Chapter 92: He Would Give Anything—Except the Sword

Xie Lin froze for a moment, looking at him with a strange expression: "You didn't think highly of it before?"

"Before I didn't think highly of it, but now it's different." Xiao Jingyuan stood not far away, staring fixedly at the sword in Xie Lin's hand.

Xie Lin wondered: "What's different?"

Xiao Jingyuan lowered his eyes, saying nothing.

Without waiting for Xiao Jingyuan's reply, Xie Lin slipped the Same-Boat Sword into its case, closed the box, put it back where it belonged, and turned around.

Leaning casually against the desk edge with his hands braced behind him, his expression was utterly serious.

"It's impossible to give it back to you—or rather, it was always mine, so what do you mean by 'returning' it?"

"As for my treasures, I can give you anything—except this sword; there's no room for negotiation."

Xiao Jingyuan tugged at the corner of his mouth slightly, a faint bitterness showing; standing in the shadows, he always kept his expression unreadable.

Xie Lin initially thought Xiao Jingyuan had simply changed his mind on a whim, merely wanting to keep the sword.

But then it suddenly struck him that Xiao Jingyuan had been far quieter than usual all day, especially after leaving the palace, that silence gradually hinting at something off.

Moreover, he was unexpectedly demanding the return of that Same-Boat Sword he had once looked down upon...

Just as Xie Lin was beginning to sense a clue, Xiao Jingyuan had already shifted the topic.

"You summoned me here, isn't there something you want to show me?"

Hearing that, Xie Lin snapped back to attention, finally remembering the matter at hand, and instantly cast the sword business from his mind.

"Come take a look." He eagerly spread out several sheets of paper on the desk, his voice excited: "This is what I worked out while in Dan Zhou."

"You have no idea—the bandits in Dan Zhou are not only fierce but extraordinarily cunning. They nest their strongholds in treacherous terrain, easy to defend, hard to attack, and like crafty rabbits they prepare multiple escape routes; for the imperial forces to assault them is nearly impossible."

The drawings showed Xie Lin's research: several refined designs of repeating crossbows and catapults.

At the crossbow's nock he added a movable mortise-and-tenon joint, allowing bolts to fire thirty percent faster in succession; the bolt heads were coated with a special numbing agent, so even if they missed a vital spot, the struck target would instantly go limp.

The catapult had its base shrunk and fitted with detachable axles; what once required over a dozen men to move could now be carried by four across rough ground, and its stone projectiles were wrapped in oil-soaked hemp, igniting on impact.

As Xiao Jingyuan listened to his explanation, his expression grew increasingly solemn.

He had originally thought Xie Lin was merely a decorative pillow in the craft of making devices, never expecting him to actually devise something genuinely useful.

Xie Lin was still speaking enthusiastically, and Xiao Jingyuan found himself looking at him.

It seems heaven is always fair—granting Xie Lin an excellent background, yet making him obsess over skills that aristocratic families deem "unfit for the refined hall," leaving his talents with no outlet.

He...

Xiao Jingyuan thought of himself.

Not knowing what he had thought of, the light in his eyes gradually dimmed, finally turning into a pool of dead water.

Xie Lin was immersed in his own world, failing to notice the despondency of the person beside him; his slender fingers pressed on the drawings as if recalling something, and he suddenly asked: "Do you know who I was thinking of when I drew these?"

Xiao Jingyuan then lifted his gaze, looking at the bright-eyed, spirited youth before him.

He already had the answer in his heart.

The same person rose in both of their minds.

Before Xie Lin could speak, a voice came from outside the door: Chang Shu's.

"Heir Apparent, the Marquis has returned; he summons you."

After being interrupted like that, Xie Lin couldn't continue; he answered outward, then stepped out.

But upon reaching the doorway he suddenly halted, turned his head to the person inside, and said: "Old sir will probably keep me chatting for a while; I don't know when I'll be back, so do as you please. Still, I warn you—don't harbor any designs on that sword."

He meant both the sword and the person.

Having said that, Xie Lin strode off, his silhouette vanishing outside the door.

Only Xiao Jingyuan remained in the room, the door left unclosed.

The night breeze carried a faint chill, and the delicate fragrance of magnolia flowers drifted in from outside.

Xiao Jingyuan closed his eyes, stood still for a moment, then eventually stepped toward the black case.

He reached out and lifted the lid.

The long sword lay quietly in its sheath, its edge fully sheathed.

Yet in his mind unbidden rose the scene of their wedding night in his previous life—Shen Shuangning holding this sword with both hands, her face flushed with shyness, yet her eyes glittering with anticipation and excitement as she carefully presented it to him.

"A sword is essentially a blood‑stained, foul thing—what maiden would give such a thing on her wedding night?"

"His heir apparent's consort was truly unlike any other."

Xiao Jingyuan recalled that, the day after the bridal chamber, an urgent summons came from the palace; in his haste he didn't even have time to examine the sword's appearance closely.

He merely hurriedly instructed Qingfeng to take it to his study, keep it separate from other weapons, and forbid anyone else from touching it.

Aside from that, he had no further memories of the sword.

Thus Xiao Jingyuan very much wanted to examine the sword's appearance carefully.

The sword was three feet long, narrow and sharp, gleaming with a cold light. Its spine bore a faint cloud pattern, the grip wrapped in deep‑green shark‑skin silk, fitting the hand snugly. At the tip sat a white jade ring that chimed lightly when touched, clear and pleasing to the ear.

"It was a fine sword."

Compared with the sword Xiao Jingyuan usually wielded, it wasn't particularly heavy, yet at this moment, lifting it made his heart feel weighed down, as if bearing something.

Xiao Jingyuan looked at it for a while, then returned it to its sheath and put it back where it belonged.

Afterwards he took the drawings from Xie Lin's desk, turned, and left the Eternal Peace Marquis Manor.

Upon returning to Prince Yan's Manor, it was already the hour of hai, the night sky moonless and starless.

Lamps were lit throughout the manor, yet it remained exceptionally quiet, no different from usual.

He had not returned for three days; hearing the servants say the princess consort had taken her medicine and gone to sleep, he asked a few questions, then went straight to Tranquil Profound Abode.

Tranquil Profound Abode was his sleeping quarters, also its original name; in his previous life, after Shen Shuangning moved in, it was renamed Peaceful Tranquil Residence.

"The name was her choice; he rarely bothered with such trivial matters."

Since he kept dreaming of his past life, he rarely set foot in Tranquil Profound Abode, instead staying mostly in the Pacification Bureau, to the princess consort's frequent complaints.

Recently with nothing to do, Xiao Jingyuan planned to stay a few more days at the prince's residence, accompanying the princess.

After telling the servants to light the calming incense, he went to the cleansing room to bathe; by the time he realized the incense was problematic, his consciousness had already grown somewhat hazy.

Xiao Jingyuan gripped the tub's rim with both hands, his chest heaving unevenly; his heavy breaths struck the misty vapor, stirring fine white wisps.

Hearing the footsteps behind him, his eyes narrowed, his depths surging with vigilance and chill, his face flushed with anger.

When did such unclean things enter the prince's residence, daring to reach out their hands and feet here?

Just then, a soft, cotton-like female voice came from behind, carrying a deliberately gentle tenderness; a cool hand lightly rested on his shoulder and back, gently stroking.

Prince, let me wipe your body...

That night Shen Shuangning rested in the main hall of Chang Le Gong, sleeping together with Jingyu.

It was Jingyu who insisted on pulling her to sleep together.

The princess had kept vigil for her mother for seven days, barely sleeping, yet she still spoke some heartfelt words to Shen Shuangning before unconsciously closing her eyes and falling asleep.

Even asleep, she clung to Shen Shuangning, murmuring something, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.

Shen Shuangning heard it indistinctly, merely patting her shoulder lightly as she watched her sink into deep sleep.

That kick from Prince Chen during the day truly brought disaster upon the innocent; however, Prince Chen had held back his strength, otherwise a kick to the heart would easily have taken a life.

Afterwards, after recovering, it wasn't so painful, but after a whole day he was indeed utterly exhausted.

Shen Shuangning closed her eyes in thought: why would Prince Chen return to the capital at this juncture?

Moreover, he seemed extremely displeased; only the emperor could make Prince Chen feel that way.

Emperor Xuanwen favored literature over martial arts, always wary of his own siblings.

Prince Chen garrisoned the northwest; although he held military authority, he was constantly suppressed, and now the northwest situation has eased, no longer needing heavy troops stationed.

This return to the capital, the emperor likely summoned the clans under the pretext of 'rewarding merit,' but actually intended to transfer the northwest military authority to trusted generals, then, as in the previous life, strip Prince Chen of his command and exile him to a remote region.

It was literally pulling down the bridge after crossing the river; Prince Chen would be strange not to be furious.

Shen Shuangning recalled again the conversation between the Empress and Kang Shouyi; she had already pondered it over.

The Empress disliked the Beautiful Consort.

Although the Empress put on an air of high status and disdain for quarreling with the Beautiful Consort, she might still act against her; it's merely that the opportunity has not yet arrived.

Yet for now, to outsiders, Shen Shuangning appears to be under the Beautiful Consort's protection, so the Empress would naturally think likewise.

Thus the Empress's words were clearly a reminder—no, a warning—warning her not to get too close to the Beautiful Consort, lest she draw fire upon herself.

After thinking it through clearly, Shen Shuangning instead felt a hint of puzzlement.

She was merely a young lady from a modest clan, seen by outsiders as having struck luck to enter the palace as a companion reader; even though she is now somewhat close to the Beautiful Consort, she will soon leave the palace to return home, having no further ties to this deep palace.

The Empress's attempt to dispose of the Beautiful Consort is a struggle among high-ranking palace women; how could it possibly concern her?

Shen Shuangning felt again that her thoughts weren't quite clear, so she simply tugged at her collar and turned over to sleep.

Never mind what others think; she and the Beautiful Consort were never of the same kind, and the Beautiful Consort's gaze toward her showed not the slightest liking.

Two days later, Shen Shuangning realized the matter was not simple.

Because the Beautiful Consort had actually invited Madam Shen into the palace!

At that moment, Shen Shuangning had just returned from Shu Zhai to Chang Le Gong, intending to rest briefly, when Ah Heng rushed in to report, saying Madam Shen had entered the palace and was now in the Beautiful Consort's Brocade Palace.

Shen Shuangning's heart sank sharply; she did not know what scheme the Beautiful Consort was hatching, but it certainly was nothing good.

Shen Shuangning's mother, Lady Liu, came from a merchant clan in Jiangxi, overseeing the world's second-largest Ping'an ticket number; such wealth, even in the entire Great Zhou dynasty, is exceedingly rare.

The Beautiful Consort suddenly summoning her mother to the palace likely aims at that ticket number……

Shen Shuangning hurried toward the Brocade Palace, so anxious that a fine layer of sweat appeared on her forehead.

She clearly recalled from her previous life why the Beautiful Consort had fallen: one reason was her private lending of money, which is illegal!

Naturally, the Beautiful Consort would not let her mother notice her true intent; later, posing as an ordinary customer, she would cooperate with the Ping'an ticket number, bind interests, then secretly use the ticket number to launder money and keep false accounts……

Thus the Ping'an ticket number would be forcibly dragged into her mess, impossible to cleanly extricate itself!

When the truth comes to light, the Ping'an ticket number will become a scapegoat; not only will the maternal grandparents' family suffer, but even the Duke's manor will be implicated!

That wicked woman, the Beautiful Consort, how dare she scheme against their family!

She must rush over to intercept her mother!

Seeing Shen Shuangning so anxious, Jingyu, unaware of what had happened, followed along.

Upon reaching outside the Brocade Palace, they saw the senior palace maid Yichun from before.

Yichun seemed to guess Shen Shuangning's purpose for coming here, deliberately trying to stall, speaking slowly: "Fourth Miss, please wait a moment; allow this servant to go inside and report to the mistress."

Jingyu shoved her aside impatiently: "Even daring to block this princess, you blind dog, get out of the way!"

Yichun stood stunned, then suddenly indignant: "You, you! This is the Brocade Palace, how could you......" so insolent!

Jingyu ignored her completely, pulling Shen Shuangning inside with large strides.

Shen Shuangning discovered that sometimes authority really is effective.

Yichun stamped her feet in fury on the spot, staring at Jingyu's back, hatefully saying: "Born of a mother but not raised by her, even the Virtuous Noble Consort is dead—see how long you can remain arrogant!"