Jiang Fanyin lowered her gaze and gave a slight, subtle nod.
Song Boxue closed the door and stepped outside to ask the proprietor for an extra quilt.
“In this weather, one quilt is plenty warm. Besides, if you two young masters plan on sleeping separately, the bed likely won’t fit a second one anyway.”
Song Boxue recalled the size of that single bed; it truly didn’t look like it could accommodate any extra bedding.
When she returned and relayed this, Jiang Fanyin replied with an air of indifference, “We are both women; squeezing together a bit is no matter.”
Seeing that Jiang Fanyin genuinely didn’t seem to care, Song Boxue knit her brows. Why did it feel like she was the only one overthinking everything? Her constant hesitation made her feel as if she had a guilty conscience.
Steeling her nerves, she forced herself to stop dwelling on stray thoughts. She turned her back, covered her head with the blanket, and went to sleep.
It was only when the rhythmic sound of breathing rose beside her that Jiang Fanyin’s stiff body finally relaxed. She lightly touched her chest, listening to the loud thumping of her heart echoing in her ears, and slowly closed her eyes.
Talk about a fake sense of detachment.
The next morning, perhaps remembering the half-tael of silver, the proprietor kindly prepared some flatbreads for them and ensured the horse was well-fed.
As the route consisted mostly of small villages, they didn’t stop. They ate the flatbreads with some water at noon and continued their hurried journey.
Upon entering Weitian Prefecture, the roads became noticeably smoother, and the towns appeared far more prosperous. This time, they stayed in a small county town within the prefecture. The streets were lined with inns and bustling taverns.
Song Boxue felt her coin purse and walked past the taverns without a sideways glance, opting for a modest little inn instead. Jiang Fanyin remained quiet throughout, offering no opinion.
However, after the bill was settled, she silently produced one tael of silver. “My share.”
Food and lodging in a county town were more expensive than in the rural village; they had spent roughly two taels that day.
Song Boxue accepted it without pretense. “I’ll take this for now. I’ll pay you back the five taels I owe you once I receive my monthly salary.”
Madam Song had only given her three taels, and she had barely half a tael left. If she didn’t take it now, she’d be penniless on the return trip and forced to let the female lead pay for everything, which would be even more awkward.
Jiang Fanyin nodded slightly.
She was not short on money. Her father had anticipated everything days before he was imprisoned. Not only had he sent her away early, but he had also ensured she carried the family’s entire savings. By the time she heard news of their estate being seized, she was already sitting in a carriage bound for Pingchuan County with a small fortune hidden on her person.
But none of this could be told to outsiders.
With her father’s life on the line, she couldn’t fully trust anyone—not even the person standing before her. Furthermore, she had her own agenda for this trip; only by using Song Boxue could she reasonably seek help from Weitian Prefecture. Had she come alone, she likely wouldn’t have even secured an audience with the Prefect.
Early on the third day, they arrived at the Weitian Prefectural Office.
Upon hearing they were from Liuping Prefecture with urgent business for the Prefect, they weren’t kept waiting long before being led into the rear offices.
The Prefect of Weitian, a man named Miao, came from a line of officials and was as sharp as a whistle. He knew that if a magistrate from Pingchuan—which was under Liuping’s jurisdiction had traveled all this way to see him, the matter must be grave.
After the formalities, he dismissed all unnecessary staff. “Please, be seated. Magistrate Song, what brings you here?”
Song Boxue didn’t beat around the bush and produced Jiang Wuyi’s military document. If she couldn’t trust Weitian, which was directly under the central government’s eye, then she was truly out of options.
Prefect Miao’s eyes widened as he read. Demanding a local official assist in the private forging of weapons without imperial permission was no small matter.
He set the document face-down on the table and asked calmly, “Such a matter should be reported to the Liuping Prefectural Office. Why has Magistrate Song sought help from afar?”
The magistrate had traveled light with only one companion; it suggested that Liuping was likely on the verge of a major upheaval.
Song Boxue had prepared her response. “Prefect Miao may not know, but the former Prefect of Liuping was recently imprisoned on charges of rebellion. The case has yet to be settled. The timing is far too coincidental, and knowing the gravity of the situation, I did not dare report it locally.”
Prefect Miao was silent for a moment. “Do not be anxious, Magistrate Song. I shall memorialize the Throne immediately.”
He studied Song Boxue. A young, seventh-rank magistrate with the courage to bypass her own superiors—she certainly had pluck. Weitian was adjacent to the capital; a round trip took only a day. Now, they just had to wait for instructions from above.
Song Boxue knew this couldn’t be rushed. She would have to wait in Weitian for a day, so she bowed and excused herself.
Before they had even left the rear office, Jiang Fanyin stopped in her tracks. “I’ve left something behind. Wait for me a moment.”
Song Boxue turned and watched her silently. Jiang Fanyin’s heart skipped a beat; her fingers clenched slightly inside her sleeve, though she maintained a calm facade.
“Alright. Be quick, Sister Jiang. I’ll wait for you here.” Song Boxue suddenly flashed a smile and stood perfectly still.
Jiang Fanyin averted her eyes and turned back.
About half an hour later, she returned. “I searched for quite a while.”
“It’s fine. Let’s go.” Song Boxue interrupted her explanation and led the way out.
She wasn’t in the mood to pry. Since she had decided not to get too involved, she would simply look out for herself until she could resign and disappear into the world. As for the female lead, the “destined male lead” could worry about her.
A cannon-fodder character like herself shouldn’t meddle.
Jiang Fanyin bit her lip, her heart a mess of inexplicable emotions—partly from the other’s tactful refusal to pry, and partly from the guilt of her own lie.
By evening, Prefect Miao summoned Song Boxue again, and after speaking with her, he requested to speak with Jiang Fanyin alone.
Song Boxue continued to keep her distance, minding her own business.
The orders from above were to move in two directions: Song Boxue was to play along and act according to the situation, while secret investigators would be dispatched to verify her claims.
When they left, Prefect Miao provided two guards to accompany them, stating that they could deliver messages quickly if anything changed. Song Boxue didn’t refuse. Having reliable people who could relay information was a blessing given her lack of allies in the yamen.
After staying the night, they hurried back toward Pingchuan on the fourth day. Having already traveled the route once, the return trip was much faster. By evening, they had left Weitian and re-entered Liuping territory. The roads were deserted, and the scenery grew monotonous, dominated once again by pine trees.
Driven by haste, they were forced to take shelter for the night in a dilapidated temple. The two guards were efficient men of few words; without being told, one went for firewood while the other went to forage for food.
A bonfire soon crackled in the temple, with two wild chickens roasting over the flames. Song Boxue and Jiang Fanyin had nothing to do but wait to eat.
As Song Boxue stared blankly into the fire, Jiang Fanyin tugged at her sleeve. “Someone is coming.”
“Hmm?”
Song Boxue looked toward the entrance. A group of four men with horses had stopped at the temple doors. Leading them was a young man in extravagant, high-quality robes—handsome and noble. The other three were clearly servants based on their attire and demeanor.
Stepping into the temple, the nobleman’s eyes lit up when they landed on Jiang Fanyin. It looked like he had spotted a beauty disguised as a man.
Initially, neither group disturbed the other. When the meat was ready, the guards began carving the chicken with their knives. The aroma of roasted meat filled the temple, making mouths water.
The nobleman whispered a few instructions, and a servant approached them carrying a wine flask, cups, and some dry rations.
“A chance encounter is a fated one. I wonder if I might have the honor of sharing a few drinks with you all?”
The words were directed at Song Boxue, as the two guards clearly deferred to her, but the nobleman’s gaze lingered on Jiang Fanyin. Indeed, a beauty, he thought.
Adhering to the principle that “less trouble is better than more,” Song Boxue declined. “It is inconvenient for us to drink; we must respectfully decline your kindness.”
She wasn’t fooled, she could tell this man had been drawn over by the scent of the roasted chicken and was looking for a way to snag a piece.
The man was not offended by the rejection. He introduced himself with an air of self-assurance: “My name is Hua Jian—taken from the idiom seeing the minute to know the significant. Might I have the honor of making your acquaintance?”
Thud. The chicken leg in Song Boxue’s hand hit the ground.
Hua Jian? Wasn’t that the male lead’s alias?
Song Boxue turned her gaze toward Jiang Fanyin, a sudden realization dawning on her. This man’s target wasn’t the chicken at all—it was the female lead.
Had these two actually met this early in the original story? Or had her interference inadvertently caused their paths to cross even sooner?
________________________________________
Author’s Note:
Song Boxue: My feelings are complicated, very complicated.