The third month in Jingdu still carried a chill, with grass growing tall and orioles flying about, peach and pear blossoms competing to bloom. Yet, the road of exile felt desolate.
Lady Wen dragged heavy chains, turning back every few steps to gaze at the bustling Jingdu.
Beside her, Wen Zhirou, the daughter of the Wen family who had been supporting her all along, advised, "Mother, don’t look anymore. As convicts now, everyone avoids us."
"Yes, even your uncle…"
The unspoken words were understood by all.
At the ten-mile pavilion, not a single person came to see them off. Once the Wen Su Marquis Estate fell into trouble, even relatives on her mother’s side offered not a single copper coin or a piece of clothing. Truly, human hearts are cold.
On the road of exile, they had to walk fifty miles every day.
Chen Shiyi didn’t mind it much. In the past, she had worked from dawn till dusk doing all sorts of chores.
But for these pampered ladies and young misses, it was different.
Before they had even walked ten miles, they began to groan and complain, suffering bitterly.
The guards escorting the exiles were no strangers to this and showed no mercy. Anyone who slacked off would be whipped, and if injured on the road, it would mean certain death.
From their conversations, Chen Shiyi learned that the person who had held a knife to her neck and forced her to block the blade was Wen Zhiheng, the Shizi of the Marquis Estate. If not for the Marquis’s downfall, he would have been the next Marquis.
He had wielded considerable power.
Now, with the family’s fortunes fallen, he remained neither humble nor arrogant, caring deeply for his family. Only she, a defiant maidservant, had to endure his threatening gaze at all times.
Chen Shiyi thought, no matter how much he threatened, it was useless. She had endured scorn and contempt all her life.
To serve this family unwillingly, especially when that man had used her as a shield—she wouldn’t even consider it.
Finally, after walking fifty miles, the sky had darkened.
Under the dusky night, the guards lit a bonfire.
The masters of the Marquis Estate huddled around the warm fire, collapsing on the ground without a care for their appearance.
Dinner was a blackened steamed bun and a bowl of thin porridge.
Starving, they paid no mind to the quality of the food, hastily stuffing it into their mouths.
Chen Shiyi sat some distance away from them. Dragging her shackles, she gathered some firewood and started her own fire.
On such a cold night, the hours ahead would be even harder to endure.
She removed her shoes and socks, finding the soles of her feet slightly reddened.
No doubt the family was suffering even more.
Sure enough, when Wen Zhiheng saw his mother’s feet blistered and bleeding, he could no longer sit still.
Shackled, he hurried over to the guards to ask for medicine.
The guards looked at him as if he were a fool.
"You’re convicts. You don’t get such privileges. Be grateful you have food. Medicine? Don’t be naive!"
Wen Zhiheng, who had always held himself high, had never been treated with such disdain. But in his current position, how could he assert himself? He had no choice but to walk away helplessly.
He approached Chen Shiyi and commanded, "Tomorrow, you will carry my mother on your back. The soles of her feet are blistered and cracked."
Chen Shiyi lowered her head and refused immediately. "I won’t."
Wen Zhiheng sneered angrily. "You dare refuse?"
"Why wouldn’t I dare?"
Wen Zhiheng glared at Chen Shiyi, who remained unmoved, then softened his tone. "If you carry my mother, I’ll do anything you ask."
Chen Shiyi looked up at Wen Zhiheng and shook her head. "You can carry her yourself."
"I’m shackled. Otherwise, why would I beg you?"
"It's not like anyone here isn't wearing chains. Besides, you have two girls over there who are older than me."
Wen Zhiheng closed his eyes and sighed.
"Forget about them…"
After that, he didn't ask Chen Shiyi for help again.
Chen Shiyi glanced at the group from a distance, remained silent for a moment, then groped her way into the darkness.
Watching the swollen legs and feet of the women, Wen Zhiheng felt utterly distressed.
When had they ever endured such hardships, exposed to the elements? Now, suddenly subjected to suffering, they were injured like this. What if something worse happened?
Suddenly, footsteps sounded behind him.
Chen Shiyi tossed the small fleabane weeds she had just gathered in front of them.
"Crush these weeds into juice and apply it to the wounds. It can reduce swelling and stop bleeding!"
After saying this, she dragged her long chains away.
Madam Wen called out from behind.
"Thank you, young lady."
The next day, their legs and feet were indeed much better. Walking was not as painful, at least bearable.
Seeing everyone's slightly improved condition, Wen Zhiheng felt somewhat relieved and slowly approached Chen Shiyi.
"Thank you."
Chen Shiyi kept her head down, focused on walking. Hearing the young master speak, she mumbled in response.
"That medicine is worth three eggs!"
Wen Zhiheng was taken aback before realizing the maid meant he should pay her!
"Alright, I owe you. Once we arrive, I'll repay you."
The spring rain fell incessantly, turning the road into a muddy mess. The four-year-old child slipped and fell several times, landing on his bottom, crying loudly, covered in mud.
The Wen family was heartbroken, especially Madam Wen, whose tears flowed like a waterfall.
The second young mistress was a delicate woman who could hardly take care of herself. Chen Shiyi had even served her beauty soup before. Now, as a weak woman carrying a child into exile, she was suffering immensely.
Not only was the Wen family struggling, but the other exiles were also complaining incessantly, and the officials escorting the prisoners were equally troubled.
The muddy road was too difficult to traverse. Their shoes were caked with mud, heavy and exhausting to lift with each step.
Chen Shiyi rested with the others on the dry wild grass.
She pulled out several handfuls of dry grass, braided them into long ropes, and wrapped them around her shoes to prevent slipping and mud.
After finishing, Chen Shiyi looked up and saw the Marquis Mansion's Eldest Son standing before her, his eyes burning with intensity.
"If you wrap grass ropes for each of us, I'll give you ten eggs."
Chen Shiyi blinked. Did he know what he was saying?
"Too many eggs will spoil before I can eat them all."
Wen Zhiheng asked patiently.
"Then what do you want?"
"I want you to stay away from me."
Wen Zhiheng turned pale with anger but could do nothing.
This maid was neither swayed by softness nor hardness, clearly unwilling to help them.
Even offering eggs didn't work.
When he returned to his spot, it wasn't long before he saw the maid follow him, squat beside Rui'er, and wrap grass ropes around his feet.
Rui'er's eyes sparkled, his little mouth curling into a smile, faint dimples appearing on his cheeks.
"Rui'er thanks you, sister."
Hearing the soft, sweet voice of the child, Chen Shiyi's eyes curved into a smile.
After resting a little longer, the exile procession set off again.
Rui'er was careful not to fall again, saving the Wen family much trouble.
Seeing that Chen Shiyi's method worked, they wanted to make their own grass ropes but didn't know how, so they gave up.
The sky grew increasingly dark, oppressive and suffocating.
The vast land stretched out, nearly devoid of travelers, with only this group of exiled individuals trudging slowly along.
Chen Shiyi was also growing weary.
Even with the straw ropes preventing his soles from slipping, the chains on his feet and the shackles on his hands were far too heavy, chafing his limbs until they ached.
Many could no longer endure, yet only half of the mandated journey had been completed.
Most of the guards had no horses to ride, walking alongside the prisoners, and they too were beginning to falter.