Chapter 39

Proofreader : Mim

 

The three rooms were allocated as follows: Li Zhi and Li Xiangsheng each occupied a room, while Jia Sui and Li Cien shared one.

Li Zhi’s room happened to be next to Xie Lanxu’s—apparently, the room had been left vacant specifically for him, but she ultimately benefited from the arrangement.

In truth, the injuries on her back weren’t that severe. Lu Congruan hadn’t been able to bring himself to strike her with full force.

After applying the medicine, Li Zhi felt much better.

—-

The next morning, as soon as the rooster crowed, Li Zhi got up. She was about to head out to find Steward Li to ask about her work assignment when a soft knock came at her door.

From the sound of the knock, she could guess who it was. Li Zhi quickly walked to open the door.

As expected, it was Xie Lanxu.

Though he had changed into fresh clothes, he was still dressed in commoners’ attire. However, the fabric was clearly new, and the material looked much softer than the usual coarse cloth of such garments.

“Your Highness, is there something you need?”

In his hand, Xie Lanxu held a bowl of steaming hot medicinal soup. Even standing at a distance, the distinct bitter and acrid smell of the medicine wafted into Li Zhi’s nose.

“Where are you planning to go?” he asked.

“I was going to find Steward Li,” Li Zhi replied. “He didn’t assign me any work yesterday, so I thought I’d go and ask him…”

“Drink this first.”

Xie Lanxu handed her the bowl of medicine. Li Zhi couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose at the smell.

She considered herself someone who could endure hardship, but this bowl of medicine smelled far worse than anything she had ever encountered.

“Can’t drink it?” Xie Lanxu’s gaze pinned her in place.

Fearing he might grow suspicious, Li Zhi quickly replied, “I can drink it!”

Taking a deep breath, she braced herself and gulped down the entire bowl in one go, as if cutting off her own escape route.

“Done…” She pulled a face, grimacing from the bitterness.

Xie Lanxu glanced at her, then turned and left without saying another word.

Li Zhi stood there holding the empty bowl, stunned. What exactly was he here for? And more importantly, who was she supposed to return the bowl to?

Stepping outside her room, Li Zhi found Jia Sui stomping out a few sparks that had flown out of the stove. When Jia Sui saw her holding the bowl, she rushed over, her face lighting up with joy.

“Miss!” she blurted out in her excitement, before quickly correcting herself. “How are you feeling after drinking the medicine?”

“The injury wasn’t serious to begin with,” Li Zhi reassured her with a smile. “After drinking the medicine, I don’t feel much of anything anymore.”

“That’s a relief. Yesterday, when I saw how pale you were, I was so worried…”

“It’s fine.” Li Zhi patted her hand gently, comforting her. “But it’s been hard on you, Jia Sui.”

Realizing that Li Zhi was referring to the effort of preparing the medicine, Jia Sui hastily waved her hands and explained, “No, no! It wasn’t hard for me at all. But… it was His Highness who personally went out before dawn to gather the herbs for the medicine.”

“You’re saying… His Highness picked the herbs himself?”

Jia Sui nodded earnestly.

Li Zhi was taken aback. Just as she was about to say something, Steward Li strode into the courtyard.

“Where are the others?” Steward Li asked, frowning as he looked around.

“Here we are!”

Li Cien and Li Xiangsheng emerged from their rooms, looking like they had just finished tidying themselves up.

“Alright, everyone’s here. Let me explain your tasks at the horse farm,” Steward Li said with a nod.

“Please, go ahead,” Li Zhi replied, adopting a respectful posture of attentiveness.

“The horse farm is big, and while there’s a lot of work, the tasks are straightforward. Just think of these horses as the masters you’re here to serve. If there’s something you don’t understand, ask the more experienced workers. If you still don’t get it, come ask me. But if I catch any of you slacking off or causing trouble… don’t blame me for reporting you to the Duhu Mansion!”

After giving them a stern warning, Steward Li began assigning duties to each of them.

Jia Sui was tasked with washing the horses, Li Xiangsheng was assigned to training them, while Li Zhi and Li Cien were responsible for cleaning out the stables.

Once the assignments were handed out, the four of them immediately got to work.

The stable that Li Zhi and Li Cien were assigned to was farther away from their living quarters. The upside was that it wasn’t as foul-smelling due to the distance, but the downside was that it required them to wake up even earlier. Walking to the stable took the time it took for two sticks of incense to burn.

According to Steward Li, starting tomorrow, everyone had to wake up at yinshi (3–5 a.m.).

Anyone who was late three times would be sent back to the Duhu Mansion for punishment.

When Li Zhi arrived at the stables, it didn’t take her long to figure out the preferences of the other workers assigned to the same stable. Most of them were local farmers or members of military households. In fact, people like Li Zhi—exiled slaves—were a minority.

The horse farm housed over a thousand fine steeds, but with relatively few workers, the result was constant busyness. There was little time for scheming or idle chatter; everyone was consumed by their daily battle with piles of horse manure.

Working alongside Li Zhi and Li Cien were two middle-aged women. Thankfully, they were simple and good-natured people. With Li Zhi and Li Cien’s sweet words and polite demeanor, it didn’t take long for the women to warm up to them.

Despite the laborious nature of the work, Li Zhi found herself somewhat at ease. After all, she had been through far worse.

It wasn’t the first time she had gotten her hands dirty for survival, nor would it be the last.

Each day at the horse farm was physically exhausting, but the straightforward nature of the tasks brought a rare sense of clarity. There were no tangled webs of intrigue, no schemes lurking in the shadows—only the rhythmic repetition of work.

However, she couldn’t help but feel a faint unease.

Though the tasks were mundane, the presence of Xie Lanxu in this remote place, seemingly blending into the background yet always standing apart, was a constant reminder that something greater was at play.

Even in the simplicity of the farm, his existence was like the moon on a cloudless night—impossible to ignore.

Although she had left the Duhu Mansion, Li Zhi found that, apart from the smellier working conditions, spending her days among horses with their big, innocent eyes gave her a rare sense of relaxation.

Animals, after all, had far fewer schemes than most humans. And most humans, in turn, had far fewer schemes than Xie Lanxu.

Li Zhi had wanted to thank Xie Lanxu, and perhaps ask why he had gone to the trouble of personally gathering herbs for her medicine. But before she knew it, her day was consumed by endless tasks, and the sun had already set, leaving her no time to seek him out for answers.

Thankfully, her injuries were only superficial, not deep enough to cause any lasting harm. Otherwise, she might have collapsed that day amidst the overwhelming stench of horse manure.

If she hadn’t cleaned the stables herself, she never would have imagined how much waste a single horse could produce in one day—let alone how many horses there were in a single stable, each adding to the seemingly endless piles.

While Li Zhi managed to adapt fairly quickly, Li Cien was having a much harder time. After finally finishing cleaning out one stall, just as she was about to leave, she turned around to see the horse wagging its tail and dropping fresh manure right where she had just cleaned.

Li Cien’s scream, followed by the laughter of Li Zhi and the two older women working alongside them, echoed far and wide.

As Li Zhi busied herself with the task of cleaning manure, she occasionally saw Li Xiangsheng passing by on horseback.

His task of training horses was far more dangerous than hers. As a first-time trainer, Li Xiangsheng had already been thrown off a horse six times in just one day—at least from what Li Zhi had witnessed.

The wild horses he worked with were twice his size, and one misstep could result in serious injury or even death under the weight of a horse’s hooves. Fortunately, his falls thus far had all been minor.

Time passed quickly amidst the endless work, and before long, day turned to night.

When Li Zhi finished her shift, Li Xiangsheng was still galloping around the training grounds. Compared to the clumsy chaos of his morning attempts, he now rode with noticeably more confidence and skill.

“Brother, time to go home!” Li Cien called out cheerfully, waving to him.

“Just one more lap!” Li Xiangsheng’s voice carried on the evening breeze across the grasslands.

“Brother has always dreamed of learning to ride a horse. Now his wish has finally come true,” Li Cien said with a smile, covering her mouth to stifle a laugh.

Li Zhi couldn’t help but smile too.

No matter the place or the circumstances, as long as her family was together, there was no hardship they couldn’t overcome.

She firmly believed this.

After finishing his last lap, Li Xiangsheng dismounted and jogged over to Li Cien, taking the towel she handed him to wipe the sweat from his face. He greeted Li Zhi as well.

“…Big Sister Li Zhi,” he said respectfully.

The three of them waited for Jia Sui, who was the last to finish her shift, before heading back together to the servants’ quarters.

On the way, Li Zhi was bombarded with repeated concerns about her back injury. Despite her many reassurances that it was fine, Jia Sui still teared up, her eyes red with guilt and worry.

When they arrived back at their quarters, Li Xiangsheng took it upon himself to fetch water, bringing a bucket to each of their rooms.

Li Zhi, with her injuries still healing, could only manage to wash her face and use a damp towel to clean the areas where she had sweated.

As she finished tidying up and was about to put her clothes back on, she heard a familiar knock at the door.

Hastily slipping on her outer garment, she went to open the door.

Standing outside was Xie Lanxu, holding a clean white cloth in one hand and the same jar of medicinal ointment she had seen before in the other.

“Close the door,” he said, stepping inside as if it were his own room.

Li Zhi glanced at the darkening sky outside, then closed the door and slid the latch into place.

It seemed Xie Lanxu was accustomed to guarding against everyone, trusting no one.

The horse farm was far from Mingyue Tower, surrounded by nothing but wilderness. There wasn’t even a nearby village, let alone a wandering physician.

The only medicines available on the farm were the cheap remedies kept by the steward. The high-quality ointments Xie Lanxu used were his own, carefully guarded.

He was extremely cautious, particularly about anything that might be tampered with—be it food or medicine. The ointment he brought for Li Zhi was clearly part of his personal stash.

Whenever he treated her wounds, he always brought the medicine himself and took it back afterward, ensuring no one else ever handled it.

“It’s starting to scab,” Xie Lanxu said as he gently applied the ointment to her back.

“With Your Highness personally treating me, if my injuries didn’t heal quickly, I’d truly be ungrateful,” Li Zhi quipped, hugging her knees as she sat on the stool. She deliberately used lighthearted humor to ease the awkwardness of being alone in a room with him.

“It might leave a scar,” he said. “Do you care?”

“Does Your Highness care?” Li Zhi countered.

“I don’t.”

“Then I don’t either,” she replied with a smile.

Xie Lanxu set the ointment aside and picked up the white cloth to bandage her wounds. The positioning was awkward, requiring his hands to move across her chest. Yet, whether intentionally or not, he remained completely proper in his actions.

Despite her initial tension, Li Zhi realized there was nothing to fear. His movements were clean and efficient, with no unnecessary contact.

“All done.”

At his words, Li Zhi quickly pulled her clothing back on. Xie Lanxu, ever considerate, turned his back to give her privacy.

“Your Highness, thank you…” Li Zhi began after adjusting her clothes.

“I heard,” she continued, “that the herbal medicine I drank this morning was personally gathered by Your Highness.”

Xie Lanxu, who had been about to open the door to leave, paused mid-step.

“Just something I did in passing,” he said calmly. “No one else here knows how to identify medicinal herbs.”

“Your Highness’s kindness is beyond what I deserve,” Li Zhi said, bowing slightly.

Her words were meant as a polite expression of gratitude, but Xie Lanxu seemed to take them more seriously than she had intended. He stared at her, as if deep in thought.

“Your Highness?” Li Zhi asked cautiously.

“What if there were a way to repay me?”

“Pardon?”

“I’ve heard,” Xie Lanxu said slowly, “that when you and your sister were born, there was a celestial phenomenon—night-blooming flowers blossomed all across the capital. A diviner left behind a prophecy, saying that one of you has the destiny of a phoenix.”

Li Zhi remained silent, her mind racing.

“What are you thinking?” Xie Lanxu asked, his expression showing genuine curiosity.

“…I’m wondering,” Li Zhi hesitated before speaking, “if Your Highness might be considering taking me as your wife?”

This time, it was Xie Lanxu’s turn to fall silent.

After a long pause, he looked at her, his expression complex.

“Of all the people I’ve met,” he said at last, “you have the most… vivid imagination.”

Li Zhi: “…”

Well, at least he didn’t outright call her delusional.

“I detest prophecies more than anything else,” Xie Lanxu said.

He paused, locking eyes with her, and continued slowly, “I would never marry you.”

Li Zhi was momentarily stunned. She hadn’t expected such a blunt response.

Then, she smiled.

“Rest assured, Your Highness—I wouldn’t dare to entertain such a thought.”

Her intention was to reassure him, but Xie Lanxu’s expression darkened. His brows furrowed, casting a shadow over his already somber eyes.

After spending enough time with him, Li Zhi recognized this as a sign of displeasure.

“Your Highness—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Xie Lanxu turned abruptly, unlatched the door, and left without looking back.

Li Zhi stood at the doorway, pretending to watch him leave with a wistful expression.

Once he was out of sight, she shut the door, bolted the latch, and climbed into bed without a second thought, falling asleep without a care in the world.