On the way back, neither Shen Xin nor Luo Xueyan spoke much. Though they tried their best to appear relaxed, an air of solemnity still lingered. Shen Qiu was also unusually quiet. Though Luo Tan was typically carefree, she keenly sensed something amiss and cautiously remained silent.
Today, they had ultimately offended Ming An Princess, which also meant offending the Crown Prince of Qin. The Shen family had just returned to the capital and was already thrust into the spotlight. Despite Shen Xin's efforts to avoid it, it was as if an invisible hand behind the scenes was determined to push the Shen family forward. Shen Xin and Luo Xueyan weren’t afraid of potential troubles, but since Shen Miao had been the one to step forward today, their greatest concern was that Ming An Princess would bear a grudge against Shen Miao and scheme against her in the shadows.
But what was done was done. They could only meet challenges as they came and ensure Shen Miao was well-protected to prevent any mishaps.
By the time they returned to the residence, it was already quite late. Shen Miao entered her courtyard and freshened up before lighting an oil lamp. Seeing that she had no intention of resting, Gu Yu asked, "Miss, are you still worried about tonight’s events? Don’t be. With Master and Madam here, that Qin princess won’t dare act recklessly."
Shen Miao shook her head. She understood Ming An Princess’s temperament better than anyone else. Ming An Princess was selfish and fiercely competitive. In the previous life’s tribute banquet, Ming An Princess had also given her a hard time, simply because she looked down on Fu Xiuyi—such an outstanding man—marrying someone as coarse as Shen Miao. Now, with Prince Rui replacing the Great Liang envoy, Ming An Princess’s admiration had shifted to him, yet she still hadn’t spared Shen Miao. Perhaps this was what people called fate—some grudges were destined, no matter how many lifetimes passed.
"You may leave," Shen Miao said. "I can’t sleep. I’ll play a game of chess."
Gu Yu wanted to say more, but Jing Zhe tugged at her sleeve. Jing Zhe said, "Then we’ll take our leave. Miss, don’t dwell on things too much. Rest early if you feel tired, and don’t overexert yourself. The night is chilly, so don’t stay up too late."
Shen Miao acknowledged them, and Jing Zhe and Gu Yu withdrew.
On the small table before her, the chessboard lay empty. Shen Miao picked up a white piece in one hand and a black piece in the other, playing against herself with great focus.
She played intently, and as time passed, the initially simple board grew increasingly complex. What had started as effortless moves now required deep contemplation for each placement.
Outside the courtyard, all was silent—no birdsong, no insect chirps. The Fixed Capital was deep in slumber, with only the rustling of the breeze in the courtyard.
Shen Miao studied the board and exhaled softly.
Two years had passed. All the major players had taken their turns, and the pieces she had placed had moved into position. Yet, in some ways, having the upper hand didn’t guarantee continuous victory. This was a game between her and Fu Xiuyi, but now it seemed she had underestimated certain things.
Everything in this world was changing. She had changed—she was no longer the person from her past life—and naturally, others had changed too. The only constant was change itself. And the consequences of these changes, how they would affect the game, were impossible to predict.
She glanced at the chessboard, then stood and walked to the window, pushing it open. A crisp autumn breeze rushed in, carrying a chill. The shadows of the trees swayed outside. After watching for a while, she turned back—just as the oil lamp burned its last drop of oil, the flame flickered and died.
With the light extinguished, moonlight streamed into the room like flowing water, casting everything in a silvery glow. It was cooler than lamplight, yet brighter.
A soft tap sounded from the table. Before the chessboard, a figure had appeared out of nowhere. He held a black piece, placing it casually on the board before lifting his gaze to Shen Miao.
His purple-gold robes shimmered magnificently under the moonlight, the intricate patterns faintly familiar. Though his posture was undeniably arrogant, the lower half of his face was obscured by a silver mask, lending him an air of mystery.
Shen Miao wasn’t the least bit surprised by this uninvited midnight guest. Without changing her expression, she closed the window, plunging the room back into darkness. She walked to the table, fumbled for a fire tinder, and lit another lamp.
Under the warm yellow glow, even the faintest rustle of fabric seemed intimate. Holding the lamp, Shen Miao sat down across from him.
"Were you waiting for me?" The purple-robed youth’s voice was low, pleasant in the quiet night, deliberately husky—like a lover’s whisper. His tone was amused, as though he found the situation delightful.
Shen Miao studied the mask on his face. Even concealed, his beauty was undeniable—his elegant jawline, his red lips—only made more alluring by the mystery. Rumors said the Great Liang imperial family was full of stunning individuals. She had never seen Prince Rui’s true face, but she knew that in terms of presence alone, this man was exceptional.
"Your Highness knocked three times on the pillar—wasn’t that a signal for me to meet you at the third watch? This humble subject wouldn’t dare disobey," she replied.
At her words, she saw the corner of his lips curl up. "So clever," he said.
His attitude was flirtatious, even teasing, yet there was an undeniable distance—as though one could sense the coldness and cruelty beneath. Shen Miao watched him calmly. "What does Your Highness wish to discuss?"
The purple-robed youth idly picked up a black piece from the basket, his long, pale fingers contrasting starkly against the dark stone. He glanced at the board. "An interesting game. Little girl, you’ve gathered the world’s storms onto this board. Tell me—where is Great Liang? And which piece am I?"
With a single glance, he had discerned that the chessboard mirrored the current political landscape of Ming Qi.
Shen Miao remained silent.
His voice was lazy, almost indifferent. "Today at the tribute banquet, it seemed as though you and Ming An Princess were old acquaintances. Have you met her before?"
Shen Miao’s heart tightened. Of course, she knew Ming An Princess. Aside from Huangfu Hao, no one else would suspect anything amiss about her behavior tonight. A Qin princess and a Ming Qi official’s daughter—Qin and Ming Qi were thousands of miles apart, and this was Ming An Princess’s first visit to Ming Qi. No one would ever connect her to Ming An Princess. Yet this man’s words had ruthlessly torn through the surface, exposing the truth.
What had he discovered? What had he investigated? Or had he simply sensed something off from their brief interactions at the banquet? If it was the latter, then this man was truly terrifying.
But her expression didn’t change. Her fingers tightened slightly in her sleeves, yet she managed a faint smile. "Unfortunately, this humble subject has never met Ming An Princess. But I am an old acquaintance of Prince Rui."
The purple-robed youth tilted his head, then suddenly leaned forward, bracing his hands on the table, bringing his face close to hers. His breath was warm, but the golden buttons on his robes were cold. His lips curved in a smile, but his eyes were indifferent. "Oh? When was that?"
Shen Miao stared at the man before her—so close she could count his eyelashes. He was like fire and ice, dangerously alluring, yet her instincts screamed at her to retreat.
His dark, fathomless eyes bore into her. She lowered her gaze, avoiding his meaningful look, and focused on the intricate buttons of his robe. Softly, she said, "Long time no see, Xie Jingxing."
For a moment, the air seemed to freeze. The oil lamp crackled softly, a small ember flaring before vanishing into the night.
Shen Miao lifted her eyes to meet his.
The purple-robed youth smiled faintly, watching her. Their shadows stretched across the floor, entwined—as though he were tilting his head to kiss her.
Slowly, he withdrew, settling back into his seat. His voice was still light with amusement. "Long time no see, Shen Miao."
Then, he reached up and removed his mask.
His eyebrows were sharp as swords, his starry eyes brimming with charm. His nose was straight, his lips red as rouge. If two years ago he had been a striking youth, now he was a man of breathtaking handsomeness. The smirk on his lips carried the same mockery and mischief as before, but the arrogance of youth had vanished from his eyes.
In its place was something deeper, more unsettling—like a night sky beautiful for its stars, yet terrifying for its darkness. The noble elegance about him had reached its peak after two years, every movement exuding the innate pride of royalty. He was as cool and distant as the moon, yet as dazzling as the sun.
Freed from the constraints of his former identity, Xie Jingxing—no longer hiding his brilliance—was impossible to ignore.
He studied her with that half-smile, his tone teasing. "After two years apart, who gave you the courage to call me by name?"
Despite his words, he had dropped the royal "this prince" for "I."
Shen Miao replied, "Now that you’re no longer the young marquis of Lin'an Hou Manor in Ming Qi, if you dislike me using your name, I can always call you Prince Rui." Her words carried a hint of sarcasm. From the young marquis of Lin'an Hou Manor to the younger brother of Great Liang’s Yongle Emperor—Xie Jingxing had certainly taken an unexpected turn.
But Shen Miao’s politeness had underestimated Xie Jingxing. He chuckled lazily. "Call me whatever you like—I don’t mind. But I should tell you, Xie Yuan is my real name. Jingxing is my courtesy name. Calling me Xie Jingxing is like using my intimate name… My, how bold you’ve grown." His smirk turned wicked. "Have we reached the point where we’re using intimate names?"
Shen Miao glared at him.
Only family, lovers, or spouses used intimate names. Shen Miao hadn’t expected that with his new identity, "Jingxing" would become his courtesy name. Only now did it occur to her—Great Liang’s Yongle Emperor was also surnamed Xie. The Liang imperial family was the Xie clan.
What a coincidence.
Xie Jingxing poured himself tea without invitation. Two years had passed—Shen Xin had even moved the family out of the general’s manor to a new residence—yet Xie Jingxing still acted as though he owned the place, coming and going as he pleased. He took a sip, glancing at Shen Miao’s barely suppressed anger, clearly amused. "Since we’re exchanging pleasantries, what should I call you? Jiaojiao?"
The way he said "Jiaojiao" was enough to make one’s heart flutter. Combined with his striking looks, any ordinary girl would have been utterly charmed. Shen Miao felt her face heat up. She thought—even without his royal status, Xie Jingxing could have thrived as a courtesan, perhaps even becoming legendary.
"What are you thinking?" Xie Jingxing asked.
"I was thinking how stunning you are—even the top courtesans couldn’t compare. No wonder you wear a mask to hide your face," Shen Miao retorted, deliberately provoking him.
Xie Jingxing choked, his lazy demeanor faltering for a split second. Shen Miao felt a surge of satisfaction. Before she could speak, however, Xie Jingxing raised an eyebrow. "So concerned about me? It seems you’re quite taken with me."
Shen Miao said coolly, "Does Prince Rui know how to write the phrase ‘wishful thinking’?" Annoyed by his "intimate name" remark and unable to call him "Young Marquis Xie" anymore, she resorted to the icy "Prince Rui," clearly drawing a line between them.
"You weren’t so cold when you kissed me that time," he said.
Shen Miao’s eyes widened in disbelief. The look on her face was like a young deer’s—innocent, round-eyed, and utterly pitiable.
"What do you mean?" she demanded.
Xie Jingxing reached out and pinched her cheek. He moved too quickly for her to dodge, withdrawing just as fast. After a moment’s thought, he said, "Seems you don’t remember. On the first night after you left the capital, I came to bid you farewell."
Shen Miao stared at him blankly.
Xie Jingxing sighed. "As expected—drunk and forgetful. Do you recall what you did to me?"
Shen Miao’s expression twisted with conflict.
They said alcohol led to reckless behavior. Her tolerance wasn’t bad, but that night’s plum wine had been particularly strong. To avoid saying or doing anything suspicious, she had deliberately secluded herself in a separate room. Yet… Xie Jingxing had come?
"Prince Rui must be joking. Our acquaintance is fleeting—what could I have done?" Shen Miao suppressed her unease, maintaining a calm facade. But when it came to matters between men and women, she was woefully inexperienced. In her past life, she had only ever tried to please Fu Xiuyi, never truly understanding men’s thoughts. In this regard, she was as naive as a blank sheet of paper. And facing someone as cunning as Xie Jingxing, she was hopelessly outmatched.
Xie Jingxing smiled, in no hurry to argue. He spoke leisurely, "You seemed very eager to become empress. Drunk, you dragged Eunuch Li to watch fireworks and demanded the crown prince and princess accompany you." He watched her with interest. "Empress Shen?"
Shen Miao, who had been sipping tea to maintain her composure, nearly choked.
It had been years since she’d heard that title. For a moment, she wondered if this life—so vibrant, with her loved ones alive—was just a beautiful dream. That she would wake up back in that cold palace, step by step marching toward the loss of her child and family.
Her entire body stiffened, but she had to face the truth. She had thought Xie Jingxing was bluffing, but now it seemed he really had been there that night and witnessed her drunken state. Otherwise, how could he know these details? Unless… just how much had she said? How much had he heard? And how much had his sharp mind pieced together?
Her unease didn’t escape Xie Jingxing’s notice. His eyes darkened, but his lips curved. "No need to be so afraid. I’ve always been lenient with women. Do you want to know what you did to me?"
"What did I do?" Shen Miao met his gaze steadily.
"Nothing much," Xie Jingxing said lazily, propping his chin on his hand as though reminiscing. His next words, however, were shocking. "You just clung to me, refusing to let me leave. Pinned me down and kissed me. Cried and begged to be my empress, pleading with me not to neglect you."
Shen Miao: "…"
"I did no such thing," she said flatly. No matter how drunk she was, she would never harbor such thoughts about Xie Jingxing. And such behavior was entirely unlike her.
"Denying it?" Xie Jingxing frowned. "That’s not very honorable, Shen Jiaojiao."
"I’ll compensate you," Shen Miao said decisively. "Name your price."
Xie Jingxing stared at her for a long moment. For some reason, his gaze felt like knives, as though he wanted to strangle her. Finally, he smiled—a sharp, teeth-baring grin. "Do you take me for a courtesan or a kept man? Money? This prince has never lacked for money."
Shen Miao fell silent.
Xie Jingxing took a deep breath. "How did you figure it out?"
Caught off guard by the sudden shift, Shen Miao blinked. "What?"
Xie Jingxing picked up the mask from the table. "How did you discover my identity? Two years ago, I ‘died in battle.’ No matter how you look at it, recognizing me at first sight doesn’t make sense."
"I suspected before I even saw you," Shen Miao admitted. "I guessed you were from Great Liang, though I didn’t expect you to be royalty. At the tribute banquet, seeing you felt familiar, so I took a chance."
Xie Jingxing’s brows drew together. "You suspected two years ago?"
"That night at Crouching Dragon Temple, when Young Marquis Xie came for tea and snacks," Shen Miao said calmly, "you happened to share some with me."
Xie Jingxing raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"Unfortunately," Shen Miao said, "those snacks seemed to be made by a Great Liang imperial chef. They were quite distinctive."
Xie Jingxing paused.
Two years ago, at Crouching Dragon Temple, he had stumbled upon Shen Miao framing Shen Qing and Prince Yu. Intrigued, he had followed her back to her room. Hungry after the night’s events, he had helped himself to her tea and snacks… and even fed her a piece. Accustomed to luxury even while working in Ming Qi, he had brought along a Great Liang imperial chef, and those snacks had been the chef’s handiwork.
Xie Jingxing had considered many ways Shen Miao might have uncovered his identity, but never this. A simple snack had given him away. Yet… His gaze sharpened. "How did you know it was made by a Great Liang chef?"
"I happened to have tasted it once before," Shen Miao said.
She truly had. At Ming Qi’s tribute banquet, gifts from other nations were presented. The snacks had been a minor novelty—Great Liang’s Yongle Emperor loved pastries, and the imperial chefs had creatively infused them with fruit juices, giving them a unique fragrance. Shen Miao had found them delightful and had even made some for Fu Xiuyi, though he disliked sweets and always gave them away, much to her dismay.
The snacks Xie Jingxing had eaten that night carried the same fruity aroma—something impossible before the tribute exchange. At the time, Shen Miao had found it odd.
Though Xie Jingxing didn’t press further, he asked, "Just that?"
"A lucky guess," Shen Miao murmured. But it hadn’t just been the snacks. The real clue had been Imperial Physician Gao—Gao Yang. She had found him familiar and later realized she had seen him before. In her past life’s tribute banquet, Great Liang’s envoy had included a prince and a high-ranking minister. That minister, whom Fu Xiuying had instructed Pei Lang to watch closely, was none other than Gao Yang. Back then, Gao Yang hadn’t been a physician but a Great Liang official. Seeing Xie Jingxing’s subtle familiarity with Gao Yang in Ming Qi’s palace, combined with the snacks, had led her to connect the dots.
Later, when news of Xie Jingxing’s death in battle reached her in the northwest, her initial shock had given way to skepticism. In her past life, Xie Jingxing shouldn’t have been on that campaign at that time. Yet in both lives, he had met the same end. Shen Miao didn’t believe in fate—especially not for someone as formidable as Xie Jingxing. That he could die so miserably was unthinkable.
If he had used this as a step in some greater scheme, however, she could believe that. "Dying" to shed his old identity and start anew, free of past entanglements, fit Xie Jingxing’s decisive nature. After all, the title of young marquis of Lin'an Hou Manor could never contain his ambitions.
Just what were those ambitions? Shen Miao’s gaze fell on the black-and-white chessboard, a flicker of dread passing through her.
"Your luck has always been good," Xie Jingxing remarked, watching her with amusement.
"But…" Shen Miao hesitated before finally asking, "How did you become Prince Rui?"
Xie Jingxing had fabricated a false identity? If so, his audacity was truly staggering—impersonating none other than a member of Great Coolness's imperial family, the Yongle Emperor's own younger brother. If discovered, death a thousand times over wouldn’t suffice as punishment. Yet if it were true… then what of his identity for the past decade or more? Why had he become Xie Ding’s son in Ming Qi?
"I was always Prince Rui of Great Coolness," Xie Jingxing said. "Now, I’ve reclaimed what is rightfully mine."
Shen Miao’s heart stirred. "Marquis Xie isn’t your father?"
Xie Jingxing smirked disdainfully. "Lin'an Hou? What right does he have to call himself my father?"
So Xie Jingxing was not Xie Ding’s biological son. Shen Miao felt increasingly unsettled. His identity likely concealed many secrets—secrets she had never noticed in her past life. Suddenly, it struck her: Fu Xiuyi had spared no effort to suppress Xie Jingxing in her previous life, even planting his own men within the Xie Family Army, ultimately ensuring Xie Jingxing died at the hands of his own. The Xie father and son both met their end wrapped in horse hide, leaving no descendants behind except Xie Changwu and Xie Changchao. Had the Fu Family truly sought to curb the Xie family’s overwhelming influence, or had Fu Xiuyi already uncovered the truth of Xie Jingxing’s identity? Had Fu Xiuyi wanted… to eradicate the root of the problem?
Her expression flickered with these thoughts, and Xie Jingxing watched her intently, his gaze profound, his smile growing ever more enchanting. His features had matured, blending handsomeness and allure into a mesmerizing balance between righteousness and roguish charm. He tapped the table lightly. "Meeting an old friend today—you’ve grown quite a bit."
Shen Miao snapped out of her reverie and met his eyes. "Prince Rui is now basking in boundless glory."
From the young Marquis of Lin'an Manor to Prince Rui, Xie Jingxing had only grown more illustrious. Once, he had merely swaggered through Fixed Capital and Ming Qi, but now, with the title of Prince Rui, he might as well ascend to the heavens.
"Are you pleased?" Xie Jingxing’s lips curved teasingly. "Do you feel honored?"
Shen Miao maintained her dignified composure. "This subject is a citizen of Ming Qi, and Prince Rui is of Great Coolness. Our paths do not cross—how could I feel honored?"
Xie Jingxing picked up the mask on the table and fastened it back onto his face. The silver mask fit his features flawlessly, not concealing his brilliance but instead enhancing his mystique, making him all the more captivating.
"That’s not what you said when you kissed me," he murmured, his gaze more mesmerizing than the autumn moon outside, sweeping over her. "Didn’t you say I was yours?"
Shen Miao refused to admit it. "Prince Rui must be misremembering."
"I’ll help you recall later." Xie Jingxing stood, the hem of his purple robe brushing the table and scattering the chessboard.
"Next time I visit you… Shen Jiaojiao," he said.
Shen Miao: "…"
Xie Jingxing vanished through the window. Watching his retreating figure, Shen Miao resolved to have Shen Qiu station more guards at the courtyard gates tomorrow. After all, this residence housed many skilled warriors—Shen Xin, Luo Xueyan, and Shen Qiu had all served in the army. How could they lack even the slightest vigilance? Allowing someone to come and go freely was nothing short of a joke.
Outside the window, on the street beside the Shen family’s walls, a man in purple robes walked. In the dead of night, the street was deserted, leaving only this man and his attendant, their elongated shadows swaying under the moonlight.The moonlight couldn't conceal his radiance, and even the silver mask gleamed brilliantly. The guard behind him remarked, "Master seems to be in good spirits."
He had said he was meeting an old acquaintance, yet from the moment he entered the Shen residence until his departure, his lips remained curved in a smile. No one knew what joyous news he had heard to be so delighted.
The young man glanced at the guard, the gold thread on his sleeves faintly shimmering. Even in the dark of night, his splendid attire exuded an air of elegance and charm. His eyes held a teasing glint, and his voice was as pleasant and captivating as a spring breeze.
"Meeting an interesting person naturally puts one in good spirits."
－－－－－－Author's Note－－－－－－
Don't you think Brother Xie has become even more handsome?
...
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