Chapter 15

 

“Who harmed my poor son!”

Madam Wang clutched Li Huizhi’s lifeless body, repeatedly slapping the ground as her anguished cries filled the air.

The exiles gathered nearby, exchanging uneasy glances.

Li Huizhi wasn’t the only one who had eaten the mushroom soup the previous night. Why was he the only one who had fallen victim?

Li Zhi pushed through the crowd. As she reached Madam Wang, the grieving mother grabbed hold of her leg.

“Please, I beg you—” Madam Wang sobbed, her tears and snot flowing freely as she pleaded. “Tell His Highness to save my child! I’ll serve him as a slave if he does!”

Li Zhi checked Li Huizhi’s breath and then felt his neck.

Sorrow welled up in her heart.

“…Huizhi is gone,” she said softly.

Somewhere in the crowd, Madam Zhu tightened her grip on her two children, tears of grief welling in her eyes.

Madam Zheng, perhaps recalling her own daughter’s recent passing, wiped her reddened eyes as well.

“No! No! You’re lying! He can still be saved! Please save him!” Madam Wang shook her head in disbelief, her voice rising in panic.

Holding back her own tears, Li Zhi gently advised, “He has already passed. Mother, let him rest in peace.”

“How dare you! A mere concubine-born daughter cursing her legitimate younger brother!” Madam Wang shrieked. “Li Huizhi is the sole heir of the Li family! He cannot die!”

“Mother, your words are most hurtful,” said Li Jinzhi, who had remained silent until now, his tone dripping with cold sarcasm.

“So, in Mother’s eyes, am I not Father’s son?”

At the mention of her son, Madam Zheng abandoned her grief and leapt into the fray like an enraged hen.

“Madam, your words are hurtful. Everyone drank the mushroom soup last night. Why is Huizhi the only one affected? Shouldn’t you reflect on your own actions?”

“What do you mean!” Madam Wang glared, her eyes wide with fury.

“I mean—” Madam Zheng rolled her eyes theatrically. “Thanks to you monopolizing the iron pot, the rest of us only got broth with mushroom scraps. Otherwise, there’d be more deaths today.”

The exiles began whispering among themselves, recalling how Madam Wang had hogged the pot the previous night.

“Yeah, I remember asking her for just a little more, but she said my bowl already had enough!”

“That poor child… cursed with a mother like that.”

“Maybe her selfishness brought divine retribution upon her child.”

The murmurs were loud enough for Madam Wang to hear. She froze, tears streaming silently down her face.

Li Huizhi had been extraordinarily gifted, composing poems at the age of six, earning name as a prodigy in the capital. Li Qiaonian had seen him as the family’s heir. Unlike his arrogant mother, Li Huizhi was kind and well-loved by the servants.

His untimely death was a tragedy for all but Madam Zheng and Li Jinzhi.

Li Zhi knelt and gently caressed her younger brother’s cold, bluish face.

She remembered how he had always called her “Sister” with a bright smile, chasing after her to play. In the blink of an eye, he now lay lifeless before her.

Li Xiang was gone too, and now Huizhi.

How much more could she lose?

“What are you all standing around for! Pack your things and get moving!” a guard shouted.

Cries of alarm rippled through the crowd. Following their gazes, Li Zhi turned to see Madam Wang.

The grieving mother had taken out a golden hairpin from somewhere and, without hesitation, plunged it into her throat.

Bright red blood gushed from the wound.

Li Zhi would never forget the scene.

Madam Wang collapsed, clutching the hairpin embedded in her neck. Her wide eyes stared blankly, her throat emitting gurgling sounds. Her trembling hand reached for Li Zhi, gripping her tightly.

Then, with a sharp tug, she pulled the hairpin free, spraying blood everywhere.

“Bury… me…” she rasped with a wheezing voice.

Madam Wang pressed the blood-soaked hairpin into Li Zhi’s hand. Its warmth felt like fire, searing her palm.

After a long silence, Li Zhi closed Madam Wang’s lifeless eyes.

The imperial edict had reduced their exile to a few written lines. Yet only those who walked this road knew the truth: from the capital to Mingyue Tower, countless souls perished along the way.

Young maidens, innocent children, and destitute women—they never understood their supposed crimes. Because of one family member’s offense, they found themselves helplessly thrust onto this path of despair.

Li Zhi dug a grave, joined unexpectedly by Li Jinzhi and Madam Zheng. Together, they buried Madam Wang and Li Huizhi. Afterward, Li Jinzhi naturally claimed Madam Wang’s golden hairpin as his own.

As the guards urged the group forward, Li Zhi returned to the carriage.

Xie Lanxu sat by the window, having watched silently for some time. When Li Zhi boarded, he looked at her without saying a word.

The guard cracked his whip, and the carriage jolted forward. Wind chimes jingled in the forest, and carefree birds sang above, oblivious to the world’s sorrows.

“Your Highness—”

“Hmm?”

“Did I do something wrong?” Li Zhi asked. “When I saw the mushroom patch, I should have destroyed it.”

“They would have only hated you, not thanked you,” Xie Lanxu replied.

Li Zhi understood this logic, yet she couldn’t shake her guilt.

A young, upright life had ended before her eyes.

She couldn’t remain indifferent.

“If Your Highness lost the person most important to you, would you follow them in death or choose to keep living?”

Xie Lanxu looked into her eyes, his thoughts unreadable.

“There is no one in this world for whom I would follow in death,” he said with a faint smile.

For Li Zhi, everything since her twin sister’s death had felt like a tragic dream.

The moments of fleeting happiness were like seashells cast ashore by sorrow, precious yet fragile, easily swept away by the tides.

She had no heart for further conversation, leaning against the wooden lattice window and gazing silently outside.

The sound of hooves echoed on the ground as the convoy wound through the mountains like a long snake.

After reaching the crest of a mountain, the scenery shifted to steep cliffs and treacherous ridges. Above were barren peaks; below, loose yellow soil sloped downward. The narrow path barely accommodated the carriage.

This stretch of the journey—of all three thousand miles—was the most perilous.

To make matters worse, rain began to drizzle, making the ground slick. Everyone tread cautiously, even the most experienced driver breaking out in a nervous sweat.

Sitting in the carriage, Li Zhi couldn’t shake her unease.

The rain intensified, washing down the slopes and carrying with it countless chunks of soil and rocks. The yellowish torrents cascaded down, while loose stones occasionally fell from the mountain peaks, striking exiles and leaving some bloodied. Yet no one dared to stop, forcing themselves to wade forward through the rising waters.

Suddenly, a terrified scream erupted from the group.

Ignoring the pelting rain and falling rocks, Li Zhi peeked through the brocade curtain.

Ahead, a massive landslide was tearing down the slope, kicking up clouds of dust and debris. Behind the carriage, a surge of muddy water appeared from nowhere, rolling menacingly toward them.

“It’s a mudslide!”

Someone’s shout plunged the previously orderly procession into chaos. People scattered like headless flies—some daring to dash forward through the falling rocks, others sprinting back toward the ankle-deep floodwaters in a desperate retreat.

The murky torrent surged with incredible force, and a few exiles slipped in the slimy mud. Before they could climb out, the water engulfed them, filling their noses and mouths.

Those who failed to rise became like stones caught in the current, swept away toward the cliff’s edge.

Zhen Qiao shielded himself from falling debris with one hand as he shouted orders to the panicked crowd.

Meanwhile, the carriage Li Zhi sat in swayed dangerously. The frightened horse refused to move, snorting and stomping its hooves.

A massive boulder suddenly tumbled down the slope, severing the reins between the horse and the carriage.

Before Li Zhi could react, the carriage lost its balance and rolled downhill along with the boulder.

She and Xie Lanxu tumbled together, their bodies colliding painfully. Loose objects crashed onto them, clattering before flying out the shattered wooden lattice windows, vanishing into the unseen depths below.

The cries of the crowd grew fainter as they were carried further away. Li Zhi narrowly avoided falling through the window several times, each escape a hair’s breadth from disaster.

The carriage jolted and splintered apart mid-descent. Li Zhi was thrown from the wreckage, landing amid the debris. Xie Lanxu was beside her, tumbling down the slope together.

Ahead, a jagged rock loomed, poised to strike the back of Xie Lanxu’s head. Without thinking, Li Zhi twisted her body and rolled in front of him, taking the blow herself.

A sharp pain exploded in her shoulder blade, robbing her of the chance to cry out. She could only feel her body continuing its uncontrollable descent.

Suddenly, the ground beneath her disappeared.

Xie Lanxu clung to a crooked tree jutting out from the cliffside, one hand gripping her wrist tightly. His other hand was straining so hard the veins bulged, and his face twisted with effort.

Li Zhi dangled over the precipice, with nothing but the abyss below her.

[precipice is a very steep cliff on a mountain]

Pieces of the shattered carriage and the flailing horse plummeted past her into the dense forest far below, vanishing silently into the depths.

If Xie Lanxu let go, her fate would be no different.

She looked up at him.

The young man’s face was pale, his wide sleeves flapping violently in the wind. He stared back at her, an unreadable glint in his eyes.

“Your Highness…” she said. “Your legs… if you let me go, you’ll have both hands free to climb back up.”

She was gambling.

“And what about you?” Xie Lanxu asked.

Suspended above certain death, Li Zhi smiled at him, her voice calm and reassuring.

“Do not worry, Your Highness. Heaven always leaves a way out. I’ll figure something out.”

“You have no regrets?”

“None,” she replied with a smile.

Rocks continued to fall from above. The longer they hesitated, the more precarious their situation became.

Li Zhi held her breath, waiting for Xie Lanxu’s decision.

Moments later, he tightened his grip on her wrist.

With a suppressed roar, Xie Lanxu summoned all his strength and began to pull her upward. Li Zhi’s eyes widened. Realizing his intent, she extended her free hand, clawing at the rocky surface to gain a hold. Finally, her feet found space on a small outcrop.

“Can you stand?” Xie Lanxu asked.

Li Zhi dared not make any sudden movements and nodded slightly.

Xie Lanxu released her hand. To her astonishment, he flipped his legs deftly, climbing onto the crooked tree. With a smooth leap, he reached the ledge above and knelt down, extending a hand to her.

Still dazed, Li Zhi placed her hand in his.

Gripping her firmly with both hands, Xie Lanxu pulled her upward. As she neared the ledge, Li Zhi scrambled with all four limbs, finally collapsing beside him on the narrow platform.