Lu Zhidao’s crossed leg froze mid-air. She answered blankly, “No need.”
Chu Ning looked at her strangely. “But how did you get hurt just now?”
Lu Zhidao hugged her right leg tightly, eyeing Chu Ning warily.
“Fine, have it your way,” Chu Ning said, raising her hands in surrender. “But if your leg is truly injured, I won’t be able to carry you.”
“It won’t be. I’m fine.”
Taking advantage of the gap when Chu Ning turned around to set the fan down, Lu Zhidao swiftly pulled off her boot and poured out the silver shard. She gripped it tightly in her hand, thinking resentfully: This tiny thing ground into the sole of my foot; I couldn’t throw it away, and I couldn’t get it out.
Only then did she notice that the skin on her sole had long been rubbed raw, with small beads of blood seeping out.
Lu Zhidao’s eyes followed Chu Ning closely. Seeing that her companion was focused entirely on the blank fan, she quietly tucked the silver into her robe. Then, hopping on one foot, she went to wash her face.
“I’ll get it for you,” Chu Ning said, putting the fan down. She pushed Lu Zhidao into a seat, then turned to dampen a towel and handed it to her.
Leaning down, she spotted the blood on Lu Zhidao’s foot. She was about to say something, but Lu Zhidao, fearing more questions, simply tucked her legs up and wiped her face as if nothing were wrong.
For some reason, she felt guilty. She stole a glance at Chu Ning and found her still standing right there. Lu Zhidao had no choice but to keep wiping her face, using the action as an excuse to avoid conversation.
“Mumu, are you done yet?”
Realizing she couldn’t hide forever, Lu Zhidao reluctantly set the towel down. “I’ll put it back myself.”
Chu Ning ignored her and took the towel back. She asked casually, “You were fine when we left. How did you suddenly start limping?”
“I… I don’t know.”
Chu Ning leaned down and patted her right leg. “Let me see.”
Lu Zhidao nervously guarded her leg, even more worried that this would lead to the discovery of the silver. She replied cautiously, “It’s nothing.”
“Why are you being so guarded with me?”
“I’m not.”
“If you’re injured, how are you going to protect me?” Chu Ning teased half-jokingly.
Lu Zhidao found herself unable to argue. She sat down and looked at the wound on her foot with her. Her heart grew even more restless.
“This looks like an abrasion…” Chu Ning said doubtfully.
“Must be.” Lu Zhidao couldn’t think of another excuse, so she just went along with it.
Chu Ning found it odd and murmured to herself, “Could a small pebble have fallen into your boot?”
“Yes!” Lu Zhidao nodded vigorously. She couldn’t pass up such a perfectly reasonable excuse delivered right to her.
“Are you stupid? Why didn’t you take it out instead of letting it grind into you the whole way?”
Lu Zhidao kept her mouth shut and silently touched the silver shard in her robe.
“It hurts a little, but it’s no big deal. It’ll be fine in a few days,” Chu Ning said, finally feeling relieved. She returned to the desk and stared at the fan in thought.
From time to time, she would look up at Lu Zhidao, spacing out. Her gaze was fixed on the woman, yet she wasn’t looking directly at her, as if her mind were elsewhere. Lu Zhidao found the staring inexplicable and was too guilty to ask. She felt uncomfortable all over, her eyes darting around awkwardly.
After a long while, Chu Ning snapped out of it. She gave a small smile, dipped her brush in ink, and began to paint on the blank fan.
Only then did Lu Zhidao finally relax. She leaned back against the bed, hands behind her head. She thought carefully about their future path. Fortunately, she had wounded Centurion Jia; they likely wouldn’t be caught for a while.
Since they were temporarily safe, she decided to let Chu Ning be. Lu Zhidao figured her only job was to ensure the girl’s safety; nothing else mattered.
After a while, Chu Ning walked over, holding the finished fan with a mysterious air.
Seeing Lu Zhidao leaning back on the bed with a blank stare, Chu Ning didn’t call her name. She simply crawled onto the other side of the bed, knelt beside her, and tapped her gently with the handle of the fan.
“Look…” Chu Ning held both sides of the fan and slowly unfurled it before Lu Zhidao’s eyes.
On the fan was a young girl with crimson lips and vermillion sleeves, dancing with a sword in the morning light.
“Is it beautiful?”
“It is.” Lu Zhidao thought she was asking about the painting.
Chu Ning gave a meaningful smile and asked, “How is it beautiful?”
Lu Zhidao took the fan and mimicked a sword move similar to the one in the painting. “The technique is good.”
“And?”
“The sword is good too.”
“What about the person?”
“The person?” Lu Zhidao opened the fan and looked closely. The clothes on the figure were indeed very similar to her own, but the person in the painting had flowing, elegant sleeves, while her own clothes were somewhat dirty. They didn’t seem like the same person.
“Is the person beautiful?” Chu Ning hid a smile.
“Beautiful,” Lu Zhidao replied perfunctorily.
Chu Ning leaned in, tilting her head to look at the figure on the fan and then at Lu Zhidao. She suddenly laughed. “She is beautiful.”
Could that person really be me? Lu Zhidao’s eyes widened. She scrutinized the painting in disbelief; the more she looked, the more it resembled her.
Lu Zhidao blinked awkwardly, not knowing what to say. She quietly shoved the fan back into Chu Ning’s hands.
“Are you unhappy?” Chu Ning asked tentatively.
“No.” Lu Zhidao turned away awkwardly, avoiding the fan. The person in the painting was bright and free-spirited, while she felt like a gloom deep in the dust. Even in the sunlight, she felt like a heavy shadow. Aside from the sword at her side, she felt she didn’t possess even a tenth of the beauty of the girl in the painting.
“I’m not that good,” Lu Zhidao explained calmly.
“You are exactly like that. I saw it with my own eyes that day. You walked toward me, carrying your sword and draped in the morning light. It was very beautiful,” Chu Ning said firmly. “It’s a pity I didn’t pay much attention to you before.”
“I pay attention to you all the time.”
Chu Ning’s mouth hung open, unable to speak for a moment. She seemed suddenly choked up and blankly closed the fan.
She didn’t understand what Lu Zhidao meant by those words—why she would “pay attention all the time.”
Thinking back over these past days, how Lu Zhidao had stayed by her side and fended off every danger, a faint warmth rose in Chu Ning’s heart. Even this morning, when Lu Zhidao had jumped from the second floor without a second thought, it was only because she suspected the old man of having ulterior motives. Chu Ning suddenly felt that having her around was very reassuring.
But the thought that Lu Zhidao had been watching her even when she wasn’t aware made her a bit shy. Her face felt slightly hot, and she lowered her eyes to avoid Lu Zhidao’s gaze.
Deep down, she expected her to continue. Though she had no idea how she would respond if Lu Zhidao said anything more… intimate.
“You… have been paying attention to me for a long time?”
“It is my duty,” Lu Zhidao answered solemnly, her tone carrying a hint of pride, as if saying no need to praise me, it’s what I should do.
Seeing Chu Ning’s darkened expression and silence, Lu Zhidao added, “Everyone was very dedicated to the task of escorting you to the capital.”
“Oh.” Chu Ning was pulled back to reality by those calm words. She scolded herself for being self-indulgent. Her face felt even hotter, but she feigned indifference. “Everyone was very professional, then.”
“Naturally,” Lu Zhidao nodded.
Chu Ning didn’t want to talk to her anymore. She took the fan and went back to the desk, picking up the brush to make a few more modifications. Then, out of spite, she added a line of poetry in the blank space:
“One can be snapped inch by inch, but cannot be bent into tenderness.”
It described Lu Zhidao perfectly.
Lu Zhidao, having been snubbed, was still completely oblivious.
Once the fan was finished, Chu Ning wanted to go out and sell it while it was still early. She was eager to know how much her artistic skills were worth.
Lu Zhidao wasn’t comfortable letting her go out alone, so she insisted on coming along. Chu Ning couldn’t win the argument and let her follow, limp and all.
They hadn’t gone far from the inn when a tattered little beggar, about seven or eight years old, came charging toward them like a madman. The child ran with head held high, completely ignoring whether they might crash into anyone.
Seeing the little beggar rushing over, Chu Ning stepped out of the way.
Lu Zhidao, however, leaped forward, caught the little beggar by the waist, and carried them back to the side of the road. The little beggar was no match for her and struggled with hands and feet, but to no avail.
Seeing there was no escape, the child frantically stuffed a dirty half-bun into their mouth, covering it tightly with both hands and swallowing it whole.
Soon, a large man carrying a rolling pin chased them down. Seeing him, the little beggar struggled to flee again.
Lu Zhidao let go, setting the child down, but before they could run, she immediately pinned the child’s head against the wall. The beggar’s limbs flailed, but their head was held fast.
“Don’t move,” Lu Zhidao warned coldly.
Seeing this, Chu Ning hurried over to plead with Lu Zhidao. “Why be so hard on them? They look so pitiful.” She patted Lu Zhidao’s hand, signaling her to let go.
As the large man reached them and raised his rolling pin to hit the beggar, Lu Zhidao kept one hand on the child and caught the descending rolling pin with the other.
“What are you doing?” Lu Zhidao stared fiercely at the man.
“This little animal stole something.”
“It’s just a bun.” Lu Zhidao used her strength to push the burly man back.
The man was persistent and raised the rolling pin high to charge again.
“Whatever was stolen, we will pay for it,” Chu Ning said, shielding the little beggar and turning her head.
“They stole two buns and got many others dirty. I can’t sell them now!”
“Mumu, give him the money,” Chu Ning said without hesitation. She knelt down, pushed Lu Zhidao’s hand away, and carefully checked the little beggar for injuries.
Lu Zhidao grumpily threw a silver shard at the man to get rid of him. Having received the money, the man didn’t say anything more. He spat on the ground and turned to leave.
“Are you okay?” Chu Ning smoothed the little beggar’s messy hair.
The child gritted their teeth against the tears and answered, “I’m fine.”
Lu Zhidao took out the small silver ingot she had “robbed” and threw it to the beggar, squeezing out a single word through her teeth: “Go.”
The little beggar picked up the money, glanced at Chu Ning, and ran off without looking back.
Chu Ning stood up helplessly. “If you wanted to help, why were you so mean to them?”
“That was good enough,” Lu Zhidao said, her tone complex.
“They are quite pitiful,” Chu Ning sighed.
“They will be grateful for your kindness,” Lu Zhidao said calmly.
“How is that kindness?”
“A little bit is enough.”
“How would you know?”
“I was once just like them.” Lu Zhidao restrained herself as much as possible, trying to make her voice sound even.
“Mumu?” Chu Ning keenly noticed the slight tremor in her voice.
Lu Zhidao took a deep breath. “It’s nothing.”
Seeing her discomfort, Chu Ning didn’t dare ask more.
Fortunately, Lu Zhidao recovered quickly and teased herself, “I wasn’t caught for a bun. I stole a single candy and was chased for several streets.” She spoke calmly, as if she weren’t talking about herself.
Chu Ning looked in the direction the little beggar had gone, then at Lu Zhidao. She found it hard to link the two together and felt a strange pang of sympathy.
Seeing that Lu Zhidao couldn’t quite hide her sadness and was walking forward with her head down, Chu Ning caught up and said, half-jokingly, “I’ll buy you some candy.”