ten meters, Xie Yu sat tall on her horse, looking down from above. The Empress, dressed in bright imperial yellow, stood on the ground with the officials and actually had to tilt her head up to look at her.
Among the officials behind the Empress were quite a few royalist supporters who had also come today. Their expressions varied wildly—strange and complicated.
For some reason, Xie Yu found it amusing, so she let out a light, reckless laugh.
The young general who had just returned in triumph from establishing great merit—such a flippant smile immediately changed the expressions of everyone present.
Xie Yu flipped down from her horse and strode forward in long steps.
In the world outside the dream, she had already been Crown Princess, yet she still had to keep up appearances with the Empress and the officials. Now, she could not even be bothered to pretend.
"Good morning."
She pulled off the mask from her face in one motion and casually tossed it to Jiang Fang behind her. The scar on her face was fully exposed under the sun, yet it only made her look more unrestrained.
The officials' expressions grew even more complicated—a scar on the face was hardly favorable for inheriting the throne.
But the Empress only looked at her with a complicated gaze. Not only was she not angry, there was even a hint of nostalgia in her eyes.
Xie Yu had no idea what the other woman was thinking and waved a hand impatiently to interrupt. "Wasn't there supposed to be a welcoming banquet for me?"
The Empress burst out laughing. "Of course. As if I'd ever let you go hungry?"
She waved her hand. "Have the imperial kitchen prepare a proper feast for your soldiers as well. You come back to the palace with me now."
Xie Yu brought a few trusted aides into the imperial city.
Along the way, she could see several princesses and many officials frequently glancing at her and whispering among themselves.
She paid them no mind at all. Upon entering the grand hall, she directly found the foremost seat beneath the throne and sat down with complete ease.
The official from the Ministry of Rites responsible for arranging the seating immediately panicked and was about to step forward when Vice Minister Zhang grabbed her.
"What are you doing?" Vice Minister Zhang hissed in a low voice.
The junior official from the Ministry of Rites was sweating anxiously. "That's usually the Eldest Princess's seat."
At present, there was no Crown Princess in the dynasty. The first table beneath the Empress naturally belonged to the Eldest Princess.
She was terrified that a commotion would break out later.
Vice Minister Zhang shook her head. "Look at the Eldest Princess. Do you see any reaction?"
The junior official hurriedly looked toward the Eldest Princess among the ranks.
The Eldest Princess's face showed no change at all. She calmly sat in the second chair, beneath the Third Princess.
From her onward, the Second Princess and the other princesses all obediently took their seats. Not one of them raised an objection.
Only then did Vice Minister Zhang say, "So what if she's the Eldest Princess? Can she compete with her now? Even she knows she can't win. If you rush to defend her dignity, she'll only think you're meddling."
The junior official suddenly understood and repeatedly thanked Vice Minister Zhang before hurrying off to oversee the other seating arrangements. She no longer dared interfere with the princesses' positions.
The Empress sat at the head of the hall. At her side was the chief palace attendant who had followed her since childhood, now an elderly woman with graying hair.
Looking at Xie Yu, who appeared so confident and justified, the Empress suddenly asked, "Look at her—why does she look like some monkey king?"
The chief attendant carefully replied with feeling, "Third Highness is abundant in martial virtue and resolute in action."
The Empress laughed. "You only know how to speak well of them. As if I don't know what she's really like. She's exactly like I was when I was young—wildly arrogant."
When she was young, she lost the struggle for succession. Betrayed and abandoned in the capital, she had no choice but to flee south. Yet after lying low for many years, she had truly fought her way back.
The day she reentered the capital, her mood had been just like Xie Yu's today—a victor surveying her domain.
She spoke lightly. "As if there's no one in the world who can control her."
The chief attendant finally understood the direction of the conversation and relaxed a little, daring to joke, "Third Highness resembles you. That is a tremendous blessing. How could that be called arrogance?"
The Empress smiled and shook her head, taking a sip of this year's freshly brewed orange wine.
"She played around so much she ended up with a scar on her face. Who knows what she was thinking? Later, go to the storeroom and find some scar-removing herbs to send to her."
"With her wild monkey temperament, she probably doesn't even have many competent physicians at hand. Bring along one of the imperial doctors while you're at it."
The chief attendant nodded heavily. "Understood."
Throughout the entire banquet, Xie Yu ate with great satisfaction. It wasn't that she despised the northwest, but that place truly had very few vegetables.
On the battlefield, the consumption of energy was enormous. Every day was heavy oil, heavy salt, plus carbohydrates or meat.
She couldn't even get a simple, refreshing plate of stir-fried lettuce with ham like the one in front of her now.
After finally returning, and with her first meal prepared by the imperial chefs, of course she opened her stomach wide to eat, determined to make up for all the vegetables she had missed.
She was completely at ease, utterly unconcerned with how others saw her. As for etiquette, she had long since thrown it to the winds.
An elderly official began to speak, intending to rely on her seniority to reprimand her for disgracing the royal image—but one glance from Xie Yu as she set down a chicken wing was enough to silence her.
She remembered—this was the Xie family madwoman who would randomly assign civil officials to the battlefield as foot soldiers.
The old woman trembled and slowly sat back down.
After dinner, Xie Yu returned to her residence.
Instead of going to sleep, she dismissed everyone and locked herself in her study.
Jiang Fang had already piled up everything she requested inside—stack upon stack of thick papers, all densely written.
Xie Yu sat quietly at her desk, reading through the pages and sorting them into categories.
In truth, all of these could be considered her diary.
The pressure on the battlefield was immense. Situations changed in an instant, and there were too many people entangled around her. It felt as if she constantly had countless threads of thought to untangle.
To clear her mind, she had no choice but to resume keeping a diary and planner to maintain inner calm.
The contents of the diary were divided into several categories.
One was miscellaneous technical matters, including blueprints for repeating crossbows and for plows used in farming—things she had improved in her spare time, well-suited for the northwest army. There were also records of how to rapidly reclaim land and farm in the northwest, and how to suppress local landlords and county magistrates there.
The second category was tactics. Warfare is the way of deception; she had to record it daily.
The third… was the true diary—casual notes about her life, spontaneous complaints.
In this section were letters she could never send.
All were addressed to Shen Changyin.
Looking at these letters, she curled her lips slightly, feeling amused.
Before being trapped in this world, she had wanted to confess to Shen Changyin, to write her a love letter. She had wracked her brain and still failed to produce a single line.
Now, having been separated from her for so long, writing such letters had become unexpectedly smooth.
Longing, affection—beneath her pen they flowed naturally.
One letter every ten days. Holding them in her hand, there were already more than a dozen.
She sorted everything into categories and bound them separately.
The blueprints and tactics she left on the desk for easy access; the diary she locked away in a drawer.
As for the letters to Shen Changyin? After a moment's thought, she placed them beneath her pillow.
Returning to her desk, she pulled out another sheet of paper. Gazing at the bright moon outside the window, round as a jade plate, she lifted her brush.
To Shen Changyin:
When you read this letter, it will be as if we have met.
I ate very well today and returned safely to the capital. No one dared show me any disrespect.
I have learned your method. I don't need to act myself—just a look of intimidation is enough to make them afraid.
The moon is very round tonight.
Some say that separation doesn't matter. Even if thousands of miles apart, when you look up, you can see the same moon and know the other person is looking at it with you.
But I find no comfort in that thought.
Because I already know that the moon I see is not the same moon you see.
I miss you very much, and I worry too.
I am probably still asleep, aren't I? I don't know whether I still have a heartbeat or breath. You must be very worried.
Please don't cremate me too quickly. If I die in this world, perhaps I can return to that body.
I don't know whether you exist in this world, but tomorrow I will go look for you.
A bright moon across ten thousand miles (crossed out)
I originally wanted to write some love poetry, but I still can't manage it. My progress seems limited to poems about war. You might as well call me a frontier poet.
Asking a frontier literary figure to write love poetry is truly a waste.
That's all for today. I'll talk to you next time.
Good night.
—Xie Yu.
After finishing the letter, she finally felt at ease. She washed up, placed the letter beneath her pillow, and fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning, she summoned all her subordinates.
"Two things. First, I will become Crown Princess. Second, we will expand our sphere of control to the entire nation."
She spoke concisely.
"Think about how to accomplish it."
Her subordinates had long anticipated that she would join the struggle for succession. In fact, they had already reached a conclusion in their hearts—even if the Third Highness did not wish to become Empress, they would push her onto the throne.
They needed a good Empress. And in their hearts, there was only one woman they had ever acknowledged as such.
But they had not expected Xie Yu to be this straightforward.
Even Jiang Fang was shocked. She didn't show it during the meeting, but after it ended, she quietly stayed behind and asked her why.
"I'm looking for someone. She could be anywhere under the heavens. It will be very hard for me to find her."
"The more power I hold, the wider my influence spreads, the more people I can mobilize—then the greater my chances of finding her."
Her reasoning was calm and crystal clear.
But Jiang Fang was anything but calm. She was deeply worried.
Anyone who discovered that the wise sovereign she had pledged herself to was actually the type to light beacon fires for a lover would be worried like this.
Fortunately, although the Third Highness's reason for expanding her power was wildly irrational, she herself was not. Every day she handled affairs with composure, and the decisions she made were almost never wrong.
Everyone thought the Third Highness resembled a perfect sage ruler. Only Jiang Fang occasionally glimpsed that beneath that calm and gentle exterior, something was probably going mad.
They had chosen the right direction and expanded rapidly. They hardly directly controlled local grassroots administrations. Aside from the military authority she had once refused to return, she now held an additional force composed of personnel similar to constables. The Third Highness had even tricked the Fifth Princess and seized control of the Death Warrior Camp.
The Third Highness renamed that constable-filled force the Secret Police.
Jiang Fang instinctively felt that name was inappropriate and somewhat derogatory, so she asked about it.
Xie Yu replied matter-of-factly, "Of course it's not a good name. We never planned to use it for honorable work. Aren't they all doing dirty jobs?"
Even so, did she have to sound so righteous about it?!
Jiang Fang was already familiar with her superior's unique style, yet she still felt suffocated.
The Death Warrior Camp was also renamed by Xie Yu as the Special Operations Camp.
With the Northwest Army, the Secret Police, the Special Operations Camp, and the seven northwestern provinces as her stronghold, the position of Crown Princess naturally fell into her hands.
On the day the struggle for the Crown Princess title took place, the forces behind the other princesses naturally stirred up fierce opposition. The capital was in turmoil, and quite a few scholars smashed their heads against pillars, declaring that the Third Highness was like a demon on the battlefield—cruel and merciless. How could the nation be entrusted to such a person?
But once her people revealed the blades in their hands, the officials became much calmer and expressed that if she wanted to be Crown Princess, then so be it.
What surprised Jiang Fang most in this process was the Empress's support for Xie Yu.
She couldn't understand it. Her Third Highness had never been favored—so why was the Empress supporting her now?
After much discreet inquiry, she heard rumors, half true and half false, that the Empress had changed her attitude because Xie Yu resembled her younger self.
Jiang Fang half believed it, half doubted it, and ultimately let it go.
She had already risen to the third rank of officialdom and was so busy her feet barely touched the ground. She had lost interest in royal secrets.
The most passionate part of her daily life was scolding Xie Yu, her superior, for devoting most of her energy to searching for someone and leaving her, a subordinate, without rest.
Xie Yu had become immune to her complaints. Usually, she would mark places she had already searched on a map while murmuring, "Mm-hmm, yes, yes, you're absolutely right."
Sometimes, when Jiang Fang's temper seemed especially fierce, she would even suggest that Jiang Fang go fall in love—pay more attention to the beauty of life and less to her superior's laziness.
Jiang Fang sneered. "With the workload you've given me, do you think I still have time to fall in love?"
Xie Yu would then guiltily rub her nose and fall silent.
In this timeline, because Xie Yu wasn't lying flat, Jiang Fang wasn't lying flat either. So she had no time to fall in love, and she and Physician Zhang never got together.
They only shared the camaraderie of colleagues united in hatred of their boss.
Not long after Xie Yu became Crown Princess, she received a memorial from Jiangnan.
General Shen of the Jiangnan Navy requested to bring her troops north so that the Empress and the new Crown Princess could review them.
Naturally, she also brought her daughter, Shen Liuzhen.
Xie Yu couldn't help but sigh at the pair's consistent standards in choosing partners—no matter in her past life or this one, when she was out of favor they acted as if she didn't exist. The moment she was about to become Empress, they immediately came to the capital.
This time, Xie Yu had not married, nor had her engagement with Shen Liuzhen been dissolved. So as soon as the Empress and General Shen met, they began enthusiastically matchmaking, chattering away and even trying to set a wedding date on the spot.
Of course Xie Yu refused. She gently said at the scene, "No."
"No?" the Empress asked in confusion.
"It was arranged by our mothers and has been an engagement for many years. Why not?" General Shen's tone was even firmer than the Empress's.
Xie Yu looked at her in puzzlement for a moment—then understood.
Jiangnan was far away. General Shen had not received timely updates about the capital's shifting situation. She did not believe Xie Yu's military achievements were her own, thinking they were merely showpieces arranged by the Empress to pave the way for her.
So she lacked respect.
Then what about in the world outside the dream? Why had General Shen been more respectful then? The answer came quickly—because in that world, Xie Yu had Shen Changyin's forces behind her.
Having understood, she still felt irritated. After a moment's thought, she sidestepped the topic.
"It's rare for the Jiangnan Navy to come to the capital. Why not take this opportunity to conduct joint exercises with the Imperial Guard and the Northwest Army? A bit of sparring."
General Shen also had a need to display her strength, so she readily agreed.
Seven days later, civil and military officials, nobles, and aristocrats gathered at the drill grounds.
At such an occasion, Xie Yu was already the central figure. She wore a bright crimson robe. Though she arrived late, she was unhurried, calmly ascending the viewing platform.
The Second Princess, standing among the crowd, also wore bright red that day—colliding directly with her color.
A minor official beside the Second Princess fumed. "Doesn't she know bright red is your favored color? She's doing this deliberately."
The Second Princess turned her head coldly. "She is the Crown Princess with real power. She doesn't need to know."
"If you say such foolish things again, you won't need your head."
She silently left the crowd, changed into a light pink dress, and returned.
The drill officially began.
The Northwest Army achieved an overwhelming victory.
Later, even when the Imperial Guard and the Jiangnan Navy joined forces, they could not break through the Northwest Army's defense. Instead, they were scattered in disarray.
Xie Yu watched with a faint smile throughout.
Seeing her expression, General Shen likely felt humiliated and couldn't resist saying pointedly, "The Northwest Army's quality is indeed superb. I suppose Third Highness is as astonished as I am."
The implication was clear: the Northwest Army's strength had nothing to do with you—you are merely a figurehead stealing credit.
Xie Yu smiled and stood up. "I've been waiting for you to say that."
She waved a hand, and someone promptly handed her a crossbow.
She aimed at the main flagship of the Jiangnan Navy anchored in the river in the distance. On its top deck stood the Jiangnan Navy's banner.
She narrowed her eyes, took aim, and released.
The modified crossbow was powerful and heavy, shooting forward like a bullet toward the banner. It struck the bamboo pole steadily, snapping it in two. The vivid banner slowly toppled downward before everyone's eyes.
When the bolt cut across the drill field, the sound slicing through the air had already drawn the attention of some soldiers below.
At the moment the pole fell, the Northwest soldiers all pulled small bamboo knives stained red from their robes and, with lightning speed, rushed toward the Jiangnan Navy soldiers beside them, drawing red streaks across their chests or throats.
Only then did the officials notice the commotion and cry out in alarm.
But it lasted no more than twenty breaths. The Northwest Army halted.
Two-thirds of the Jiangnan Navy soldiers bore red marks on fatal points.
Everyone understood what this meant—if real blades had been used, the Jiangnan Navy would have been annihilated.
Xie Yu lowered the crossbow and casually tossed it onto the table.
Facing General Shen, she said, "I've shown mercy."
Blunt, nearly crude: "I hope you won't mistake my courtesy for weakness."
She left.
That night, Shen Liuzhen naturally adopted a gentle approach and came knocking at her residence. But Xie Yu, well prepared, stopped her at the door.
Yet hearing her voice, Xie Yu suddenly thought of something.
She replayed in her mind, again and again, the scene in the dream world when Shen Changyin and Shen Liuzhen met.
She recalled how, on the night Shen Changyin saw the engagement jade pendant between her and Shen Liuzhen, she recognized it at a glance and said, "Do you know that the eldest daughter of the Shen family is renowned for her beauty and talent, and countless people wish to propose to her?"
The more Xie Yu thought about it, the more abnormal that attitude seemed. Remembering the striking resemblance between Shen Liuzhen and Shen Changyin, her heartbeat quickened.
Shen Changyin had never told her about her origins or upbringing. Could it be possible that she actually belonged to the Shen family of Jiangnan?
The next day, she sent out spies to subtly probe General Shen and Shen Liuzhen, asking whether they had any impression of the name Shen Changyin.
Both were evasive and completely denied it.
But Xie Yu didn't believe them. The more she thought about it, the more plausible the theory seemed.
Since General Shen was unwilling to speak, she would investigate personally.
She was going to Jiangnan.
When Jiang Fang heard the news, she strongly opposed it.
"We have so many people precisely so they can investigate intelligence across the regions. Why must you go yourself?"
Her reaction was intense. "Jiangnan is the Shen family's base—and your mother's power base too. Our influence doesn't reach there. Do you realize how dangerous it will be for you to go?"
Xie Yu said, "I'll go incognito. They won't even know I'm there."
Jiang Fang grew even more anxious. "Going incognito means limiting the number of people with you. What good can that do? Why must you go personally?"
Xie Yu looked at her quietly. "Because I'm tired of waiting in the capital."
For the past half year, she had been like a spider weaving a web, spreading her influence across the entire country while sitting in the capital, waiting for a reply to travel back along one of the silk threads.
But nothing ever came.
It was as if Shen Changyin had never existed in this world.
And as if she herself had done nothing at all.
She was tired of it.
"I have to go find her myself. Whether I can find her or not is irrelevant. I just want to go in person."
Her voice was extremely calm. Jiang Fang couldn't help but calm down as well. She took a step back and looked at Xie Yu.
After spending so long at her side, she already understood—when Xie Yu spoke with that expression and tone, the decision was unchangeable.
The Third Princess who once joked and scolded freely in Quiet Water Village, who helped them train the militia, had now become someone who inspired unconscious submission.
Jiang Fang pressed her lips together and said sincerely, "This subject will fully support Your Highness's decision."
Such is the role of a subject. She might not completely agree with the Third Princess's choice, but once the decision was made, she would support it one hundred percent.
"But please take care of your safety," she added, worried.
She saw again that sense of madness beneath Xie Yu's gentle exterior—like swelling dark clouds slowly dispersing outward.
Perhaps the Third Highness truly needed to make this trip in person to ease that state.
But she worried whether, in such a condition, Xie Yu could truly keep herself safe.
Xie Yu nodded. "I'll be fine."
So, in the spring of the following year, she told the people of the capital that she was heading to the northwest again. In truth, she traveled incognito to Jiangnan.
The day she departed was the day of the parade for the newly successful candidates of the spring imperial examinations.
The young women scholars, brimming with talent, still carried a heavy air of bookishness. Mounted on tall horses, they were surrounded by well-wishing citizens, smiling and waving.
They would eventually proceed to the riverbank, where each would personally break off a willow branch and plant it in the soil. Once the willow tree grew, it would be called the Top Scholar Willow. People would pick its leaves to steam and feed to their children, hoping their own daughters would grow clever.
By the time Xie Yu's boat reached midstream, she heard the commotion from the shore and remembered what day it was.
Suddenly she thought—if Shen Gengxu had succeeded in the examinations, she should be among that crowd today.
She hoped that in the future, Shen Gengxu would realize her ideals and ambitions.
The river looked tranquil, but it moved swiftly. In the blink of an eye, the people and trees on the bank became dense little dots.
She turned and looked southward.
At the same time, on the spring riverbank, Shen Changyin, dressed in a green robe with a red velvet flower pinned to her chest, firmly planted her willow branch into the soil. Suddenly, her heart lurched.
As if sensing something, she stood and looked around along the river.
The river stretched vast and mighty. She saw only a tiny boat like a speck, sailing toward the horizon.
—
Half a month later, Xie Yu arrived in Jiangnan.
She quickly located the Shen family's residence, and the name Shen Changyin soon stirred vague recollections in certain people.
But the process of searching for Shen Changyin remained far from smooth.
At most, these people could remember that years ago a concubine branch woman who disregarded family honor had given birth to Shen Changyin. They only remembered to criticize the child as a bastard without two mothers.
As for the rest of Shen Changyin's details, they knew nothing.
Xie Yu could only piece things together bit by bit.
At this point, she was no longer anxious.
She wanted to know Shen Changyin's past. She wanted to know what suffering the wife who seemed nearly perfect in the world outside the dream had once endured.
When she first found the dilapidated temple where Shen Changyin had lived as a child, her heart throbbed with dull pain, as if half-sliced by a blade.
Yet alongside the heartache was another feeling.
She wanted to share Shen Changyin's suffering.
Before her transmigration, social media had popularized the saying: "I don't care about your past; I want to participate fully in your future." What utter nonsense.
She wanted to know Shen Changyin's past. Her past had to belong to her as well.
She stayed in that town for a long time and gradually developed the habit of eating at a very famous steamed bun shop.
Local bun shops generally favored a slightly sweeter seasoning. This one was lighter, more suited to Xie Yu's preferred balance of savory and sweet.
The shop owner was a woman in her sixties who liked wearing very high-collared clothes. She was meticulous to an extreme—so meticulous that even such a small bun shop attracted many prefectural officials to dine there.
The first time Xie Yu ate there, she was impressed by the attentive service. Before a basket of soup dumplings were set several small dishes—local fragrant vinegar, aged vinegar from the northwest, shredded ginger, green scallions, white scallions, minced garlic, and refreshing diced cucumber—all neatly cut, each in its own dish.
There was clear tea to rinse the mouth before the meal and hot towels to wipe hands afterward.
With such service, of course the price was high.
Xie Yu could now afford it and often resolved her three daily meals there.
Gradually, she became familiar with the owner.
Until one day, when she arrived later than usual, she saw the owner begin mending her clothes after serving another table.
The stitching looked extremely familiar.
The more Xie Yu watched, the more something felt wrong. She reached out and brushed a small dish off the table.
The owner, sewing at the neighboring table, seemed to have eyes on the back of her head. She reached out and caught it firmly—but did not put it back.
"Guest, since this dish of shredded ginger has fallen, I'll replace it for you," she said with a smile, rising.
Xie Yu said, "No need for the ginger. I want to know—did you come from the palace?"
The woman's expression changed. Her hand immediately curved into a claw, striking toward her.
Xie Yu blocked it with one hand, firmly gripping her wrist, while with the other she pulled out her waist token and set it on the table before her.
The shop owner glanced at it, and her hand instantly relaxed. After Xie Yu released her, she immediately bowed. "Third Highness."
"It was my blindness that offended Your Highness."
Xie Yu shook her head. "It's fine."
The owner hesitated. "May I ask how Your Highness knew I was from the palace?"
"You're too meticulous. Just like palace people. And your stitching—it's the uniform method taught by the Bureau of Garments, isn't it? There's a little maid in my residence named Xiaowan. She was terrible at sewing. Whenever it was time to hand in her assignment, she would cry while stitching."
"You also have some martial skill. That's a requirement for personal attendants serving princesses and consorts."
She calculated the woman's age. "What I really want to know is—how are you here?"
Palace personal attendants were allowed to leave the palace upon reaching a certain age, but they were not permitted to leave the capital. Every few days they had to report their whereabouts, to prevent being exploited.
The shop owner gazed at her deeply. "Third Highness, a few days ago you gave money to those little swindlers on the street."
Xie Yu said, "You're not going to scold me for wasting money on people unworthy of it, are you? The old woman at the wonton shop on the next street already did."
"But I made it clear to them. The money was given by me—not obtained by deceit—and I restricted how it could be used."
"When the time comes, I'll think of ways to guide them onto the right path. Right now they truly lack food and clothing. Some of those little swindlers even have younger sisters to raise."
The owner said, "Third Highness, I have observed you for half a month. I never would have thought you were from the Xie family. You truly aren't like them."
She took a deep breath. "So I am willing to tell you what really happened."
She pulled open her collar. A thickened scar stretched across her throat.
"I should have been a dead woman long ago. Back then, I served your mother—our Empress—during her confinement after childbirth."
Xie Yu frowned. "You mean?"
The shop owner nodded. "Everyone who knew you were born from the Empress was silenced."
Xie Yu pondered.
In the world outside the dream, she had spoken with the Empress and told her that she should not personally bear a child.
Was that why the Empress ordered the killings?
But what the shop owner recounted next shattered that assumption.
This woman, surnamed Wu, had once been the Empress's chief maid, serving her from pregnancy through confinement.
"When you were little, you were fussy. The Empress was exhausted. It was I who carried you in circles under the willow tree late at night," she said with deep feeling.
Wu told a story completely different from what the Empress had said.
In the world outside the dream, the Empress had claimed she deeply loved Xie Yu's other mother, a farmer. Because that other mother had poor health, she chose to carry the child herself.
But Wu said that this farmer never existed. Xie Yu's other mother had been a carefully selected young Imperial Guard officer—handsome, strong, with a clean family background and long-lived elders. After making the Empress pregnant, she was secretly disposed of.
The entire purpose of the Empress's incognito journey had been to find a place to secretly give birth to Xie Yu.
Wu also said that when Xie Yu was first born, the Empress liked carrying her personally and loved her. But one day, without explanation, she forcibly ordered the palace maids to separate the infant Third Princess from herself.
After hearing everything, Xie Yu sensed only the Empress's overwhelming sense of purpose.
She had needed a child born from her own womb—but it was absolutely not for the reason of love she had claimed. As for the real reason, Wu did not know.
Later, when the Empress returned to the capital, she gathered a new group of secret guards and executed all the attendants who had served her.
Wu's throat had also been slit. But she possessed some martial skill and a strong constitution. She did not die. She lay on the ground pretending to be dead and only crawled away after the guards left.
Afterward, she opened this steamed bun shop here.
She looked at Xie Yu with tears in her eyes. "I never thought that in this lifetime I would be able to see you again."
She had lived her whole life alone—never married, never had children. The only person she could truly call close was Xie Yu, whom she had personally cared for for a period of time.
"Third Princess, please be extremely careful of Her Majesty. You must—must—be careful."
"Especially the Daoist at her side."
—
Author's Note:
Today my boss reminded me that I hadn't worked enough overtime in the first half of the year and said she'll be giving me more tasks tomorrow.
Me, who runs off exactly at six every day: Huh?
Not a big problem. I'll just keep writing like crazy.
As for the empress giving birth to Little Xie—this is a Rashomon-style situation. The empress is very good at spinning stories. That so-called honest conversation with Little Xie last time? Not honest at all.
Facing the same established facts, completely different explanations can be made.
Little Xie has grown up, hasn't she? She fully carries the empress's aura now. One step to the left and she is a wise ruler; one step to the right and she is a tyrant.
Most of Little Xie's growth has to happen while Little Shen is not by her side.
Because Little Shen treats Little Xie a bit like a hen protecting her chick. Under her protection, it's hard for Little Xie to truly grow.
—
T/N: If you're enjoying this translation, feel free to check out my Patreon. If you're unable to support financially, you can still subscribe for free and receive chapters two hours earlier, along with updates and announcements. Paid tiers offer early access and daily chapters.
Thank you so much for reading!
patreon.com/Baenz