Yun Jiuqing raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Well, it seems you were right. Heaven has sent an omen in your favor. They’re afraid the city folk and the civil and military officials will come to their senses and oppose your exile, so they want us to leave before anyone can react, right?”
Yun Jiuqing had been busy in the Space without any time passing in the outside world, which meant there was still about half an hour before the agreed-upon mao hour.
Wang Jingkang couldn’t meet her gaze, his guilt showing, and he was pushing for an early departure—clearly someone had given him a harsh order at the last minute.
“The Emperor’s word is law; he cannot change his decree so easily. And they went through all the trouble of pinning the crime of killing our father on me and banishing me to Bei Huang—they would never give that up. Leaving early is fine. Every moment we stay here, Nangu Ying faces greater danger.”
Xie Ciyuan was naturally furious at the new Emperor’s scheming, but matters had their priorities, and Nangu Ying was his key to staging a comeback. He couldn’t let his anger jeopardize its safety.
Since Xie Ciyuan had made his decision, the guards executed it without question, and Yun Jiuqing stayed by his side the whole time without a word.
Meanwhile, the others outside had also noticed the celestial phenomenon. Third Master Ning excitedly pointed it out to Old Madame Ning. “Mother, look! Even Heaven is bearing witness for the Prince. The Prince is innocent!”
At his words, everyone looked up and saw the words “The Zhenhun Army fears neither death nor hardship, and stands with a clear conscience!”
For a moment, everyone held their breath, staring silently at the sky until those words faded, replaced by another line: “My son is loyal and brave; my heart is deeply comforted.”
Even Third Madame Ning, who was always loud and constantly complained about Xie Ciyuan dragging them down, couldn’t help but exclaim, “Is that the late Emperor speaking to the Prince? Does it mean the late Emperor’s death has nothing to do with the Prince?”
The crowd buzzed with heated discussion, but was cut off by the gruff shouts of the guards.
“What are you all stopping for? If you want a lashing, just say so! Discussing the late Emperor—are you looking to die?”
Whips with barbs cracked through the air, and the crowd, no longer daring to watch the sky, hurried on their way.
Wang Jingkang, who had been making a racket outside the door, froze for a moment when he saw Yun Jiuqing and the others come out on their own. Then he turned his head away, pretending not to see them, and shouted to urge everyone along. “Move faster up front! Counting ants, are you? At this pace, when will we ever reach Baisha Zhen? Don’t you want to eat?”
By then, the other exiles had already seen Ning Ruoyu’s back, torn to shreds, and fear of the guards had taken root in their hearts.
They had also noticed the celestial phenomenon earlier, but—
Only Yun Jiuqing raised her voice and shouted, “They haven’t eaten all night—what speed do you expect from them? Losing a couple hours of sleep is one thing, but making people march on empty stomachs? If they collapse from exhaustion or fall ill, are you prepared to answer to the Beihuang Duhufu?”
The Great Chu court was not a monolith. At the very least, the Duhufu in the regions near the border enjoyed considerable autonomy.
Bei Huang was poor and desolate, with frequent civil unrest. To deter external threats, the court had granted the Duhufu extensive authority.
And the reason the exile destination was set at Bei Huang, aside from it being a truly bitter and cold land that served as punishment, was that these exiles were free labor shipped to Bei Huang.
If an exile died en route, on the surface it meant a loss of labor for Bei Huang, but from another angle, it was a challenge to the authority of the Beihang Duhufu.
And while the guards escorting them put on airs before the exiles, acting as if a single word from them could decide life or death, once they reached Bei Huang, they were lower than the lowliest soldier.
In fact, the people of the Beihuang Duhufu could work them like oxen or horses as long as they didn’t kill them.
Yun Jiuqing’s words subtly tore away the guards’ mask of bluster, and they glared at her with irritation before turning in unison to Wang Jingkang.
His expression shifted, and finally he waved his hand impatiently. “Fine, fine. They need to eat anyway. Hand out the rations!”
The guards were somewhat taken aback, but on second thought, this meal was supposed to be served at the relay station anyway. If they didn’t feed the prisoners, they’d have to carry the food all the way to the Baisha Zhen station themselves—more work for them. So they grudgingly went to distribute the rations.
However, as soon as she received the dry provisions, Ning Ruobing couldn’t help complaining. “What kind of meal is this! Even the lowest maidservant in my house wouldn’t eat this. They’re doing this on purpose. How is anyone supposed to swallow this?”
The rations the guards handed out were coarse, hard multigrain cakes, each about the size of an adult’s palm. They were enough to fill the stomach, but the texture was indescribably awful.
The women of Cheng En Gong Fu were used to fine clothes and fine food. One bite, and their faces fell.
Hearing Ning Ruobing complain, the others joined in with their own grumbles, and the pace of the group unconsciously slowed.
The officers’ whips immediately lashed out. “Move it! You’re lucky to get any food at all—don’t act like you’re still the madam of some grand estate. If you don’t want to eat, then none of you eat. I’ll be right here watching—anyone who doesn’t eat won’t get dinner either!”
The exiles were only fed two meals a day, with no lunch. If they lost dinner too, they’d go a full day starving.
For ordinary people, a day without food might not be much, but these people were delicate and frail. Some had likely never walked such distances consecutively in their entire lives—add hunger to that, and they’d collapse completely.
Xuan Lie and Xuan Qing carried Xie Ciyuan between them, struggling forward, while Yun Jiuqing walked close by his side.
As Ning Ruobing complained, her gaze drifted meaningfully toward Yun Jiuqing, though her words seemed to speak on Xie Ciyuan’s behalf. “Besides, Cousin’s body is so weak—how could he possibly swallow such coarse fare? You’re his consort. Shouldn’t you be finding him something more palatable to eat?”
Yun Jiuqing rolled her eyes in exasperation. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. Where exactly am I supposed to find food? And besides, dear sister, we’ve been exiled—we’re not on a spring outing. Do you think I can just go looking for food whenever I please?”
Ning Ruobing let out a cold snort. “Aren’t you supposed to be so capable? I saw it—that Wang Jingkang wasn’t going to give us anything at first. It was only after you spoke that he relented. Who knows what unsavory methods you used. And besides, this dry ration is so coarse—can you even stomach it?”
Wang Jingkang had only been intimidated by Yun Jiuqing’s poison and sharp tongue, which was why he’d changed his mind and given them food. But with Ning Ruobing’s insinuation, it sounded as though Yun Jiuqing and Wang Jingkang had some shady dealings between them.
Yun Jiuqing raised the dry ration and took a bite, chewing and swallowing without so much as a change in expression. She turned to look at Ning Ruobing. “See? No one’s died. I can eat it, so why can’t he?”
She then shoved Xie Ciyuan’s portion of dry ration right up against his mouth. “Since you’re awake, eat it yourself. Don’t wait for someone to wait on you.”
Ning Ruobing watched Yun Jiuqing’s rough handling in horror and was about to say something when Xie Ciyuan actually took the ration and began eating on his own. She stared at him without blinking, waiting for him to curse at Yun Jiuqing. But Xie Ciyuan took several bites without the slightest sign of discomfort, and Ning Ruobing was utterly baffled.
“What are you dawdling for? Waiting for me to carry you?”
An officer approached, cracking his whip in urgency. With Ning Ruoyu, that fool, no longer around to serve as her free human shield, Ning Ruobing dared not linger and quickly scurried away.
At that moment, various messages praising Xie Ciyuan’s achievements and pledging his loyalty filled the sky, blazing brilliantly against the pre-dawn darkness. Yun Jiuqing walked beside Xie Ciyuan, reading them aloud one by one. “The land remains unharmed—fear no injustice! May the survivors of the Zhenhun Army serve Great Chu with utter devotion until death!”
…
As she read on, Xie Ciyuan suddenly spoke. “Is this the method you came up with?”