When Zhou Cun arrived, Shen Zhiyi was counting radishes.
Seventy-eight plants—none missing. The tallest leaves had already grown their third true leaf.
“Miss,” Qingtang’s voice came from behind her, tense.
“Lord Zhou is here.”
Shen Zhiyi brushed the soil from her hands and stood up.
Zhou Cun was standing at the courtyard gate in plain clothes. His hair was neatly combed, and he held a wooden box in his hands. The moment he saw her, his eyes turned red.
“Lord Zhou,” Shen Zhiyi said with a polite curtsy.
“What brings you here…?”
Zhou Cun hurried forward and suddenly dropped to his knees with a thud.
Shen Zhiyi froze.
Qingtang instinctively stepped back.
“Lord Zhou!” Shen Zhiyi quickly tried to help him up.
“Please, what are you doing? Get up!”
But Zhou Cun refused to rise. Looking up at her with tears streaming down his face, he said,
“Your Ladyship… this old minister begs you for one thing.”
Shen Zhiyi’s heart tightened.
She remembered what Xiao Jue had said the night before:
“Zhou Cun wants to see you. I blocked him for you—but he won’t give up.”
“Please rise first,” she said, firmly pulling him up.
“Qingtang, bring a stool.”
Qingtang quickly fetched one. Zhou Cun sat down, wiping his tears with his sleeve.
Shen Zhiyi stood before him, her tone gentle.
“Speak slowly, Lord Zhou.”
Zhou Cun looked at her and suddenly asked,
“Is it true… that Your Ladyship does not understand celestial phenomena?”
Shen Zhiyi did not answer.
He stared into her eyes, his voice trembling.
“I have served in the Imperial Observatory for thirty years. I have seen countless people, yet none of them could see through the key of ‘Mars in opposition to the Heart’ like you did at a glance. If you say you don’t understand it… I don’t believe it.”
Shen Zhiyi was silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled.
“If you don’t believe me, Lord Zhou… would you believe me if I said I do understand it?”
Zhou Cun froze.
Shen Zhiyi walked to the radish bed, crouched down, and pulled out a seedling that was growing too densely. She examined it in her hand.
“Lord Zhou,” she said without looking up.
“Why do you insist on finding me?”
Zhou Cun stood up and walked behind her, lowering his voice.
“Because of Imperial Consort Jing.”
Shen Zhiyi’s hand paused.
“That night, ten years ago, when Imperial Consort Jing died, I was standing outside Fangcao Hall.”
His voice trembled.
“She sent out a letter. It said that if she died, I was to find someone.”
Shen Zhiyi slowly stood and turned around.
Zhou Cun looked at her with desperate hope.
“The letter said that person would enter Fangcao Hall, would understand the books she left behind, and would be able to see through the heavens just like she did.”
He stepped forward, voice shaking.
“Your Ladyship… I have searched for ten years. Finally… I have found you.”
Shen Zhiyi said nothing.
Her mind raced.
A letter from Consort Jing, saying someone would come, someone who could understand her books?
She knew ten years ago that someone like that would appear?
No.
Unless—
“The letter,” Shen Zhiyi asked.
“Did you bring it?”
Zhou Cun hurriedly nodded and opened the wooden box, taking out a yellowed letter and handing it to her with both hands.
Shen Zhiyi took it and unfolded it.
The paper was brittle, almost ready to crumble.
The handwriting matched the annotations in the Celestial Phenomena Record exactly—neat, elegant, unmistakably the same person.
“To Lord Zhou,If you receive this letter, I ask that you do not pursue the matter further. Protect yourself first.If one day a woman enters Fangcao Hall and can understand the books I left behind, she will be the one I entrust everything to.Please tell her this truth—she will understand it on her own.”
Signed: Imperial Consort Jing
Dated: the night before Mid-Autumn Festival, ten years ago.
Shen Zhiyi stared at it, her heart shaken.
Consort Jing knew someone would come.
How did she know?
Unless—
“Your Ladyship,” Zhou Cun asked anxiously.
“Do you understand it now?”
Shen Zhiyi folded the letter and returned it to him. After a long silence, she suddenly asked,
“Lord Zhou… did Consort Jing ever say anything strange before she died?”
“Strange words?” Zhou Cun thought.
“Yes,” Shen Zhiyi chose her words carefully.
“About fate, about the future… about things that don’t belong to this world.”
Zhou Cun’s expression changed.
He stared at her, lips trembling.
“How… how could Your Ladyship know that?”
He took a shaky breath.
“Indeed… she once said she dreamed she came from another world. A place where people did not use carriages, where they could fly in the sky, and communicate through a small mirror from far away…”
Shen Zhiyi closed her eyes.
So it was true.
Consort Jing… like her… was also a transmigrator.