“Shuer, Shuer, what’s wrong? Say something to me, please.”
“Mother, I’m all right.”
Zhao Yushu opened her eyes. They were now utterly calm.
She shook her head and reached for the blood still staining the corner of Concubine Liu’s mouth. Gently, bit by bit, she wiped away the blood with her fingertip.
“Does it hurt? I was wrong today. I did something I shouldn’t have, let down all your efforts, and got you dragged into this.”
Concubine Liu’s nose stung. Tears welled up and rolled down her cheeks as she shook her head hard.
“It doesn’t hurt, not one bit. I know you were worried about me, Shuer. You did it because you wanted what was best for me.”
“Shuer is a good girl. It’s your mother who’s no good. I have no respectable birth, and your father won’t listen to a word I say. I’ve held you back.”
Then, suddenly flustered, she corrected herself. “No, no. I’m not your mother—I’m a servant. First Madam is your mother. You should call her Mother.”
“And you’re not Shuer; you’re Third Miss. Third Miss, what’s done today is done. You must remember this lesson and never make the same mistake again.”
A mother loved her daughter, yet couldn’t let her daughter call her Mother. A daughter loved her mother, yet had no way to protect her.
What kind of wretched world was this?
“All right, Mother. I’ll listen to you. I’ll do whatever you say.”
Zhao Yushu didn’t insist on contradicting Concubine Liu again. She understood that, before the family was seized and they were sent into exile, living by Concubine Liu’s rules was the best way for both of them to survive.
But now, a cold, strikingly handsome face came unbidden to her mind. The man’s eyes were dark and icy, his voice sinister as he said:
“It isn’t that this prince is bloodthirsty. It’s the people of this world who are sick. I kill them to cure them. What’s wrong with killing them all?”
What had he been thinking when he said that? Could it be that his state of mind had been the same as hers was now?
The people who oppressed him would never be seized and sent into exile, never brought down to stand as his equals.
So had he simply chosen to plunge the whole world into chaos, ruling through slaughter and seeking justice for himself by his own means?
A bitter smile curved Zhao Yushu’s lips. Once, they had been close enough to touch, yet she hadn’t understood him, and he hadn’t understood her.
Now, with the distance between them as vast as the divide between two lifetimes, she seemed to understand him a little.
But in the end, they were different.
He had nothing. There was nothing in the world he cared about, so he could attack without ever needing to defend himself.
But she had people she had to care for and protect.
Zhao Yushu gently blew on Concubine Liu’s swollen face.
She made no empty promise that she would never let her suffer again. Instead, she silently planned how best to use the little time she had left tomorrow.
Night was chilly in the dim, sunless Buddhist Hall.
Zhao Yushu and Concubine Liu huddled close together, warming one another with their body heat.
“You must remember today’s lesson from now on. You can’t ever call someone by the wrong name in front of others again.”
Concubine Liu was still lecturing her without pause.
Zhao Yushu rested her head on her shoulder. “Mother, you smell so lovely. You’re so soft and warm.”
In two lifetimes, this was the first time she’d had the chance to sleep pressed close to her mother.
Before, whenever Zhao Lubai fell ill on the road to exile, First Madam would stay by her side day and night, caring for her without even changing out of her clothes.
Zhao Yushu had envied that kind of love and tenderness, but all she could do was envy it.
Concubine Liu sighed heavily. “What good is smelling lovely? What good is being soft? It still couldn’t keep your father’s heart. He can’t even be bothered to hear me out.”
Zhao Yushu suddenly asked, “Mother, you care so much about Father’s heart. Could it be that you love him very much?”
She had been in love once. She knew what loving someone felt like.
“You little girl. You’re not even married yet. Who taught you to talk about love?”
Concubine Liu gave her daughter a coquettish look.
“Listen, a woman follows her husband after marriage. That’s been the rule since ancient times. As for love, that’s something made up in storybooks to fool gullible people. Your father and I are just trying to make a living.”
“I care about his heart because wherever a man’s heart is, that’s where his favor goes. If his heart were with me, you’d rise with me as my daughter and be treated better, too.”
She sighed again. “Too bad your mother’s useless. I’ve tried for all these years, and people still summon me when they want me and dismiss me when they’re done. I’ve gained nothing.”
Zhao Yushu sighed softly as well. If her father had felt even the slightest affection for her mother, he wouldn’t have forbidden anyone from collecting her body after she died in her previous life.
With so much on her mind, Zhao Yushu slept poorly. She opened her eyes almost as soon as dawn broke.
When she moved, Concubine Liu woke too, still drowsy and confused. “Shuer?”
Zhao Yushu’s heart softened, and her voice gentled without her meaning it to.
“Mother, go back to sleep. I have some things to take care of. Don’t be afraid staying here alone. When I come back, I’ll bring you something to eat.”
Without waiting for Concubine Liu to respond, she opened the window in the Buddhist Hall’s back wall and leaped lightly through it.
The time she’d had yesterday was too short, and she’d managed to prepare very little. The road to exile was long; she had to keep preparing today.
If she remembered correctly, the group she’d encountered in her previous life should arrive in the capital today.
After changing into men’s clothes, Zhao Yushu headed straight for the biggest restaurant in the capital.
She had risen early, and the restaurant hadn’t opened for business yet.
She waited outside for a while before a waiter came to unlock the door.
Without a word, Zhao Yushu went inside and slapped down a banknote. “Bring me every bit of Pre-Rain Longjing[1]Longjing, or Dragon Well, is a Chinese green tea; “Pre-Rain” refers to tender leaves picked before the Grain Rain solar term. jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_3735810_1_1').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_3735810_1_1', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], }); you have.”
Seeing how lavishly she paid, the waiter grinned from ear to ear.
“Right away, sir. Please wait here. I’ll be back in a moment.”
Pre-Rain Longjing was always slow to sell at their restaurant. The tea cakes they’d stocked months ago still hadn’t run out. Today, they’d truly struck gold.
Afraid Zhao Yushu might change her mind, the waiter hurriedly brewed all the tea cakes they had and brought them over as fast as he could.
The steaming teapot had barely been set on the table when more than a dozen tall, burly men came in from the street, their boots wet with morning dew.
They were all dressed like merchants. At their head was a man in a coarse blue linen shirt, its collar open, his face covered in a thick beard. He carried himself with an easy, rough-hewn confidence.
The moment he stepped inside, he called out loudly, “Waiter, bring us a pot of Pre-Rain Longjing!”
When Zhao Yushu saw him, her eyes lit up. Getting up early had been worth it—she’d found him after all!
The waiter, who had just brought all the tea to Zhao Yushu’s table, froze.
“We’re out of Pre-Rain Longjing, sir. Could you choose something else? Our Da Hong Pao[2]A celebrated oolong tea from the Wuyi Mountains in Fujian, traditionally classified as a Wuyi rock tea. jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_3735810_1_2').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_3735810_1_2', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], }); and jasmine tea are popular, too.”
“What? You’re out of Pre-Rain Longjing?” The bearded man’s brows shot up, and he was about to lose his temper. They were traveling merchants who worked hard day in and day out. Their only little reward was a good meal when they stopped to rest.
He had no other hobby in his life; he just loved Pre-Rain Longjing. That was why he’d come to the biggest restaurant in the capital, hoping to taste it. And now they were telling him they didn’t have any?
He slammed his palm on the table, his face red with anger.
“What kind of place are you running? You’re out of stock, and you still have the nerve to open for business?”
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