They met in Suzhou. Zhao Ziheng dressed like a dandy and acted like one too, but his character was refreshingly forthright and generous. Even after she beat him to a pulp, he could still call her 'brother,' which was truly rare.
Bai Shiqi had once asked about his family situation. He had said, "I rely on my ancestors' legacy to dabble in some leisurely business," and since he came from the capital, she assumed his elders were merchants, able to fund his idle extravagance.
In truth, the two were genuine partners in mischief, sharing food, drink, fun, and admiring girls, but never touching upon anything serious.
Zhao Ziheng never seemed very reliable. At this moment, his eyes were evasive, and he stammered, "My... my cousin is... well, an official."
Bai Shiqi: "What rank?"
As a member of the lowly Canal Gang, Bai Shiqi escorted tribute grain north every year and had to deal with officials big and small at checkpoints along the way. Even a petty ninth-rank official could demand bribes and create obstacles in front of her. She had long understood the hardships of commoners.
Zhao Ziheng: "...Discussing rank is so vulgar!" A prince is above the official ranking system. He wondered if saying it would shock the unruly Bai Shiqi.
Bai Shiqi kicked him: "Stop pretending! Your cousin looks like a complete stick-in-the-mud, hardly the type to curry favor with superiors. And with that stern, 'worried about the nation and its people' look, his rank probably isn't very high, right?"
In her mind, she had already sketched the image of Zhao Wujiu as an inflexible, upright man who didn't know how to network, toiled year after year without promotion, yet remained dutiful. "It's fine. Even a sixth or seventh-rank official is much better than a commoner like me."
The class barriers were rigid; the status of an official and hers, a grain escort on the canal boats, were worlds apart.
The "worried about the nation and its people" stick-in-the-mud next door: "..."
Zhao Ziheng laughed nervously, "...That's about right." A prince's superior is the Emperor, also his father and sovereign. His cousin... probably didn't need to muster the effort to fawn over his own father, did he?
The experienced Bai Shiqi scolded him with a laugh: "You should really curb this habit of bragging!" Officials in the capital were a dime a dozen; you could throw a brick and hit several fourth-rank ones. Zhao Ziheng had a boasting problem. If she pressed further about Zhao Wujiu's rank, it would be like stripping him of his pride. Making a brother lose face was not good.
She stopped probing and brought up going ashore, tempting Zhao Ziheng: "The next town is really lively! Food, drink, fun—it has everything. Will you stay on the boat practicing horse stance, or go ashore to play?"
Zhao Ziheng didn't need to think: "We can't just go play and leave my cousin on the boat, can we?"
Zhao Wujiu would definitely not agree to him running around!
Bai Shiqi thumped her chest in assurance: "Leave that to me."
After Zhao Ziheng practiced horse stance for two more days, and Shu Changfeng searched the canal boat for Bai Shiqi several times without finding her hiding spot, the boat finally docked at a rather bustling town to replenish supplies of fruits and vegetables.
As the canal boat moored at the dock, Bai Shiqi popped out and personally went next door to see Zhao Wujiu, beaming enthusiastically: "Cousin, bored out of your mind, right? Let's go ashore for a walk." She immediately went to push the wheelchair.
Shu Changfeng hurried forward to stop her: "Young Gang Leader Bai, my master does not intend to go ashore."
Bai Shiqi paid no heed, pushing the wheelchair forward while reproaching Shu Changfeng: "What do you know? Staying cooped up all day in a confined space can easily mess with a person's mind! You, as subordinates, not only fail to ease your master's worries and find ways to cheer him up, but you actually stop him from going out. You're terribly incompetent! If you're worried about safety, gather everyone to follow and provide protection along the way!"
Zhao Wujiu had never encountered someone who acted so unilaterally in front of him, making decisions for him without even asking for his opinion. He was so astonished he momentarily forgot to refute her words and was already pushed out of the cabin.
Outside, the morning sun was rising, and the dock was a scene of bustling activity. As Bai Shiqi pushed him down the gangplank, she shot a glance at Uncle Guan and instructed, "Buy plenty of vegetables, fruits, and meat. Don't delay too long!"
Uncle Guan replied respectfully, "Have fun, Young Gang Leader. Leave these matters to me."
Bai Shiqi pushed Zhao Wujiu's wheelchair off the boat and met up with Zhao Ziheng, who had already bounced onto the dock.
Seeing her push Zhao Wujiu off the boat, the latter's expression stern and seemingly very displeased, with Shu Changfeng and a bunch of hastily gathered guards chasing after them with a menacing, almost fight-ready posture, Zhao Ziheng—recalling Bai Shiqi's guarantee—couldn't help but sweat for her. He waved from afar: "Shiqi, over here!"
Bai Shiqi pushing the wheelchair and his loud shout immediately drew the gazes of everyone on the dock. Seeing Zhao Wujiu in the wheelchair, they stared curiously without stopping.
After losing sensation in his legs, Zhao Wujiu had long anticipated such a day. He lived in seclusion, sometimes growing paranoid, feeling even the looks from his personal attendants were off. Those silent palace servants who came to deliver meals and water seemed to let their gazes linger on his legs every time.
Proud as he was, it felt like thorns at his side. Eventually, even his personal attendants were dismissed. Only the guards he brought from the army remained to care for him, which finally brought some peace.
He sat rigidly in the wheelchair. If not for the need to maintain his pitiful dignity, he might have erupted in anger publicly. Restraining himself, he merely squeezed out two words: "Go back."
Zhao Ziheng, having just reached them, predictably heard these two words. He was so frightened he actually pulled one foot back, playing deaf and dumb, deciding not to be the nail that sticks out, lest he get another beating from Shu Changfeng later.
Bai Shiqi leaned close to Zhao Wujiu's ear and whispered in retort, "Cousin, go back where? Back to the boat or back home to the capital? Hide in your room for a lifetime?"
Her warm breath brushed Zhao Wujiu's ear. For a moment, he almost suspected she might touch it. This man who had long walked the knife's edge felt a strange, eerie shudder, an indescribable odd sensation.
The anger Bai Shiqi had stirred up by taking matters into her own hands actually dissipated considerably. He also found himself at a loss for words and, without another word, let Bai Shiqi push him away.
The guards, having heard Shu Changfeng's summons that Bai Shiqi planned to take the Prince out for a stroll, were nearly scared out of their wits. They rushed over ready to follow orders, only to find Bai Shiqi speaking intimately close to their master, and their master showing no signs of anger, actually allowing himself to be pushed along. They were utterly bewildered, casting questioning looks at Shu Changfeng.
Shu Changfeng: I'd like to know what to do too!
Ever since his master lost sensation in his legs, he rarely even stepped out of his room. If not for the journey south to seek famous doctors, he probably wouldn't have left at all.
The entourage trailed far behind Zhao Wujiu, fanning out, scouting the surroundings while remaining vigilant to protect their master's safety during this outing.
Zhao Ziheng, keenly aware of the weight of his responsibility, set aside his playful demeanor. Only Bai Shiqi remained oblivious to the underlying gravity of the situation, pushing Prince Zhou's wheelchair with great delight. When they came across various street snacks, she would considerately ask, "Cousin, would you like to try some?" Without waiting for his refusal, she would already have thrust a steaming hot sesame pastry into his hand.
Poor Prince Zhou, raised in the palace with the utmost luxury and later serving in the military, had always had his daily needs meticulously attended to by others. Being a man of extreme self-discipline, when had he ever experienced such an impropriety as eating while walking?
Bai Shiqi, utterly ignorant of the refined dignity of the imperial family, took a bite of her own crispy, fragrant pastry, its filling juicy and savory. She sighed with satisfaction, "It's a pity Old Hu doesn't know how to make these."
Old Hu was the chef she had specially brought from Suzhou for the voyage, skilled in authentic Suzhou cuisine, which was vastly different from northern fare. When it came to roasting lamb, however, he was far inferior to the chefs in the capital.
Zhao Ziheng ate with relish, praising his good friend incessantly, "Shiqi, when it comes to finding good food, you're the one to ask."
"Right back at you," Bai Shiqi replied, not daring to claim sole credit for the title of 'wastrel.' Looking down, she noticed Zhao Wujiu holding the oil-paper-wrapped pastry as if unsure how to proceed. She found this amusing. "Cousin, try it. The meat filling in Sister-in-law Wu's pastries is specially seasoned. You won't find this flavor anywhere else." With a touch of roughness, she snatched the oil paper package from his hand and held the pastry right up to his lips.
The aroma of the pastry rushed into his nostrils. Days of light Suzhou-style dishes on the boat had left Zhao Wujiu, accustomed to stronger flavors, feeling utterly deprived. Almost involuntarily, he took a bite, then suddenly looked around, like a wild beast eating in the mountains, habitually maintaining his vigilance.
He had expected people to be shocked by his current, pitiable state—crippled in both legs—and even more so by his act of eating a pastry on the street. To his surprise, he only caught a few curious glances that swept past briefly; most passersby seemed not to notice his behavior at all.
The strictness of imperial upbringing and the complexity of its rituals were unimaginable. Zhao Wujiu had been a meticulous person since childhood, second only to the Crown Prince in being a model among the princes. A poorly written character could be rewritten ten or twenty times; a flaw in etiquette demanded practice a hundred times over.
What was utterly ordinary for Bai Shiqi was considered transgressive for him. Unless it was a matter of life and death on the battlefield, he would never abandon the manners drilled into him since his palace days. The moment he returned to the human world, that discarded shell of etiquette naturally cloaked him once more.
Shu Changfeng, standing five paces away, saw Prince Zhou sitting in his wheelchair eating a pastry on the street and felt an inexplicable pang of sorrow—when had his master ever been reduced to such a state?
Seeing Zhao Wujiu had taken a bite, Bai Shiqi shoved the pastry back into his hand. With one hand pushing the wheelchair forward and the other holding her own pastry, she casually bought little trinkets from street stalls. Having no free hand to carry them, she piled them all onto Zhao Wujiu's lap.
Zhao Wujiu thought: What a rude brat!
As he bit into the pastry, he had to inwardly admit it was delicious. In just a few bites, the entire thing was gone.
"Why are you buying these children's toys?" Zhao Wujiu asked, looking back towards the pastry stall... but they had already moved some distance away.
"They're gifts for a bunch of little kids," Bai Shiqi replied naturally, following his gaze and actually guessing his intent. "Don't eat too many pastries at once. If you get your fill now, you'll lose one of the joys next time we pass by here."
Zhao Wujiu wondered: What kind of novel theory is this?
