Female Disguised as a Man: A Warring States Hostage Slave Cannot Escape Chapter 3

She could no longer remember how many days she had traveled through snow and rain. The warmth of this room was simply impossible to resist.

She had intended only to rest for an hour or two. Instead, she had drifted into a beautiful dream of returning home.

When she awoke, the first thing she saw was a sharply handsome face.

The faint fragrance of plum blossoms lingered in the air. Her apricot eyes remained unfocused. For a fleeting moment, she was still wandering through the peach groves covering the northern slopes of Mang Mountain outside Luoyi in the month of May.

Eh… Whose young master is this? He’s so handsome. His eyes are filled with stars. Even three parts more handsome than Older Brother Ruhui…

The very next instant, the man before her curled his thin lips into a faint smile. His eyes brimmed with unmistakable mockery and malice.

“Your Lordship sleeps well.”

The beautiful dream of Luoyi shattered instantly. Zhao Shu’s heart tightened violently. She was dragged back into reality all at once.

Her sleeping posture had been terribly awkward. She tried to stand and move farther away but the moment she pushed herself up using the table…

She rose too quickly. Her entire body felt weak. Both legs had gone numb. As soon as she moved, the wooden chair beneath her rocked violently.

Her balance gave way. She was about to fall to the floor together with the chair.

Taking in her startled and dazed state, Ying Wuji didn’t hesitate; he took a small step and reached out to put his arm around her back. 

A broad chest pressed down on her, and a pleasant woody scent wafted over her. Zhao Shu suddenly felt as if the black robes were about to devour her, and instinctively tried to block them. 

Perhaps it was because she had some rudimentary martial arts skills, or perhaps the man was never on guard against her, but with just a slight tilt of her waist, Zhao Shu actually managed to avoid it.

However, having lost her support, she stumbled and fell sideways to the ground, her back unfortunately slamming heavily onto the head of the lion-like creature protruding from the base of the table leg. 

A sharp, aching pain shot through her, and she could only hiss out before biting her lip to endure it. 

All of this naturally fell into Ying Wuji’s eyes. 

He had once defeated the number one swordsman of the Qin Dynasty, and his physical reaction speed was far more agile than that of ordinary people. In fact, he could have caught the person just now. 

However, he did not do that. 

The youth on the ground drooped their head and tilted their body, revealing a section of their fair and supple neck, which seemed to be breakable, killing him with just a gentle twist. 

The youth remained motionless and silent, only slightly lifting themself up. 

Time seemed to stand still as she watched the man’s gaze, so intense it felt almost tangible, and a sense of despair and fear crept into her heart.

Ying Wuji watched as she instinctively shrank farther back against the desk. An oddly unreal sense of satisfaction welled up inside him. Looking at the back that was even thinner than it had been three years ago, it felt as though soft feathers were brushing against his heart, stirring emotions he himself could not quite name.

The world was vast, yet a lifetime was finite. He merely wished to indulge himself once, to use the person before him as a reminder of the uncertainty and impermanence of this age of endless conflict.

He strolled calmly to the low couch at one side and sat down. The ruthlessness in his eyes faded as he spoke in a gentle voice.

“It was I who saved you at the East Gate last night.”

As expected, the person kneeling on the floor visibly trembled, her face filled with the shock and disbelief he had anticipated.

“The one who sent the medicine… was also me.”

Smiling as warmly as a spring breeze, like a kind and benevolent old friend, he watched as Zhao Shu’s almond-shaped eyes widened in astonishment.

She was so stunned that she could only stare at him in disbelief. Gradually, a mist of tears gathered in her eyes.

What had begun as a leisurely game of cat and mouse was thrown into disarray by the moisture in those eyes. Ying Wuji froze for a brief moment. Suddenly, he remembered the words the Zhao people had once used to mock him, “favored courtier.” The warmth instantly vanished from his face.

“Y-You… how could it… how could it have been you?”

Hearing her dazed murmur, a flash of savagery crossed his face. Yet he smiled again and asked solemnly, “If not me, then whom did Your Lordship think it would be?”

The title was anything but friendly, and the atmosphere froze once more.

“Now I am merely a hostage. I am unworthy of such kindness from the Young Lord.” The numbness in Zhao Shu’s legs had finally subsided. Her thoughts raced. Feeling that cowering against the desk was hardly dignified, she steadied herself against it and stood. “You… why aren’t you holding me accountable?”

People always found it easy to forget the wrongs they themselves had committed. Zhao Shu was straightforward and sincere by nature. Though still frightened, she truly believed he had no reason to pursue the matter.

“Cheng Wu said two rounds of soup and dishes were served. Why didn’t Crown Prince Zhao touch a single bite?”

Instead of answering, Ying Wuji countered with a question. He clapped his hands, and several attendants filed in carrying freshly prepared hot dishes.

There was even a flask of clear wine.

The underfloor heating made the room increasingly warm. He removed his black outer robe embroidered with golden patterns and strode toward the table. Around his waist was a jade belt adorned with openwork taotie designs in gold. His fitted robe accentuated his lean waist and long, powerful frame.

The purple jade seal hanging at his waist made it obvious that he had only just returned from attending to state affairs.

Casually lifting the wine flask, he took a long drink before letting out a satisfied sigh.

The entire sequence of movements was almost identical to Zhao Ruhui’s.

Bitterness filled Zhao Shu’s mouth. Now that they stood close together, the difference in their physiques became all the more apparent.

Three years earlier, she had picked him out from among the refugees at a single glance. Ying Wuji had been sixteen then, stunningly handsome, with features that carried a stronger northern tribal influence. He had been only half a head taller than Zhao Shu.

Now, at nineteen, the bloodshed and killing intent that clung to him had overshadowed the delicate beauty of his features. His body had grown tall and sturdy like a pine tree. Zhao Shu, on the other hand, had already reached her full height three years ago. The hardships of life as a hostage had left her noticeably thinner. Standing side by side now, she barely reached his shoulder.

A warm jade cup was gently pushed into her hands.

No matter how naive she was, she would not mistake such “kindness” for genuine goodwill.

Yet after some thought, she realized that for someone who had climbed to his current position, to save an old enemy at all already spoke volumes. As the saying went, “Great people do not concern themselves with trifles.” Since he had spared her life, surely he would not stoop to tormenting her little by little.

Zhao Shu guessed that he merely wished to warn and chastise her, to use her as a means of mourning the hardships of his past.

After all, for a royal heir like herself to fall to such a miserable state was almost unheard of among the feudal states of the Zhou Dynasty over the past several hundred years.

Perhaps she should simply go along with his intentions, lay aside her pride, say a few flattering words, and offer him a sincere apology…

“Why aren’t you drinking?” His deep voice interrupted her thoughts. Before she could stammer out a reply, their eyes met briefly before she quickly looked away. His emerald eyes were unfathomable as he gazed at the bronze dove-shaped lamp standing on the floor. “It is rather late, so you shouldn’t eat too much. The fish soup is especially tender. Crown Prince Zhao should give it a try.”

Zhao Shu picked up the jade bowl of fish soup. The flesh was plump, white, and glistening, the finest meat dish she had seen since the war at Pingcheng began.

She quietly set the bowl back down. Then she clasped her hands in a humble salute. “I am but a hostage slave. I dare not accept the Imperial Grandson’s gifts.”

“Afraid I’ve poisoned it?” His tone shifted abruptly. Ying Wuji’s smile disappeared, replaced by growing mockery in his eyes.

Seeing the confusion on Zhao Shu’s face, he set down his wine cup and raised an eyebrow. “That’s only natural. A gift from a maggot crawling in the filth… someone as lofty as the young master would never accept such a thing.”

The words clung to her like a disease eating into the bone, his drawn-out ending sending a chill deep into her marrow. Suppressing the trembling that threatened to overtake her, Zhao Shu parted her lips weakly. “Back then…”

“Saved, gave medicine, offered food.” The malice in Ying Wuji’s eyes poured forth unchecked. “As it turns out, in a single night, I have repaid every kindness Your Highness once showed me.” As though possessed, he suddenly turned, pinching her cheek firmly between two fingers and forcing her to lift her head and meet his gaze. “If the debt of gratitude has now been repaid then according to Your Highness’s own principles and sense of justice, how should I collect the debt of hatred?”

This time he made no effort to lessen his strength. The two of them were so close that the bronze lamp cast their shadows upon the window screen, making it seem as though their foreheads were almost touching.

Outside, Cheng Wu, standing guard through the night with his sword in his arms, let out a yawn. Having just returned with a cup of water from a young servant, he happened to glance toward the paper window from afar.

The sight of their overlapping silhouettes made him spit out a mouthful of water on the spot.

He stood there utterly dumbfounded.

Inside the room, Zhao Shu only felt the side of her face ache where he gripped it. It was not merely painful, it was the sheer malice of being handled as though she were something to be kneaded and toyed with, a humiliation that cut deep.

The disguise paste clinging tightly to her face even seemed in danger of shifting. Anger and panic surged together. She instantly forgot her earlier resolve to humble herself and endure. Raising her leg, she struck back.

“Let go!”

Her kick landed squarely on his knee.

The man did not dodge at all. He took the blow head-on as though it were nothing, then, with a single movement, forced her down against the desk. His grip only grew rougher.

The moment both her legs were pinned, Zhao Shu saw the undisguised satisfaction of revenge in his eyes. She understood then. After humiliating him as she had in the past, there was no chance he would let her off lightly.

For some reason, being pressed onto the desk like a lifeless slab of meat caused all the bitterness, helplessness, and despair she had endured since falling from her lofty position over the past several months to come rushing back at once.

Once again, she fell into hysterical rage. No longer fearing death, she lashed out recklessly.

“Son of a slave woman! B*stard born of Hu barbarians! Insolent cur!”

She had once been a regular on the training grounds. Whenever she felt frustrated, she would casually spar with a few soldiers. So long as she didn’t run into Lian Yu, no one could gain the upper hand against her.

The journey to Qin as a hostage had been long. Along the way, she had suffered endless contempt and mistreatment, though Lian Yu had usually stood up for her. All her resentment had remained bottled up, carried with her all the way from Handan to the Qin palace. That was why it had finally erupted the previous night.

Though Queen Zhao had died young, during the seventeen years of her life Zhao Shu had never once been forced to swallow such humiliation.

Her curses grew increasingly vulgar, utterly unlike the composed prince she had once been. She launched a series of vicious attacks, but before she could even finish a complete combination, he effortlessly neutralized every move.

After that, there was no technique left. She fought wildly, intent only on hurting him somehow.

What she received in return was an ever-tightening restraint on her wrists.

Ying Wuji had long since memorized every aspect of her fighting style. In the past, he had needed to go to great lengths to hold back whenever they sparred. Now, he no longer had any reason to. Three years had passed. This “piece of gold and jade on the outside but rotten wood within” had not improved at all, in fact, she had grown weaker.

A dignified young gentleman, yet in terms of sheer strength… when it came to drawing a bow, she was probably not even as strong as one of Duchess Yong’s maidservants.

His gaze fell upon the bruises on her wrist, now reddening beneath his grip. His brows unconsciously furrowed.

It was already late. He no longer wished to waste time on someone like her.

Without warning, he released her and stepped back. Drawing a square handkerchief from his sleeve, he tossed it directly over Zhao Shu’s face.

Looking down at her as she struggled to catch her breath, he gave a cold smile that never reached his eyes then he said something astonishing. “This letter in which Zhao Wang surrendered his cities… Crown Prince Shu, did you really not notice that even the royal seal was forged?”

Zhao Shu frowned at him. Before she could respond, the hem of his black sleeve brushed past her as he leaned down once more, trapping her in his shadow. They were so close. Beneath that striking face, made all the more handsome by his northern Hu bloodline, she felt an inexplicable embarrassment. Their breaths mingled. The cheek he had pinched red moments before was slapped twice again, not painfully, but with unmistakable mockery.

His voice sounded beside her ear. “A worthless fool who lives only by the achievements of your father and ancestors. I’ve generously spared your life one extra time. From now on… you should go and taste what the real world is truly like.”

He straightened and called loudly.

“Guards! By the King’s decree, escort Crown Prince Shu to the quarry and sentence him to three years of hard labor!”

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