Beauty, Power and Intrigue Chapter 36

“Strange.” Song Chuyi chuckled softly, turned, and went back inside.

The bed was comfortable, and she slept soundly through the night.

The next day, barely after dawn, the Wei woman called from outside the door, “Master, it is time to rise.”

Song Chuyi was half-asleep and had no desire to pay any attention. Since completing her training, she had developed the habit of not getting up until she saw the sun. If it happened to be an overcast day, she could drowsily sleep for a day and two nights.

But the Wei woman was extremely patient. After a few breaths, she spoke again, “Master, it is time to rise.”

She called more than ten times without any sign of stopping. Hearing the wind howling outside, Song Chuyi half-opened her eyes, wrapped herself in the blanket, and walked to the door. As soon as the door opened, a violent wind carrying goose-feather-sized snowflakes struck her face without warning, and Song Chuyi instantly snapped awake.

The Wei woman was still wearing the outer robe Song Chuyi had given her back in Diqiu, shivering in the wind. Song Chuyi’s gaze passed over her and landed on a scholar in plain robes standing on the opposite corridor. He was lean but not soft of frame, with fiery red fox fur draped over his shoulders and neck. Because he stood in a wind-sheltered spot, his ink-black hair flowed silently down his back. Seen through the swirling snow, he was like a slim plum branch, with a noble and extraordinary bearing. It was the very person who had played the qin the night before.

Song Chuyi deeply felt that if he would put away the disdainful expression on his face, his bearing would be even finer.

“Come in,” Song Chuyi said, stepping aside to let the Wei woman enter. Only then did she toss the blanket aside, salute the person opposite her, and say in a clear voice, “I am Song Chuyi, courtesy name Huaijin. Might I ask who you are?”

The person gave her a faint glance, turned, and walked into the snow.

Song Chuyi turned back, baffled, and caught sight of the Wei woman’s washed face. Suddenly she understood why that person had made a friendly gesture yet regarded her with such contempt – it turned out he had been looking at a beauty all along. “Ha. Interesting.” Though she had been snubbed, Song Chuyi found this scholar quite a character.

Inside the room, the Wei woman seemed a little ill at ease. She was about the same age as Song Chuyi, yet what she sensed from Song Chuyi was not the air of a youth.

“There are several sets of women’s clothing in that bundle over there. Take them,” Song Chuyi said, wrapping herself in the blanket and crouching down by the small table. She tilted her chin slightly, gesturing for the Wei woman to fetch the bundle placed on the lacquered cabinet in the corner.

The Wei woman answered with a “yes” and shuffled over, hugging the bundle to her chest, then shuffled back. Seeing that Song Chuyi had no intention whatsoever of dressing, she could not help but ask in a low voice, “Would you like me to serve you while you change?”

Song Chuyi did not answer, but instead asked, “Do you have a name?”

The Wei woman lowered her head even further. “My name is Ya. My sister is called Zhao.”

This Wei woman was courteous in manner and seemed to possess a strong sense of shame; she was most likely from a noble clan. That she had such a fine name did not surprise Song Chuyi. “Good names. Do you have a surname?”

“Before my master, I dare not speak my surname,” Ya said with a bow.

“Speak freely. I saved you two sisters with no intention of making you slaves.” Song Chuyi leaned sidelong against the table, her posture somewhat indolent and her voice rather casual, yet the content of her words made Ya couldn’t help but slightly raise her head and shoot Song Chuyi a swift glance, as if to determine whether she was sincere or feigning it.

Very quickly, Ya replied, “My surname is Zi, of the Gongsun clan.”

Song Chuyi straightened up slightly. She had not expected that two women she had casually picked up would turn out to be daughters of a ducal house.

Ya’s surname was Zi, and her clan name was Gongsun. She could be called Zi Ya, or Gongsun Ya, or by her full name Gongsun Ziya if the surname and clan name were used together. If she also had a courtesy name, then there would be even more ways to address her.

Song Chuyi recalled that Zi Ya had said her father had been harmed by treacherous men, and their entire clan had been reduced to slavery, so her family had most likely already ceased to exist.

Song Chuyi could not help rubbing her hands together. Her previous life had been far too wretched, but in this life Heaven had treated her quite generously. With one move, she had picked up two daughters of a ducal house – women of first-rate upbringing and appearance, of noble status yet reduced to slavery. That was far better than having only beauty.

Those who possessed the Gongsun clan name indicated that they came from a ducal house. What was called a ducal house referred to the family of a feudal lord. This did not necessarily mean her family had ruled a state; it was also possible that the surname had simply continued in use – that some ancestor in her family had once been a feudal lord.

In the Spring and Autumn period, there were said to be eight hundred feudal lords, with small states standing in great numbers. Though by now most had been destroyed, there were still absolutely many people with Gongsun as their clan name.

As Song Chuyi thought through the states of the present age that could be counted by name, none had “Zi” as its state surname.

In this world, whether bloodlines were high or low, Song Chuyi did not know. But women born of a ducal house naturally received an education somewhat different from that of ordinary noblewomen, which gave them an innate air of nobility.

“How old are you?” Song Chuyi suppressed her thoughts and continued asking.

Zi Ya said, “I am fifteen this year. My sister is sixteen, almost seventeen.”

Song Chuyi nodded slightly. “Raise your head and look at me.”

Zi Ya hesitated for a moment, but still obeyed, lifting her head and looking directly at Song Chuyi. Although Zi Ya had always tried her utmost to be humble as a slave, she was, after all, not a true slave, and there was not the slightest trace of timidity in her gaze.

“Good,” Song Chuyi praised. Then, word by word and slowly, she said, “Your entire clan was murdered. Have you ever thought of taking revenge?”

“I have.” In Zi Ya’s mind, many images flashed in an instant – her father’s blood splattering three feet, her noble mother suffering violation. Hatred burst forth in that moment, but soon after, it sank again. Tears broke through like a collapsing dam, sliding down her smooth cheeks. She buried her face against her knees and wept bitterly. “But I have not the strength to truss a chicken. I see my enemies living freely, yet I cannot stain my blade with their blood.”

Song Chuyi stared at her frail, trembling shoulders and said, “You can. So long as you dare, what difficulty is there in ruining a person? Sometimes a beauty’s smile and tears are more terrifying than the edge of a blade. There was once Bao Si, whose single smile toppled a state. But when have you ever seen a warrior of valor defeat thousands of troops and ten thousand horses by his own strength alone?”

Of course, a mere pretty exterior alone could not accomplish much. Not every man was as muddled as King You of Zhou, so one had to scheme.

Hearing this, Zi Ya stopped crying and looked at Song Chuyi through her tears. “Master, teach me.”

Having said that, she prostrated herself before her.

“I will help you, of course. But I never help others for nothing. You must also help me,” Song Chuyi said frankly and directly.

“Even if my body is crushed to powder and my bones ground to dust, I will never renounce it.” The implication was that no matter what conditions Song Chuyi proposed, she would agree.

“Your sister…”

Song Chuyi had only spoken two words when Zi Ya hurriedly said, “Master, I will help you in whatever way she can, but my sister… my sister is frail and sickly, and of a gentle, yielding nature. She must not be burdened by hatred. I beg you to let her live out the rest of her days in peace.”

Song Chuyi had seen Zi Zhao before. Her appearance was delicate and endearing -even her sickly look inspired pity – but her figure, with its curves in all the right places, Song Chuyi could only describe with one phrase: breathtaking. Compared with her elder sister, Zi Ya was far inferior.

“You hold hatred in your heart, but how do you know she does not? If her knot of resentment can be untied, then so be it. Otherwise, to guard a peerless beauty in vain yet be unable to take revenge is also a kind of torment.” Song Chuyi gathered the blanket around herself and sighed. “With Zhao’s beauty, if she has no one to rely on, she will drift like rootless duckweed wherever she goes.”

This was the custom of the time – beauties without status or position were like goods.

“With my sister’s beauty, could you be moved?” Zi Ya’s gaze was burning.

Song Chuyi did not know whether to laugh or cry. So this child had long since thought it through, entrusting her sister to her. “I do not ask you to take my sister as a wife. Even as a concubine would be fine. I only beg you to protect my sister’s peace for a lifetime.” The one thing Zi Ya could never set her mind at ease about was her sister. Even though the person before her was now her master, she still had to seek a protector for her sister.

Song Chuyi raised a hand to her forehead and said helplessly, “Let me think.”

Zi Ya was courageous and also clever, but her thinking was still too naive. Even if Song Chuyi really were a man, if Zi Zhao became his concubine, how could she know that one day he would not offer Zi Zhao to some powerful noble? And even if Song Chuyi adored her beyond measure, if some powerful noble seized her by force, what then?

Zi Ya felt that Song Chuyi greatly favored Zi Zhao’s beauty, and was about to continue speaking, but saw her slightly raise a hand, signaling her to be silent.

Amid the wind and snow, hurried footsteps approached