Xie Lanyin dismissed her attendants, keeping only Qingdai and Bai Zhi in her private chamber.
“Qingdai, Bai Zhi, what are people saying outside about Commander Zhan…? Tell me everything you’ve heard, no matter how small.”
The two maidservants exchanged a glance, and Bai Zhi spoke first, her voice soft: “Replying to Young Lady, this servant heard that Commander Zhan’s parents died young, and he has no other relatives in the capital. He currently lives alone in a residence on Qingyue Street.”
Both parents deceased… Xie Lanyin’s eyelashes fluttered slightly.
This news, for her, a bride soon to be wed, though it might seem disrespectful to think this way, truly saved her from the complicated human relations of serving in-laws. Her heart inexplicably relaxed instead.
“Anything else?”
Qingdai interjected, with a hint of barely concealed pickiness in her tone: “They all say Commander Zhan comes from humble origins. Although he now holds a high position, he’s quite unparticular about his food, clothing, housing, and travel. There are also few servants in his residence, and the house is very desolate. It’s probably… probably not even as lively as a side courtyard in our own manor.”
As she spoke, she secretly glanced at Xie Lanyin and muttered, “Young Lady is of noble birth. When you move there, I fear you will suffer grievances.”
“Hmm,” Xie Lanyin replied, not particularly bothered.
Being unparticular was fine. As someone who had transmigrated from a world of steel and concrete, she had no strong attachment to elaborate rituals and luxurious displays. Simplicity and quiet were more comfortable.
The room fell silent for a moment.
Bai Zhi observed her expression, bit her lip, and then lowered her voice: “Young Lady, this servant… also heard a rumor about Commander Zhan’s background, but…”
“But what?” Xie Lanyin looked up, her gaze calm. “Speak plainly. There are no outsiders here.”
Bai Zhi took a deep breath. “Commander Zhan… he originally served under the late Marquis Anyuan, Lu Wenzhao. It’s said he was once a highly valued personal guard of the Marquis.”
Xie Lanyin’s fingers, tapping the edge of the couch, paused.
“Ten years ago, in the Luojian Pass battle in the Northern Di, Marquis Anyuan and his son… along with eighty thousand Protectorate Army soldiers, all died for their country, their bodies never recovered.” Bai Zhi’s voice dropped even lower, carrying a sense of awe and horror for the tragic past. “But strangely, Commander Zhan, as the Marquis’s personal guard, alone… escaped the calamity and returned safely to the capital.”
“Later, Commander Zhan was then exceptionally promoted by His Majesty, who had recently ascended the throne… for ‘timely delivery of critical military intelligence’ and ‘the loyalty and ability he demonstrated’ in the subsequent investigation. He was directly transferred to the Imperial Guard. Since then, he has… risen all the way to Commander.”
“How old is he this year?” Xie Lanyin suddenly asked.
“Twenty-five,” Bai Zhi answered quickly.
Twenty-five years old… Ten years ago, he would have been a fifteen or sixteen-year-old youth. Luojian Pass, eighty thousand lost souls, the commander’s personal guard, the sole survivor returning to the capital, chosen by the Emperor, rising swiftly…
Repaying kindness with enmity? Betraying his master for glory?
These words weighed heavily on Xie Lanyin’s mind.
In her previous life, she was an interrogator, studying criminal psychology, having seen too many distortions and choices of human nature in extreme situations. This narrative seemed logically flawless, forming a perfect “traitorous small-minded person’s” promotion chart.
For a moment, the air in the room seemed to congeal.
Qingdai’s face was already filled with fear and worry. She couldn’t help but whisper, “Young Lady, if… if the rumor is true, wouldn’t this Commander Zhan be… wouldn’t he be a cold-hearted and ruthless person? This marriage… Empress Dowager she…” She didn’t dare finish, but her meaning was clear—marrying such a person would be like leaping into a pit of fire.
Although Bai Zhi didn’t speak, her tightly pursed lips and solemn eyes revealed the same concern.
But…
She closed her eyes, and in her mind, she clearly saw the scarlet figure standing against the light outside the farmhouse in the outskirts of the capital; she recalled his cold, yet not lewd or disrespectful, scrutinizing gaze in the Surveillance Department’s wing room.
At the brink of death, it was he who extended a hand.
Even if his expression was inscrutable and his demeanor aloof, in the depths of those eyes… Xie Lanyin recalled carefully, there was none of the turbid brutality of a typical cruel official, nor the cunning calculations of a petty person who had achieved success. Instead, it was like a bottomless ancient well, beneath its stillness, seemingly suppressing something heavier and more complex than anything she had experienced.
“I understand,” she slowly opened her eyes, which were now filled with calm contemplation. “These words, once you leave this room, are not to be mentioned again, and certainly not to be discussed with anyone else.”
“Yes, Young Lady,” the two maidservants quickly agreed.
Xie Lanyin waved them away and leaned back on the couch alone, gazing at the deepening twilight outside the window.
Zhan Shuo.
What kind of past was hidden behind this name?
Was that “accident” that led to the annihilation of the Lu family and the blood of eighty thousand soldiers staining the battlefield, truly… just a “survivor” who luckily lived and climbed to a high position by it?
She exhaled softly.
Leaving aside the chess game of imperial arranged marriage, her future husband was, in himself, a huge, walking mystery.
As the sun climbed higher, Zhan Shuo had already returned to the city.
His black martial attire was stained with a bit of dust and dew from outside the city, and a faint, fresh scent of water. The hooves of his horse, Trampling Frost, clattered on the bluestone path leading to the Xie Residence, drawing a few curious glances from passersby, who then quickly averted their eyes upon seeing his stern face.
The gatehouse of the Xie Residence had clearly received instructions. Upon seeing him, though surprised, they dared not be negligent and quickly announced his arrival.
Soon, Xie Yanqing personally came to the second gate to greet him. Seeing Zhan Shuo in his un-changed riding attire, and the square blue cloth wrapping held by his personal attendant behind him, a very complex emotion flashed in Xie Yanqing’s eyes.
“Commander Zhan,” Xie Yanqing saluted with clasped hands.
“Minister Xie,” Zhan Shuo returned the bow, his voice steady and unruffled. “By His Majesty’s verbal decree, I have come to visit Miss Xie.” He turned slightly, signaling his attendant to present the blue cloth wrapping. “According to ancient rites, wild geese are used for betrothal gifts. This was personally hunted by this official outside the city, to express my humble intentions. I hope Miss Xie recovers soon.”
Xie Yanqing looked at the wrapping, the tip of a goose feather subtly peeking from the blue cloth’s edge. Personally hunting a wild goose… his heart was stirred. What kind of thoughts lay behind this extreme meticulousness in etiquette? Was it respect, a show of force, or merely an airtight caution?
“Commander Zhan is very thoughtful,” Xie Yanqing had the steward accept the goose gift, then raised a hand in invitation. “My daughter is resting in the ‘Listening to Snow Pavilion’ in the rear courtyard. Lü He, please lead Commander Zhan there.”
Passing through several courtyards, they arrived at the “Listening to Snow Pavilion.” The courtyard was silent, with only the faint scent of medicine wafting from inside the room. The maidservant Bai Zhi stood guard outside the door, and upon seeing the arrivals, she quickly curtsied.
He stepped forward alone, heading towards the tightly closed door. The door was lightly shut, and the light inside was dim. He raised his hand, his knuckles rapping three times on the door, neither too lightly nor too heavily.
“Miss Xie,” his voice carried through the door, not loud, but clear, “Zhan Shuo is here by imperial decree to visit.”
Inside, there was a moment of silence.
After a while, “The door is not locked… Commander Zhan, please come in.”
Zhan Shuo pushed the door open and entered.
This was his first time stepping into the private chamber of an unmarried woman. It was different from the scene he had imagined, filled with rich brocades, overflowing with perfumes, and exquisitely delicate everywhere—
The inner chamber of the “Listening to Snow Pavilion” actually exuded an almost stark simplicity and spaciousness.
The windows were bright and the tables clean. The cabinet of curiosities held more books than trinkets, and on the wall hung a painting of winter plum blossoms with vigorous brushstrokes and rugged, characterful calligraphy, unlike a maiden’s handiwork. The furniture was all of fine rosewood, with smooth, grand lines. The only slightly soft item was an elegant couch by the window, covered with a plain brocade cushion.