Jian Xiyan took her leave of Ji Mian and entered the prison of Huaxi City.
Huaxi City possessed picturesque scenery and a pleasant climate. Yet however habitable it was above, the conditions in the dungeon below were all the more severe.
This prison was built underground, and the face-hitting chill of the air made even Jian Xiyan shudder. Following her personal guards, she walked up to the woman. The woman was still suspended by iron chains, hanging entirely unsupported while her body dangled limply. The manacles biting into her wrists had rubbed the skin and flesh raw into bloody marks, and she was already completely unconscious.
Jian Xiyan frowned and ordered someone to untie her.
“Move her to a different place. We can’t just let her die here.”
The commotion of unlocking the chains was not small, and the woman being handled finally regained consciousness, at which point she was being felt for a pulse by the accompanying military physician.
“This person’s vitality has been chronically depleted; I’m afraid she won’t be able to withstand torture.”
Jian Xiyan gave an affirmative hum and had someone support the woman as they left. Passing by a cell, she glanced inside and asked in a low, husky voice:
“Whose daughter is this? Her foundation looks quite good.”
Zhang Wangniang, injured to such an extent, was still acting this unserious, drawing a soft snort from Jian Xiyan.
“You’d better mind yourself first. This person is a death row inmate; I’m afraid she won’t be joining your courtyard of singing and dancing girls.”
Zhang Wangniang, however, paused her steps at that moment. Standing outside the door, she peered far into the cell through the sparse iron bars.
“Why does this little girl look so familiar?”
“Familiar? Is there anyone you aren’t familiar with?”
“General, I’m speaking in earnest. This girl actually bears a striking resemblance to our Empress.”
Hearing this, Jian Xiyan furrowed her brows, seeming to subconsciously follow along to examine the prisoner closely for a moment.
“This matter has nothing to do with you.”
The next day, Jian Xiyan brought Ji Mian in, and that death-sworn retainer accompanied them back once more, following quietly behind without uttering a word.
The atmosphere between the two of them was rather peculiar. Jian Xiyan was busy to the point of being burnt to a crisp and had no mind to care about such things.
Inside the interrogation room, the girl was bound tightly with five-flower ties to a wooden chair. She bore injuries on her body, but one could tell she had received medical treatment; ultimately, it was not fatal.
Jian Xiyan sat to one side and said emotionlessly:
“Clean her up, especially her face.”
After washing up, the girl looked delicate and pretty. Although her face was youthful, an air of imperial authority ran through her brows and eyes.
Jian Xiyan had never met the Empress of Zhesha in person, but she vaguely felt that this girl was no simple character.
Lin Qingye, who had remained silent for a long time, spoke up at this point.
“She does look very much alike, but I have never seen the Empress have such a daughter.”
Jian Xiyan was somewhat surprised; how could an ordinary person have ever seen the Empress?
“How has Lady Lin seen her?”
“Previously, while wandering abroad, I once followed a merchant caravan into the main city of Zhesha and caught a glimpse of her from afar.”
Zhesha maintained an open folk culture and frequently held grand celebrations. The Empress of Zhesha, Huo Ran, loved to share the joy with the common people, often bringing her own offspring to set up massive running-water banquets to feast the populace.
Zhesha heavily favored commerce and was flush with wealth; merchant caravans indeed had plenty of opportunities to catch sight of the Empress.
“If that’s truly the case, could this person have been sent by the Empress?”
“I am nothing of the sort.”
The girl spoke word by word, propping up her body as she struggled to climb out from that pile of straw, her torso hunched over as she found it utterly impossible to straighten her back. Thus, she could only strain to lift her head and lock gazes with the three seated people.
Lin Qingye eyed the girl’s expression.
“Indeed, why would the Empress send her own daughter out to take risks?”
With those words, the girl’s expression instantly plummeted as if dropping into an ice cave, and the look she directed at Lin Qingye was as though she wanted to devour her alive.
Ji Mian watched the other’s struggling movements.
The girl’s upper body shifted, yet her lower body showed not the slightest movement. Her clothes had not been changed, and she could only see that all the fabric across the other’s body was stained a bloody blur, prompting her to unconsciously knit her brows upon noticing that the girl’s legs seemed impaired.
“I am a disciple of the Xuanwu Sect, sent on a mission solely to slay this female demon.”
“It has nothing whatsoever to do with Huo Ran!”
It took Ji Mian a moment to react, realizing that “female demon” referred to herself. None of the present company offered any rebuttal.
“So then, what is your name?”
“Huo Wanyin.”
“Your surname is Huo as well, and you still claim it has nothing to do with Huo Ran?”
Jian Xiyan deliberately probed at her sore spot, while Huo Wanyin stubbornly stiffened her neck without answering, her eye sockets burning red. Her appearance actually made it look as though the three of them were bullying her.
The injuries all over this girl’s body were unmistakable; within just this brief span, she was already breathing heavily and lapsed into unconsciousness.
Jian Xiyan had always possessed a soft heart, and feeling that the questioning had reached its limit, she took Ji Mian and the other woman away.
Ji Mian was still deep in thought when she was abruptly pulled along by Lin Qingye. The prison was terribly damp and cold, and unable to help it, Ji Mian sneezed. Just as she reached out to pull out a handkerchief to wipe herself, her hand was intercepted and grasped, warm body heat transmitting over.
Ji Mian felt somewhat perplexed, turning her gaze to meet Lin Qingye’s deep, fathomless eyes. Under the dim lighting, the other’s eyes appeared even darker, concealing troubled thoughts. Right now, they flashed with a worried radiance, and beneath that mask, it was as though her brows were tightly furrowed.
Ji Mian locked gazes with her, yet the other showed no intention of offering an explanation, perhaps because she had words she wished to speak in private.
Ji Mian did not let go of her hand, and her body gradually recovered a trace of warmth as a result.
Back at the county magistrate’s estate, with only the two of them left alone, Lin Qingye finally removed her mask.
This mask was originally just a toy of rather mediocre quality. Having worn it all day, red impressions had been left printed across Lin Qingye’s face.
Ji Mian stared in a daze at the red marks on her face, watching her lips part and move.
“You walked too fast, and I forgot to tell you.”
“Zhesha is cold at night. Your constitution is weak during this period, so you must guard against the chill.”
“Aren’t you uncomfortable wearing a thing like this?”
Lin Qingye didn’t react for a moment, only long after realizing this was a reference to the mask.
“Don’t let it rub out any marks.”
As she spoke, Ji Mian scampered back to her room and emerged carrying some sort of object.
“If this face of yours gets disfigured, my crime will be enormous.”
“Heh, do you like this face very much?”
Ji Mian spoke the honest truth.
“I suppose there’s no one who wouldn’t.”
Ji Mian hadn’t taken Lin Qingye’s admonition to heart, and by the next day, she couldn’t even get out of bed.
Having lost her internal energy, her physical resilience was much poorer. Having caught a chill in the dungeon yesterday, she now felt an aching all over her body, devoid of strength and too listless to move.
As her consciousness blurred, Lin Qingye’s figure floated before her eyes.
Why was it that every time she felt unwell, this person was always by her side?
Even when the person wasn’t there, Ji Mian would subconsciously think of her.
Ji Mian flicked her heavy eyelids open; her vision was hazy, and that crisp, refreshing fragrance belonging to Lin Qingye surged into her nasal passages.
Lin Qingye was gripping her wrist, the cool temperature transmitting through their physical contact, yet Ji Mian felt as though she were burning up.
She pulled her hand back, appearing as though she could hardly endure it, her brows tightly knitted. The breath she exhaled was burning hot; her cold-induced affliction had already become extremely severe, yet this person stubbornly avoided medical treatment.
Lin Qingye unusually exerted a bit of strength, pressing her back down.
“Be obedient.”
She tucked the quilt in snugly around her once more before departing.
Unwilling, Ji Mian wanted to catch hold of that fluttering hem of clothing, but her hand could not be raised, leaving her able only to watch helplessly as the figure drifted away. A strange sense of emptiness opened up in her heart, and she felt as though her emotions were out of control, her reliance on Lin Qingye having reached its absolute peak.
It felt like her own consciousness, yet also somehow not entirely so.
She, or rather the original host, seemed to harbor an inseverable emotional attachment toward this person named Lin Qingye.
Lin Qingye went to brew medicine for Ji Mian, and upon returning, she found Ji Mian curled up tightly inside the bedding, shrunk into a ball.
Gazing at that figure, Lin Qingye felt a complex mix of emotions stir within her chest. Softening her tone, she gently patted Ji Mian’s shoulder.
Ji Mian turned her face over, the corners of her eyes tinted red, looking as though she wanted to cry yet fighting desperately to hold it back, presenting a somewhat comical sight.
For a moment, Lin Qingye was stunned, her hands freezing in place.
“I didn’t leave. You need to drink your medicine, don’t you? How will you get better if you don’t drink it?”
A restless agitation stirred in her heart. The events of that night when the illness flared up surfaced in her mind; deep within her soul, something seemed on the verge of erupting.
She set down the medicine bowl and reached out, using her fingertips to gently touch Ji Mian’s face. Her fingertips felt feverish, inexplicably scorching.
Ji Mian’s face was very soft and still somewhat warm to the touch. When they made contact, it felt as though a flower had bloomed and burst open within her palm.
Lin Qingye’s hand lingered suspended in mid-air, remaining there without feeling any fatigue.
She raised her eyes to look into Ji Mian’s eyes.
Because her internal energy was completely lost, the oppressive aura surrounding Ji Mian had vanished. The scarlet blood-red of her pupils had dimmed, and her gaze was hazy, brimming with moisture, presenting an utterly pitiable appearance.
Ji Mian remained completely silent, gently biting her lip to swallow back her whimpering sounds. Ashamed of her own vulnerability, she even turned her head back away.
“Ji Mian, drink the medicine and you’ll be well.”
Perhaps she herself had never noticed that her voice could turn this soft, purely for the sake of setting someone’s mind at ease.
Ji Mian was likely just suffering too much; people always grew fragile when ill.
Lin Qingye’s movements were stiff and her facial expression wooden, yet her heart felt as though it were being pierced by needles, dense, continuous, and fragmented.
She could not make sense of her own thoughts, nor could she fathom Ji Mian’s mind.
Tears, too, came in many varieties: sorrowful, joyful, aggrieved, and painful.
Distinguishing between them was no easy task, and Lin Qingye had no way of knowing which kind Ji Mian’s tears were. She only knew that as she watched Ji Mian’s tears, those tiny, crystalline droplets of water, they struck her like a massive boulder, leaving her completely helpless and at a loss.
She truly did not understand this person before her.
In the evening, Lin Qingye went to deliver medicine to Ji Mian once more. On this occasion, Ji Mian’s condition was vastly improved; her body temperature had stabilized, her brows and eyes were relaxed, and she was sleeping soundly and sweetly.
Lin Qingye paused beside the bed for a moment, groundlessly tracing the outline of Ji Mian’s brows and eyes with her gaze before departing in silence.
Not long after Lin Qingye left, Ji Mian abruptly snapped her eyes open. The scarlet red deep within her gaze regained a trace of murderous intent, though she herself appeared somewhat bewildered.
She could not articulate what she was thinking, nor could she explain what the other person was thinking.
The next day, Jian Xiyan strode in with anxious haste. One could tell her pace was hurried and she had lost a degree of her composure, though she still hadn’t forgotten basic etiquette.
Ji Mian had not yet fully recovered, muffling a few coughs behind her hand as her frail appearance looked as though a gust of wind could blow her away.
If Jian Xiyan hadn’t witnessed her in the act of slaughtering people, she might genuinely have believed it.
The very existence of those eyes belonging to Ji Mian was the ultimate proof. No matter how weak or affable this person appeared, her sins could never be erased.
“Leader, Zhesha has sent an official missive within our borders.”
Supporting her head, Ji Mian accepted it, and upon making out the script across the page, she was instantly jolted into alertness.
Huo Ran was hosting a banquet to invite Jian Xiyan into their territory.
This was transparently a feast at Hongmen.
And the banner it flew under was still that pretense of shaking hands and making peace.