This illness kept Zhao Shu bedridden for a full twenty days.
During her recovery, however, she lacked neither medicine nor good food. Although Cheng Wu still insisted that Qi Ying return to live in her own courtyard, he did not interfere with her coming during the day to care for Zhao Shu personally.
By the twenty-seventh day of the twelfth lunar month, Zhao Shu had mostly recovered. That morning, Qi Ying did not come to share breakfast with her, so Zhao Shu wandered alone through the empty courtyard of Lantai.
She was idly drawing circles in the snow with the tip of her shoe when someone finally arrived with an order. The lord had heard that she had recovered, and since she was well again, it was time for her to find some work to do instead of idly sitting around, eating food for nothing.
Hearing the unfamiliar attendant deliver the order in a shrill, mocking voice, the image of that man’s cold, disdainful face immediately rose before her eyes.
She wondered what method he would use to repay his grievances against her, bit by bit.
Zhao Shu merely frowned briefly before following the attendant away. It was not that she felt no fear. She simply knew he would not take her life. As long as she could endure until the first month of the new year, when her grandfather’s envoy arrived, this nightmare would finally come to an end.
When they reached their destination, Zhao Shu looked over the broad, snow-covered pasture before her. As she listened to the attendant announce her assignment, she felt a faint sense of relief.
She had expected something much worse. It really was nothing more than working as a stable hand.
For other nobles, the stench of the stables and the freezing cold of the hay sheds alone would have been enough to drive them mad, not to mention the dangers of breaking and training fierce horses.
But Zhao Shu was completely different.
More than different, she actually had something of a passion for it.
Ever since childhood, the residence of Young Master Shu had been crowded with visitors every day. Whatever caught her interest, countless people would eagerly gather around to indulge and accompany her.
Yet the more people surrounded her, the less she enjoyed opening her heart to them. Over time, she instead devoted herself to learning everything she could about horses.
So to her, this assignment was not hardship at all. It was practically a reward.
“Thank you for leading me here. I’m afraid I’m not very good at this work. Could someone perhaps give me a few pointers?”
With a miserable expression, she deliberately asked the attendant for guidance, naturally keeping her true feelings hidden.
Stable work was filthy, exhausting, and foul-smelling. Even the palace servants assigned to the laundry bureau refused to work here if they could avoid it. If that man meant to take revenge, then without knowing about her peculiar hobby, he really had chosen the perfect punishment.
Pinching her nose and frowning until the attendant left, she glanced around to make sure no one was nearby before carrying her bundle quite contentedly toward the stable hands’ hut.
After looking over the tiny shack, barely large enough for one person to eat and lie down in, she found that although it looked shabby, it was actually well designed to shelter stable hands from the wind and cold.
The attendant had said she would be the only one living here. Her daily duties would consist of feeding the horses, laying fresh straw, cleaning manure, and if any horse fell ill, going outside to summon the official groom responsible for livestock.
The place was peaceful and deserted, perfectly suited for lying low until the first month of the new year. Best of all, she no longer had to spend every day in Lantai constantly on edge, afraid of running into that man. At the thought, Zhao Shu was almost delighted.
Once her grandfather arrived, relations between the two states would take precedence. By then, perhaps that man would feel he had taken enough revenge and would not provoke the State of Zhou over a personal grudge.
Setting down her bundle, she bit into a cold, hardened flatbread before heading straight for the stables.
***
From the upper floor of Lantai’s main residence, Ying Wuji quietly listened as Cheng Wu vividly described just how cold and miserable the pasture huts were.
After Cheng Wu finished speaking and cautiously stole a glance at him, Ying Wuji merely continued reading the bamboo slips in his hand without comment.
The conditions sounded even harsher than those of the criminals’ quarters where he himself had once lived.
The bamboo slips contained drafts copied by the court scribes, elaborately describing all the ways Crown Prince Shu had been persecuted by Prince Yi after arriving in Qin.
That little face, blue with cold… those drenched strands of hair framing apricot eyes… those slender, smooth shoulders… that graceful waist small enough to encircle with one hand…
Ying Wuji frowned, forcibly dispersing the images that had surfaced in his mind. Tossing the bamboo slips onto the floor, he rebuked them. “The handwriting is imitated flawlessly enough, but the wording and style are wrong. Did none of you actually study his original letter? Forget it. Tell the scribe to copy what I’ve written instead.”
Advisors existed to ease their lord’s burdens. It was rare indeed for a ruler to devise the overall strategy, yet still have to personally handle such trivial details because his own aides could not manage them.
Cheng Wu had not been reprimanded in years, and embarrassment heated his face. Having no desire to involve himself further in the matter of the hostage prince tending horses, he cupped his hands in salute and prepared to withdraw.
Unexpectedly, just as he reached the wooden staircase, his lord spoke again.
“The food and lodging of those stable hands… are they truly as poor and difficult as you described?”
Cheng Wu immediately stopped and turned back, nodding vigorously. “Absolutely. Why, the last stable hand even worked himself into a serious illness.”
To his surprise, the man replied with a faint smile. “If that’s the case, then I can rest easy.”
…
Two days later, Zhao Shu was carefully prying open the ear of a dark bay stallion, examining it closely beneath the morning sunlight. She was so absorbed that she failed to notice Qi Ying’s arrival.
“Yingying!” Zhao Shu exclaimed happily the moment she saw her. Pointing toward the dozen or so horses in the stable, she eagerly recounted her accomplishments. “Mouth ulcers, ear mange, infected sinuses, that’s nothing. There’s even one with severe abdominal bloating from an intestinal blockage! I’m still missing a few medicinal herbs. I’ll have to think of a way to get someone to find them later.”
Qi Ying was somewhat slow-witted. Seeing Zhao Shu looking so lively, she immediately smiled until her eyes curved into crescents and let herself be led over to admire the horses.
“Come look at this chestnut with white stockings. It took me two whole days of brushing before I could secretly ride him once. A horse this fine, there’s never been one like him even in Handan!”
Just as Qi Ying reached out to stroke the horse’s mane, the chestnut snorted loudly through its nostrils. The young girl hastily retreated two steps before suddenly remembering the person who had brought her here, and quickly tugged at Zhao Shu’s sleeve.
“Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. I’ll keep him under control. Yingying, come pet him…”
Before she could finish speaking, a tall figure stooped to enter the stable. Standing with his hands clasped behind his back, he said coolly, “His name is Chiji. He’s my horse.”
That familiar voice, the voice of her nightmares, made Zhao Shu’s hand tremble.
Steadying herself, she quietly pulled Qi Ying behind her before forcing herself to step forward half a pace.
How could Ying Wuji fail to notice such a small gesture? He glanced at Qi Ying, who stood even slightly taller than Zhao Shu, and for reasons he himself could not explain, a trace of displeasure welled up within him.
He suppressed the emotions stirring within him and stepped forward two paces. Seeing that Zhao Shu was clearly frightened yet still stood unmoving, shielding the person behind her, he stopped and said sternly, “Riding my prized horse without permission. Cheng Wu, tell me, what punishment does this warrant?”
“Well… according to the twenty-seventh statute of Qin law, unlawfully using your lord’s property… the lighter sentence is thirty strokes across the back. The heavier… well… the heavier sentence is amputation of both hands and feet.”
Once those words were spoken, the only sound left was the horses chewing their feed. No one dared utter a response.
Qi Ying understood at once. She gave an anxious cry and was just about to step forward to kneel and beg for mercy when Zhao Shu firmly seized her hand, raising her head to meet those emerald eyes.
When she caught the teasing amusement hidden within them, she gathered her courage and said slowly, “Whether you choose the heavier punishment or the lighter one, I leave myself entirely to the Young Lord’s judgment.”
Faced with such unwavering composure, Ying Wuji let out a cold snort. “Since this is your first offense, I’ll show leniency. Crown Prince Zhao shall spend one day leading my horse.”
…
With the New Year fast approaching, there were truly many military camps and government offices that required inspection that day.
From early morning until dusk, Zhao Shu accompanied him without pause, following him for an entire day. Throughout the city, noble residences stood everywhere, interwoven with narrow alleys and endless rows of buildings. At many places she had to lead Chiji on foot. Though a horse had been prepared for her as well, she rarely had the chance to ride it.
Beneath the gloomy, overcast sky, under the covered corridor of the inner courtyard at the Residence of the Minister of Agriculture, she stood to one side with the two imperial guards. Her feet ached and throbbed so badly that she suspected fresh blisters had formed.
This was already the seventh stop. She had never known before that, at the end of the year, an imperial grandson and heir apparent would have so many government offices to inspect.
Sneaking a glance at the two guards accompanying her, she saw them standing as straight and immovable as bronze towers or ancient pines. Earlier at noon, when they had stopped to eat dry rations, Zhao Shu had merely rested a little longer after finishing her meal before being sharply ordered back to her feet.
Now she was exhausted, hungry, and so weary that her legs felt almost weightless beneath her. Remembering the care the soldiers had shown her during the journey as a hostage, she could not help worrying about those men now laboring at the quarry.
Night fell later in Xianyang than it did in Handan. The vast heavens were swallowed by deepening twilight, and only at the end of the Hour of You did the last traces of daylight finally begin to fade.
She looked absentmindedly up at the chiwen ornament perched upon the roof ridge. The sky remained dim and indistinct, poised between light and darkness, a time that always filled people with the greatest unease.
Will Grandfather really come to save me?
If Qin demands cities and strategic lands in exchange… how many cities am I truly worth?
Or perhaps diplomacy will drag on. Even if I am allowed to leave, it may still be delayed by another year… or two…
“Imperial Grandson!”
The clatter of armored footsteps shattered her thoughts.
“To the crossbow camp outside the city.”
The hem of the man’s black robe swept past her as he strode by without even sparing her a glance.
***
Hooves thundered, scattering dust. When a fine horse galloped at full speed in the dead of winter, the icy wind whipping against one’s body was truly miserable.
When they briefly halted at the city gate for inspection, a fox-fur cloak was suddenly tossed over her head. Before the soldiers guarding the gate, Ying Wuji turned back, the corners of his eyes carrying their usual refined warmth. “I dressed warmly today. This cloak only feels cumbersome.”
As countless eyes turned toward her, Zhao Shu was about to refuse when the city gates opened. He tugged on the reins, wheeled his horse around, leaned low in the saddle, cracked his whip, and shot forward like an arrow released from the bowstring.
The guards followed one after another. Left with no choice, Zhao Shu hurriedly fastened the cloak and spurred her horse after them.
The man’s broad back remained straight and imposing. Because he had yet to wear the ceremonial crown, half of his hair hung loose beneath his topknot, giving him the air of a carefree young noble. Yet the fierce manner in which he controlled his horse bore no resemblance to the elegant, gentle demeanor he usually displayed.
Beneath that outward appearance, Zhao Shu knew that his ruthlessness and arrogance had not changed in the slightest from the past.
Beyond the city walls, among withered grasses and lonely villages, she huddled within the windproof cloak, gradually warming. As warmth returned to her body, her thoughts became increasingly clear.
And the clearer they became, the more frightening they seemed. Now that she was alone in Qin, with no one to rely upon, the only person she could possibly depend on… was the very man before her.
Even if he was her sworn enemy, he was the only lifeline she could grasp. Perhaps the only path left was to remain obedient and compliant, allowing him to vent all the resentment he had carried from the past.
As long as she could leave alive, whole and unharmed, and bring Qi Ying safely back to Luoyi, she did not fear these petty humiliations.
…
Several elderly palace eunuchs and civil officials from the Censorate had also arrived at the crossbow camp. Apparently summoned in haste, they too had come riding horses, wrapped tightly in fur cloaks.
Civil officials and elderly eunuchs normally traveled in sedan chairs. Mounting and dismounting horses was difficult for them, so each had brought along a servant to lead their horse.
The moment Zhao Shu saw this, her heart skipped a beat.
She dismounted and quietly retreated behind the imperial guards, her brows knitting together as she remembered one of her royal father’s old habits.
Her royal father had consumed alchemical elixirs for many years, leaving him weaker than ordinary men. Yet he loved riding horses whenever he traveled. As a result, he often brought along beautiful, healthy palace maids, using them as living footstools to help him mount and dismount.
Although her royal father stepping on palace maids was uncommon, using people as mounting stools had long been fashionable among the northern nobility. Back in Handan, Zhao Shu had always disliked the custom, so those who accompanied her rarely did such things.
While she watched those elderly eunuchs, Ying Wuji swung down from his horse, his gaze fixed instead upon her.
She stood stiffly with a solemn face, having already removed the fox-fur cloak and returned it. Secretly, she rubbed her freezing hands together, where numerous cracked sores from the cold were plainly visible.
His heart tightened. His fingers unconsciously pinched the leather guard around his wrist. Then his thoughts shifted, and a trace of irritation surfaced.
She would rather freeze her hands raw than lower her head? Then let her suffer.
Zhao Shu noticed none of this. She simply kept her head lowered as respectfully as possible, though unease flickered across her lowered gaze.
Sure enough, the servants one by one knelt before their masters’ horses, pressing their foreheads firmly into the yellow earth, curling themselves into crouched shapes like shrimp beneath the saddles.
After the group finished exchanging formal greetings, an officer from the crossbow camp came forward to direct the servants to their respective places.
The officer knew nothing of the situation. He had only noticed Zhao Shu’s unusual behavior earlier. Judging that this servant clearly knew nothing of etiquette or proper decorum, he had intended to scold her, but ultimately restrained himself out of caution.
…
It was not until the end of the Hour of Xu that Ying Wuji and the others finally emerged from the crossbow camp.
The horses were led over one by one and lined up in a neat row. The servants naturally knelt in succession to serve as mounting stools. Only Zhao Shu remained standing quietly with her hands folded before her.
Even Ying Wuji noticed how conspicuous she appeared.
His mind was still occupied with the design of the new crossbow he had just examined, thoughts swirling endlessly through his head, so he merely regarded her with an indifferent, cold gaze.
Watching the civil officials and elderly eunuchs mount their horses one after another by stepping onto their human footstools, the military officer finally felt that something was amiss. He stepped forward and cracked his whip through the air, the lash striking the ground just in front of Zhao Shu’s feet.
In Qin, a horse leader was the lowliest of servants. Even if someone beat one to death on a whim, it would cost no more than a few pieces of silver in compensation. This officer was a cautious man. Out of consideration for the Imperial Grandson’s residence, he had merely used the empty crack of the whip as a warning.
“You insignificant stable slave, lowlier than an ant! Just because your own master is generous, you’ve started forgetting your place!”
Even after those words were spoken, Ying Wuji still gave no response.
The officer took this as confirmation. Stepping forward, he sternly ordered Zhao Shu to kneel and serve as a mounting stool.
Zhao Shu had already seen the coldness in that man’s eyes. She assumed he had deliberately devised this method to break her spirit.
As the officer’s rebukes grew harsher, her expression changed again and again, as though she had returned to the desperate humiliation of the day she first entered the city. But back then, her angry defiance had nearly cost the lives of everyone who had accompanied her as hostages.
The furious retort rising in her chest was swallowed back down. Suddenly, she gave a desolate smile. With a forceful sweep of her coarse robe, she knelt directly beneath the saddle.
What did honor matter compared to one’s life?
What crown prince? What noble blood?
She was neither of those anymore.
The instant she bent her body down, she felt a furious gaze pinning itself upon her.
But she neither had the time nor the heart to look.
