Chapter 87

She instinctively raised her hand to touch the back of her neck; the same spot, here too there was a mole.

But she knew well that this had appeared only after her rebirth.

And what about Pei Zhi?

Is he the same?

How could there be such a coincidence in the world?

In her daze, Pei Zhi had already picked up the book, carefully brushed off the dust on the cover, and handed the book to her.

Seeing her still in a dazed state, her gaze somewhat unfocused, Pei Zhi spoke gently with a smile: 'Still not awake?'

Shen Shuangning then came to her senses, hastily reaching with both hands to borrow the book from his hand, looking embarrassed: 'It was the student's lapse; I blame my rashness; please forgive me, Junior Tutor.'

She lowered her eyes, her crow‑feather‑like long lashes covering the stormy waves in the depths of her eyes.

'It's fine. Didn't you rest well last night?' Pei Zhi remained in his usual mild manner, his tone holding no hint of blame.

Shen Shuangning said somewhat awkwardly: 'Yes.'

Pei Zhi then asked: 'Are you clear-headed now?'

Shen Shuangning nodded, then shook her head, lowering her eyelids and speaking softly: 'The student was just rude; perhaps I should first go outside to stand and reflect.'

Even though their private relationship was deep, in this class she did not want others to notice anything unusual. Pei Zhi's lack of complaint showed his magnanimity, yet she could not comfortably accept this indulgence.

Furthermore, because of that previous incident, Shen Shuangning now guards herself against men to some degree.

Pei Zhi did not stop her, watching her leave.

Jingyu ordered the palace attendants outside to come in, gather the scattered brushes, ink, paper and inkstone, and the overturned desks and chairs, putting everything back in order.

Shen Shuangning held that book, silently walking to the corridor outside the Shu Zhai, she stood with her back to the door, counting it as facing the wall to reflect.

Not long after, the Shu Zhai once again echoed with Pei Zhi's warm, smooth, and peaceful lecture voice, the words clear as usual.

The spring breeze brushed past with warmth, yet it could not dispel the turmoil in her heart.

Jingyu indeed kept her word; upon arriving at the training ground, Shen Shuangning at a glance saw that the person waiting in the field was not Xiao Jingyuan, but a strange middle‑aged man.

This person was tall and mighty, broad‑shouldered and wide‑backed; standing there he was as steady as an iron tower.

On his chin grew neatly trimmed short whiskers; he wore only a plain‑colored martial outfit, lacking ornate adornment, yet he possessed a stern, heroic aura.

'I am Zhang Zhong, Commander of the Capital Garrison; I have greeted the Princess and the Fourth Miss.' The man's voice rang like a great bell as he clasped his hands and bowed, his movements crisp and decisive.

Zhang Zhong?

Shen Shuangning's heart stirred slightly; this name sounded somewhat familiar.

She furrowed her brows, her mind quickly searching for something.

In the next instant, a dust‑sealed fragment suddenly became clear.

In her previous life, the Prince Rui's most capable left and right hand—wasn't this Zhang Zhong?

Back then he held the post of Deputy Commander of the Imperial Guards; just as Emperor Xuwen lay gravely ill, his consciousness muddled, he was actually deceived by villains and issued an edict to detain the Crown Prince.

It was this Zhang Zhong who, upon receiving the edict, without hesitation personally donned armor and led troops, surrounding the Eastern Palace so tightly that not even a bird could fly in or out.

At that time, hearts inside and outside the Eastern Palace trembled with fear; the Crown Prince was under house arrest in his chambers, and the guards loyal to him who several times tried to rush in to protect their lord were all cut down on the spot by this Zhang Zhong.

Shen Shuangning still remembers to this day.

That day the Empress suddenly summoned her; she entered the palace by imperial order, and while passing the Eastern Palace she saw Zhang Zhong standing before its gate.

A few of the Crown Prince's personal guards, unwilling to see their lord imprisoned, tried to break through the line and rush in; Zhang Zhong did not even furrow his brow, merely coldly uttering two words: 'Execute them.'

Before his words had finished, the blade's flash already rose.

She personally watched those guards collapse in pools of blood, their heads rolling onto the stone slabs, eyes still wide open, blood spattering everywhere, even the stone lions before the palace gates turned red.

That scene was too horrific; afterward she was frightened to the point of being unable to sleep for three days and three nights.

After that as well, rumors began to whisper quietly in Jingcheng—that Prince Rui might be plotting rebellion.

Now looking again at this Zhang Zhong who bowed respectfully before Jingyu, appearing deferential, Shen Shuangning only felt a chill run down her back.

On the contrary, Jingyu was extremely fond of General Zhang's lessons, her whole self much more relaxed.

Zhang Zhong taught archery.

Shen Shuangning held the bow; perhaps her mind was unsettled, her performance far below her usual standard, yet Zhang Zhong showed no contempt or dissatisfaction.

Zhang Zhong was a man of few words; aside from explaining the essentials of archery and correcting movements when necessary, he would not utter another syllable, nor would he chat idly with them.

When the class ended, he simply bade farewell, departing cleanly without a trace of delay.

But Shen Shuangning did not know that after leaving the training ground, Zhang Zhong took a detour to the side hall beside the Shu Zhai to meet Pei Zhi.

This place was specially reserved for the Junior Tutor's rest; outside there was only a eunuch in attendance.

'How did the Fourth Miss react to seeing you?' Pei Zhi, seated by the window brewing tea, spoke softly.

Zhang Zhong stood respectfully to one side, hearing this he answered honestly: 'Reporting to Sir, the Fourth Miss seems rather wary of me, and also somewhat... fearful.'

In Zhang Zhong's tone there was a hint of bewildered incomprehension; he considered his appearance not ferocious, his temperament mild, and toward Shen Shuangning he was especially respectful and courteous.

Who knows why Miss Shen Shuangning fears him so?

Pei Zhi held his teacup; hearing this, he felt no surprise, merely gesturing with his hand for him to withdraw.

Zhang Zhong then withdrew.

Indoors returned to silence; the incense burner at the corner of the desk sent up a wisp of blue smoke.

Pei Zhi gazed out the window; drifting clouds drifted across the azure horizon, resembling exactly those fragments of time crushed by the vortex of power in his previous life.

The world only knows that Prince Rui treats the worthy with courtesy and employs capable people; they do not know that behind Prince Rui there is also another strategist.

Prince Rui reveres him as a heavenly being, never addressing him by name, only respectfully calling him 'Teacher'.

"Heaven and earth as witness, if Teacher helps this king ascend the throne, then in the future you will be the one and only National Preceptor of Great Liang. Whatever Teacher's heart desires, whatever Teacher's mind seeks, this king will spare no effort to fulfill them all for you."

All Pei Zhi seeks is her.

But later, he killed her.

Pei Zhi drew his gaze back from the blinding azure outside the window, letting it fall on the bronze incense burner at the table's edge, curling with green smoke; his calm eyes suddenly welled with surging hostility.

The next moment he swept his hand and knocked the incense burner to the floor!

"Clang—"

The burner shattered, ash and unburnt incense stems splashed out, spreading a mess across the clean floor tiles.

Pei Zhi closed his eyes, his heart feeling as if cut by a knife.

That day the Yan Prince's mansion was hung with plain white mourning cloth, wails of grief all around, fine rain drifting from the sky, chilling this world to the bone, everything feeling as if it had just happened yesterday.

That was the first time he appeared openly before her, yet they were already separated by yin and yang.

She lay still in the cold coffin, her features peaceful, brows and eyes fully relaxed, as if merely exhausted and fallen into a deep sleep.

Throughout the mansion, everyone wore deep mourning; Xiao Jingyuan was no exception.

Dressed in plain white mourning robes, his already handsome face grew pallid as paper, his jawline sharper than before, his eye sockets slightly sunken, as if he had not eaten properly for days.

His already deep-set, three-dimensional features now gained an extra edge of cold hardness from the loss of color.

Amid the hall filled with weeping, only Xiao Jingyuan's eyes were blood‑red, yet not a tear fell; he stood like a silent stone statue, firmly guarding the coffin.

Pei Zhi brought the then‑missing Shen Xiuci to see her.

Shen Xiuci stumbled forward to the coffin, and upon seeing his sister's form inside, his whole body shuddered violently, his eyes widening in disbelief.

He snapped his head back, his gaze like a fire‑tempered blade, fiercely gouging at the expressionless Xiao Jingyuan, then in an instant he swung his fist and charged—

In the solemn mourning hall, the two actually began to grapple in front of everyone.

"Xiao Jingyuan, didn't you say you could protect her for a lifetime of peace and safety?!"

Shen Xiuci pressed Xiao Jingyuan against the cold floor, raining punches down on him, his voice hoarse to the point of breaking: "Why did she die in the Yan Prince's mansion?! Speak!!"

Xiao Jingyuan's lips split and bled from the blows, yet he hardly resisted; facing his brother‑in‑law's questioning, he simply pressed his lips shut, saying nothing.

Ultimately out of respect for the mourning hall, fearing to disturb the one in the coffin, Shen Xiuci, eyes red, released his grip.

Yet amid the astonished gazes of the Yan Prince's household, he spoke slowly, word by word: "I will take Ningning away."

Xiao Jingyuan's eyes, usually as still as dead water, finally rippled; he stood before the coffin and said in a cold voice: "No one will take her away."

"Xiao Jingyuan, are you even human?!" Shen Xiuci could no longer contain himself, bellowing: "You didn't protect her well, and now she's dead—won't you even give her this bit of peace?!"

"Ningning already divorced you!" he jabbed a finger at Xiao Jingyuan's nose, each word dripping blood: "I am her blood brother; I have the right to take her back to the Shen household, to the Duke's residence! Get out of my way!"

At Xiao Jingyuan's order, a dozen or so Yan Prince's personal guards surged in from left and right, shielding the coffin.

For a moment, the two sides were locked in a stalemate.

At that very moment, Prince Rui, in the name of mourning the deceased, led troops into the Yan Prince's mansion.

"I have heard that Miss Shen the Fourth has passed; I have come specially to see her off on her final journey." Prince Rui's tone was flat, but his gaze swept over the two opposing sides, carrying an indisputable aura of authority.

He addressed her as "Miss Shen the Fourth," not as the heir's consort.

"The deceased is paramount; how can we let her be disturbed here? Men, lift the coffin back to the palace for temporary interment, to be buried on an auspicious day!"

The elite soldiers responded, seizing the Yan Prince's consort and others, and finally forcibly carried the coffin away.

"Knock knock—"

The knocking dragged Pei Zhi's thoughts back; he opened his eyes and looked toward the sound.

Before the complex emotions welling in his eyes could fully subside, he unexpectedly met a pair of eyes as clear as sweet spring water, and for a moment even his breath halted.

"Master Pei, are you all right?"

The hall door was unlatched, with no one guarding outside, so Shen Shuangning simply walked in.

She had thought the hall was empty.

Yet upon entering she collided with scattered incense ash and deep‑blue shards of porcelain on the floor.

And Pei Zhi sat cross‑legged on the soft couch, his expression a gloom she had never seen before, tinged with an indescribable pain.

Shen Shuangning silently thought she might have come at the wrong time, yet her feet moved of their own accord, avoiding the mess on the floor as she stepped toward him.

She simply stood before Pei Zhi.

The instant their gazes met, her sight plunged straight into the depths of his eyes, and her heart involuntarily gave a slight start.

Pei Zhi's gaze at this moment inexplicably reminded her of their first meeting in the rain on the long street outside the Zijin Pavilion, when he had looked at her with those same pain‑filled eyes…

"Master Pei, you—"

Before she could finish, her wrist was suddenly seized by a force.

The next second, her whole body was yanked into an embrace scented with clear, bitter tea.

Immediately afterward, a man's voice, restrained and slightly trembling, fell from above her head—soft as a sigh yet heavy enough to punch a hole in her chest.

"I'm sorry......"