No driver was needed at the reins; four magnificent demon-horses paced forward steadily of their own accord.

Within the opulent carriage sat only one person — and one divine spirit.

Shen Yi sat with his eyes closed, feigning sleep.

Compared to his last trip to the capital, he'd left the grim black armor behind this time, dressed instead in nothing but a clean, neatly pressed black robe.

Reporting to the War Temple carried no dress code requirements — that privilege belonged only to a province's General.

Jiang Yuanhua drifted, insubstantial, in the seat across from him. "My, the General's in such a hurry, is he? I'd have thought you'd stay on at least another two months."

By his own reckoning, with Jiang Qiulan's path infant still damaged, she should have lingered a while longer in Qingzhou City — and he'd assumed these two young people would take the chance to enjoy some hard-won peace and quiet together.

Tsk.

Jiang Yuanhua shook his head. As for whatever quiet feelings Lin Baixi might be nursing... she was still so young, she really ought to put her mind toward cultivation. Matters of the heart were better left to Senior Sister, for now.

"Ugh."

Shen Yi shifted slightly in his seat. He really, genuinely did not want to share a carriage with this chatterbox.

The man was a divine spirit, plain and simple — he could have just floated through the sky, and instead insisted on aping mortals by riding in a carriage.

"Oh, right — actually, I'm still rather curious. What exactly happened between you and Qiulan, last time the two of you went to the imperial capital?"

Ever since losing his body, Jiang Yuanhua's shamelessness had only grown thicker — the sort of question that would have infuriated anyone else, and here he was, asking it outright.

"..."

Shen Yi opened his eyes and shot him a silent glance.

Jiang Yuanhua suddenly felt a faint chill run through him, his face creasing in confusion.

It would only make sense for Qiulan to resent him — he'd known something ridiculous had gone on…