Chapter 42

Proofreader:- Mim

Hei Huo’s wound was nothing like the three lashes on Li Zhi’s back. They couldn’t heal in a few days. Fortunately, Steward Li, perhaps not entirely devoid of conscience, considered that Hei Huo’s injury had come from ‘serving’ the masters. So, Steward Li granted Hei Huo five days of rest.

Without Hei Huo, the stable where Li Zhi worked lost its most powerful laborer.

By the time they were supposed to finish their shift, Li Zhi and Li Cien were still working in the stable, while outside, the sky had already begun to darken, tinged with the deep colors of night.

Li Zhi wanted to send Li Cien back to sleep earlier, but considering it wasn’t safe for her to walk alone through the dark grasslands, she ultimately decided against it.

“Let’s rest for a bit, Sister Li Zhi.” Li Cien set down her broom, raised an arm, and wiped the sweat from her face. “The stable is almost clean. All we need to do now is move the hay from outside into the stable, and we’ll be done.”

Li Zhi could see that she was too tired to move anymore. The two of them sat down together in a corner of the stable, where the dry grass was still relatively clean.

Li Cien leaned her small head against Li Zhi’s shoulder, her thin body gently rising and falling with her breathing.

“Sister Li Zhi…” she suddenly spoke.

Li Zhi responded softly.

“How exactly did Sister Li Xia die?”

Li Cien stared at the peaceful night beyond the stable. After a moment of silence, she continued, “And during the southern tour with the imperial entourage, what happened to Sister Li Zhi?”

“…Why do you ask?” Li Zhi gently stroked her sister’s smooth hair.

“Because after the southern tour, Sister Li Zhi was never truly happy again.” Li Cien raised her head and, in the hazy strands of drifting night, gazed directly into Li Zhi’s eyes. “Even when she was smiling, it was as if she was crying.”

“Just like Sister Li Zhi now.” she said.

Li Cien stared at her for a long time as if determined to get an answer.

Just at this moment, two soft hisses came from outside the stable. A scattering of footsteps interrupted the sisters’ conversation.

Bathed in the moonlight, Xie Lanxu appeared at the stable entrance.

“Your Highness!” Li Cien cried out. She quickly pulled Li Zhi to her feet.

Li Zhi, unhurried, bowed respectfully to Xie Lanxu. “Your Highness.”

“I just returned from the mines. Seeing the stable still lit, I figured you hadn’t finished yet.” Xie Lanxu’s expression was calm and gentle—completely different from when he was alone with Li Zhi.

Through the stable door, Li Zhi could see Taozi sitting on a waiting bullock cart.

“Your Highness really has good eye. Sister Li Zhi and I are those two unlucky people doing work meant for several others!”

Li Cien’s face was all smiles, her spirits high. The gloom from before was completely gone.

“I’ll stay to help. Little Miss Li you ride the bullock cart back and rest early.” Xie Lanxu said with a smile.

Before Li Zhi could respond, Li Cien was already walking toward the bullock cart outside the stable, as cheerful as a little sparrow.

Taozi gave Xie Lanxu a glance and then drove the bullock cart away, taking Li Cien with her.

When only Li Zhi and Xie Lanxu remained in the stable, Xie Lanxu looked around and asked, “What’s left to do?”

“Move the hay from outside into the stable, and then today’s tasks will be done,” Li Zhi replied.

Xie Lanxu turned and headed outside.

“Your Highness, I’ll do it—”

Li Zhi quickly followed him, but Xie Lanxu shot her a look and said, “You’ll be doing it too, of course.”

Xie Lanxu picked up a bundle of hay stacked outside and turned to carry it in. Li Zhi had no choice but to pick up a bundle herself and follow him. The disparity in strength between men and women, however, could not easily be bridged. Even though she and Li Cien had never shirked their duties before, the addition of Xie Lanxu meant the hay was moved into the empty troughs at twice the usual speed.

In about half an hour, every trough in the stable was full of hay.

After returning Li Cien to the yard, Taozi returned with the bullock cart, waiting outside.

“Let’s go.” Xie Lanxu said as he headed outside.

Li Zhi locked the stable door, climbed onto the bullock cart after him, and sat down. The bullock cart jolted and swayed as it slowly moved forward.

“Did Your Highness come here specifically to help me?” Li Zhi asked.

“I was on my way.” Xie Lanxu, seeming tired, half-leaned against the railing of the bullock cart, his cold and weary gaze turned upward toward the night sky.

Li Zhi mimicked his position, lying down beside him.

The vast night sky was dotted with stars, large and small, their shimmering light creating a grand, majestic painting. It was a painting of vastness, of freedom. In the dark blue heavens, the mist-covered Xian Naiyue Mountain seemed ready to pierce through the sky. The mountain’s snow-capped peak, which had remained untouched for centuries, looked like a fleeting night-blooming cereus flower opening alone in the night.

By comparison, they seemed so insignificant, so ordinary, on this bullock cart.

Where do people go after they die?

Even the most learned scholars said that after death, souls entered the cycle of reincarnation and would be judged by the King of Hell for the sins of their lives. But Madam Qin had said that when people die, they’re simply dead—nothing is left, nothing remains.

Li Zhi longed for an afterlife where she could reunite with her twin sister, yet at the same time, she used Madam Qin’s words to constantly remind herself: “The heavens’ net is vast, its meshes are wide, yet nothing escapes” was merely the comfort of the weak. If she wanted justice, she had to seize it herself.

“How is my bracelet doing?” Li Zhi asked, gazing up at the sky.

“It’s eating well, sleeping well, and it even gained weight when I weighed it yesterday,” Xie Lanxu said.

Li Zhi turned to look at him. He raised his eyebrow at her and added, “Didn’t you ask whether the bracelet was doing well or not?”

Li Zhi did not dwell on the matter. Her gaze focused on a patch of bruising on Xie Lanxu’s lower left jaw.

Because of the angle, she hadn’t seen the bruise earlier.

Clearly, this injury was new—just from today.

“Your Highness, pardon me.”

Li Zhi sat up, lifted Xie Lanxu’s chin, and carefully examined the injury she hadn’t noticed before.

Xie Lanxu remained motionless, allowing her to inspect him. His relaxed expression seemed to suggest that he was enjoying her concern.

Based on Li Zhi’s understanding, the bruise extending downward appeared to be some kind of contusion.

She had no intention of untying his collar to check for injuries further down, but when her finger accidentally brushed against his neckline, Xie Lanxu’s demeanor shifted abruptly. Like a wild beast defending its territory, his entire aura changed, and he suddenly grabbed her wrist.

Li Zhi looked at him in shock.

He held her so tightly that it caused her a slight pain. But what truly startled her was Xie Lanxu’s rare and intense reaction.

For the first time, an icy vigilance appeared on his face, like that of someone confronting a grave threat.

It was as if her surprised expression reminded him of something. Xie Lanxu released her wrist, and that unfamiliar look disappeared completely, like dew in the early morning sun.

Li Zhi couldn’t make sense of that fleeting expression. She only felt as if she had seen a bird startled by a bowstring—a creature on high alert.

“I told you—I only studied the Six Arts for a few years,” Xie Lanxu resumed his usual calm demeanor, as though nothing had happened.

He said nonchalantly, “Someone has offered to teach me again.”

“Who?” Li Zhi asked.

“A kind person.”

Xie Lanxu’s vague answer made it clear that she shouldn’t ask further questions.

To him, Li Zhi was merely another slightly unusual “kind person.”

The crown prince, both virtuous and admired, had left Xie Lanxu an abundance of invisible wealth. Those who gathered around him—whether out of gratitude or opportunism—undeniably provided him with immense help.

As for her, she was walking a path lonelier and more difficult than his.

“Have you thought of your reward yet, for becoming the head maid in three days?” Xie Lanxu asked.

It was an obvious change of subject, but Li Zhi didn’t point it out.

“I thought I hadn’t achieved it.”

“You may not have served a full day, but you did achieve it,” Xie Lanxu replied. “Tell me—I’ll honor the agreement.”

Li Zhi had already thought this through.

“Your Highness holds a noble status and will surely rise to greater heights in the future. People often say that serving a ruler is like serving a tiger. I can’t help but wonder—if one day, Your Highness finds someone who understands you better than I do, what would happen to me? So, I would like Your Highness to promise that if I ever offend you and anger you to the point of wanting me dead, you would spare my life—just once.”

The definition of “offending” was vague, and the scope of “forgiveness” was even more ambiguous.

Xie Lanxu narrowed his eyes, thought for a moment, and, finding no apparent harm in the agreement, finally nodded.

“Fine.”

Li Zhi smiled and said, “Now, I can rest easy staying by Your Highness’s side.”

Amid their intermittent conversation, the bullock cart had unknowingly reached the courtyard where they lived.

Taozi, ever the statue-like figure, faithfully drove the cart without making a single unnecessary sound. It wasn’t until she led the ox away to return the cart that her presence was even remembered.

Li Zhi withdrew her gaze from Taozi and looked at Xie Lanxu, who was brushing dried hay off his clothes.

“Will Your Highness be free tomorrow evening during dinner?”

Xie Lanxu raised his calm eyes and signaled for her to continue.

“Tomorrow isn’t my day on duty. I’d like to invite Your Highness to dinner—if possible, Your Highness can bring Miss Taozi and Miss Xigua as well.”

Xie Lanxu turned and walked toward his room, leaving behind a faint, “Fine.”

Shortly after Li Zhi returned to her room, Li Cien appeared, peeking in cautiously.

“Is His Highness here?” she asked, looking around the room as if afraid to disturb something.

“He left a while ago,” Li Zhi said, half-laughing, half-annoyed. “What are you doing up? Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I was waiting for you to come back, Sister Li Zhi!” Li Cien declared matter-of-factly. Hearing that Xie Lanxu wasn’t around, she immediately crossed the threshold and entered the room.

“You came just in time. I need you to pass a message to your brother,” Li Zhi said. “I’m inviting His Highness to dinner tomorrow evening. If your brother has time during the day, please ask him to hunt some wild meat for me.”

“Simple!” Li Cien agreed immediately. “But… is tomorrow a special day?”

Li Zhi lowered her voice, whispered a few words to her, and then winked. “It’s a secret, alright?”

“Don’t worry, Sister—I’ll keep it a secret!” Li Cien said excitedly.

The next morning, while everyone else went to work at the horse farm, Li Zhi set off into the grasslands with two aunties she had grown close to from frequently cleaning the stables together.

The grasslands were lush, with streams trickling through them. Nature had hidden many gifts within these plains.

With the help of the two women, Li Zhi filled half her basket with fresh red berries and also gathered many wild vegetables and mushrooms.

The two women, both married, also filled their baskets with berries, vegetables, and mushrooms they had picked along the way. As they walked, they shared cooking tips and recipes for preparing these wild greens and mushrooms.

By late morning, with the sun high in the sky, Li Zhi returned fully loaded.

She had decided to showcase her cooking skills during tonight’s dinner.

Notes for Context:

1. “Serving a ruler is like serving a tiger” – This idiom comes from Chinese literature and reflects the dangers of serving someone powerful. A ruler, like a tiger, can be unpredictable and deadly, even toward those who serve him loyally.