Sector 7 of Lungmen.
Chen Zhaoming checked the list while paying Shopkeeper You of Youji Grain Store—money in one hand, goods in the other.
"Here's two hundred jin of rice and eight hundred jin of flour. Boss Chen, give it a look over."
"Heh, there's no need. Shopkeeper You is known for his integrity—everyone on Fulao Street in the food trade knows that. In times like these, the fact that you're willing to sell me this much rice and flour means you're taking no small risk. I'll count it as I, Chen, owing you a favor."
"Haha, easy to say, easy to say."
The owner of Youji Grain Store was a plump middle-aged man. After hearing Chen Zhaoming's words, he smiled so broadly his eyes narrowed into slits.
Since ancient times, firewood, rice, oil, and salt had been the lifeblood of a nation, and a mobile city was no exception. The fact that Youji Grain Store could secure a place for itself in Lungmen meant Shopkeeper You naturally had his own way of dealing with people.
Ordinary commoners and small-time street vendors were beneath his notice. But anyone in the lower city with even a halfway decent information network knew that the Chen siblings who sold fishballs on Fulao Street were not to be trifled with.
The brother wielded exquisite swordsmanship.
The sister's arts were unmatched—one spell from her could flood half a street.
Some people said they were connected to Lungmen's governor, Wei Yenwu, after all, they both had dragon horns growing from their heads.
Others said they were gang leaders of some kind, since no one had ever seen anyone come to their shop to collect protection money.
There were even those who claimed they were scions of a noble house from Yan's capital who had run away together in defiance of an arranged marriage, which was why they had ended up in Lungmen opening a fishball shop.
Shopkeeper You did not believe Lungmen was truly about to descend into chaos. Still, if a few small favors could win him the goodwill of two capable swordsmen and casters, why would he not do it?
As for Chen Zhaoming, he took Chen Zhaoqian to two more grain stores, and by the end had loaded a total of two thousand jin of grain, nearly filling the cart bed behind them.
Fortunately, it was already late at night, and the grain had been covered with a gray cloth. Ordinary passersby could not tell what was underneath.
Besides—
You were just driving a three-wheeler. No matter how valuable the cargo was, it was not as if you were hauling around gold bars.
The journey passed without incident.
By the time Chen Zhaoming and Chen Zhaoqian brought everything back to Fulao Street in Sector 6, it was already ten at night. Chen Zhaoqian yawned. After running around all day, she really was tired.
Just then—
"Hm? Why are there a bunch of children up ahead?"
"Probably some kids who snuck out to play."
Chen Zhaoming replied casually while unloading rice and flour into the shop. The public order on Fulao Street was not as good as in the upper city, but even so, by lower-city standards it was fairly decent.
"They'll probably head home once they've had their fun."
"True enough."
Chen Zhaoqian yawned again.
"Brother, I'm going back to my room."
"Mm."
These past few days, the life of running a fishball shop had not left his body feeling tired. On the contrary, it made what had once been a dull, lifeless existence feel vivid and meaningful.
Back when he had been the princess's consort, he had not needed to do anything, nor think about anything. He only had to take care of the princess and the two children, and he could live in comfort and plenty.
And yet it was precisely something so simple that he had failed to do.
He could not make the princess forget a dead man, and so he and the princess could never truly live together in mutual respect.
He could not earn the princess's trust, and without that trust, he had no way, as her husband, to step forward and protect her when she quarreled with her brother.
Unable to protect the princess, he naturally looked in the children's eyes like a coward who could only stand there and watch his wife be bullied. An unqualified husband—and so he could never earn the children's trust either.
So he left.
With the power of the Chronicle of Time, he cast aside that so-called life of wealth and status.
And became a free man.
Selling fishball noodles from dawn to night every day was certainly no easy life, but that was only bodily fatigue. Compared to the spiritual torment of being the princess's consort, it was infinitely better.
Just then, Chen Zhaoqian's voice came from the bath.
"Brother, could you hand me the soapberry?"
There was the faintest trace of tension in her voice.
"We ran out of the old one. I bought a new one earlier—it's on the table."
"Oh."
The so-called soapberry was basically the equivalent of shampoo in this era. It could be used to wash hair, dishes, and clothes alike, and was a common household cleaning item for ordinary people.
In Lungmen's upper city, there were probably more modern shampoos and body washes, but those were still luxuries, far from something every household had.
Lungmen still had a long road ahead before it would develop into the international metropolis it would become in the future. And if one seized the right opportunities during that process, one could ride the wind and become a dragon.
And even if not, there was always the chance to use the Chronicle of Time to rewrite one's fate.
Chen Zhaoming felt that his first use of the Chronicle had been too rash. Many of its rules had only gradually become clear to him after he had already used it.
The Chronicle of Time altered the past.
The greater the impact of the past he changed, the greater the resulting deviation would naturally be.
But what if he only changed something that had happened yesterday?
Chen Zhaoming did not believe that a single day's difference could create any truly massive change in the world.
Then would the cost of using the Chronicle of Time also be very small?
No matter what, the Chronicle was still in its cooldown state. Once that period ended, he would know for sure.
Thinking this, Chen Zhaoming picked up the soapberry from the table and walked toward the bath.
When he had first bought this house, it had not been because he wanted to open a fishball shop here. It had been because he wanted a real home for himself and Chen Zhaoqian, not merely a temporary place to stay.
Yan people were like that—they always felt that only after owning a home of their own could they stop feeling rootless.
As for Chen Zhaoqian, he had always treated her more like the daughter of a neighboring family whom he had brought along to see the wider world.
She always called him "Brother, Brother," until it almost felt as though he really did have a younger sister.
After all, Chen Zhaoqian was a dragonkin like him, with similar hair color and eyes, and her small stature only added to the impression. If they went outside and told people she was his younger sister, probably no one would doubt it.
"Zhaoqian, I've left the soapberry at the door."
She was, after all, a proper young lady on the verge of turning eighteen. Never mind that he was not truly her brother—even if he were, they ought to have learned to keep proper distance long ago.
And yet, the moment Chen Zhaoming bent down, he heard the bath door creak open. Hot steam billowed out in waves.
His gaze fell to the floor, and he saw a pair of snowy white feet step out—softly curved like willow branches under moonlight, their skin fine and pale, her toes rounded and neat, probably smaller than his palm if he held them.
Chen Zhaoqian had always been short, and her build was delicate and petite. If Chen Zhaoming had not watched her grow up from childhood, then upon first seeing her, he might well have mistaken her for a girl still attending elementary lessons.
"Brother~ do I look good?"
Chen Zhaoqian's voice was soft, as hazy and drifting as the mist itself, as if it were enticing something out into the open.
Chen Zhaoming was not an idiot.
At this point, Chen Zhaoqian was not merely hinting at it—she was stating it outright.
And when he thought of her usual behavior around him, the girl's feelings could not have been more obvious.
Chen Zhaoming could only struggle a little longer.
"Zhaoqian, you aren't eighteen yet."
"Did you forget, Brother? Once midnight passes tonight, I will be eighteen. Old enough to talk about marriage."
"There are some choices in life that only come once."
"Brother, don't you like me? Is it because I'm too short? Do you prefer tall women, like that woman from the shop during the day?"
"I may be rather greedy."
"In Yan, it isn't as though having multiple wives and concubines is forbidden. Besides, the Chen family has already declined, and I'm small—having children might be hard on me. As long as Brother can afford it, I don't mind if you keep a few women outside as well."
"..."
Now that Chen Zhaoqian had gone this far, if Chen Zhaoming still kept hesitating and refusing, it would only make him seem ungrateful.
After going through that unhappy marriage, Chen Zhaoming had already understood something.
Rather than marry a woman who did not love him, it was far better to marry a woman who did.
In Yan, a woman's chastity was more important than anything.
Otherwise, after Wei Yenwu's sister became pregnant out of wedlock, why would he have gone to such lengths to find someone to take the blame?
Chen Zhaoqian was willing to go this far for him—how could he reject her? How could he possibly reject her?
And besides, did he truly not like Chen Zhaoqian?
If he disliked her, then how could he have brought her with him and lived in Lungmen with her for an entire year?
"All right."
Having reached this point, Chen Zhaoming no longer hesitated. He straightened up, lowered his head to look at the girl before him, and a softness entered his eyes.
"After the New Year, we'll return to Baizao. I only hope Uncle and Aunt won't glare at me too much when they hear I want to marry their daughter."
"They definitely won't!"
The moment she heard his answer with her own ears, Chen Zhaoqian grew so happy she nearly jumped up on the spot.
"Hmph. Brother's just a dummy, making me spell it out so clearly. Father and Mother already knew long ago! When we go back, all they want is for us to at least have already gotten our marriage certificate—so we don't end up like that Princess Yan and get pregnant before marriage!"
"Wait—so in your eyes, I'm that kind of person?"
"Hmph, who knows? You can know a face but not a heart. Heehee."
Chen Zhaoming had never expected that less than a month after his "divorce," he would be heading straight into marriage again—and with the childhood companion he had grown up beside.
But he could say with certainty that what he felt now was completely different from what he had felt when he had been forcibly drafted into becoming a prince consort.
His heart was full of joy.
It was as though his body, battered and bloodied by that previous marriage, had suddenly been infused with fresh blood, restoring it to life.
"Then when are we going to register the marriage?"
"Ehh? Brother's that impatient? Don't tell me you've wanted to eat me up and wipe your mouth clean this whole time?"
Chen Zhaoqian hugged herself and looked at him like a little white rabbit spotting a big bad wolf. Coupled with the fact that she was still in her bathrobe, Chen Zhaoming could only awkwardly rub his nose.
Fair enough. He had been a bit too hasty.
"Then tomorrow?"
"Eh?"
"What do you mean, 'eh'? Of course registering the marriage should be done as soon as possible!"
Seeing Chen Zhaoqian speak so confidently made Chen Zhaoming realize he had been played. He reached out and firmly kneaded her cheeks.
"If you tease me again next time, I won't just be pinching your face."
"If not my face, then where would you knead?"
"You little brat. You sound like you're looking forward to it."
"..."
Time would gradually wash certain things away—
memories, and the trace of guilt buried in one's heart.
That was, of course, assuming no one woke them up again.
Knock knock.
Suddenly, a knocking sound came from outside the shop.
"Lungmen Guard Department. Open up, please!"
...
-------
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