Chapter 14

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The sky was pitch black, with no lights around. Wang Chun was stuffed inside a burlap sack, curled into a ball, her ears filled only with the relentless pounding of her own heartbeat. Chen Si, who carried her, was just as miserable—his limbs trembling and sweat pouring down his forehead. Knowing the palace guards lurked in the shadows, he forced himself to maintain the usual cautious, furtive demeanor; this small measure of tension was hard to conceal.

When the air gradually took on a damp, fishy scent, Wang Chun realized they had reached the ferry crossing.

Sure enough, Chen Si set her down from his shoulder, glanced around left and right, and imitated a cuckoo’s call a few times.

Amidst the chorus of insects and frogs by the water, a few bird calls didn’t seem out of place. Chen Si listened carefully, and after a moment, faint bird songs answered him from the southeast.

He exhaled a thick breath and glanced back toward the endless darkness behind him, where a dozen or so shadowy figures stood in formation, watching his every move. Any trick he attempted would instantly have him riddled with arrows.

Chen Si swallowed hard, thinking to himself, "Brother, I'm not betraying you, but I can barely keep my own life safe here. Don’t blame me!"

Then he headed in the direction of the bird calls.

A fishing boat was moored at the shore.

A lean, gaunt young man sat inside the cabin, growing impatient. Seeing Chen Si, he eyed him warily. "You're two quarters late. Where’s the cargo?"

Chen Si lowered his head submissively and bent down to untie the sack. He pushed aside Wang Chun’s disheveled hair, revealing a delicate face and trembling eyes.

The man was satisfied and let down his guard, stepping out of the cabin. But as he looked up, a gleaming long knife pressed against his forehead. The man wielding the blade stared at him fiercely.

Sensing danger, the young man tried to dive into the water, but was immediately surrounded.

He exploded in anger, "How dare you report to the officials! Do you think you’re innocent?"

Gao Qi retracted his blade, wiping its edge, sneering coldly, "Don’t rush. This is just to reunite you all in prison. Take them away!"

Wang Chun watched helplessly as Chen Si and the others were led away by the palace guards. She was so frightened she was nearly stunned. If not for these officers rescuing her, she would have been at the mercy of those men just now. She could truly have been trafficked and sold somewhere unknown!

Wang Chun covered her face and began to cry.

At first, she buried her head and her shoulders shook softly, but gradually her sobs grew louder, scaring the river frogs into silence.

The palace guards exchanged glances, uncertain how to handle this delicate-looking girl. No one dared approach to comfort her.

Gao Qi had never seen such a scene before. It was only a brief moment of substitution, no real danger at all. Was all this really necessary?

Besides, she hadn’t cried when she was being trafficked, nor when those two were nearby. Now that it was over, why was she crying so much? Girls’ hearts were truly hard to fathom.

He muttered to himself, then pulled out a handkerchief and offered it to her. "Alright, it’s over now."

Wang Chun sniffled and looked up, eyeing the crumpled handkerchief with some disdain and refusing it.

Gao Qi was speechless.

He nonchalantly stuffed the handkerchief back into his chest and turned to his onlookers, kicking the one laughing the loudest. "Back to your posts!"

At the suburban dock in the capital.

The sun hung high overhead, the busiest time of day. The scent of food, the sweat of laborers, and the calls of street vendors mixed into a cacophony. When the crowd gathered, noise erupted, and staying too long bred a bitter feeling of misfortune.

Lai Yapo scolded away a boy carrying a basket of flatbreads and kept glancing toward the ferry.

It was strange—ships that normally arrived by morning had yet to appear at noon. The fierce autumn sun made Lai Yapo dizzy and fuming with frustration. She planned how she would curse those tricksters who had been slacking off.

As time dragged on, her unease grew. She felt something had gone wrong over there.

Her years of caution told her to turn back immediately. She returned home and pushed open the door to find her son, Lian Gui, fast asleep on the bed.

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Lai Yapo cursed under her breath and shook him awake firmly.

Lian Gui, still drowsy, impatiently asked, “What’s wrong, old woman?”

Lai Yapo had no time for his questions and hurriedly packed her things, urging, "Pack up quickly. We can't stay here anymore. We’re moving today."

Lian Gui jolted awake. “Did the officials catch someone?”

“Don’t talk nonsense! Let’s go!” she snapped, though her heart grew ever more anxious.

Within half a day, the two had moved to an alley in the city’s west district. Here, all sorts of people mingled—various classes and trades. As an old widow with a single son, she blended into the crowd unnoticed.

Lian Gui sat cross-legged on the kang stove, puffing on dry tobacco, dissatisfied with their shabby new home. Lai Yapo frowned and scolded, “This is karmic retribution. What I owed you in the last life, you owe me now. Go find a wife, settle down, and I won’t bother with you anymore!”

They ate their afternoon meal in silence. Afterward, Lian Gui lay back down, motionless. Lai Yapo went out to gather news, but there was no sign of her associates. Her worry deepened, convinced they had chosen the right place to relocate.

Returning home, she cut her hair short to change her appearance and warned her son, "Don’t go out idling these next few days."

Lian Gui responded with irritation.

Besides dealing with wealthy clients, Lai Yapo secretly worked with the city’s pleasure quarters. Those who sold their children were usually impoverished families, pale and thin, with unremarkable talents. Wealthy households wouldn’t take them, and those sold to brothels ended up as lowly servants, earning little.

Through introductions, Lai Yapo had made connections with local street performers.

It was just a way to make a living; she didn’t see herself as sinful. Their men had died early, leaving them widows and orphans. If she wasn’t ruthless, it would be them who got bullied.

After moving, Lai Yapo still felt uneasy. Ever cautious, she hurried to offload a batch of girls aged twelve or thirteen. She didn’t care about fetching a high price, only safety.

Then she stayed home to rest, waiting for the trouble to pass in a few months before seeking more fortune.

At the Cui residence.

Tonight was Bai Shu’s last night at the Bamboo Garden. Tomorrow morning, her brother would come to take her home for a few days before her wedding on the twelfth.

Though the Bamboo Garden companions were usually under her strict control and sometimes complained, now, seeing her leave, none wanted to part. The youngest, Chong Yun, and her roommate Sang Ye even had tears in their eyes.

They all helped her prepare her makeup.

Sang Ye took out a pair of old-fashioned gold bracelets, had them reworked outside into a set of arm-wrapping floral bangles.

The other maidservants weren’t as generous; some gave embroidered pillow covers or silver trinkets.

Surrounded in the middle, Bai Shu laughed, “What’s the fuss? It’s not like we’ll never see each other again. I’ll be back after having a child. Maybe then you’ll find me annoying for nagging too much.”

Sang Ye wiped her tears and smiled, “You’re not even married yet, shameless.”

Bai Shu sighed, “You’re just a few months younger, you’ll be there soon too.”

Sang Ye blushed and spat, “Annoying.”

As they spoke, Cui Yuan came down the corridor, dressed in plain white robes, elegant and serene. The jasmine vines were in full bloom, their fragrance clinging to him like fresh mountain air.

Bai Shu bowed with a smile. “Young master, your servant has come to bid farewell.”

Cui Yuan stopped a few steps away, his gaze sweeping over her pretty face.

He remembered when she first arrived at his side—not yet as tall as Chong Yun—and now, she had grown so much.

The maid who had served him so well stood there, looking graceful and composed, stirring many thoughts in him.

He nodded, “Come.”

He stepped forward.

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Sang Ye smiled and nudged her, “Go on, the young master will surely reward you.”

Bai Shu gently tapped her and then followed with the poise of a senior maid.

Outside the window, a pair of parrots squawked cheerfully, their calls clear and bright. The young master faced away, standing by the window feeding them. Hearing the sound, he didn’t turn but said, “Check the things on the table.”

Bai Shu walked over, unwrapped the outer paper, and froze.

“The matter Ling Xiao came to you about that day—I asked if you agreed. Now I ask again because I don’t want you to marry just out of your status.”

“After all, this is your life.”

Cui Yuan clasped his hands behind his back and spoke calmly.

Bai Shu stared at the deed in her hands, speechless for a long time.

Returning her household registration and enduring a hard life, she would be free in the future to divorce or remarry. This was the fallback Cui Yuan had prepared for her.

After all, which groom hadn’t sweet-talked his bride before marriage, only for their life together to be a mess afterward?

Bai Shu thought the young master would reward her with money, silver, or even a house. She never imagined it would be this—a document.

“I'm willing, young master. I’m truly willing,” she said sincerely, bowing deeply.

Cui Yuan turned and looked at the top of her head. For a moment, her figure overlapped with that small maid who had first bowed to him years ago.

She was the first maid he had sent off in marriage; this place was her half home.

Even Ling Xiao, who had been with him since childhood, was like a long-time companion, but a woman marrying was like a rebirth. Cui Yuan understood Bai Shu’s hardships all the more.

“Ling Xiao’s situation is the same. I’ve warned him—the way you live from now on is your own business.”

Finally, he added, “Come back early.”

This was his promise to Bai Shu—that there would still be a place and dignity for her by his side.

Having just joked with Sang Ye, Bai Shu now had tears in her eyes. “Young master, you must also take care of yourself.”

Cui Yuan seemed to smile faintly.

Some things were understood without words.

Bai Shu wiped her tears, and as her blurred vision cleared, she saw her young master entering with an increasingly healthy complexion, which comforted her.

After reminiscing, it was time to arrange the handover.

Bai Shu began her report: “The previously aired collection of books, the rare editions and manuscripts, are all stored in the ‘Jia’ labeled chests. The oldest are on top. The rest are sorted by author and content. Books from ‘Jia’ to ‘Wu’ are the young master’s frequent use and kept in Chengxin Study, the remainder are in Baopu Hall.”

“The warehouse keys are entrusted to Sang Ye. She’s meticulous, so it should be fine. I’ve also handed over some miscellaneous matters to her.”

“All to Sang Ye?” Cui Yuan asked, slightly doubtful.

It wasn’t that he doubted Sang Ye’s ability but the sheer volume and complexity of the affairs made him worry she might be overwhelmed.

Seeing this, Bai Shu said, “Young master, I think Ying’er is thorough and pleasant-tempered. After I leave, Sang Ye alone might be busy beyond her capacity. It would be better to have her assist Sang Ye.”

Cui Yuan looked over.

“For the kitchen, there’s no one suitable for now, so Ying’er will have to work hard, with Suhe assisting her.”

Bai Shu’s decisiveness and thoroughness covered every detail, then she sought his opinion. “What do you think, young master?”

Cui Yuan stroked the parrot’s head, lost in thought. After a moment, he nodded slightly.