Song Chuyi had thought that her laughter would attract the guards’ attention, but unexpectedly, not a single person came to ask what was going on.
“You’re nothing but a lowly slave. You could laugh yourself to death, and no one would care,” Zhang Yi retorted with a scornful sneer.
Song Chuyi curled up beneath the quilt and lay down, completely unfazed by his words. Instead, she said lazily, “I think I can see one or two reasons why you’ve ended up in this state. You have no sense of how to read the situation, no ability to fight back whatsoever, and yet you still try to provoke me. What good does that do you?”
Zhang Yi was taken aback for a moment, then lowered his eyes and fell into thought. Among the more than one hundred retainers of the Chancellor of Chu, he dared say that his talents were inferior to none. He had ambitions, yet had spent years drifting from place to place without ever finding success. Could it be that he had failed because of such seemingly trivial matters?
Song Chuyi closed her eyes, but her heart was far less calm than she appeared. In her previous life, she had never met Zhang Yi, yet the name had been as familiar to her as thunder. When she first heard the name “Zhang Yi” from the future Chancellor of Qin, Song Chuyi had assumed it was merely a case of two people sharing the same name. Only after hearing him recount his experiences did she become certain of his identity.
Whatever the case, there was nothing to lose and everything to gain from befriending Zhang Yi.
Ever since waking up, Song Chuyi had been sleeping rough and eating whatever she could find. Even though the carriage jolted and swayed beneath her, she soon drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the warm cotton quilt.
This was the first time in Zhao Yilou’s life that he had ever touched bedding of such fine quality, or lain on a rush mat woven with such exquisite care. Lying there, he was so excited that he remained awake for a long time.
Song Chuyi had no idea how long she slept. When she woke, the sky was still dim and hazy.
She shifted her arm slightly. Her hand brushed against something soft and warm.
She froze for a moment, then reached out and touched it again and again. For an instant, her mind went completely blank…
What… was this…?
“Zhao Xiaochong.” Song Chuyi called out coldly.
Zhao Yilou answered sleepily and shifted a little closer to her.
“Zhao Xiaochong!” Song Chuyi suddenly roared, yanking off his quilt. Sure enough, Zhao Yilou was completely naked, without a stitch of clothing on. And the place Song Chuyi had just touched was unmistakably between his legs.
Zhang Yi, who had been stuffing food into his mouth beside them, choked in fright. He turned his head for a look, and the mouthful of food immediately lodged in his throat. He could neither swallow it nor spit it out, and his face turned bright red as he struggled to breathe.
The quilt was ripped away from him, and Zhao Yilou shivered from the cold, abruptly waking up. He saw Zhang Yi’s face flushed crimson, while Song Chuyi’s face was obscured by her hair, making her expression impossible to discern. Yet he could feel her gaze wandering over his body.
The scene was simply too bizarre. A man had seen his naked body and was so embarrassed that his face had turned red, while a woman had seen his naked body and seemed to be enjoying the view.
Zhao Yilou hurriedly snatched up the quilt and covered himself.
“Why aren’t you wearing any clothes?” Song Chuyi asked.
Zhao Yilou wrapped himself up like a silkworm in its cocoon and lowered his head. “The bedding is so clean. I was afraid I would dirty it.”
“Ghk!” Zhang Yi finally forced out a breath and managed to swallow the food. After catching his breath, he said, “He’s sleeping in his own bedding. What concern is it of yours? I saw everything clearly. You were the one who crawled into that gentleman’s quilt.”
Song Chuyi sighed. “Ah. Thank you for pointing that out. Actually, I wasn’t blaming him. I just thought that having him sleep beside me like this was a little unsafe.”
Zhang Yi looked at Zhao Yilou, then at Song Chuyi, and asked in confusion, “How is that unsafe?”
“I’m worried that I’m too prone to acting on impulse. He’d inevitably lose his chastity,” Song Chuyi replied calmly.
Zhang Yi froze for a moment, then gave two dry laughs. “I never would have guessed that Brother Yiyue would have such a… distinctive preference at such a young age. Truly… truly quite something.”
Zhao Yilou stared at them, dumbfounded, and for a moment even wondered whether he was hallucinating.
Perhaps the guards outside the carriage had heard that Song Chuyi and the others were awake, because before long, a beautiful maid brought in a food box.
“My name is Mei. From now on, I will be responsible for attending to Young Master’s daily needs.” The beauty was only moderately attractive, but she was petite and delicately built, with a slender waist that could easily be encircled with one hand. The slight droop of her brows gave her an appearance that seemed naturally suited to inspiring a man’s protective affection.
“Young Master” was a term of great respect. An ordinary man would generally not be accorded such a form of address.
Song Chuyi felt that the woman seemed to attach rather too much importance to Zhao Yilou. She shifted to the side and had Mei come over to attend to him instead. Did they think she was unfit to appear in public, and deliberately replace her with another slave girl?
Song Chuyi secretly grew wary. If they were doing this, it meant they considered her useless. And when it came to disposing of a useless female slave, there was little to choose from: she could be sold, or put to work like an animal, forced to perform hard labor.
Mei lifted the lid of the food box, and an enticing fragrance immediately filled the air.
Song Chuyi’s attention was drawn to the food. She took a look and saw a piece of roasted venison, glistening with fat. It was crisp and browned on the outside yet tender within, the fat still giving off a faint sizzling sound. It had been cooked to perfection. Beside it, white rice steamed in a black lacquer bowl picked out in gold, whetting the appetite.
Once the first layer was removed, there was a small earthenware jar underneath. Beside it sat a plate of curled-ear greens tossed with white sesame seeds. Beneath the next layer was an exquisite bronze dish holding two sweet crabapples.
Mei’s slender hands lifted the lid of the earthenware jar. In a soft voice, she said, “Young Master, have this soup. Qiao said that you are in poor health and need nourishing.”
As she spoke, she bent forward and raised the chopsticks high above her head with both hands, positioning them precisely where Zhao Yilou could easily take them by simply lifting his hand.
Zhao Yilou stared at the food before him, practically itching to grab it with his hands. But the beautiful maid was so gracious and courteous that he felt embarrassed to behave too casually. He reached for the chopsticks and swallowed hard. Such lavish treatment made him rather uneasy.
“Who is Qiao?”
“She is in charge of our caravan,” the beauty replied. Then she bent even lower. “Young Master, please eat.”
Song Chuyi sighed inwardly. Being good-looking really did have its advantages.
She glanced over at Zhang Yi’s plate. He had only a piece of ordinary pork and some coarse bean rice.
Before long, a guard lifted the carriage curtain and tossed an earthenware bowl down in front of Song Chuyi.
Inside was nothing but cold bean rice, though there was certainly plenty of it.
From the corner of her eye, Song Chuyi caught sight of Zhang Yi grinning gleefully. She couldn’t help cursing him inwardly. The pot calling the kettle black. What was there to gloat about?
“Could I give half of this meat to her?” Zhao Yilou asked, pointing at Song Chuyi.
Song Chuyi’s eyes immediately filled with tears.
Good lad. You really are loyal and kind-hearted.
“You may distribute the food however you wish,” the maid replied respectfully.
Zhao Yilou immediately reached out to grab the meat, but the maid stopped him with a hand.
“Please forgive this servant’s boldness. Allow me to handle such coarse work.”
With that, she drew a small, delicate dagger from within her wide sleeve. She gently sliced off a piece of steaming, glistening venison and placed it into Song Chuyi’s earthenware bowl. Then, with swift and practiced movements, she cut the rest of the venison into bite-sized pieces and placed several of them onto a black lacquer plate decorated with gold.
Zhao Yilou knew nothing about all those tedious rules of etiquette. As far as he was concerned, with such delicious food right in front of him, the only thing that mattered was getting it into his stomach. So he simply reached out and grabbed it with his hands.
The beautiful maid looked utterly astonished. She froze for only a moment, but that was already too long; before she could stop him, he had stuffed all the meat from the plate into his mouth. Looking at his face, still mottled with blue and purple bruises beneath his half-concealed black hair, the maid could not help but think that even in such a state, one could still glimpse a trace of his beauty. Once he was properly dressed in his robes and cap, he would surely be an exceptionally handsome man.
The maid sighed inwardly and no longer tried to stop him. She thought that, after all, he probably did not have many days left in which he could indulge himself so freely.
Song Chuyi and Zhao Yilou ate with astonishing speed, devouring the food as though swept along by a gust of wind. Zhang Yi lowered his head and looked at his own meal. Somehow, watching the two of them eat had stirred up his appetite as well, and he began eating in great mouthfuls.
When Zhao Yilou had finished the very last grain of rice, the maid said, “Young Master, please come with me.”
Zhao Yilou had heard that condemned warriors were always given a hearty final meal before being sent off on missions from which they were unlikely to return alive. He immediately shrank back.
“I’m not going.”
