Even women who travel through time can become prime ministers and nobles.

Chapter 440 The Remnants of Rongyang King's Army

Shi Wanxia's fingertips were still entwined with the dark pattern on Cui Zhihao's fabric—it was the unique cloud-patterned brocade of the Qinghe Cui family, with a sharp edge in every stitch, but now it was crumpled in her grip.

She was listening intently to him talk about the situation in the capital when, just as he finished speaking, a soft sound came from outside the tent—the sound of footsteps on the blue bricks. Then came the servant's announcement: "Lord Shi, Young Master Cui, His Highness the Crown Prince has sent someone to invite you."

"Your Highness?"

Shi Wanxia's heart skipped a beat, as if she had been burned, and she abruptly pulled away from Cui Zhihao's embrace.

The soft couch she was sitting on was already cramped, and in her haste, her skirt swept across the inkstone on the table, almost spilling the ink.

Choi Ji-ho swiftly caught the inkstone, his fingertips brushing against the ends of her loose hair, carrying a hint of warmth.

Shi Wanxia's ears were already bright red. She raised her hand to tuck a stray hair behind her ear, her voice slightly strained: "Quickly...quickly tidy yourself up, don't keep His Highness's people waiting."

But just as she was about to get up, Cui Zhihao grabbed her wrist.

The man sat down on the soft couch without moving, leaning slightly forward. His dark eyes were filled with a smile, not the aloof smile he usually gave to his courtiers, but a gentle smile with a hint of indulgence.

He brushed his fingertips against her burning earlobe, his voice low and soft, like a feather landing on her heart: "What's the rush? His Highness's men, would they dare to urge you or me?"

Shi Wanxia felt flustered under his gaze and tried to break free of his wrists, but he pulled her back into his arms with a little force.

This time, Choi Jiho wrapped his arms around her even tighter, encircling her completely in front of him. His chin rested on the top of her head, and his breath swept over her ear, carrying his usual scent of pine soot and ink.

He had just been helping her revise her policy proposal, and the ink on his fingertips hadn't yet dissipated.

"Late night."

Choi Ji-ho's voice softened, becoming less joking and more serious.

Just as Shi Wanxia was about to look up, she felt a warmth on her forehead. It was his lips that gently landed on her, carrying a hint of coolness, yet burning her eyes slightly.

"I really want to marry you."

He spoke these words very softly, as if afraid they would be swept away by the wind, or as if afraid of startling her.

Shi Wanxia froze in his arms, her fingers clutching his clothes. Her nose was filled with his cool, refreshing scent, mixed with the sweet fragrance of the osmanthus cake from earlier, making her forget to breathe for a moment.

She knew Cui Zhihao's feelings, but one of them was a female official from a commoner background, and the other was a noble young master who had been expelled from his family.

This marriage was never something that could be accomplished simply by "wanting" it – not to mention the criticism from the court officials, even His Majesty might not allow the Cui family to get too close to the civil official group.

As if guessing her thoughts, Cui Zhihao tightened his arms, holding her firmly in his embrace, resting his head on the top of her head, and sighed softly.

There was no complaint in that sigh, only a hint of helpless clarity, as if he had already seen through the intricate web of power in the court, yet still couldn't help wanting to protect the person in his arms.

But this moment of warmth could not be retained in the end.

The footsteps outside the tent drew closer, and this time the announcement was clearer, tinged with a cautious urgency: "Lord Shi, Young Master Cui, His Highness the Crown Prince is still waiting, saying he has important matters to discuss—"

Choi Ji-ho's body stiffened for a moment, then he slowly released his arm.

He didn't let her go immediately. Instead, he reached out and straightened her wrinkled collar, then gently squeezed her wrist with his fingertips, as if to confirm something, or perhaps to leave her with a lingering thought.

"Let's go,"

His voice returned to its usual gentle tone, but a trace of lingering warmth remained in his eyes.

"Don't keep His Highness waiting, lest he say I've corrupted you again."

Shi Wanxia nodded and raised her hand to wipe the corner of her eye—luckily, she didn't shed a tear, otherwise he would definitely laugh at her.

She stood up, straightened her skirt, and picked up the policy draft on the table. Her fingertips touched the handwriting that Cui Zhihao had corrected on the pages, and her heart softened again.

Choi Ji-ho also got up and handed her the jade pendant she had left on the soft couch.

That was her identification document, which she had just rubbed off.

“Take it,”

He said, "This place is different from other places; we need to be more careful."

The two walked side by side out of the tent, the shadows of the pomegranate trees falling on the blue bricks, dappled and interwoven.

As she approached the door, Shi Wanxia suddenly stopped and turned to look at Cui Zhihao.

The man stood in the shadow of the tree, a corner of his moon-white robe fluttering in the wind. He looked at her with clear eyes, as if to say, "Don't be afraid."

She bit her lip, said nothing, and turned to follow the Crown Prince's servant toward the East Palace.

After taking a few steps, she heard Cui Zhihao's voice behind her, low but loud enough for her to hear: "Wanwan, wait for me."

Shi Wanxia paused, but did not turn around. She simply clenched the jade pendant in her hand.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the pomegranate blossoms, falling warmly on the back of her hand.

She knew that when Choi Ji-ho said "wait," he was never just saying it.

But now is not the right time for them to discuss marriage. At least they should wait until she can truly bring value to Cang Ling and His Majesty.

She dared not think too deeply and could only quicken her pace to follow the servant toward Shen Yanzhou's tent.

The copper bells on the tent were still ringing, and the fragrance of pomegranate blossoms in the wind was fading. In its place came the unique ambergris of the Eastern Palace, deep and majestic, like an invisible net slowly descending.

As soon as the eunuch lifted the tent flap, Shi Wanxia saw Shen Yanzhou's personal eunuch running up to her, his face pale: "Lord Shi, Young Master Cui, His Highness is waiting inside the tent, saying that there is an urgent matter."

Cui Zhihao went in first, reached out and helped Shi Wanxia up. The warmth of his palm came through his fingertips, easing her unease.

The two walked inside side by side. Incense was burning in the tent, but it couldn't dispel the anxiety that filled the room.

Shen Yanzhou stood with his back to the tent flap. The hem of his moon-white prince's robe was stained with mud, indicating that he had just returned from outside. Hearing footsteps, he turned around abruptly, the bloodshot eyes even more pronounced than when he was in the Eastern Palace in the capital.

"You guys are here!"

Shen Yanzhou strode over, waved his hand before they could even greet him, and then called out to the door.

"Bring tea quickly! It must be piping hot, bring the best Yunwu tea from Chuzhou!"

The eunuch dared not delay and hurried in carrying the tea tray.

Shi Wanxia took the teacup, her fingertips touching the warm cup, but she had no desire to drink it.

Shen Yanzhou's anxious state must mean that the situation in Chuzhou is worse than expected.

She put down her teacup, bowed, and asked, "Your Highness, has there been any movement from the old subordinates in Chuzhou?"

Shen Yanzhou sat down at the desk and tapped the tabletop heavily with his knuckles. On the desk lay a palm-sized bronze fragment, engraved with intricate patterns and with dark red rust stains on its edges.

“I went to check on the refugee shelters in the west of the city just now, and the guards found this in the dry well behind the shelters.”

He pushed the bronze fragments aside, his voice tense, “Look at this emblem—it’s the tiger tally that Prince Rongyang used to wear, there’s no mistake.”

Shi Wanxia leaned closer for a look, and her pupils suddenly contracted. She was all too familiar with this pattern.

When Yuan Xiaomiao was sorting out the old accounts of the Ministry of Revenue, the receipts for several unaccounted-for funds and grains under her supervision bore similar emblems, but the emblems were blurry at the time, and she was not sure if she could confirm them.

Upon seeing the fragment of the tiger tally, all the speculations were confirmed: Yuan Xiaomiao was not only colluding with his old subordinates, but also extending his reach to various parts of Chuzhou.

"Yuan Xiaomiao is so bold as to openly contact his former subordinates."

Shi Wanxia traced the patterns on the bronze fragment with her fingertips, her tone turning somber, "Your Highness, could this fragment be..."

"It can't be a coincidence."

Choi Ji-ho picked up the conversation, picked up the bronze fragment, examined it carefully against the light, and ran his fingertip along the notch on the edge of the fragment.

"The break in this fragment is very fresh; it was discarded within the last three days at most."

"Moreover, the shelters for disaster victims in the west of the city had only been set up for a short time. The fact that the old subordinates chose to hide things there must be because they wanted to take advantage of the chaos among the disaster victims to cover their tracks—maybe they are even mixed in with the disaster victims."