Prince Wu's lips twitched in irritation.
Seeing Shen Wei's reluctant expression, he grew even more annoyed. "This prince noticed your hard work guiding us and specially offered you dry clothes. You ugly—"
Prince Wu had been about to call her an "ugly wretch."
But the words caught in his throat at the last moment.
Once, in his arrogance, he had mocked a fishergirl named Yuan Xi'er as "crude and hideous," driving her to despair and suicide. The guilt of realizing his words had caused such harm haunted him.
Since then, Prince Wu had tried to mend his ways, avoiding insults about appearances.
Swallowing his words, he glared at Shen Wei. "If you don’t want this prince’s clothes, so be it. But the journey is long, and as our guide, you can’t afford to fall ill. Understand?"
Shen Wei nodded silently.
Just then, Yuan Fu darted over, tugging at Shen Wei’s sleeve. "I-I’ll take you to the back to change."
Shen Wei followed Yuan Fu away.
Prince Wu narrowed his eyes, watching the two suspiciously. Since when had that brat Yuan Fu grown so close to the guide?
The more he thought, the more suspicious Shen Wei—or "Shen Wei"—seemed. Prince Wu quietly summoned his guard, Fifth Zhang, and whispered, "Earlier, I tasked you with investigating Shen Wei. Did you uncover his background?"
Fifth Zhang shook his head. "No."
Prince Wu fumed. "Useless! Can’t even handle such a simple task?"
Fifth Zhang spread his hands helplessly. "Your Highness, our estate is poor. We barely have the means to track a lost cat, let alone dig into someone’s origins."
Any formidable intelligence network required substantial financial backing.
Prince Wu’s coffers were empty, and his few guards could barely ensure his safety. Investigating identities demanded resources they simply didn’t have.
Covering his face, Prince Wu sighed in frustration.
...
In a small backroom, Yuan Fu lit a fire while Shen Wei quickly shed her damp clothes to dry them.
Her current body was fragile—even slight exposure to wind or sun could make her ill.
She couldn’t afford to fall sick.
Night fell, and the dilapidated post station leaked wind and rain, droplets pattering from the eaves. The group huddled in a large room, sharing the fish stew Yuan Fu had cooked before settling down to sleep.
Shen Wei warned Prince Wu, "Post guards in shifts at the entrance tonight."
Prince Wu scoffed. "We’re in the middle of nowhere. Is that necessary?"
Shen Wei replied coolly, "Better safe than sorry."
They were near Wenzhou, a region plagued by bandits and refugees.
Those desperate outlaws cared nothing for authority—if they spotted profit, they’d swarm like locusts, killing and looting without hesitation.
Prince Wu’s convoy had three carriages, two laden with tribute. An easy target.
Scratching his head, Prince Wu relented. "Fine. Fifth Zhang, arrange shifts for the night."
The guard hurried off to organize the watch.
Prince Wu studied Shen Wei—this plain-looking fisherboy, barely fifteen or sixteen, had displayed remarkable caution throughout the journey.
Far beyond his years.
More like a seasoned veteran.
Who exactly was Shen Wei?
The rain continued as the group drifted to sleep. Shen Wei drowsily leaned against a pillar, wrapped in a thick fishskin cloak. Yuan Fu curled up beside her, clinging to her leg, fast asleep.
Deep into the night, a cold draft roused Yuan Fu.
Rubbing his eyes, he instinctively reached for Shen Wei’s cloak, mumbling, "Elder sister... cover up. It’s freezing."
When she didn’t respond, he peered at her face—and noticed her labored breathing. His hand flew to her forehead.
Burning hot.
Yuan Fu gasped. "Elder sister!"
...
After enduring wind and rain, Shen Wei’s frail body gave in. That night, a high fever consumed her.
Her mind fogged, her body scorched as if trapped in flames.
When she next opened her eyes, she found herself on a simple bed in a shabby room, sunlight filtering through cracks in the window.
An old brocade quilt covered her.
Struggling to sit up, she startled Yuan Fu, who’d been dozing beside the bed. He blinked awake, then beamed. "Elder sister! You’re awake! Thank the sea gods!"
Shen Wei tried to speak—but her throat burned like knives, her voice gone.
"Prince Wu gave you his medicine for colds. You scared me so much!" Yuan Fu’s eyes welled up.
Shen Wei pointed at her throat, signaling her voicelessness.
Yuan Fu’s heart ached. "It’s temporary. Rest now—I’ll brew more medicine."
He dashed out.
Shen Wei massaged her temples, her head still swimming. Then she glanced down—and froze.
She wore a loose, slightly worn Shu brocade robe.
Only Prince Wu owned such fine garments.
Dread pooled in her stomach.
The door burst open. Prince Wu stormed in, his glare piercing. "Yuan Xi'er!"
Shen Wei: "..."
Prince Wu huffed. "No wonder you seemed familiar! You disguised yourself as a boy to sneak into my retinue! Did you really think I wouldn’t notice your schemes?"
Shen Wei’s pulse spiked.
Had he discovered her plan to infiltrate the tribute mission and return to Qing State?
Yuan Xi'er was supposed to be dead. Shen Wei’s soul had only taken over her body by chance.
"Coming back to life" was unnatural—no wonder Prince Wu doubted her.
But as she scrambled for an explanation, Prince Wu sneered, "You joined us just to lust after me, didn’t you?"
Shen Wei stared blankly.
Lust... after him?
He wasn’t even as handsome as Li Yuanjing. What was there to lust over?
Prince Wu paced, his long braid swaying. "Admit it—you planned to sneak into my bed and force a marriage, didn’t you?"
"That’s why you kept staring at me! Shameless!"
Shen Wei wanted to retort—but her weakened body and ruined voice left her helpless.
