"Is this the most prosperous city in Jiangnan? It's so lively!"
The young girl darted between vendors, her almond-shaped eyes sparkling like stars, her lips curved into a lovely smile. The hem of her pink dress brushed against the bluestone pavement as she laughed with boundless curiosity and joy.
Zhao Rongyue followed at a leisurely pace, her lips lightly upturned in a serene smile. "Shuxing, be careful not to bump into anyone."
"I know, I won’t cause trouble," Zhao Shuxing replied, running back to loop her arm through her sister’s. She gently touched Zhao Rongyue’s slightly rounded belly, her voice laced with concern. "Sister, your health isn’t good. I could’ve attended the merchant meeting alone—why did you insist on coming?"
"I know business better than you do. You’re too playful—I can’t trust you with this yet."
Zhao Shuxing huffed but couldn’t argue. "Fine, I’ll learn properly from you."
Zhao Rongyue chuckled softly. "Good, I believe in you."
Zhao Shuxing beamed again, though her expression soon turned worried. "Sister, if you feel unwell, go rest in the carriage. Don’t push yourself walking with me."
Zhao Rongyue shook her head. "Don’t worry, I know my limits."
Zhao Shuxing glanced once more at her sister’s belly, unease still gnawing at her.
After waking from a severe illness, she had forgotten many things—even the memory of her brother-in-law had grown hazy.
Everyone told her that while she was unconscious, her brother-in-law had passed away from illness. She grieved for her sister, but Zhao Rongyue proved stronger than anyone expected.
At least, Zhao Shuxing had never seen her shed a tear.
Perhaps heaven wished to leave Zhao Rongyue a keepsake, for soon after, she discovered she was pregnant. Logically, her frail body shouldn’t have been able to carry a child, yet for some inexplicable reason, her health had improved dramatically. The physicians called it a miracle.
Naturally, Zhao Rongyue decided to keep the child.
As nightfall approached, Zhao Rongyue presented their travel permits. The city had people arranged by Lord Chu to guide merchants to their pre-booked inn.
Behind the two young women trailed a silent, cloaked guard, wrapped in black robes like a shadow—mute and motionless, akin to the walking dead.
Along the way, Zhao Shuxing marveled at the exotic sights: boldly dressed Western merchants, golden-haired and blue-eyed Hu Ji, and crowds tossing wooden plaques tied with red ribbons onto an ancient banyan tree.
Yet among these novelties, she saw no sign of the Miaojiang people.
"Sister, are those Miaojiang man and the Central Plains woman you mentioned also in Yangcheng?" Zhao Shuxing had heard Zhao Rongyue speak of friends she’d made by chance—especially the tale of the Miaojiang youth and the Central Plains maiden who were lovers, which intrigued her most.
Zhao Rongyue smiled. "Miss Chu is from Yangcheng. Young Master Ninth likely followed her back to her homeland. By now, he’s probably already met her family."
Zhao Shuxing still struggled to imagine it. "Everyone says Miaojiang people are terrifying. To think a girl would dare to be with one—I’d love to see what they look like."
At the mention of the Miaojiang man and the Central Plains woman, an elderly man hidden in a corner of the bustling inn lifted his gaze, fixing it on the gentle figure of Zhao Rongyue.
Deep in the night, when all was silent, Zhao Rongyue lay fast asleep, her slender frame curled beneath the blankets, hands instinctively cradling her belly. Moonlight filtered through the window lattice, casting faint patterns on her delicate face. Her long lashes fluttered slightly, as if even her dreams held tender ripples.
Unnoticed, a shadowy figure materialized at her bedside, reaching toward her head.
If she knew that Miaojiang man, perhaps she could lead him to more useful information.
The moment his wrinkled hand touched her forehead, the old man’s consciousness invaded her mind.
A spring courtyard, apricot blossoms drifting from the branches.
A tall young man in white scholar’s robes stood with his back turned, the ribbon tying his hair fluttering gently in the breeze. His demeanor was gentle, bearing both scholarly refinement and an unyielding spirit—a seamless blend of contrasts.
He caught a falling blossom, and as he turned, the suspended apricot flowers transformed into sharp blades hurtling toward the intruder.
"Get out."
Already injured and weakened by an unresolved poison, the old man staggered back, blood rising in his throat as the floral onslaught struck.
In the blink of an eye, spring vanished, replaced by a cold moon rising over an endless expanse of blue water. A lone apricot tree swayed in the wind, its reflection shimmering below, creating an ethereal, dreamlike scene.
Beneath the tree stood a black-clad youth with the same face as the scholar, yet his aura was utterly different—cold, ruthless, sharp as a blade forged in ice, his presence radiating an unapproachable chill.
"You seek death."
The moment his eyes opened, the moon shattered. The tranquil waters surged into towering waves, freezing everything in their path to frost.
Behind his mask, the old man’s face drained of color. His consciousness convulsed violently as the icy onslaught cracked his mental barriers, threatening to shatter him entirely in this frozen illusion.
Zhao Rongyue stirred at the strange noise, opening her eyes to find the window ajar.
Beside it, a pool of dark blood stained the floor.
That seemingly fragile woman’s mind housed two formidable consciousnesses!
What kind of madness was this?
Two men and one woman—how did they coexist?
The old man’s injuries worsened, his organs feeling as though they’d been crushed. His mask had fallen at some point, and after barely two steps, he coughed up another mouthful of blood, his frail body swaying like a leaf in the wind.
He needed a quiet place to recover—fast.
Nearby, furtive noises broke the silence.
"Miss, be careful! Don’t fall!"
Perched on a ladder, Li Furong clutched a wooden plaque inscribed with a wish, wobbling precariously. She glared down. "Hold it steady! If I fall, I’m docking your wages!"
Her maid grimaced. "Miss, isn’t this a bit… unethical?"
Li Furong had stealthily removed all the wish plaques others had tied to the tree, piling them on the ground. The hour had passed midnight—it was now the fifteenth of the month, and Li Furong was determined to be the first to make a wish, with hers hung the highest.
"Stop nagging! Everyone says this tree is magical. Before Chu Yangzi ran away from home, I saw her secretly wishing to marry soon—and she did!" Li Furong eyed the highest branch, preparing to toss her plaque. "I’m wishing for my brother’s good health."
Just a pampered young lady with too much time on her hands.
The old man didn’t want to draw attention, so he turned to leave in another direction. Suddenly, something flew from behind and struck the back of his head.
With a thud, the old man collapsed, unconscious.
"Oh no, Miss! We’ve killed someone!"
"Stop shouting! Be quiet!" Li Furong panicked, hastily climbing down the ladder. Lifting her skirts, she rushed over and carefully turned the old man onto his back. His aged face was covered in blood, and she froze in terror.
Her maid was beside herself. "Miss, what do we do? If people find out you’ve killed someone, no one will dare propose marriage to you!"
No proposals meant she’d never marry—which also meant she’d forever be beneath Chu Yangzi!
Unacceptable!
Li Furong tentatively reached out and checked the old man’s breath. "He’s still alive. Take him back with us first!"
