Chapter 40

Proofreader : Mim

Li Zhi lay on the bed but couldn’t sleep.

Every night was like this; even when she fell asleep, it would only bring muddled dreams.

She didn’t know how much time each night was actually spent sleeping.

She lay on the bed, eyes open, thinking through everything that had happened during the day, carefully examining each event to check if there were any omissions.

Recalling the last two sentences Xie Lanxu said, she fell into deep thought.

“I hate omens the most in this life, so I will not marry you.”

Putting aside the fact that she had no intention of marrying him, even if they did get married, what did this have to do with an omen?

In this case, there was only one possibility.

Xie Lanxu believed he would ascend the throne. If he married her, it would mean that the omen had come true.

So, to deny the prophecy, he would not marry her.

Why was he so sure of this? How much did he know?

Her thoughts floated up and down in the darkness of the night. When the rooster crowed for the second time, she rose in the dark and lit the oil lamp.

The dim, yellow light brightened the gloomy room. She pushed open the door and walked to the well to draw water and wash up. Before long, Jia Sui also stepped out, followed by Li Xiangsheng, and finally Li Cien, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

In their courtyard, apart from the four of them, only Xie Lanxu and his two maidservants lived there. Since Li Zhi got up the earliest, she simply watered the vegetable garden for Taozi and Xigua, who had yet to appear.

While Li Zhi was watering the garden, Xie Lanxu suddenly returned from outside.

Because of his lineage as a member of the imperial clan, Xie Lanxu did not need to toil with horse manure like her every day. He only had to ensure that trained horses were transported to various places when needed.

She thought he was still sleeping in his room. Seeing him dressed neatly and holding a small bamboo basket, she couldn’t help blurting out, “You’re up already?”

Xie Lanxu seemed unwilling to answer such an obvious question. He gave her a sidelong glance and walked into his room.

Li Zhi put down the ladle and followed him inside.

“Your Highness went to pick herbs for me, didn’t you?”

“No.”

Xie Lanxu answered firmly. Li Zhi stood by the wall and tiptoed to peek at the bamboo basket hanging from a nail. Inside, it was packed with herbs emitting a distinctive odor. She said with certainty, “You definitely picked herbs for me.”

Xie Lanxu replied, unhurried and indifferent, “Fertilizer.”

“What fertilizer?”

“For lychee trees.”

Li Zhi laughed and gave him a formal bow.

“Li Zhi thanks Your Highness for his great care.”

Xie Lanxu made a nonchalant noise and turned his back, saying nothing more.

That basket of herbs turned into a bowl of bitter, foul-smelling medicine, which Xie Lanxu personally brought to her that evening.

With the imperial grandson personally picking herbs for her, how could she complain?

Li Zhi frowned tightly, held her breath, and drank the entire bowl in one gulp.

As soon as she put down the bowl, a golden-yellow candied fruit was presented before her.

Li Zhi looked at Xie Lanxu in surprise, but before she could speak, he shoved the candied fruit into her mouth, as if afraid she would say something foolish. Without a word of explanation, he turned and left.

The next morning, Xie Lanxu brought his medicine box and gauze to change her dressing again.

Under his meticulous care, which he would not admit to, the whip marks on Li Zhi’s back scabbed over and healed within a month. As Xie Lanxu had said, they left only three shallow pink scars.

Li Zhi didn’t mind the scars. Long ago, she had given up on living the life of a normal woman, including finding someone to love and spend her life with. If the scars helped her achieve her goal, she wouldn’t mind having a few more.

During this month, Lu Congruan did not appear again. Li Zhi hoped he would forget about her entirely. In contrast, Moqi Danliao visited the horse farm frequently to check on Xie Lanxu.

Sometimes, Li Zhi felt Moqi Danliao gave her particular attention, as though observing her closely to assess her worth. However, since Moqi Danliao never caused her trouble, Li Zhi gradually grew used to her scrutiny.

One day, which at first seemed no different from any other, newcomers arrived at the horse farm.

A new batch of exiles had been sent to Mingyue Tower. Rumor had it that the infighting among these exiles had been particularly severe. Combined with the usual hunger and freezing conditions, only a quarter of the original group made it to Mingyue Tower alive.

Li Zhi heard this news from the newcomers sent to the horse farm.

At the time, she was in the stables cleaning up the piles of horse manure stacked like small mountains. Steward Li stood at the door with his sleeve over his nose and mouth, waving her out.

When Li Zhi walked out of the stable, she saw four men of varying heights and builds standing there.

“This is a new batch of exiles. They’ve been assigned to work at the horse farm. Sister Tao from the kitchen told me multiple times that you all are overwhelmed with tasks in the stables. Here, pick one to stay; I’ll take the rest with me.”

Li Zhi put down the broom and carefully examined the four men standing in front of her—though, truth be told, her real focus was on only one person.

The only one who wasn’t of Han descent.

This man, a giant standing nearly nine feet tall, had bronze skin, deep-set eyes, a prominent nose, thick lips, and bright white teeth. His appearance was distinctly different not only from the Han Chinese but also from the commonly seen Hu people (northern nomads).

The people of Mingyue Tower were mostly Han, but their skin often turned a tanned bronze after years of sun and rain. This man’s bronze skin tone, however, was innate. Combined with those unforgettable thick lips, Li Zhi strongly suspected this man was one of the “Kunlun slaves” her mother, Madam Qin, had mentioned.

“Him,” Li Zhi said, pointing at the foreigner.

Steward Li and the other three exiles looked stunned. Especially the three who weren’t chosen—they exchanged confused glances as if to confirm they hadn’t misheard.

“You mean him?” Steward Li repeated, disbelief in his voice. It was hard to believe that a frail-looking girl like her would dare to interact with such a terrifying giant.

“Yes, him,” Li Zhi confirmed with a nod.

At that, even the so-called “giant” looked over at her.

Steward Li left the foreigner behind and walked away with the others.

Li Zhi offered a friendly smile to the towering foreigner, who stood before her like a small mountain. “Do you understand me when I speak?”

“I understand. I can speak,” the foreigner replied. His tone was peculiar, and his face remained completely expressionless.

“Alright, I’ll explain your tasks in the stables.”

Li Zhi led the foreigner into the stable and taught him how to clean up manure and wash the horses. The foreigner learned quickly, worked hard, and showed no fear of dirt or exhaustion. Li Zhi observed him closely and became increasingly certain that he was indeed one of the “Kunlun slaves” her mother had described.

“What’s your name?” she asked as he swept up horse manure.

“Hei Huo.”

“Where are you from?”

“From the Ship. Sold.”

Whatever Li Zhi asked, Hei Huo answered directly. However, if Li Zhi didn’t ask, he would remain silent, seemingly resigned to his fate and unwilling to form connections with the outside world.

“Are you from Kunlun?” Li Zhi asked.

“No.”

Such a firm denial took Li Zhi by surprise. She had expected him to at least ask her what Kunlun was.

After answering a few questions, Hei Huo seemed to grow tired of her chatter. No matter what she asked next, he refused to respond.

By mid-morning, Li Cien returned from hauling a cartload of manure to the farm fields.

When she saw the strange new man in the stable, she stopped at the doorway, her eyes widening.

Li Zhi thought she was scared and was about to reassure her that Hei Huo wouldn’t hurt anyone. But before she could say anything, Li Cien let out a loud “Wow!” that broke the silence in the stable.

She ran over, grabbed Li Zhi’s arm, and stared fixedly at Hei Huo. “Amazing! So amazing!”

“What’s amazing?” Li Zhi asked, puzzled.

“Everything about him is amazing!” Li Cien’s eyes sparkled like stars as she unleashed a rapid string of questions at Hei Huo: “Where are you from? What’s your name? How old are you? Can you speak the common tongue? Are all your people this tall, or are you the only one this tall? Can you tell me what your homeland looks like?”

Even Li Zhi was surprised by her enthusiasm. Hei Huo, too, seemed taken aback by the flood of questions. He stood holding his broom, staring at Li Cien for a long moment as if unsure whether he had understood. Then, without saying a word, he lowered his head and continued sweeping.

“Does he not understand?” Li Cien turned to Li Zhi.

“He just arrived. He’s tired,” Li Zhi said, patting her head.

With Hei Huo around, the tasks in the stables ended much earlier than usual that day.

Li Xiangsheng, who had been training horses outside, noticeably passed by the stables more frequently.

He seemed worried that the towering Hei Huo might bully the two weak girls. Every time he passed by, he would shoot wary, threatening glances at the unusually large bronze giant in the stable.

Hei Huo, however, gave no reaction. He was as silent and still as a block of wood.

Li Zhi noticed that the backs of his hands and the skin peeking out from his collar were covered in various scars.

Looking at Hei Huo, she couldn’t help but think of Madam Qin.

Both were people who had ended up stranded in a foreign land. Though their fates had taken vastly different paths, both had ultimately ended up in miserable circumstances. Li Zhi couldn’t say whose fate was luckier.

In the evening, two middle-aged women arrived for the evening shift, chatting and laughing. Li Zhi was just about to greet them when they noticed Hei Huo in the stable.

“Ah! There’s a ghost!”

The two women screamed and turned to flee, leaving Li Zhi awkwardly frozen with her hand half-raised.

She looked at Hei Huo apologetically, but he seemed completely unbothered, continuing to stab at the horse manure with his broom.

The two women soon returned with Steward Li, who had come to see the so-called “ghost.” After much reassurance and with Li Zhi repeatedly speaking in his defense, Hei Huo was allowed to remain in the stables.

For the most part, working with horses was better than serving armored soldiers. At least tending to horses wouldn’t cost someone their life. Serving soldiers, however, often meant living on the edge of death.

After Hei Huo arrived, Steward Li always arranged for his shifts to overlap with Li Zhi and Li Cien.

This was because they were the only ones who treated him with kindness. If Hei Huo worked with others, trouble inevitably followed.

Li Zhi had once witnessed Hei Huo working alongside two local men. By the next day, he had been beaten so badly that he couldn’t get out of bed.

Li Zhi had seen the two men who beat him; they weren’t even as tall as Hei Huo’s chest.

Under normal circumstances, Steward Li would turn a blind eye to petty incidents. However, since this had disrupted their work, he couldn’t ignore it.

Without realizing it, two months had passed since Li Zhi arrived at the horse farm.

That day, Xie Lanxu was tasked with delivering strong horses to the mining camp. Li Zhi was, as usual, battling the horse manure in the stables when the farm suddenly became noisy.

Jia Sui hurried into the stable to inform her, looking uneasy. “Miss, Young Master Lu has brought a whole crowd of people here—”

Notes:

1. “I hate omens the most in this life”: In ancient Chinese culture, 谶言 (omen or prophecy) often foretells significant, unavoidable events, especially involving fate and destiny. For someone of royal blood, a prophecy could be seen as a curse or a predetermined chain of events they might try to reject or resist.

2. Lychee pun: Li Zhi’s name sounds like lychee, which adds a humorous tone to Xie Lanxu’s comment about “fertilizer for lychee trees.” This light wordplay softens their dynamic despite his cold demeanor.