Feng City leaned against a long sweep of mountains. Cut off by stone ridges and far from any major water source, it had suffered water scarcity since ancient times. The people relied on rainwater collected in cisterns, and whenever drought came, brows furrowed and prayers rose.
Now the canal team had arrived. Lord Xie Lei welcomed them personally, pinning his hopes on this project to ease the suffering of his people.
Cang Yuan led the team in—yet with fewer familiar faces.
The four Ding brothers had once been his most trusted subordinates, but this time only the youngest, Ding Yuhao, remained by his side. The reason was simple: the eldest sister-in-law was about to give birth to her second child; the second sister-in-law was nearing delivery with her first; the third had only just conceived and was plagued by severe morning sickness. The three elder brothers insisted on staying home to guard their wives and refused to travel far. Cang Yuan was helpless, but understanding—so he allowed it.
Thus, on this trip to Feng City, only Ding Yuhao followed.
After everyone was settled, Ding Yuhao produced a scroll of blueprints in the council chamber and presented it with reverent care.
"Lord Cang, this was drawn by my younger sister in her spare time. Lord Lin Lie has also looked it over—he helped revise it and added notes. Perhaps it may be of use to the canal works."
Cang Yuan arched a brow and unfolded the scroll. On the page was a massive wheel-like mechanism—wooden shafts connected to gears, turning as it stepped through water. Neat handwriting marked angles, proportions, flow rate, torque. Beneath it, a striking annotation read:
"Can lift water ashore, guide it into canals, and irrigate fields."
In the candlelight, Cang Yuan's fingertip traced the lines slowly. A rare glint flashed in his eyes.
"…This design solves our urgent need."
Ding Yuhao said proudly, "My sister calls it a waterwheel."
The candle flame flickered, and the lines on the blueprint seemed to come alive.
Cang Yuan tapped the table lightly, his voice steady—yet carrying an unusual spark of excitement.
"Feng City lies far from water. I was still wondering how to bring water here—yet this… this answers it. If we can build these waterwheels, we can use the river's force to lift clean water from the low valley up to the high ground, then divide it into channels through the city."
A flicker of pride rose in Ding Yuhao's eyes, though he still bowed his head politely.
"To contribute even a little for the people is my sister's honor. She always said her sketches were only for amusement—who would've thought they'd be truly useful?"
Cang Yuan rolled the blueprint shut and looked toward the dark mountain silhouettes beyond the window.
"This is not amusement. It's a sound strategy. The canals of Feng City may depend on this method to be completed."
Silence settled over the council chamber.
Everyone realized it at once—
This arduous canal project might open an entirely new path because of this single sheet of paper.
Cang Yuan's finger moved along the lines again. His tone was composed, but the excitement in it was undeniable.
"This city is far from water—its canal work is ten times harder than elsewhere. If we rely solely on manpower to cut channels, even if we finish them, we can't guarantee steady flow. But if we set this waterwheel at the river in the low valley, use the current to drive the paddles and lift the water into elevated troughs—then divide it into canals—"
His gaze swept the room.
"—we can bring water into the city, irrigate fields, and sustain the people."
The craftsmen's eyes shone. Someone couldn't help whispering an awed exhale.
Warmth surged in Ding Yuhao's chest. He stepped forward quickly.
"My lord, we can have the carpenters carve the wheel, the smiths cast the axle, and the masons build the troughs. Each does their part—within months, it can take shape."
Cang Yuan nodded and pushed the blueprint forward, issuing crisp orders.
"Carpenters—shape the wheel from timber. Diameter no less than two zhang. Smiths—cast axle sleeves and iron nails, durable enough for long use. Masons—go to the river first, build the foundation and stabilize the platform, then raise the elevated trough."
He pointed to the water-dividing section.
"Install a wooden sluice here—one path into the city, one into the fields. It must adjust for both drought and flood."
The room held its breath for a beat—then responded in unison.
"We obey, my lord!"
The next day, the worksite roared to life.
In the mountain valley, flames flickered. Workers heated the cliff face with fire, then doused it with cold water—stone cracked apart with explosive pops, debris spraying. The sound of chisels never stopped. Sweat and dust mingled into a single harsh scent.
By the river, carpenters heaved together to mount the massive wheel onto its axle. Blacksmiths hammered and rang, fastening iron teeth and nails.
Day and night traded places.
At last—a towering waterwheel stood like a monument beside the water.
On the day it was to be turned, the people gathered at the river before dawn.
"Push!"
With a craftsman's shout, the great wheel groaned—and began to rotate. Water was lifted step by step by the paddles, pouring down the wooden troughs with a thunderous rush.
Clear springwater surged into the newly cut canal through the dividing sluice, roaring into the city like a living thing.
Children chased it along the banks. Women's eyes reddened. Even old farmers, faces lined by wind and hardship, dropped to their knees and kowtowed, crying hoarsely—
"Thank the heavens! Thank the heavens!"
When the first waterwheel turned, and the first stream entered the canal, the city erupted in cheers like a tide. Young and old alike gathered, and hope—long absent—lit in every heart.
The canal work was not yet complete. Several more waterwheels still had to be built.
But that first river of water flowing into the city was enough to lift spirits sky-high.
That evening, Lord Xie Lei was overjoyed and held a grand banquet to honor Cang Yuan and his party.
The hall blazed with lamplight. The scent of roasted beast bones mingled with fine wine. Xie Lei smiled broadly and raised his cup.
"If not for Lord Cang leading this effort, the people of Feng City would still be staring at the sky, begging for rain. This canal project will benefit us for generations!"
Everyone raised their cups. Cang Yuan lifted his only slightly—calm as ever, yet he did not refuse the lord's hospitality.
During the feast, Xie Lei clapped his hands.
"Come, come. These are my children. Let them meet you all."
First stepped forward his eldest daughter, Xie Wenyun. She offered a dignified bow, yet her gaze flicked—almost unconsciously—toward Cang Yuan, sending a ripple through her quiet heart. Candlelight made her look especially graceful.
Next came the second son, Xie Wenxuan—handsome and confident. He introduced himself with a clasped fist, his eyes carrying a faint arrogance unique to youth.
The youngest, Xie Wenyang, only fifteen or sixteen, was the most outspoken. He stared at Cang Yuan and blurted—
"So the lord who builds canals is actually this handsome?!"
The hall burst into laughter. Xie Lei could only scold, "Watch your manners!"
Cang Yuan's expression did not change; he merely nodded. Yet for some reason, the tips of his ears reddened—so faintly it was almost impossible to see.
As the atmosphere warmed, Xie Lei raised his cup again.
"The canal work is only halfway done, but this first waterwheel is a good omen. Once we raise several more, Feng City's water troubles will be solved! When that day comes—we'll drink together again!"
Cheers echoed. Cups clinked. Wine and laughter braided together, mirroring the city's long-awaited hope.
Xie Wenxuan approached with his cup, smiling with a young man's pride, his voice a touch too loud.
"Lord Cang, I've long heard you're extraordinary both in war and in governance. But… canal work is not the battlefield. Are you truly able to endure it?"
The words sounded polite—yet carried a subtle, pointed disdain.
Cang Yuan lifted his eyes. One sweep of his gaze was like clear water over ice.
He drank in one motion, set his cup down with a firm tap, and spoke with steady certainty.
"Canal work is bitter, but it benefits the people. Whether I can endure has nothing to do with battle formations—nor with someone else's doubt."
Xie Wenxuan's throat tightened. The pressure in that calm voice was like a mountain; it crushed his rebuttal before it could form. His face flushed, and he could not find a single word to answer.
The youngest son, Xie Wenyang, remained the liveliest. He scooted close, eyes wide with curiosity.
"Lord Cang, you really don't look like someone who builds canals! I thought canal builders were all broad-shouldered, thick-waisted brutes!"
Laughter erupted again.
Xie Lei coughed awkwardly. "Enough—no rudeness!"
But Xie Wenyang only scratched his head, still fascinated.
"But it's true! My lord, you're more handsome than the heroes in my sister's picture books!"
This time, even Xie Wenyun had to cough lightly, unable to hide the blush warming the tips of her ears.
Cang Yuan remained composed and answered evenly.
"Those who build canals are no different from heroes. Both run for the people's sake."
Yet amid the lively feast, Xie Wenyun's eyes kept being drawn—again and again—to the man seated across the table.
His robe was plain in color. His brows and eyes were cool and clean-cut. His manner was steady. Even in the midst of noise, he carried a stillness like water that would not ripple.
Candlelight traced the sharp line of his profile. The shadow of his lashes, cast on his cheek, was inexplicably… alluring.
Xie Wenyun lightly pressed her fingers to her teacup and sighed inwardly.
This Lord Cang… he looks almost delicate as a blossom—three parts more beautiful than a woman. A person like this… surely has no shortage of secret admirers.
A faint bitterness rose in her chest.
She lowered her eyes instinctively, trying to hide it—yet a smile she didn't even realize appeared at the corners of her lips.
Then her heart jolted; her fingers slipped, and her tea nearly spilled. She quickly lowered her lashes, pretending to focus on the tea—but the tips of her ears had already turned a soft red.
Cang Yuan's eyes shifted slightly. He said nothing. He only tapped the table once—lightly—then looked away, calm as ever on the surface.
After the banquet, the hall still reeked of wine. Many guests were already drunk, helped away by servants.
Cang Yuan held his liquor well, but he had no desire to linger in the noise. He wandered outside to let the night wind clear some of the wine from his head.
Rounding a side courtyard, he halted—
In the moonlight, someone leaned against an old tree, head tipped back, drinking straight from a jug with bold abandon.
Cang Yuan narrowed his eyes.
It was Xie Wenyun—the same woman who had been so dignified and gentle at the banquet. Now her hair had loosened, her skirt slightly disheveled. She looked like a completely different person.
He hesitated, considering turning away.
But she had already noticed him. She sprang upright with startling sharpness.
"Hm?" Her eyes were hazy, yet her smile was bright and frank. "This young master is very handsome—come, let your big sister steal a kiss!"
Before the last word fell, she grabbed his sleeve, rose onto her toes—
and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
Cang Yuan froze, eyes suddenly in chaos.
—He was always quick with teasing words, yet he never crossed the line. Never. And now, a woman he had only just met had so brazenly… taken liberties with him.
"Y—You…" He tried to speak.
But Xie Wenyun had already tugged him down to sit, her hand still gripping the wine jug.
"Tell me," she said, eyes shining with stubborn drunken fire, "why must a woman be trapped in a household her whole life? I'll tell you a secret—I've wanted to be a swordswoman since I was little. Carry a blade, roam the world… how free would that be?"
When she grew emotional, she waved her hand. Wine splashed, glittering under the moon like scattered starlight.
She pressed her lips together, lifted her cup, and drank it down in one swallow. Her eyes were bright beyond reason.
"If I could be a swordswoman—travel the four directions, help the weak, uphold justice—how much happier would that be than being locked in a courtyard, listening to rules and etiquette?"
She laughed first, self-mocking.
"But it's only a joke. A city lord's daughter… dreaming of the martial world."
Cang Yuan watched her quietly, something stirring uncomfortably in his chest.
He had never imagined that this noblewoman—so proper by day—hid a dream so similar to his own youth.
Slowly, he spoke, his voice carrying more weariness than her laughter.
"When I was young, I also wanted to roam the world. To see mountains and rivers for ten thousand miles, to taste every flavor life could offer. But later…"
His gaze dimmed.
"My home was destroyed. My people died. That impulse… went cold long ago."
Xie Wenyun stiffened, speechless.
This calm, gentle man—he had once dreamed the same dream. Only she was still imprisoned by her identity, while his dream had been crushed into dust by brutality.
Her throat tightened. She asked softly, "Then… do you still want to see it again?"
Cang Yuan looked at her. A faint curve rose at his lips—playful on the surface, yet hiding something deep.
"If I could walk with certain people… perhaps it wouldn't be impossible."
Xie Wenyun didn't answer. Her eyes were unfocused, her smile bright as sparks.
She leaned close, staring at him. Half teasing, half drunken.
Then she blinked and added with a little scoff—
"Really handsome."
Cang Yuan's throat tightened. Before he could react—
she leaned in again and planted another quick peck on his cheek.
Cang Yuan went rigid, as if struck by lightning.
For once, the man who was always silver-tongued could not produce a single word. His ears burned. His chest churned.
"Haha…" Xie Wenyun stumbled back a few steps, gripping the wine jug, then turned away with a carefree, swaggering laugh as she wandered deeper into the courtyard, unsteady on her feet.
Under the moon, only Cang Yuan remained seated, stunned, his cheek still marked by those two light kisses.
He felt both embarrassed and irritated—yet, inexplicably, a faint tremor stirred in his heart.
After a long while, he finally muttered in a low voice:
"…I've been taken advantage of by a young lady. Twice."
The night wind swept over him, cool and clean—
yet it could not soothe the mess in his heart.