Time Is Slow - Chapter 41

The man in black chuckled softly.

“I am Jiang Yuanchao, ranked thirteenth under Commander Jiang of the Jinlin Guards. Since the general has already recognized my identity, why bother asking?”

Jiang Yuanchao had just returned to the capital and hadn’t yet reported to his office. But since future encounters with Shao Mingyuan in the city were inevitable, there was no longer any point in hiding his identity.

Shao Mingyuan was momentarily taken aback, then nodded. 

“Indeed, I asked unnecessarily. Farewell.”

With that, he vaulted onto his horse, gave Jiang Yuanchao a cupped-fist salute, and rode off, entirely unfazed.

Jiang Yuanchao’s heart stirred slightly.

He had always assumed this famed general of Great Liang—renowned across the land—was more brute than brain. But now, he realized he had misjudged him.

The man had identified him as a Jinlin Guard based solely on how he drew his sword, and remained calm in the face of being shadowed by the dreaded secret service. That spoke volumes about his intelligence and composure—far beyond the ordinary.

And yet this was the same man who failed to protect his own wife… Could there be more to the story?

Jiang Yuanchao thought of the girl—once the bloom of life, now withered—and felt a pang of bitterness. The north had long been plagued by war, beyond even the Jinlin Guard’s reach. The truth of how she fell into enemy hands might never be known.

“I’ve overstepped,” Shao Mingyuan said, reining in his horse.

Jiang Yuanchao smiled. 

“No offense, General. I was just out for a ride.”

“Ah. The spring weather is quite lovely,” Shao Mingyuan replied coolly.

Everyone knew the thirteen officers under Commander Jiang all bore his surname.

Jiang Yuanchao’s eyes crinkled with a warm smile that made him appear as gentle as jade. 

“A lovely day indeed. Is the General also out enjoying the countryside?”

From Shao Mingyuan’s gaze alone, Jiang Yuanchao could tell that this was a man not entirely corrupted by power. And someone like that—surely he must feel guilty over his wife’s death?

That’s exactly what I want to see: his guilt, his pain. Who told him not to protect the girl who moved his heart?

Sure enough, Shao Mingyuan’s expression changed. Like a still lake disturbed by a small pebble, the calm broke—ripples of sorrow and weariness emerged.

“I’m retrieving my wife’s coffin to bring her home,” he said softly.

“Ah… General Shao’s wife was returned along with the coffins of the fallen soldiers, wasn’t she? The General’s devotion runs deep,” Jiang Yuanchao replied with a smile that never left his lips.

Those who knew him well recognized it as the usual mask of the Thirteenth Lord. Those who didn’t might take it for sincerity—only to be met with humiliation.

Shao Mingyuan had never interacted with Jiang Yuanchao before. Even now, he didn’t understand why the man was saying these strange things. But those four words—devotion runs deep—were like a blade, stabbing straight into his heart. Painful, and shameful.

He, Shao Mingyuan, had saved thousands. Yet from the moment that arrow went loose, his life had been condemned to hell.

He forced a faint smile and met Jiang Yuanchao’s gaze.

“You jest, Lord Jiang. Farewell.”

He nudged his horse, and the restless white steed took off like an arrow, disappearing into the distance.

The wind howled past his ears, slicing through his robes with bone-deep chill. But the rider felt nothing. He only spurred his horse faster.

He had first met Lady Qiao when the city was on the brink of siege, with no way out. There had been no romantic love between them, but there had been the bond of marriage. And yet… he had failed to protect her. He had nearly taken her life with his own hands.

Shao Mingyuan shut his eyes, breath catching painfully in his chest.

The horse hit a dip in the road, jolting him and aggravating the fresh wound at his side. The pain surged, stirring up all the old scars from countless battles.

His knuckles whitened as he gripped the reins, but he remained steady—showing not the slightest tremor.

He opened his eyes and looked up at the sky, where clouds rolled like mountains.

A storm is coming.

Every time the weather changed, his old wounds would ache. Without fail.

Sometimes, Shao Mingyuan couldn’t help but mock himself.

At least this pain gives me a weather forecast. Helpful in battle, I suppose.

Soon, thunder cracked and a downpour roared from the heavens like a waterfall. Travelers and carriages on the road scrambled for shelter.

Only a single white-clad rider on a white horse disappeared into the curtain of rain.

By the roadside, a finely crafted, spacious carriage had halted, surrounded by guards. From within, a delicate jade hand lifted the curtain. A face as lovely as a flower peeked out to watch the rain—just as the white horse galloped past, splashing muddy water onto her.

The young woman let out a startled cry and turned to glare angrily, only to catch a fleeting glimpse of a white figure disappearing into the rain.

“Princess! Are you all right?” a palace maid exclaimed in alarm, hurriedly picking up a soft cloth to wipe her face.

The young girl had eyes as clear and shimmering as rippling water, a delicately curved chin, and cheeks tinged with a faint pink blush: she was undoubtedly a stunning beauty. At the moment, however, her face was splashed with filthy water. Not to mention men, even the maid who was helping her wipe it off couldn’t help but curse the rider who had just galloped by as a scoundrel.

This girl was none other than the ninth daughter of Emperor Mingkang, the famed beauty known as Princess Zhenzhen.

“Long Ying, who was that just now?” Princess Zhenzhen was fuming.

Never in her life had she experienced something so disgusting. For such dirty water to splash across her face? That man was as good as dead in her eyes!

Long Ying was her personal bodyguard, highly skilled and ever calm. Though the white figure had flashed by quickly in the rain, he had still managed to catch a rough glimpse of the rider’s face.

The young man standing beside the carriage stepped forward and lowered his voice.

“Reporting to Your Highness, from what I saw, it seemed to be the Champion Marquis, who recently returned to the capital after a victorious campaign.”

“The Champion Marquis?” Princess Zhenzhen frowned, unable to recall much about the general whose name resounded throughout the land.

Sitting upright, she said irritably, “I want to see for myself what kind of man this Champion Marquis is, to behave so rudely toward me.”

The palace maid beside her chimed in, “Exactly! That man went too far!”

For someone as beautiful as the princess to have her face splashed with mud, it was unforgivable!

“Let’s go,” Princess Zhenzhen said coldly.

“Your Highness, should we wait until the rain lightens a bit—?”

Princess Zhenzhen tilted her chin proudly.

“No. Looking like this, how could I possibly wait?”

The ornate carriage slowly resumed its journey through the curtain of rain, moving forward with difficulty.

Meanwhile, Jiang Yuanchao was taking shelter from the rain in a small roadside tea shed.

The shed was crude and leaky, with rain dripping through in long strings like bead curtains, falling with a soft patter.

He had ordered a pot of hot tea and was sipping it leisurely, gazing at the steadily intensifying rain, lost in thought.

Now that his presence had already been discovered, there was no need for him to trail behind stealthily.

And to be fair, he hadn’t entirely lied to General Shao. This outing really was a personal matter.

He had simply wanted to see with his own eyes what she would look like upon her return.

Hmm. This rain came at just the right time. If that man froze to death, so much the better.

Jiang Yuanchao chuckled silently to himself, his gaze drifting to an ornate carriage that was slowly approaching through the downpour, his eyes sharpening slightly.

Now who could this be? The guards accompanying that carriage were no ordinary soldiers.

Just as he was wondering, the carriage suddenly came to a stop right in front of the tea shed.