Shen Changyin left. Xie Yu stood stunned for a long moment before she reacted.
She didn't chase after her. Instead, under the moonlight, she first went to check the carriage on the second fork at the village entrance.
The moon hung high, the grass already damp with dew. By the time she reached the carriage, the hem of her robe was wet.
She looked around and confirmed—it was indeed the same carriage they always used.
The one she'd been dragged back in the first, second, third, and fourth time.
The one she took to court every day.
The carriage looked plain enough from the outside, no jewels or gold, but the quality was exceptional.
The interior was spacious, the cabinets were made of high-grade rosewood. No wonder it won the favor of Shen Changyin, who lived by the motto "the finer the better."
She actually gave this to her?
Xie Yu climbed on and checked. Sure enough—plenty of silver, dry food, clean clothes, a forged travel pass, even a map.
When Shen Changyin wasn't your enemy, she was incredibly considerate.
Xie Yu sat in the driver's seat, leaned against the carriage, stared up at the moon, and thought carefully.
Why would Shen Changyin suddenly let her go?
She thought through all possible angles and still couldn't understand.
Finally she chalked it up to:
Village life truly purifies a person's soul.
Even Shen Changyin grew a conscience.
Which meant—before Shen Changyin returned to the capital and got re-corrupted into that ruthless power minister—before she changed her mind—Xie Yu had to run.
Her leaving would make Shen Changyin's position harder, having to face the capital's turbulence alone and losing the excuse of "protecting the Third Princess."
She shrugged.
No problem. You had to believe in the ability of such a big villain.
Without a drop of hesitation, Xie Yu grabbed the reins, shouted "Hyah!", and rode off without looking back.
The later it got, the lighter the night seemed. Eventually, dawn began to glow.
Shen Changyin's new carriage stopped at the palace gates. Before she even stepped out, she heard her subordinates outside:
"The Empress has brought all civil and military officials and several princesses to welcome you back."
"Understood." Shen Changyin straightened her robe.
She took a bit longer than expected to exit, and the officials began to whisper.
The Guo family, previously crushed by Shen Changyin and now reduced to a few low-ranking officials, were present with their superiors. They whispered that the Regent must be haggard after suffering for half a month.
Rumors had even spread that Shen Changyin's face had been slashed and ruined.
Everyone believed she must have suffered terribly—after all, she was known for being fragile.
The Court Historian was already scribbling in her notes:
"The Regent Shen remains in the carriage and delays meeting the Empress."
Then a pale, slender hand lifted the carriage curtain.
Shen Changyin stepped down gracefully.
Her silver-white gown was spotless, her posture elegant and calm, her entire body unharmed.
Her famously cool and beautiful face was flawless—if anything, her composed aura gave her even more radiance.
Like seeing the moon at midday.
Silence fell instantly.
No one had expected that after such an ordeal, she would not be withered at all—but instead retain her usual grace and poise.
And because everyone knew she had just survived life and death, their gaze toward her shifted—she no longer resembled those pampered noblewomen, but something steadier, stronger. More worthy of respect.
The Empress and the other princesses did not show such dramatic reactions; they simply watched quietly.
Shen Changyin approached them and gave a shallow bow.
"Your Majesty."
The Empress returned the courtesy.
"Beloved Minister Shen."
Then she looked behind Shen Changyin.
When no second person came out of the carriage, her expression changed.
"Where is my Third?"
The other princesses all turned their eyes toward Shen Changyin.
The question reminded the officials.
Yes—didn't the Regent and the Third Princess encounter danger together? Why was the Regent back alone?
"Her Highness was gravely frightened and suffered two knife wounds at her waist and abdomen. Long travel would be dangerous. She remained in Chengzhou to recover."
Shen Changyin explained calmly.
The officials accepted the explanation.
Only the Empress of the Xie family and the princesses stared at her with unreadable expressions.
After a long moment, the Empress laughed loudly and clapped Shen Changyin on the shoulder—as if accepting her explanation.
But then, in a voice only those closest could hear, she said:
"Shen Changyin, you're a clever woman. When you negotiated with me and insisted on marrying a princess, you obviously had your reasons."
"If the Third Princess doesn't return, you won't find another princess to marry. You know very well what the consequences will be."
Shen Changyin's expression was as calm as still water. "There is no need for Your Majesty to worry about my affairs."
"It had better be that way. And honestly, I don't care about you. She needs rest, doesn't she? Two knife wounds… after six or seven days she should be well enough to travel back to the capital."
The Empress stood one step above her, wearing a bright yellow court robe, her coronet casting a shadow downward that made her look both dignified and intimidating.
"In seven days, you had better truly bring my daughter back."
She flicked her sleeve and turned away, followed by a grand procession of attendants and officials.
Shen Changyin remained where she stood, pressing her hands briefly to her forehead in a gesture of farewell, her face expressionless.
Once the Empress was gone, she returned to her manor.
The signboard over the gate still bore the bright, newly painted characters "Princess Jin's Manor."
She glanced at it and walked inside without pause.
Although she had been gone, the attendants had kept the manor immaculate. Everything was orderly, yet the place felt slightly empty.
She had only taken a few steps when she heard hurried footsteps. A small child and a dog were running toward the entrance.
Upon seeing Shen Changyin, both little Wan and little Flower skidded to a stop. Little Wan saluted and immediately looked behind her.
"Master Shen, where is the Third Princess?"
Shen Changyin couldn't be bothered to fabricate excuses for them. She simply walked forward. "When Old Jin and the others return, tell them to meet me in the rear courtyard."
She rushed back to her residence. Her maids were already waiting, surrounding her the moment she stepped through the door.
"My lady returned this morning. Since you suffered an assassination attempt, it is best to cleanse yourself of ill fortune—burning mugwort, stepping over a fire basin."
They had already consulted a respected Taoist priest and prepared the entire ritual. All Shen Changyin needed to do was walk forward; everything else would be arranged around her.
After stepping over the fire and burning the mugwort, she returned indoors. The bath was ready—hot water infused with herbs in a tub carved from huanghuali wood, soft white towels warmed over a small incense stove folded neatly at the side.
After bathing, she put on new clothes sewn from fresh tribute fabrics from Jiangnan. Light, warm, and luxurious—two layers were enough, unlike the common fabrics that required three or four to ward off the spring chill.
Sitting at her table, one maid dried her hair to half-damp in the way she preferred, while another lit incense in the corner.
"This qinan incense has a soft, sweet fragrance. It was specially sent by Minister Zhang of the Northwest. Even the current Empress has little of it."
The delicate smoke curled through the room. Servants brought two bowls and four small dishes—beautiful, refined food that stirred the appetite. One bowl was fragrant rice, the other a thick, golden seafood soup with fish maw.
There was even early-spring tea, rare and costly in the north, rushed here from Jiangnan and brewed with the best local spring water.
Shen Changyin picked up her chopsticks and instinctively called:
"Xie Yu, come eat."
The room instantly fell silent. The maids froze with worry.
Shen Changyin looked at the elegant dishes before her. This was the life she had chosen—yet she thought of Xie Yu at this moment.
After a pause, she smiled.
She didn't look lonely as her maids feared. Instead she said,
"It's her misfortune… missing out on all this."
The maids, who all knew how much Xie Yu loved food, relaxed and agreed lightly before leaving her alone to eat.
The room felt oppressively quiet. Shen Changyin lowered her gaze and ate each bite with deliberate care.
That night, insomnia—something she hadn't experienced in a long time—returned like an unwelcome dream.
Outside, night rain fell.
A good omen, perhaps. Spring rain was precious, and it would help the military farms.
Yet Shen Changyin remembered that night in the village when rain had fallen until morning.
Two women had slept in, lulled by the endless patter, neither wanting to leave the warmth of bed. There had been warm water and milk pastries in the house; they split them before returning to their beds.
Chill soaked the air alongside the rain, so Xie Yu lit the stove and slowly toasted wheat cakes over it.
They spent the whole day indoors, watching the misty world through the window.
Shen Changyin blinked slowly, ending the memory. She opened her window, then returned to bed, lying still without closing her eyes, watching the rain just as she had that day.
But the capital's rain was different—expensive, silent, lonely, cold.
The next morning, Old Jin returned with her people. Busy with securing the village and sorting evidence, she still didn't know Xie Yu had left.
In the tent she asked, puzzled, "Is the Third Princess not attending today's meeting?"
Shen Changyin walked past her. "She won't be coming."
"Even without her, the days will go on."
"Report."
The death-soldier village was far more complicated than expected. Old Li and the others wouldn't talk, and the few villagers who knew of death soldiers knew little.
Most villagers truly knew nothing and were confused and frightened.
The village chief's wife refused to believe her partner's "outside work" was training death soldiers.
Shen Changyin let her subordinates debate freely. Many had valid points.
Just as the discussion neared its end, the tent flap lifted. Zhu Ting stood at the entrance holding a letter.
"My lady, this morning a little beggar came to deliver this. It should be from the Third Princess."
Shen Changyin stood, then slowly sat again. "Bring it here."
She opened the letter. The wording was concise, yet it addressed many things—organized by category, each broken into subpoints.
The first part entrusted her with all the people and matters Xie Yu cared about: the little beggar, little flower the dog, even Zhu Ting. She wrote that she still had money left in the manor and asked Shen Changyin to use it—books for those who needed books, meat for those who needed meat.
The second part said she had left some notes in her room and asked Shen Changyin to keep them safe until someone came to retrieve them.
The third part concerned the death-soldier village, written with meticulous care:
For ordinary villagers, do not use torture—it will yield nothing.
For retired death soldiers like Old Li, torture is possible but won't be effective; better to use the emotional tactics their former masters used.
For the large group of current death soldiers, once control is secured, incorporate them into a special military unit. They are, in a sense, criminals, so they cannot be treated like freeborn soldiers. Their movements and finances must be restricted.
But by then, ordinary villagers can be released—registered, visited periodically.
This would maintain the balance between villagers and death soldiers while keeping costs low and efficiency high, with humane considerations.
Her notes were so thorough that Shen Changyin shared them with her subordinates and received unanimous approval.
Once they left, she turned the page over, checking the back.
Empty.
Xie Yu cared only about these matters. Nothing more.
Shen Changyin pressed the paper flat on the table.
When Shen Changyin attended court on the third day back in the capital, the evidence increasingly pointed toward the faction of the Fifth Princess.
Naturally the Fifth Princess denied it, and her maternal family—the Chancellor's faction—supported her fiercely. They argued loudly with Shen Changyin's faction, with other factions opportunistically piling on.
The empress, aside from asking at the start whether the Third Princess still hadn't returned, said nothing more. She rested her chin on her hand, looking down at the crowd of bickering officials.
Shen Changyin looked from the throne to the hall below. She saw every expression—clownish posturing, anxious panic, anger from those whose guilt had been guessed.
This was the capital.
These were the highest-ranking women here.
This was the Hall of Diligent Governance, not the countryside.
The hall held no wind. Its high ceiling and immense power could not hide its suffocating atmosphere.
Shen Changyin thought again of Xie Yu's letter—and she actually smiled.
She regretted it.
Why should Xie Yu get to live such a simple, happy life?
She would drag her back.
She would give her the best food, clothing, home, and jewels. The highest status.
And in return, Xie Yu would face this indescribable group of people with her.
If the capital rotted people's hearts, then the two of them should rot together.
—
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