Spring rain is as precious as oil, drizzling all night long. By morning, the gray, overcast sky still hadn’t cleared.
Great Wei’s Eastern Palace.
The Crown Prince caressed the face of the beautiful concubine beside him, draped his robe over his shoulders, and walked out of the hall.
Eunuch Wang, who had been waiting to report, knelt and bowed: “Your Highness, last night, the Crown Princess returned to the palace at the hour of Hai after boating and admiring the lanterns.”
The Crown Prince snorted coldly: “Did she meet Shen Xiuwang?”
Eunuch Wang lowered his head: “The Crown Princess’s painted pleasure boat was moving too fast and accidentally collided with Military Governor Shen’s pleasure boat. However, the Crown Princess did not speak with him. Military Governor Shen was… being intimate with a brothel woman at the time.”
The Crown Prince clasped his hands behind his back, looked up at the broken strands of raindrops under the eaves, and revealed a playful smile: “Intimate?”
“Who is that brothel woman?”
Eunuch Wang bowed his head again: “That woman comes from a lowly background. She was sold to the Fragrant Pavilion at a young age and, after eight years of training under the madam, became the top courtesan. She is enchantingly beautiful and is said to be extremely skilled in the arts of the bedchamber, captivating Military Governor Shen utterly.”
“According to the maid Ziyu, the Crown Princess’s face turned pale when she saw it. It didn’t seem feigned.”
To catch the eye of the discerning Shen Xiuwang and even touch his person—she must truly be a beauty among beauties.
Zhao Zhen chuckled: “Whether it’s real or fake, keep watching Shen Xiuwang.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Raindrops beat against the plantain leaves under the eaves, washing away the dust from the large, glossy green leaves, leaving them fresh and renewed.
Crown Prince Zhao Zhen narrowed his eyes. Perhaps he and Prime Minister Yang had been overthinking things.
Shen Xiuwang had returned from the harsh, bitter cold of Yong City. It was only natural for him to visit pleasure houses and indulge in women for a couple of days.
Besides, he had always been fond of pleasure since his youth.
It seemed the rumors outside were true: once a man starts indulging in women, it becomes an uncontrollable flood.
It was good that Xu Yunshu saw it too, lest she occupy the position of Crown Princess while her heart remained elsewhere.
Zhao Zhen sneered coldly, turned back into the hall, and embraced the beautiful concubine to indulge in pleasure once more.
The rain fell like mist, shrouding the capital.
Su Tan returned to the Fragrant Pavilion and sat before the dressing table, applying some flesh-toned powder to cover the chastity seal on her forearm.
Raising her eyes to look at her reflection in the mirror, her lips slightly swollen, she murmured to herself: “Su Tan, oh Su Tan, what kind of sin have you committed?”
Last night’s kiss with Shen Xiuwang began abruptly and ended just as abruptly.
Fortunately, the wind rose and rain fell, so she wasn’t forced to go to the lower cabin to dance.
Later, for some reason, that lord became angry with her again, glaring and fuming. She simply slept on the nearby beauty couch.
When she woke again, the pleasure boat was empty, save for a bag of silver ingots left on the qin table.
After covering the chastity seal, Su Tan patted her cheeks and forced a smile.
“Do not rejoice over material gains, nor grieve over personal losses. Five more days—find the thing sooner, redeem my freedom sooner.”
Stay far away from that unpredictable Lord Shen.
She stood up and walked to a small, varnished table where a round ceramic basin held a small brown turtle.
Tiny, not even half the size of a palm.
Su Tan reached out and gently poked its hard shell. The little turtle stretched out its head, its sesame-sized eyes staring blankly at her.
As if recognizing her, it affectionately nuzzled her fingertip.
Su Tan laughed, picked up some bait nearby, and fed it. “Sorry, Kuaikuai, I’m late feeding you today.”
The little turtle swallowed the shrimp in one gulp, eating heartily, clearly starving.
Su Tan then offered a vegetable stem, but the little creature retracted its head, refusing to eat.
Her eyes curved into a smile as she spoke softly to it: “No picky eating. Kuaikuai must grow up quickly.”
As if understanding, the little turtle reluctantly opened its mouth.
After feeding Kuaikuai, Su Tan finally remembered to weigh the money pouch filled with silver ingots.
The silver for Mama Yue had likely been paid by Shen Xiuwang long ago—was this extra just a tip for her?
For that kiss scene?
She curled her lips slightly, unsure whether it was self-mockery or resignation.
Fine, consider it mission expenses.
For two consecutive afternoons, Su Tan treated all the girls in the building to fine wine and dishes at her own expense.
After the meals, some would stir up games of leaf cards, dice, or dominoes.
Su Tan had been at the pavilion for a long time, usually amiable and without airs. Over eight years, she had grown familiar with everyone, and recently, she had gained the favor of Military Governor Shen.
Some secretly gnashed their teeth with envy, but more wanted a share of the spoils.
So, Miss Xiujuan from one room would pull her in for a game, Miss Linghe from another would invite her for a round, followed by Zixing, Hongxiao, and others taking turns.
The girls enjoyed their freedom in the pavilion, and since no one thought of running away, Mama Yue naturally had no objections.
Back and forth, through these social interactions, Su Tan re-examined every person in the Fragrant Pavilion from top to bottom.
She became intimately familiar with every nook and cranny, every brick and seam of each room.
The thing Shen Xiuwang wanted her to find wasn’t a priceless treasure—it could easily end up in anyone’s hands.
Before she knew it, the fifth day arrived. Su Tan and Cai Wei returned to their room dejectedly after losing money in Xirong’s room.
Once the door was closed, Cai Wei took her hand, her face full of concern.
“A Wu, it’s rare for Military Governor Shen to be so generous and give you money privately. You should spend it sparingly.”
Mei Wu was perfect in every way, except she was too kind-hearted—a trait that had caused her no small amount of hardship over the past eight years.
Now that life was finally looking up, she was eagerly losing silver to the others.
Su Tan smiled, raised her hand to hold Cai Wei’s, and pulled her to sit down.
“I understand your concern for me, sister. I just thought that ‘the tallest tree catches the wind,’ so it’s better to get along with everyone first.”
She opened the dressing table drawer, took out a peony gold hairpin, and handed it to her.
“Sister, I haven’t saved anything valuable over the years. This hairpin is the most precious thing I have—I want to give it to you.”
Meng Yuan, a wealthy merchant from the west of the city, planned to pay Mama Yue a sum of silver to redeem Cai Wei. She would soon leave this place.
Su Tan was genuinely happy for her.
Cai Wei pushed it away with a wave of her hand. “A Wu, this is the prize you won as the Flower Queen. I can’t take it.”
Su Tan raised her hand and pinned it into Cai Wei’s dark, thick hair, saying earnestly, “How beautiful it looks. Once you leave the Fragrant Pavilion, never come back. When you miss me, just look at this hairpin.”
She still clung to Cai Wei’s arm as she had years ago, tilting her head to rest on her shoulder.
Softly, she whispered, “Sister, your life will only get better from now on. And so will mine.”
That late autumn, Su Tan opened her eyes and found herself transformed into a seven-year-old orphan girl fleeing famine.
Before she could even react to the shock, she was forced to follow a group of begging refugees, struggling to survive.
Coarse, tattered clothes, hemp ropes, and straw sandals sank into muddy roads, one step deep, the next shallow, stuck and unable to pull free.
She endured hunger and thirst, fighting with over a dozen others for half a hard steamed bun, bloodied and bruised just for a bite of food.
Back then, Su Tan was only seven, as thin as a stray cat, her bones wrapped in a layer of skin.
She had no family or friends to protect her, no destined background or identity after crossing over—survival became the hardest challenge.
Though thin, she couldn’t hide her large, beautiful eyes. She had no choice but to use a sharp piece of iron to cut short her tangled, messy hair, darken her cheeks, and disguise herself as a little boy.
Hiding and sneaking along the way, she followed the refugees from the desolate border town, begging all the way as she trudged toward the prosperous city.
Yet in the end, she still couldn’t escape being drugged by human traffickers and sold into a brothel.
When she regained consciousness and found herself in the brothel, Su Tan resisted like a madwoman, trying to flee.
In the end, she was pinned down by the brothel’s enforcer, who grabbed silver needles and stabbed her until she was barely breathing. Mama Yue then threw her into an icy, bone-chilling water dungeon for solitary confinement.
No food, no clothes—taming her like a wild dog.
The water dungeon was more like a well that wouldn’t drown a person, with water soaking her from the chest down until her skin swelled and flesh festered.
Even when her lower body grew numb from the soaking, she didn’t dare bend her knees. She could only lean against the slippery, moss-covered stone wall, barely supporting herself to avoid collapsing and choking to death in the water.
Su Tan only remembered that the moon that night was big and round, falling into the pitch-black water dungeon like shattered ice scattered across the pool.
She froze until she passed out several times, her body aching all over, the filthy water seeping into her wounds and between her bones.
Clenching her teeth, she shivered uncontrollably, her stomach churning with waves of cramps and spasms.
For the first time, she learned that when a person is starving to the extreme, they vomit.
Vomiting bile and bitter fluids, only to sink into another round of cramps.
She wanted to go home so badly.
She missed her parents so much.
Her mother loved watching dramas while cooking and would often burn the dishes, but her favorite sweet and sour spare ribs were never ruined.
Her father walked quickly, with long strides, but when picking her up from school or holding an umbrella for her in the rain, his steps were always light and gentle.
The tilted umbrella, his drenched shoulder, and the words he often said.
“All I want is for my Niannian to be safe and happy.”
Mother Su gave birth to Su Tan after turning thirty-two. Her childhood name was Niannian—meaning “always on one’s mind, never forgotten.”
Born into a well-off middle-class family and the only child, she was doted on endlessly by four grandparents.
Su Tan had once been a little princess soaked in honey.
After fifteen years of diligent study, she was admitted to a top university as she wished, with a bright future ahead.
But why did she have to endure all this now?
What had she done wrong?
Su Tan trembled all over, tears streaming uncontrollably down her face.
They flowed along her thin cheeks to her chin, where a few droplets gathered, trembling on the edge before finally succumbing to their weight and falling into the water with a soft “plop.”
Ripples spread in circles.
In despair, she thought, perhaps it would be better to die like this.
The moon still hung high in the pitch-black sky, indifferent and impartial, shining upon all living beings.
Su Tan recalled the scene from the day she crossed over.
The noisy, bustling amusement park, the handsome boy accompanying her with a shy smile.
After boarding the roller coaster, the car rumbled along the tracks, stirring up gusts of wind.
Terrified, she shut her eyes tightly and screamed.
Beside her, Qiao Yu covered the back of her right hand, his palm warm, shouting to comfort her: “Don’t be afraid, Niannian, I’m here.”
The wind in her ears, the overwhelming screams, and the warmth of Qiao Yu’s palm gradually faded and scattered…
Everything fell silent, as if a lifetime had passed.
The girl looked up at the round, dark well opening, her pale, gaunt face marked with five shocking red finger marks.
Suddenly, a frail figure appeared in her line of sight.
Su Tan’s eyes moved woodenly.
The person leaned over the well opening and whispered down: “Little sister, are you alright?”
“I brought you some food. Catch it.”
That person was Cai Wei, three years older than her.
She tossed her a steamed bun, with a row of tiny bite marks on it.
Probably, she had only taken one bite during mealtime and secretly saved it.
Su Tan failed to catch it, and the soft, white steamed bun fell into the water with a “plop.”
Saturated with filthy water.
Cai Wei couldn’t see the situation below, her head turning left and right as she said to her once more, “Little sister, you must live well. Only by surviving can there be hope.”
By the time Su Tan fished the steamed bun out of the water and looked up toward the top of the water dungeon, the figure was already gone.
But those words echoed in her ears: Live well.
This was the second person in this world who had said those words to her.
Once, when Su Tan couldn’t keep up with the refugees begging for food, starving and freezing, she fainted in a pile of rotten straw by the roadside.
In a state of half-consciousness, she suddenly heard the sound of urgent hoofbeats approaching.
The leader reined in his horse, pausing briefly before her, and tossed down a bag of provisions.
“Head east. Live well.”
Su Tan was so hungry that her bones felt like they were falling apart. She forced her eyelids open to look at the man.
All she saw was a man clad in Black Armor riding away into the distance, his back slender and upright.
Summoning her strength, she crawled and scrambled to pick up the provisions, hiding them in her embrace.
Her eyes scanned the surroundings warily, making sure no one had seen her, before she burrowed back into the straw nest, lying flat on her stomach. She pulled out the cakes from the bag and stuffed them into her mouth, devouring them ravenously.
Even ants cling to life.
She had to survive. Only by surviving could there be hope.
Perhaps there was still hope of returning home one day.
In the end, Su Tan clutched the steamed bun Cai Wei had thrown to her, squeezing out the filthy water with all her might, then ate it bite by bite.
The steamed bun, soaked in filthy water, was sour and foul. Mixed with her tears, it became unbearably salty.
As if she had lost her sense of taste, Su Tan chewed and swallowed, finishing every last crumb.
Eight years of hardship had passed like the wind, yet invisible stones continued to weigh on Su Tan’s heart.
Piling up year after year.
Her gaze refocused on the present.
In the room, Su Tan leaned against Cai Wei’s shoulder, her voice faint. “I only have you now, sister.”
Cai Wei’s eyes grew moist as she gently stroked Su Tan’s head, her voice hoarse. “Once I establish myself in the Meng household, I’ll find a way to gather the money to rescue you.”
But redeeming a courtesan was no easy task.
An ordinary person likely couldn’t afford the sum even in two lifetimes.
Moreover, Cai Wei was entering the Meng household as a concubine, with a principal wife above her and another concubine to contend with. Securing her own place would be difficult enough.
Su Tan silently shook her head, nestling her eyes against Cai Wei’s shoulder to hold back her tears. With a calm and detached tone, she said, “Don’t worry, sister. I’m like a weed that can grow anywhere with just a breath of spring wind. I’ll live well.”
She disliked the seductive name she was given, but the character for “weed” carried a sense of resilience.
Cai Wei let out a heavy sigh. “If all else fails, try to win over Military Governor Shen. I can see he has some interest in you.”
She held Su Tan’s hand, speaking with difficulty. “If you can charm him into needing you, and he makes an exception to take you into his mansion as a concubine someday, it would be a hundred times better than wasting away in this place.”
At least she would only have to serve one man and no longer suffer humiliation from others.
But being a concubine in the Jingning Marquis Estate was entirely different from being a concubine in the household of a wealthy merchant like Meng Yuan, which was why Cai Wei used the word “exception.”
Su Tan simply rested her head on Cai Wei’s shoulder, her eyes downcast and silent.
Working for Shen Xiuwang was already an opportunity she had seized by risking everything, a chance born from desperation.
As for anything else, she didn’t want it, nor did she dare to want it.
Her life was like duckweed, adrift and alone.
The grand mansions with their vermilion gates and embroidered curtains, the households of wealth and luxury, were also cages that trapped and devoured people.
She wrapped her arms around Cai Wei’s shoulders, murmuring softly, “Sister, I will do everything I can to survive. I hope one day I can take you to feel the wind in the desert, to admire the snow in the northwest…”
Travel the world, measuring the vast land with your own footsteps, no longer confined to this tiny cage.
Cai Wei gently stroked her hair, drifting into beautiful reverie along with her words.
She smiled knowingly: “Alright, sister believes our A-Wu can definitely do it.”
The sun slowly slanted westward, and soon the Fragrant Pavilion would once again be filled with patrons, its red curtains billowing like waves.
Shen Residence, study.
Chang Feng and Yuan Jing carried five or six food boxes, knocked on the door, and after receiving permission, walked in with gloomy expressions.
Before the rosewood desk, Shen Xiuwang stood with his back turned, examining the terrain map of the military training ground outside the city.
Hearing footsteps, he glanced over his shoulder at the two.
“What worthless things are you holding?”
Chang Feng and Yuan Jing exchanged looks, silently debating who should step forward first to answer.
Shen Xiuwang frowned, looking at Yuan Jing.
Chosen by his master, Yuan Jing had no choice but to brace himself and reply: “Young Master, ever since we entered the residence, we’ve been surrounded by several young mistresses.”
“These are all snacks they made with their own hands, repeatedly insisting we deliver them to you.”
Shen Xiuwang picked up a crumpled piece of waste paper from the desk and threw it at him, his sharp eyebrows slightly raised: “Are you my personal guard, or theirs? So obedient—don’t bother collecting next month’s salary!”
Chang Feng hid to the side, silently stifling laughter, while Yuan Jing suffered in silence.
They were all young mistresses—how could they dare offend them!
Shen Xiuwang swept his robe aside and sat down in the huanghuali wood official’s chair, casually opening a scroll of book.
“Take these down and distribute them among the subordinates. If there’s a next time, punishment will be certain.”
Yuan Jing grinned, repeatedly agreeing.
“Military Governor, this box was delivered by an attendant from the Fragrant Pavilion.” Chang Feng lifted the vermilion food box in his right hand, seeking instructions: “Shall we also take this to distribute?”
Shen Xiuwang hadn’t visited these past two days, but the silver was still sent as usual.
Mama Yue told Su Tan to be sensible and personally make some pastries to send over, hoping to win over this god of wealth.
Hearing the words “Fragrant Pavilion,” Shen Dudu’s fingers, which were flipping through the book, paused.
Suddenly, the image from that night flashed in his mind—holding the girl in the bathtub, kissing her.
He casually waved his hand, signaling them to leave.
Chang Feng, having received the order, happily walked out with Yuan Jing, carrying the pile of food.
Just as they reached the corridor, they suddenly heard a muffled voice from inside.
“That box is not to be eaten.”
What if it’s drugged? Better not harm his people.
Chang Feng and Yuan Jing exchanged puzzled glances—which box?