“Jiang Congyan, daughter of the Prince of Chu, respectfully pays her respects.”
Jiang Congyan suddenly lifted her eyes, her pupils shrinking.
A surge of emotion welled up uncontrollably, stinging her eyes. She blinked hard, forcing the tears back so they wouldn’t fall.
He had been willing to abandon revenge and sink into darkness for over a decade just to avoid dragging the Zhang family into open rebellion against Liang—
And yet now, for her sake, he was willing to tear everything apart.
In his heart, even the empire itself could not compare to his only daughter.
“No,” Jiang Congyan shook her head through tears, her voice hoarse and broken. “You know it, Father… just like you, I cannot.”
“If I truly fled, Liangzhou would be dragged into utter ruin.”
If she ran, Liangzhou would effectively be rebelling against Liang—and would also have to face Tuoba Xiao’s wrath.
Grief filled Jiang Huai’s face. His eyes shimmered with tears, layered with guilt, love, self-reproach… but even more so, pride.
His daughter, like her imperial grandfather, was someone who bore righteousness in her heart.
“Father… perhaps marrying Tuoba Xiao isn’t entirely a bad thing.”
Outside the pavilion, Ruolan, Sizi, and a young page stood guard.
The pavilion was surrounded by water on three sides, five zhang wide. Only the eastern entrance could be approached, and even from the shore, it was too far to overhear anything. The structure itself was uniquely built, with excellent soundproofing—nothing inside could be heard from outside.
Sizi grew restless. “Aunt Ruolan, what do you think Miss is talking about with the lord? Can he help her?”
But the lord had been so drunk… could he even hear properly?
Ruolan only shook her head, hands folded, gazing quietly at the blue sky.
This residence held many of her past memories.
Back then, the lady and the lord had not been like this. There had once been laughter here.
She remembered:
“Ruolan, you’re the same age as me—don’t be so serious all the time! Want to climb up? The view from the tree is amazing!”
“Ruolan, I think I like Jiang Huai… not that kind of like, but that kind of like! Ah, I can’t explain it…”
“Ruolan, I’m pregnant! It feels so strange!”
“Ruolan… I feel like the situation is getting worse…”
“Ruolan… these two children… I leave them to you. Please take good care of them…”
…
Her lady’s final was forever etched in her heart.
As for the lord… if heaven showed mercy, let him burn brightly just once.
When Sizi could no longer sit still and began pacing, the door finally opened.
Ruolan immediately looked at Jiang Congyan’s face. Though composed, her eyes were red—she had clearly been crying.
Jiang Congyan calmly instructed the young page, “Bring the lord some sobering tea. He’s still drunk.”
On the way back, they encountered servants from time to time. Jiang Congyan deliberately maintained a dejected expression—it didn’t take long for watchful eyes to notice.
She had stayed too long in the Lishui Pavilion today. There had to be a reasonable explanation—such as going to her father to cry and plead, only to fail.
Before leaving, she had asked one final question:
“Father, what kind of person was my mother in your eyes?”
She had never met her mother in this lifetime. The only image she’d seen was a childhood portrait—eight or nine years old.
Her grandmother once told her, “You look exactly like your mother.”
But she never said that again—because even she had never seen her daughter grown.
Zhang Yiniang remained forever ten years old in their memories.
Back in Chang’an, there were no portraits in the Prince of Chu’s residence. Jiang Congyan could only imagine her through Ruolan’s descriptions.
The question seemed to stump Jiang Huai.
After thinking for a long time, he finally said carefully, with deep tenderness:
“Your mother… was the one who came to me when I was most helpless… and stayed by my side, supporting me forward.”
She had grown up in Liangzhou, cherished by her parents, wild and free like a tree on the frontier. Yet she had been forced into Chang’an—pruned into a delicate flower, placed in a gilded cage.
Even so, she never complained.
Instead, she brought joy into Jiang Huai’s rigid, restrained life—pulling him out of grief, becoming the only light in his dark world.
He taught her to read and write.
She, in turn, taught him strange tricks, odd skills, and even dreamed of crafting clever weapons to defeat the northern tribes with a flick—ridiculous, yet endearing.
Those days passed in laughter.
Later, as they grew older, they understood love—and became true husband and wife.
Those were the happiest days of Jiang Huai’s life.
The strength that kept him standing.
Jiang Congyan said nothing after hearing this.
There was nothing left to say.
She simply bowed deeply to her father and left.
Back in her residence, she stood by the window, looking past the magnolia blossoms into the distant sky.
The sadness on her face vanished.
The moisture in her eyes receded like a tide, revealing something sharp and unyielding beneath.
If Tuoba Xiao wanted to marry her—
Then she would marry him.
As she had said, it might not be a bad thing.
In this world, women had no place in court. The only way to approach power was through marriage.
Tuoba Xiao was the ruler of the northern lands.
By marrying him, she could step directly into the arena of power—and do what she wished to do.
Jiang Congyan asked Ruolan to bring a smooth, carved wooden tablet. She personally wrote a visiting card:
“Jiang Congyan, daughter of the Prince of Chu, respectfully pays her respects.
Sixth day of the third month—requesting an audience.”
Once the ink dried, she handed it over.
“Deliver this to Tuoba Xiao.”
“You’re going to see him?” Ruolan frowned slightly, uneasy. After that night, her impression of him wasn’t good—too frivolous.
“Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
On the other side—
When Tuoba Xiao received her card, he was first surprised, then pleased.
He had not stopped thinking about her. But the past few days had been busy—negotiations with Liang still ongoing. Besides, the emperor had already issued the decree. She would be his sooner or later.
So he had held back.
Now that she had come to him willingly, he was delighted—quickly clearing his schedule to wait for her.
He was curious what she would say.
The next day, Jiang Congyan prepared herself.
She brought a carriage filled with fine wine, Liang delicacies, preserved meats, and rare gifts, then set off for Fanglin Garden.
The moment she stepped out of the carriage, the guards rushed inside to report her arrival.
Led by a servant, she passed through corridors and courtyards—
And saw the man in the main hall.
He noticed her as well, rising to his feet, his deep eyes fixed on her.