The night wind blew through the room, making Aman even more anxious.
She held the bowl near Zhao Ye’s mouth. “Zhao Ye, eat something. You haven’t eaten all day.”
He hadn’t eaten in the morning either.
Now, seeing him in the same state at night, Aman realized the truth: Zhao Ye was trying to starve himself. He was attempting to die by refusing food.
Tears fell from her eyes as she whispered, “Zhao Ye, just eat a little. People die if they don’t eat, and if you die, I won’t live either.”
Hearing the desperate, helpless cries of this little maid, Zhao Ye’s lips moved. He wanted to speak, but could only swallow the words into his chest.
Looking at Aman, sobbing with tears streaming down her face, he felt a strange emotion growing in his heart.
Could it be… that she had deep feelings for him?
Otherwise, any normal person would have left by now to find a better life.
“Aman,” Zhao Ye called softly. “Stop crying.”
True to her nature, Aman immediately stopped crying. She wasn’t crying for herself—her sorrow came from the thought that if Zhao Ye died, she would have no way to survive. That overwhelming grief engulfed her completely.
He noticed the bowl in her hands. Overjoyed, Aman scooped a large spoonful and fed him. Zhao Ye opened his mouth and swallowed the thick porridge.
“Aman,” he said, glancing at the other bowl nearby. Their rice was scarce, so they had to make porridge thin to save it. Yet Aman always gave him the thick portion while she ate the watery gruel with barely any grains.
“I’m thirsty. Give me that bowl,” he said.
“That bowl is… mine. You can eat this one,” Aman replied.
“Give it to me.”
Zhao Ye tried to lift his hands, but they were too weak.
Aman immediately obeyed, bringing him the watery bowl.
“From now on, we don’t need to divide our food like this. Whatever I eat, you’ll eat too,” Zhao Ye said.
Aman didn’t catch much, but she heard “from now on.”
Her eyes sparkled. That meant Zhao Ye had decided to live!
It was excellent news. She felt genuinely happy, her dimples showing as she smiled.
“I bought some seeds at the market today. We can plant them in the backyard. If they grow, we’ll have endless food,” she said.
Ningzhou had many wastelands, and the government didn’t manage them—people were free to cultivate.
But the land was poor, and crops were often meager. Any disaster could wipe out the harvest and ruin the poor.
Aman continued, “Before, you were high-born in the Crown Prince’s residence, eating only the best food. Now in Ningzhou, whatever I cook, you’ll eat it, alright?”
Survival was the priority.
“Alright,” Zhao Ye replied.
“Luckily, when I was a child, I often helped my family with farming. Growing vegetables and fruits won’t be a problem!”
Aman reassured herself. Born into a poor family, she had learned responsibility early.
“Mm.”
“Look at these wild vegetables. Aren’t they quite tasty?”
Though there was no oil, just a touch of salt, Aman savored every bite.
A bowl of porridge and some salt-seasoned wild vegetables—they had at least solved one meal.
Life was hard, but life had to go on.
What could be more luxurious than simply staying alive? For Aman, there was nothing.
“Zhao Ye.”
“Mm?”
In the darkness, Aman spoke bravely. Zhao Ye responded softly.
“Zhao Ye.”
“Mm, I’m here.”
Aman breathed a sigh of relief. Clearly, the old master-servant hierarchy no longer mattered, and this new way of living was fine.
“We’ll live like this from now on. You’re no longer the Crown Prince, and I’m no longer a maid,” she said.
Zhao Ye remained quiet. Moonlight spilled into the room, and his chest rose and fell with slightly more strength than yesterday.
“From now on, when I help you wash, you don’t need to feel so tense,” Aman added.
Zhao Ye, who once wanted to die, had already exposed his weakest, most helpless side to someone else. He no longer had any illusions.
But he wondered—if he died, what would happen to this girl?
“You’re weak now, but it’s okay. I’ll go to the mountains to gather herbs. We’ll eat well, take medicine, and you’ll get better one day,” Aman rambled.
She was exhausted from a day in the mountains and falling into a hunter’s trap.
Her voice gradually softened and fell into a faint snore.
In the moonlight, Zhao Ye turned his gaze to Aman sleeping on the floor.
She had cleaned the floor repeatedly with water and curled up there, while he rested on the wooden boards she had dried and laid out, topped with clothing.
He noticed her torn fingernail and felt complex emotions.
A man like him, with a body like his… could only become a burden.
Half-dead, rejected by family, scorned by the people, living was worse than dying.
He didn’t know what Aman wanted—perhaps she wanted nothing at all.
Ding—
The familiar chime sounded. Aman’s eyes widened as she looked at the system interface. Her points had already exceeded 2,000.
Some previously locked features unlocked: storage space and “grain & essentials.”
The storage space was only about twenty square meters, empty.
The “grain & essentials” section offered meager items: five pounds of flour, two pounds of bean oil.
Aman collected everything and stored it in the storage space.
Seeing the wild vegetables she dug yesterday, an idea struck her. In the morning, she had cleared the backyard and sown the seeds. Perhaps they would sprout soon.
“Zhao Ye, how about wild vegetable buns for lunch today?”
After working all morning planting the vegetables, Aman’s face was flushed red from the sun.
During her time in the Crown Prince’s residence, she had eaten well and been well-fed. But during the three months of exile, she had grown thin, her fair face tanned and cracked.
If she tied up her hair, she could easily pass for a boy.
“Sorry, I can’t help you,” Zhao Ye said.
The morning sun was harsh. He watched Aman moving busily in the courtyard, emotions swirling in his eyes.
If only his hands still worked, he could help her in some way.
But he could only watch Aman rush about while he remained helpless.