Chapter 21
For those exiled thousands of miles from their homeland, reaching their destination was far from the end of their suffering.
A peculiar illness plagued many newly arrived exiles—an ailment they referred to as “smoke sickness.” The symptoms included extreme fatigue, nausea, persistent headaches, and, in the later stages, coughing up frothy white or pink phlegm. In severe cases, patients would lapse into unconsciousness.
Some recovered after ten days to two weeks, returning to normal. Others, however, succumbed to the illness, their lives claimed by the harsh conditions of Mingyue Tower.
The exiles believed the disease was caused by inhaling the toxic mist that often shrouded Mingyue Tower.
Typically, it struck those with already weak constitutions. Li Zhi never imagined that Xiangsheng—the strongest and healthiest among the three siblings, a boy who had never so much as sneezed—would be the one to fall victim to it.
Moved by the misfortune that had befallen Xiangsheng and Li Cien in such a short span of time, Lu Xuan allowed Li Cien to take time off from her duties to care of her brother.
During the day, Li Zhi continued her work in Xuan Zhi Courtyard. But as soon as her tasks were done, she rushed to the remote courtyard where the male servants stayed to check on Xiangsheng.
Fortunately, the illness wasn’t contagious, so Xiangsheng’s roommates didn’t ostracize him. When Li Zhi entered the room, she saw one of the boys—a dark-skinned, sun-weathered servant—carrying in a basin of fresh water for Li Cien.
“Thank you…” murmured Li Cien, her eyes red from crying. The boy scratched the back of his head awkwardly, clearly embarrassed.
On the narrow, shabby wooden bed lay Xiangsheng, his face pale and his consciousness fading. A damp cloth rested on his forehead.
Li Zhi touched his forehead and checked his body temperature before reassuring Li Cien. “He’s not running a fever, so there’s no need for anything to lower it.”
Li Cien nodded, looking helpless and lost.
Li Zhi then noticed a piece of steamer cloth draped over Xiangsheng’s nose and mouth. “What’s this for?” she asked.
“I thought… since it’s smoke sickness… maybe covering his nose and mouth would help a little…” Li Cien said hesitantly, unsure of her own reasoning.
Li Zhi sighed and removed the cloth.
“If the air really is the problem, this cloth won’t make a difference,” she said gently.
Without the cloth obscuring his face, Li Zhi could see Xiangsheng’s chapped lips moving as he mumbled something under his breath. She leaned in closer and realized he was calling out for “Mother.”
Li Zhi wanted to say something to comfort him, but the words caught in her throat. In the face of grief as profound as the loss of one’s mother, what could she possibly say that would help?
Whatever she said, it wouldn’t ease even a fraction of his pain.
She couldn’t save him from his sorrow, just as no one had been able to save her from hers.
That night, Li Zhi convinced Li Cien to rest, promising to take her place and watch over Xiangsheng. Once Li Cien returned to her own room, Li Zhi sat by Xiangsheng’s bedside and kept vigil until morning.
The next day, before dawn, Li Cien brought her sister some breakfast. Li Zhi quickly ate the steamed bun and pickled vegetables, then hurried off to resume her duties in Xuan Zhi Courtyard.
For someone like Li Zhi, who had long grown accustomed to sleepless nights, the physical exhaustion wasn’t the hardest challenge.
The real issue was Xiangsheng’s worsening condition. He needed a physician, but she had no money—nothing but the clothes on her back and the status of a mere servant in the Duhu Mansion.
As an exiled criminal, Li Zhi wasn’t even on par with the mansion’s house born slaves, who at least received a meager monthly allowance. For her and others like her, there was no allowance. They were here to serve a sentence. To simply be alive was considered a mercy.
But what if Xiangsheng didn’t survive? What if he couldn’t “tough it out”?
Li Zhi clenched her fists. Could she really stand by and watch her innocent little brother die right in front of her?
When Li Xiang died during the exile journey, there had been nothing she could do. But now, the largest medical clinic in town was just a few miles from the Duhu Mansion.
Surely, there had to be a way.
Perhaps noticing her distraction, Lu Xuan granted Li Zhi permission to leave work early that day.
“Miss…” Li Zhi began, hesitating.
Lu Xuan had already made many exceptions for her. To ask for money as well would surely be crossing the line and putting the kind-hearted girl in a difficult position.
“Is there something else?” Lu Xuan asked, tilting her head curiously.
The head maid and the wet nurse also glanced at her. Their eyes made Li Zhi feel like a greedy, shameless opportunist.
“…No, nothing. This servant takes her leave.”
Li Zhi bowed and left.
Where could she find the money?
Deep in thought, Li Zhi hurried back to Xiangsheng’s room.
The moment she stepped inside, her breath caught in her throat.
Li Cien was holding a packet of pale gray powder, about to pour it into Xiangsheng’s mouth.
“Stop!” Li Zhi called out sharply.
Li Cien froze mid-motion, startled. Li Zhi rushed over, snatched the packet from her hands, and brought it to her nose for inspection.
“This is incense ash!” Li Zhi exclaimed, horrified.
“Brother is so sick—he’s not going to make it!” Li Cien sobbed. “They said the incense ash from the Nuwa Temple works wonders, so I begged someone to give me some…”
“That’s just a baseless rumor!” Li Zhi scolded. “You’ve read books—how could you believe such nonsense?”
“But I… I didn’t know what else to do…”
Seeing her younger sister crying uncontrollably, Li Zhi felt as though a knife was being twisted in her heart.
“Watch over Xiangsheng, and don’t feed him the incense ash. I’ll go get a physician,” Li Zhi said firmly.
“But…”
Li Cien hesitated, her tear-streaked face showing her doubt and fear.
Li Zhi cut her off. “I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.”
Because she was their older sister. Because she was the only person these two children could rely on.
She had to find a way.
After stepping out of the small room, Li Zhi hesitated for a moment before making her decision. She headed toward the eastern courtyard.
The Bamboo Courtyard was a quiet, shaded area surrounded by a dense grove of bamboo. Two maids were silently fetching water and sweeping the ground when they saw Li Zhi approaching. They stopped what they were doing and stood upright, looking at her in confusion.
Li Zhi quickly explained, “Would one of you kindly inform His Highness that an old acquaintance, Li Zhi, is here to see him?”
The two maids exchanged hesitant glances before one of them walked to the main house and whispered something inside. Moments later, a strikingly graceful maid emerged.
“Are you the one requesting to see His Highness?” she asked, her tone calm but distant.
“Yes,” Li Zhi replied, bowing slightly. “I beg you to relay my request.”
Recognizing the other maid’s superior status as the chief maid of the courtyard, Li Zhi maintained a respectful demeanor.
The head maid raised an eyebrow, then asked for Li Zhi’s name and where she worked before disappearing into the house. After a short while, she returned and said, “His Highness has agreed to see you. Come with me.”
Li Zhi followed the head maid into a sunlit room. Without saying another word, the maid bowed to someone inside and then quietly withdrew, leaving Li Zhi alone.
The room was silent.
Li Zhi took a deep breath, stepped forward, and knelt before the figure reclining on the long couch. She lowered her forehead to the ground and spoke in a calm but pleading voice.
“Your Highness, forgive me for disturbing you. I know I am in the wrong, but the situation is dire. I beg you to show mercy and save my brother.”
With her forehead pressed to the floor, Li Zhi couldn’t see Xie Lanxu’s expression or gauge his mood.
The tense silence stretched on, so suffocating that even the faint breeze brushing against her back felt like a venomous snake slithering across her skin.
Her nerves tightened, and beads of sweat formed on her nose.
Finally, Xie Lanxu spoke, his voice calm and indifferent, like a quiet river concealing hidden depths.
“Last time it was your sister. Now it’s your brother. Who will you ask me to save next?”
His tone betrayed no emotion, but Li Zhi cautiously raised her head to meet his gaze.
“There is no one else who can help me but you, Your Highness,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. Her tear-filled eyes looked up at him, as though he were the only lifeline she could cling to in a storm.
Xie Lanxu leaned casually against the crimson wood couch, his expression unreadable as he looked at her.
Behind him, the shadows of bamboo swayed in the twilight, fragmented by the golden light of the setting sun.
“If that’s the case,” he said slowly, “why are you only coming to me now?”
Li Zhi hesitated, her voice faltering. “I thought… I thought Your Highness did not wish to see me.”
“It doesn’t matter when or how you came to see me,” Xie Lanxu said with a faint smile. “After all, I’m a cripple. It’s not like I can run away to anywhere else.”
His self-deprecating words and smile made Li Zhi’s heart tighten, but she said nothing.
She would never forget the sight of him climbing up that gnarled tree with astonishing agility when they had been trapped on the cliffside. His ability to lie through his teeth with a perfectly straight face was a skill she could never hope to match.
Li Zhi moved closer on her knees, cautiously reaching out to hold the hem of his pale moon-white robe.
“Your Highness…” she whispered, her tone imploring.
From his position, Xie Lanxu looked down at the small figure at his feet, her desperate plea reminding him of a fleeting glimpse of a wild cat he’d once seen during their journey.
For some reason, the memory made his fingers itch.
He reached out and lightly patted her head.
Li Zhi froze, startled by the sudden and inexplicable gesture.
The texture of her hair was, of course, different from the soft fur he had imagined. Not quite what he had expected, but… not bad.
“You’re not here, and I’m bored out of my mind. That’s the truth,” Xie Lanxu said, retracting his hand as if nothing had happened. “Tell me, how do you want me to help?”
“I beg Your Highness to lend me three or four taels of silver so I can hire a physician from town,” Li Zhi said.
“And how do you plan to repay me? You don’t even receive a monthly wage,” Xie Lanxu said pointedly.
Li Zhi fell silent.
Though the Bamboo Courtyard appeared modest on the outside, its interior decorations were extravagant and luxurious, reflecting the high status of its occupant. Whatever Xie Lanxu desired, the Duhu Mansion would provide. And anything the mansion couldn’t offer, she had no means to give.
Besides, he wasn’t asking because he expected her to repay him in the conventional sense.
“What does Your Highness want from me in return?” she asked cautiously.
Xie Lanxu tilted his head, a faint smile on his lips. “Take a look around. What do you think I lack?”
Li Zhi lowered her gaze and replied humbly, “This servant is ignorant. Please enlighten me.”
“A bit of amusement,” Xie Lanxu said with a dry laugh.
“…”
“I’m joking,” he said, his smile deepening. “Banban.”
Li Zhi forced herself to smile in response.
Staying cooped up in the Bamboo Courtyard, with no one to scheme against or be schemed upon, was surely a dull existence for someone like Xie Lanxu.
“Very well,” he said finally. “You can come here after your daily duties and serve as my ink-grinding maid.”
His request wasn’t unreasonable, and Li Zhi felt a wave of relief.
She was just about to bow and thank him when his cool hand gently stopped her forehead.
“No need for that,” he said. Turning his head slightly, he called out, “Taozi.”
The head maid from earlier entered the room.
“Give her ten taels of silver,” Xie Lanxu instructed.
Taozi immediately fetched a small bundle containing ten silver ingots and handed it to Li Zhi.
With her brother’s life on the line, Li Zhi had no time to dwell on formalities. She bowed deeply to Xie Lanxu, thanked him, and quickly took her leave, accompanied by Taozi to the courtyard gate.
At the gate, Li Zhi couldn’t help but ask, “Is your name really Taozi (Peach)?”
“Is there a problem?” Taozi replied, raising an eyebrow.
Li Zhi thought better of pressing the matter, shook her head, and hurried out of the courtyard.
After seeing Li Zhi off, Taozi returned to Xie Lanxu’s room.
“Your Highness, the young lady has left,” she reported.
Xie Lanxu didn’t look up. He was toying absentmindedly with a bamboo leaf that had drifted onto his couch. He rolled and folded it between his fingers, leaving it covered in creases.
“Your Highness…” Taozi hesitated before speaking. “Did you name me Taozi because of her?”
Xie Lanxu’s fingers paused.
When he had named the new batch of servants assigned to him, even Lu Han had been shocked. The Bamboo Courtyard was now home to Taozi (Peach), Xigua (Watermelon), Pingguo (Apple), Xueli (Pear)…
[Note: Li Zhi’s name is a homophone for lychee in Mandarin. Her name is 荔知 Lì Zhī and lychee is 荔枝 lì zhī. Her last name is the same character as the ly in lychee.]
“Of course not,” Xie Lanxu said smoothly, glancing at Taozi with a gentle expression. “You’re my father’s student, and because you need to remain inconspicuous for now, I thought of Taozi when I named you.”
The explanation didn’t entirely convince Taozi, but the fact that Xie Lanxu was willing to explain at all was a mark of his respect for her.
She wisely refrained from pressing further and instead changed the subject. “The physician that the Commander arranged for Your Highness has arrived in Mingyue Tower this evening. When would you like to meet him?”
Xie Lanxu didn’t answer her question directly. Instead, he asked, “Do you think Lu Han is sincerely helping me?”
“Commander Lu has governed Mingyue Tower for many years with integrity and righteousness. He has never exploited the people. I believe he is trustworthy,” Taozi replied earnestly.
Xie Lanxu once again started fiddling with the leaf in his hand, neither agreeing with nor denying what Taozi had said.
Taozi’s father had been a personal guard of the deposed Crown Prince. He died protecting the prince during an assassination attempt. Taozi, inheriting her father’s loyalty, remained steadfastly devoted to the Crown Prince—a loyalty that now extended to Xie Lanxu.
For Xie Lanxu, trust was meaningless.
As long as he didn’t trust anyone, he didn’t need to distinguish truth from lies. All he had to do was make others believe that he trusted them.
“Very well,” he said finally. “Arrange it for tomorrow.”
