After downing a bowl of thin rice porridge, Zhang Xialian woke up in the middle of the night. Outside the window, it was pitch black, and she couldn't see a thing.
Her body felt clean yet slightly sticky, as if something had been smeared on it.
Had she reached the underworld?
Even in death, her body didn't ache as much as it used to.
Her hand groped to the side, and the sensation of warmth made every muscle in Zhang Xialian's body tense up.
Instinctively, she kicked out.
"Ah!" In her sleep, Chunxing first felt a sharp pain in her thigh, followed by a strong sense of weightlessness, then her chest and arms throbbed from the impact.
Hearing a woman's voice, Zhang Xialian looked down at the floor beside the bed in surprise. "Who are you?"
There was no moon tonight, and the room was so dark it was impossible to see anything.
Chunxing climbed up from the floor, fumbled to find the fire striker on the table, and lit the candle.
"You're finally awake."
Seeing the woman's face clearly, Zhang Xialian looked utterly bewildered. She glanced around at the unfamiliar surroundings, which didn't look like the place where human traffickers locked up their slaves.
"Who are you? Where is this?"
Chunxing stared at the wounds on her neck, recalling the scars she had seen while changing Zhang Xialian's clothes. There wasn't a single patch of good skin on her body; it was as if she had been beaten to death.
"My name is Chunxing. While you were unconscious, the trafficker sold you to the young mistress. We're in the master's house now."
Zhang Xialian lifted her collar and sniffed; it was the scent of medicine.
"My injuries...?"
Chunxing: "The master applied the medicine for you. She seemed to know you."
Hearing that the person who bought her knew her, Zhang Xialian's expression changed.
She hugged her knees and shrank into the corner. "What's the name of the person who bought me? Who is she?"
Seeing her so frightened, Chunxing quickly tried to reassure her. "Don't be afraid. The young mistress is very kind. Besides you, she also bought a cripple who was nearly dead."
"Having only been here half a day, I only know the master's family name is Song. The young mistress in charge seems to be only in her teens. There are also two young masters and a young lady in the household, all quite young. It's a simple family, should be easy to serve."
Hearing that her buyer's surname was Song and that she was a teenage girl, a flicker of uncertainty appeared in Zhang Xialian's eyes. She ventured tentatively, "Is her name Song Jinzhao?"
Chunxing shook her head. "I'm not too sure about that. Having only been here half a day, we haven't spoken much. She only said she'd assign work tomorrow."
"But she said you had killed someone, and it was she who handed you the knife. It scared the trafficker out of his wits, and he sold you to the master for nothing, as a throw-in."
Zhang Xialian's head thudded heavily against the wall. Her pupils contracted sharply, and she seemed dazed for a moment.
Scenes from the bandit den at Half-Moon Cliff replayed in her mind one by one, especially the image of Song Jinzhao handing her the knife, which remained vivid to this day.
Seeing her state, Chunxing waved a hand in front of her face. "Go to sleep, it's very late."
Zhang Xialian leaned against the wall, her eyes open all night. Chunxing woke up several times and was startled each time.
After daybreak, Chunxing got up briskly, dressed, and washed up.
Seeing her get up, Zhang Xialian immediately tried to rise as well.
Chunxing said, "Your injuries aren't healed yet, I can manage."
Zhang Xialian shook her head, enduring the pain all over her body, and together they fetched water. Both stood outside Song Jinzhao's room holding wooden basins.
She desperately wanted to confirm whether the person who bought her was indeed her savior, that peerlessly skilled heroine.
On the other side, the early-rising Fushun was already cleaning the stables.
Even though the masters hadn't assigned tasks yet, as servants, they needed to have initiative. Otherwise, they'd be seen as lazy and might be sold off again.
Song Anhao was the first to wake, opening his eyes and crying out that he was hungry and wanted food.
Song Shixue opened the door to see the two newly bought servants standing outside holding basins.
Unaccustomed to having servants, she seemed a bit awkward. She stepped aside and said, "Put the basins on the stand."
Zhang Xialian stared at Song Jinzhao, who was sitting in front of the bronze mirror combing her hair, as if rooted to the spot, the wooden basin still held in her hands, not put down.
Chunxing nudged her with a hand, her eyes signaling, What are you doing?
Zhang Xialian snapped back to reality and hurriedly put the basin down. It was indeed her.
Song Jinzhao stood up, a slight curve at the corner of her mouth as she met Zhang Xialian's gaze. "Awake?"
Zhang Xialian was stunned for a long moment, then suddenly knelt, kowtowing. "Thank you, young mistress, for saving my life twice."
Song Jinzhao picked up the towel drying on the wooden rack and dipped it in the water. "That day on the mountain, you were quite decisive and ruthless."
"What happened? Couldn't bring yourself to do it when facing the in-laws who beat and sold you?"
Zhang Xialian lowered her head, her gaze fixed absently on the ground.
"My husband died saving me. I also have a twelve-year-old son. When the bandits captured me and took me up the mountain, he protected me and was pushed down the slope, hitting his head and injuring his mind. I couldn't fight back."
The tip of Song Jinzhao's eyebrow twitched slightly. "Weren't you afraid they would treat your son poorly?"
A trace of self-mockery tinged Zhang Xialian's curved lips. "He's the only male heir for three generations, their only grandson to carry on the family line."
Song Jinzhao asked, "Do you still want to go back?"
Zhang Xialian shook her head without hesitation. "Everyone in the village knows I was defiled. They all curse and blame me, thinking I should have killed myself immediately for losing my purity. I don't want to go back. That place has no room for me anymore."
When the bandits violated her, she wished she could die immediately. After the failed assassination attempt, she had also thought her worthless life might as well end.
Until Song Jinzhao appeared.
The young girl's valor was like a deity descending to save her from endless darkness, the very image she had desperately longed for in her desire for revenge.
After Song Jinzhao subdued Duan Shanlang, she let her wield the blade against her enemy.
The scene of madness, everything she saw stained with blood, Zhang Xialian remembered it all clearly even now. After waking, she felt killing someone was nothing more than that.
The knot in her heart had been dug out and crushed by her own hands. She no longer wanted to die, even dreaming that one day she could become someone like Song Jinzhao.
Afraid of nothing, with no one daring to bully her, and those who did would have to die.
Song Jinzhao's voice softened. "Can you bear to leave your son?"
Zhang Xialian's eyes grew slightly moist. "My disappearance is what's best for him."
"In that case, stay. From now on, obey my commands, take me as your master. All that belongs to the past has nothing more to do with you. I give you the name Qingshuang. Throw away the old Zhang Xialian completely."
Under Song Jinzhao's intensely oppressive gaze, she felt like a trapped beast locked in a cage in her eyes.
And Zhang Xialian willingly submitted.
Her forehead knocked heavily against the ground. She raised her right hand and swore, her eyes like tempered mountain fire from a fierce purgatory, blazing and resolute.
"Thank you, young mistress, for bestowing the name. Qingshuang vows to serve you unto death, willing to be your ox or horse, and will never betray you."
In the main hall, Song Qiming was sitting on a stool eating breakfast, his eyes occasionally darting towards Chunxing and Fushun.
He had once promised that after he became an official, he would hire servants to take care of his elder sister and younger siblings. Now, before he had even passed the provincial exams, his elder sister had already bought servants.
She was always running ahead, forever out of reach.
Song Jinzhao had hired workers to break through the courtyard wall behind the two shops, digging out a small, deep underground cellar for storing ice.
In the woodshed, Song Shixue pursed her lips, her brow furrowed in concentration. Her movements were extremely careful as she meticulously scraped away every bit of rotten flesh.
"I thought of several names last night. Which do you prefer, Lanxi or Yuebai?"
The youth lowered his gaze, his eyes resting on Song Shixue's fair fingers as she held the medicine bowl.
"Lanxi is quite nice."
Song Shixue curled the corner of her mouth. "I think it's a good name too. It suits your blue eyes particularly well."
The hand Lanxi had clenched on the bed board tightened instantly, his eyelids trembling slightly as if trying to hide his pale blue irises.
After scraping away the rotten flesh, Song Shixue stared at the wound that resembled a blade cut. Recalling the scene she had witnessed outside the city wall that day, she couldn't help but ask, "Were the knife wounds on your body also inflicted by those beggars?"
Lanxi's throat bobbed as he shook his head in reply. "No. I was cut by bandits I encountered while fleeing."
Song Shixue applied the ointment to the wound and covered it with gauze.
"Your wounds weren't treated and bandaged in time. Once the new flesh grows, the scars will definitely not fade."
Lanxi's expression remained calm. "It's fine if they don't fade. Thank you for your trouble, Second Miss."
A spark of excitement unique to someone practicing medicine alone flickered in Song Shixue's eyes. "You are my first patient. I will definitely cure you, though it might take a bit longer."
"If it were my elder sister, it would be much faster. But she's extremely busy, with many tasks to do every day. I need to heal you quickly so you can help her with the work."
