From the fake emperor to the concubine

Before he could finish speaking, Zheng Yi turned around and glanced at him.

That glance wasn't harsh, but Chi Ya immediately shut up. He lowered his head, wishing he could slap himself.

Shen Yuan didn't react much. She remained silent for a few moments, then said something.

"She left with my father."

Chiya closed his mouth even tighter and didn't say another word the rest of the way.

In the evening, the three of them arrived at a small town.

The town was small; you could walk from one end of the main street to the other in the time it takes to drink a cup of tea. On both sides of the street were general stores, blacksmith shops, grain stores, pharmacies, and a tavern that also served as an inn. The tavern's sign hung at the entrance; the cloth had faded to grayish-white, but the words "Peaceful Inn" were still legible.

Zheng Yi dismounted at the entrance of the inn and handed the reins to the waiter who came out to greet him.

"Three rooms. Feed the horses well."

The man took the reins, glanced at Shen Yuan's face for a couple of seconds, and then quickly looked away.

The inn wasn't big, with only four or five rooms. Zheng Yi booked three rooms—Shen Yuan would stay in the innermost one, by the window, which would be quieter; Chi Ya would stay in the middle one; and he himself would stay in the one by the stairs.

Shen Yuan entered the room but didn't lie down immediately. She opened the window and looked outside—behind the window was a small courtyard with a pomegranate tree. Several unpicked pomegranates still hung on the tree, their skins dried and cracked, revealing dark red seeds inside. In the corner of the courtyard was a water vat with a few aquatic plants inside, and a fallen leaf floating on the water.

She closed the window, sat on the edge of the bed, took out the medicine powder given to her by the old woman from the cloth bag, and also took out a small pot of yellow wine—this was bought by Zheng Yi on the road, specifically for her to change her dressings.

She unbuttoned her clothes and looked down at the wound on her ribs. The purplish-blue bruise had mostly faded, turning a pale yellow, but it still hurt when pressed. She poured the medicinal powder into a small bowl, added a little rice wine, stirred it into a paste with chopsticks, and then applied it to the wound. The ointment felt cool to the touch and had a distinctively bitter herbal smell.

She secured the ointment with a strip of cloth, put her clothes back on, and let out a long sigh of relief.

Someone was knocking on the door.

"Miss Shen, come down for dinner." It was Chi Ya's voice, cheerful as a sparrow. "Young Master Zheng said we'd like mutton noodles today. The manager said the mutton was just slaughtered this morning, it's very fresh!"

Shen Yuan responded and pushed open the door to come out.

Chiya stood in the corridor, his face showing the excitement of a child.

"Can you smell it? It smells so good!"

Shen Yuan took a deep breath. It really smelled good. The muttony smell was masked by the spices, leaving only a rich, mellow meaty aroma that wafted up from the lobby downstairs, climbed the stairs, and filled the entire corridor.

The two went downstairs. Zheng Yi was already sitting in the lobby, with three bowls of noodles in front of him, stirring the scallions in the bowls with his chopsticks. When he saw Shen Yuan come down, he pushed the bowl with less scallions in front of her.

"Is it spicy?" Shen Yuan glanced at the bright red soup in the bowl.

"Not spicy. Lamb noodles in the north don't have chili."

Shen Yuan picked up her chopsticks and put a few strands of noodles into her mouth. The noodles were hand-rolled, neither too thick nor too thin, and chewy; the soup was made with mutton, rich but not greasy, and perfectly seasoned; the mutton was cut into thick slices and stewed until tender, melting in her mouth with a touch of her tongue.

She took her first bite, paused for a moment, and then began to eat one bite after another.

Chi Ya was slurping his food loudly beside him, taking a couple of bites of noodles and a sip of soup, and then licking the bowl clean after finishing. Zheng Yi glanced at him before he put the bowl down.

Shen Yuan finished most of the bowl of noodles, put down her chopsticks, and stared blankly at the remaining soup in the bowl.

"What's wrong?" Zheng Yi asked.

"It's nothing. It's just that... I haven't had such a hot meal in a long time."

Chi Ya chimed in from the side, "Miss Shen, the food you used to eat in the south was much better than this, wasn't it?"

Shen Yuan thought for a moment and then shook her head.

"Not necessarily. My dad used to say that good food isn't about price, it's about being hungry. When you're hungry, everything tastes good; when you're not hungry, nothing tastes good." She looked down at the bowl in front of her. "I'm probably quite hungry right now."

Chiya didn't understand, but he felt that what he said made a lot of sense.

After finishing his meal, Chi Ya insisted on washing the dishes. He carried three bowls to the backyard, borrowed hot water from the shopkeeper, and squatted down next to the water vat to wash them one by one, doing so quite diligently.

Shen Yuan sat in the lobby, holding a cup of hot tea, watching the darkening sky outside the door.

"Young Master Zheng."

"Ah."

How long does it take to get from here to Jiangnan?

"It depends on the weather. It could take as little as twenty days, or as long as a month."

Shen Yuan nodded and spun the teacup around twice.

Have you decided where to go first when you get to Jiangnan?

"Let's go to your house first."

Shen Yuan stopped.

“My home is in Huzhou. There’s a river south of the city, and along the river there’s an old cluster of houses with two osmanthus trees planted in front of them. That’s my home.” She paused, “but I don’t know what’s left there now.”

"You'll know once you go and see for yourself," Zheng Yi said.

Shen Yuan raised her head and looked at Zheng Yi.

Do you really think I would leave anything in my house?

“Your father has been in business for over twenty years, rising from a tea egg seller to one of the largest tea merchants in Jiangnan. A man like that wouldn’t leave nothing behind.” Zheng Yi leaned back in his chair, looking at the lantern by the door swaying in the wind. “He may not have had time to tell you, but he definitely left something behind.”

Shen Yuan remained silent for a long time.

“Sometimes I dream that my father is still alive. He is sitting in his study doing accounts, and I am grinding ink for him. He says, ‘Yuan’er, the ink you ground is too thick, the characters I write won’t blend.’ I say, ‘Father, it’s because you dipped your brush in too much ink.’ He says, ‘You little girl, you always talk back to me.’”

As she spoke, her voice gradually faded.

"I woke up later and realized it was a dream. The study light was off, the ink had dried, and the person was gone."

The lobby was quiet. The sound of the shopkeeper's abacus behind the counter had also stopped. It was completely dark outside, except for the lantern by the door, which swayed gently in the wind, casting its orange light on the ground in alternating flashes.

Zheng Yi didn't say anything to comfort him.

He refilled his teacup and poured Shen Yuan a cup of hot water.

"We have to travel tomorrow. Get some rest."

Shen Yuan nodded, picked up the cup of hot water, and slowly went upstairs.

When Chiya returned from the backyard, his hands were still dripping wet, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and he was soaking wet, like an otter that had just climbed out of the river.

“Young Master Zheng, I washed all the dishes and filled the water tank in the kitchen. The shopkeeper said I’m a good young man.”

Zheng Yi glanced at him.

"Go to bed early, we'll leave first thing tomorrow morning."

Chi Ya responded and ran upstairs. Halfway up, he turned back, poked his head out, and asked, "Young Master Zheng, what are we having for breakfast tomorrow?"

"We'll talk about it on the way."

Chiya said "Oh" and ran up again.

Zheng Yi sat alone in the lobby, finishing the last cup of tea. The tea had gone cold and tasted a bit bitter, but with a strong aftertaste. He put down the teacup, stood up, and walked to the door.

The street outside was deserted. All the shops on either side were closed, except for one pharmacy in the distance, its lights still on, a dim yellow glow seeping through the crack in the door. There were stars in the sky, not many, but very bright, as if each one had been carefully wiped clean before being hung up.

He stood there for a while, blew out the lantern at the door, closed the door, and went upstairs.

The corridor was quiet. Shen Yuan's room was dark, as was Chi Ya's. Only in his own room was the oil lamp on the table still lit—he had deliberately left it on before leaving.

He pushed open the door, sat down on the edge of the bed, took off his boots, and lay down on his back.

The bed was a bit hard, the bedding had a faint smell of soap, and an occasional bark came from outside the window. He thought of many things.

He remembered his first time in the North, the wind cutting his face like knives. He remembered Uncle Mu handing him his first bowl of hot wine, the spiciness bringing tears to his eyes. He remembered the look in Bone Granny's eyes when she first saw him, as if she were looking at something unreliable.

I remember Shen Yuan lying in the grass, covered in blood, on the mountain outside the East Gate.

I recalled the dried bloodstains on Agu and China's hands.

I recall the dark red blood flowing from the corner of the mouth of the person who swallowed the poison.

I remember the smile on Shen Yuan's face when she said, "She didn't even spare the dogs."

He rolled over and faced the wall.

The wall was made of adobe and coated with a layer of whitewash. There was a thin crack in the whitewash that ran from the top of the wall to the bottom, like a dried-up river on the earth.

Zheng Yi looked at the crack and slowly closed his eyes.

The next morning, just as dawn broke, the three of them went out.

Chi Ya's eyes weren't fully open yet, but he was already chewing on a hot sesame seed cake—the shopkeeper had specially gotten up early to bake it for them, saying they should take it with them on the road. Shen Yuan also took one, wrapped it in oil paper, and stuffed it into her cloth bag. Zheng Yi didn't take one; he gave his share to Chi Ya, who ate it in two bites and even licked his fingers afterward.

Once outside the town, the official road made a turn and began heading south.

The scenery on both sides of the road changed again. Farmland was gradually replaced by hills, and patches of forest appeared in the distance. The leaves had not yet all fallen, and they were red and yellow, as if someone had used a brush to paint layer after layer of color on the ground.

Chiya had never seen such a sight before. Autumn in the North was usually yellow, gray, or white, but never so many colors mixed together. He stared in disbelief, abandoning his horse to slouch on its back, practically wanting to press his face against the leaves.

"Young Master Zheng! What kind of tree is that? Why are its leaves red?"

"maple."

"What about that one? The yellow one?"

"ginkgo."

"What about that one? The short one, with leaves like the size of a palm?"

"...That's castor bean."

Chiya said "Oh," and then asked, "What is castor bean?"

Zheng Yi did not answer.

Shen Yuan smiled slightly from behind.

"Castor bean is a type of grass whose seeds can be pressed for oil."

Chiya suddenly realized and asked, "Can you drink oil?"

"No. It will burn if you light it."

Chiya thought about it and found it quite amazing.

After traveling all morning, the sun slowly climbed overhead from the east, its warmth comforting the body. Shen Yuan took off her thick fur robe and draped it over her horse's back, wearing only a quilted blue cotton-padded jacket. The jacket had been altered by Boss Sun's wife; it was originally an old garment belonging to a woman from the Huozong tribe. After some alterations to the waist, it fit Shen Yuan quite well.

Chi Ya looked at Shen Yuan's blue cloth coat, then looked down at his own drab gray sheepskin coat, and suddenly felt dissatisfied.

"Miss Shen, the color of your coat is beautiful."

Shen Yuan looked down at her own coat, then at Chi Ya's sheepskin coat.

"You like blue?"

"I like it. It doesn't look like it's from the north."

Without turning his head, Zheng Yi said from the front, "You originally came from the north."

Chiya opened his mouth, thinking that what he said made sense, but he still thought the blue one looked better.

We stopped for a rest at a tea stall at the entrance of a village at noon.

The tea stall was very simple: a broken table, two long benches, and an iron kettle boiling water. The stall was run by an old man in his sixties or seventies, his face full of wrinkles, and when he smiled, he only had three or four teeth left. He put a handful of broken tea leaves in a bowl, poured in boiling water, and the tea leaves tumbled a few times before slowly sinking to the bottom. The tea soup was very light in color, as pale as water.

"Are you gentlemen from the north?" the old man asked with a smile as he brought over his teacup.

Zheng Yi nodded.

The old man glanced at Shen Yuan, then at Chi Ya.

"Is this heading south?"

"Go to Jiangnan."

The old man said "Oh," without asking any further questions, and turned to sit back down behind the tea stall. After a while, he stood up again, brought over a plate of peanuts, and placed it on the table.

"It's a gift. It's free."

Chi Ya grabbed a handful of peanuts and threw them into his mouth, chewing them with a crunching sound.

"Grandpa, how long have you been setting up your stall here?"

The old man thought for a moment and held up four fingers.

"Forty years?"

The old man shook his head.

Four years?

He still shook his head.

"Four months?"

The old man smiled, revealing his three or four teeth.

"Forty years."

Chiya almost choked on a peanut.

"Didn't you just extend four—"

"Four fingers represent forty years." The old man squinted. "I don't have enough fingers, so forty and four are the same gesture."

Looking at the old man's calloused hands, Chi Ya thought about it and realized that it didn't seem wrong.

Shen Yuan sipped her watery tea, gazing at the old locust tree behind the tea stall. The tree was bare, its branches reaching towards the sky like an open hand. Beneath the tree was a brood of chicks; the mother hen and five or six fluffy chicks were huddled together, chirping and twittering.

She looked at the chicks and suddenly said something.

"I raised chickens when I was a child."

Red Fang became interested: "Really?"

"Really. I have three. One is named Little Flower, one is named Little Yellow, and one is named..."

She paused for a moment.

"What was the name of the other one again?"

She thought for a moment, but couldn't remember.

Chiya didn't notice her brief pause, as he was busy pouring the last few peanuts into his hand.

After resting for half an hour, the three continued their journey.

The further south you go on the road, the less it resembles the road in the north. (End of Chapter)