My Partner Always Wants to Dig My Grave - Chapter 30

Under the glaring white light, a woman with long, flowing hair bowed her head as she fumbled with an unfamiliar phone. Her fingertips tapped repeatedly on the screen, navigating to some unknown interface.

Si Wan watched from the side, unaware that her own eyes were brimming with affection and tenderness.

An inexplicable feeling washed over her, a desire to spend the rest of her life quietly gazing at the other person just like this.

Sheng Zhen was clever. Without relying on Si Wan, she experimented a few more times and soon figured out the patterns, gradually becoming more adept at using the device. However, she still struggled to read modern simplified Chinese characters, so she focused only on the images displayed.

Having been busy all day, Si Wan now felt a wave of exhaustion settling over her features as she finally quieted down.

She raised a hand to rub her temples, and when she glanced back at Sheng Zhen, she noticed the other woman stealing a look at her.

“If you’re tired, go ahead and sleep. I’m not sleepy.”

As she spoke, Sheng Zhen firmly pressed Si Wan’s head down onto her own shoulder, her tone taking on a coaxing quality.

“Sleep. I won’t turn off the light.”

It was usually Sheng Zhen who leaned on Si Wan’s shoulder, so this was the first time Si Wan found herself resting against Sheng Zhen. The chill that typically emanated from Sheng Zhen seemed to soften just for her, pleasantly dispelling the summer heat.

Si Wan found it strange that she didn’t resist the gesture. Instead, as she drew closer, a sense of calm washed over her heart.

“Thank you.”

The words slipped out, though Si Wan wasn’t quite sure why she felt the need to thank Sheng Zhen at that moment.

Sheng Zhen’s gaze remained fixed on her phone screen, her slender, elegant fingers tapping away. She paid no attention to Si Wan’s softly spoken gratitude.

Fatigue and drowsiness soon overwhelmed Si Wan, and as her heavy eyelids closed, the last blurred image in her sight was Sheng Zhen’s figure beside her.

Suddenly, her ears were filled with the sound of cheers. As she slowly opened her eyes, the harsh white light seemed to dissolve into vibrant colors.

Ancient towers and lofty buildings surrounded her; the entire city was alive with excitement. A figure on horseback approached, clad in imposing armor that gleamed with an intimidating cold light. A crimson cloak billowed behind them, its arc carrying an air of unyielding pride.

Confused, Si Wan glanced around and realized she was standing by the street, surrounded by magnificent palaces and an atmosphere steeped in antiquity.

Almost instinctively, she knew she had entered a dream once again.

The sound of hooves drew nearer, and a shadow loomed over her. Si Wan looked up, squinting in an attempt to see through the haze surrounding the figure, but it was futile.

Since their last encounter, the youthful innocence had completely faded from the person, replaced by the aloofness of one hardened by battle.

A glint of light suddenly caught Si Wan’s eye. Following it, her gaze fell upon a spear in the figure’s hand.

The spear was stained with dried blood, radiating a sharp, murderous aura that instilled fear.

Yet the weapon looked all too familiar. Without much thought, Si Wan’s mind flashed back to the spear she had seen in the tomb.

The victorious general soon passed by Si Wan. Her eyes, however, remained fixed on the figure.

For some reason, the figure paused for a moment, their gaze shifting somewhere before giving a slight, courteous nod. Si Wan followed their line of sight.

The person in the tavern seemed to meet Si Wan’s gaze, responding with a polite nod. Every movement carried an air of noble elegance that felt familiar to Si Wan. Their eyes held a probing curiosity, while the faintly upturned corners of their lips carried a trace of a smile, and an unmistakable pride lingered between their brows.

“You really were upstairs.” Si Wan murmured to herself as she gazed at the figure in the tavern.

The inscription on the bamboo grove mural was not accidental but a sincere expression of what once was. This marked the true beginning of their encounter, when the young general returned to the capital, unaware that the one whose eyes met hers was the esteemed Princess Chang.

Si Wan did not yet know the story that would unfold, but she could already sense the depth of Sheng Zhen’s feelings for that person, so profound that even in death, they remained unforgettable.

At this thought, an inexplicable, dull ache seized Si Wan’s heart. Though it was merely a dream, the stabbing pain felt so real it stole her breath.

Struggling to suppress the strange emotions, she stepped forward, intending to follow the path the young general had taken. Unintentionally, amid the clamor of the common folk, she overheard the respectful words of the princess’s attendant: “Your Highness, that is General Si, renowned for his illustrious military achievements.”

The equally young princess let out a derisive laugh, rose to her feet, and departed, heading in the opposite direction of the young general.

Turning back, Si Wan saw the princess already stepping into her palanquin, allowing only a glimpse of her veiled, elusive beauty beneath the curtain.

“You have finally returned. Years of campaigning must have been arduous,” the steward greeted at the entrance, his face beaming as he took the reins from the mounted general and handed them to a servant to lead the horse to the stable.

The general lifted her eyes, a complex and indecipherable emotion swirling within, yet all of it was suppressed beneath a layer of cold indifference. She pressed her lips into a thin line, silent for a moment, lost in thought.

Years had passed, and the characters “Si Manor” remained unchanged, yet the person she longed to see was no longer there. The desolation was so profound it nearly made her forget the carefree days of years past.

Once again, Si Wan followed this figure into the manor, where every face bore expressions of reverence and fear. They were afraid, afraid of the aura of death around her, afraid of the blood staining her spear.

Yet, she seemed utterly indifferent, her cold detachment as habitual as breathing.

Only after bathing and burning incense did the dust of travel and the stench of blood wash away. Dressed in everyday attire, her aloofness remained undiminished.

It was not until she entered the ancestral hall and saw the three wooden tablets illuminated by the eternal lamp’s glow that her facade finally cracked. As the steward closed the door behind her, a sliver of vulnerability surfaced.

Through the long, cold night, Si Wan watched the kneeling figure from behind, keeping vigil with her, her own thoughts a tangled web.

As the first light of dawn crept over the window lattice, the figure slowly rose. After three solemn bows, she left the ancestral hall.

Dressed in vibrant court robes, the general’s usual detachment was tinged with a vivid arrogance.

Under the emperor’s stern gaze from behind the beaded curtain, she merely bent her spine slightly, her pride unyielding. As the court officials sang her praises, she found the hall unbearably noisy.

When she stepped out of the court, descending the steps adorned with honors, she brushed past someone in opulent attire. The swaying pearl hairpins and the jingling of pendants caught her peripheral attention, but she did not look closely, nor did she care.

The sounds behind her faded, yet at some point, footsteps halted. She heard a voice, laced with laughter.

“General, please wait.”

She already knew the other’s identity and could no longer pretend not to hear. She had no choice but to stop as well, turn around, and bow in greeting, her tone cold as she spoke.

“Your Highness, the Eldest Princess.”

Sheng Zhen wore a polite and courteous smile on her face, much like that day, as she looked the person up and down before slightly tilting her chin, exuding an innate arrogance, and spoke.

“I have long heard of the general’s bravery, and now that I see you, you truly are a young general of remarkable stature.”

After a few words of praise, Sheng Zhen finally got to the main point.

“Today, I have sent an invitation to your residence, inviting the general to my estate to admire the flowers and to host a welcoming banquet in your honor.”

Si Wan had been by her side all along and knew that when they had stepped out earlier, several ministers had mentioned this matter.

This flower banquet, as she and Guan Yue had deduced, was essentially an ancient matchmaking event in disguise. As the central figure of this banquet, Sheng Zhen had been compelled by her father and mother to host it, with the underlying intention of subtly pairing her with the general, whose achievements overshadowed even the emperor’s, thereby curbing the general’s influence.

This also explained why Sheng Zhen had worn such an expression earlier.

Si Wan looked at the young general, wondering if he would agree.

Although he had long been aware of the matter, the general still intended to decline and spoke.

“Thank you for Your Highness’s kindness. I have long resided in the borderlands and would prefer not to taint the fragrance of Your Highness’s flowers with the scent of blood.”

Such a clear refusal was something even Sheng Zhen had not anticipated. After a moment of stunned silence, she watched as the general bowed to her once more and turned to leave, giving her no chance to react.

When Sheng Zhen regained her composure, her expression darkened abruptly. She opened her mouth to call him back, but years of upbringing reminded her that making a scene in such a place was improper. She could only let out a cold snort and speak sharply to the retreating figure.

“General, you would do well to reconsider.”

Over the next two days, the invitations sent by the Eldest Princess were, without exception, returned. Each time, the steward wore a troubled expression, but the general paid no heed once he turned away.

Having lost both parents at a young age, she had stubbornly held on in this hollowed-out residence. Her temperament had long been numbed by the mountains of corpses beneath her feet, yet she had to constantly remember the honor and disgrace of her family, making even death an unattainable luxury.

Sheng Zhen’s radiant and unrestrained demeanor was a reflection of her former self. One glance at it felt piercing to her eyes.

Si Wan watched as the general knelt once again in the ancestral hall. The closed door seemed to shut out the outside world. After lighting the incense and candles, she opened her mouth, her throat still bitter. Countless words ultimately condensed into a single phrase after she kowtowed.

“Your child is safe and well. Do not worry.”

A knock sounded at the door, and the steward’s voice came through.

“Young… young mistress.”

Hearing the steward’s hurried correction, the general shifted slightly and spoke.

“What is it?”

The steward, sounding both anxious and troubled, replied.

“The Eldest Princess has come to the residence and is waiting for you to meet her.”

Upon hearing this, the image of a figure atop a high tower flashed through the general’s mind. That person’s face grew clearer amidst the cheers.

“I will return to my room to change clothes and will join her shortly.”

Hearing her response, the steward finally breathed a sigh of relief, having feared that even the Eldest Princess’s personal visit would be met with refusal.

Sheng Zhen sat with impeccable posture, the teacup in her hands warm to the touch. She lowered her gaze slightly, staring into the tea as if lost in thought, which made the steward standing nearby tremble with apprehension.

Hearing footsteps approach, Sheng Zhen lifted her eyes, feigning a smile as she set down her teacup and spoke.

“I have brought some newly-tributed tea leaves as a gift for the General.”

As she spoke, her attendant maid moved to hand the items to the steward.

Just as the steward was about to take them, the General calmly declined.

“I am a rough man, unaccustomed to such delicacies. I must ask Your Highness to take them back.”

Once again, Sheng Zhen felt her pride wounded. Despite her usual pretense of good temper, a flicker of anger surfaced at this moment. She slapped the table beside her, sending the teacup crashing to the floor.

After the sharp sound of shattering porcelain, her voice turned cold and heavy.

“I have come in person, and you offer me such poor hospitality. Very well, I am here to address the matter of you rejecting two of my invitations.”

“I truly have no intention…”

Sheng Zhen shot him a glare, rose to her feet, and spoke coldly.

“I have no desire to host this banquet.”

Using a princess to secure the loyalty of a general, this was a tactic employed by dynasties throughout history.

Yet no one ever bothered to ask the opinions of those involved.

…