Bao Zhu paid the goldsmith an express fee, and after wandering the streets for most of the day, thinking that the items she had ordered should be ready, she turned back toward the gold and silver shop. When she arrived at the shop and inquired, they were indeed finished. She had Wei Xun wait outside while she personally inspected the quality of the finished products, weighed them, and paid the processing fee.

When Wei Xun saw her emerge from the shop, he deliberately looked at her hair ornament, where only that osmanthus flower remained.

He asked suspiciously, “What did you buy?”

Bao Zhu’s eyebrows danced with joy as she said, “Stretch out your hand.”

Wei Xun, wary that she might play some hand-slapping game, hesitantly extended his palm.

Bao Zhu pressed something heavy and cold into his palm. Wei Xun looked closely and saw it was actually a handful of gleaming golden Kaiyuan Tongbao coins.

“Count them.”

Wei Xun fingered the gold coins in his hand – exactly ten pieces. “What is this?”

Bao Zhu’s eyes sparkled brightly as she said earnestly, “When we set out on this journey, my expenses exceeded my income, and I had no money to pay the deposit for hiring you. Today I finally have some spare funds. Chen Shigu once bought you with ten copper coins, and now I’m using ten gold coins to redeem you back.”

She thought for a moment, feeling her words were perhaps too serious, and added playfully in jest, “This is the betrothal gift to replace the dried fish. When I have time, I’ll write you a proper contract for hiring a cat servant. Ten gold for ten copper – surely that’s not unfair treatment for a great master like you?”

Wei Xun gripped the gold coins, standing stunned in the street, feeling as though all the clamorous sounds of carriages and horses around him had completely vanished, with only the words “I’m redeeming you back” thundering in his ears.

Shisan Lang was also overjoyed, and since his hands were full of packages, he nudged Wei Xun with his elbow, saying in a lowered voice, “Congratulations, senior brother, from now on you’ll be the Princess’s cat servant!”

Wei Xun couldn’t say a word, his heart greatly shaken. After a moment he came to his senses and felt bashful, his ears turning bright red. His five fingers gripped tightly, and when he became aware of it, the gold coins had already been squeezed slightly out of shape. He quickly loosened his grip, carefully straightening each coin one by one, wrapping them gently in a cloth, and placing them in the pouch hanging from his belt.

The three of them walked happily down the street. Wei Xun desperately wanted to buy something to give her in return, but couldn’t bear to use these ten special gold coins. Born with illness, he had known only martial arts practice and medicine-seeking since childhood, having seen countless rare treasures underground, never having worldly material desires. Yet now his heart suddenly burned with an urgent impulse to steal an entire treasure vault for her.

He saw a delicate autumn begonia extending from within the fence of a Persian residence by the roadside, thinking that the osmanthus flower in her hair was wilting and she should replace it with a fresh flower. He hung his packages on the donkey’s saddle and quickly walked over to pick the flower.

Bao Zhu understood his intention and waited happily. Suddenly from behind came shouting voices driving people away: “Official procession, pedestrians halt, do not obstruct!”

She turned to look and saw a red-robed official riding out, his robes indicating roughly fifth rank or above, with six attendants. According to regulations, in Chang’an, officials could not freely enter and exit markets unless on official business, but Luoyang’s rules were evidently less strict. Not only did this person openly enter and exit the South Market, but he also had attendants clearing the streets and driving away pedestrians.

In the past when encountering such scenes, Bao Zhu would usually ride on the donkey while Wei Xun led the reins to take her to the roadside, and no conflicts had ever occurred. Now facing official authority and ceremonial procession directly, the thought of dodging never flashed through her mind. While other passersby had all stepped aside, she still stood dumbly in the middle of the road, not having snapped out of it.

The leading attendant raised his riding whip to strike. Seeing that the person blocking the road was a graceful and beautiful young woman, he dared not strike her head or face, only brushing past her body with a stroke, the whip’s tip landing softly on her skirt hem. He casually cursed:

“Don’t loiter, are you deaf?!”

Bao Zhu’s heart shook violently, her whole body stiffening, unable to step back.

At this moment Wei Xun had arrived, snatched the riding whip from the attendant’s hand, and swept his eyes carefully over Bao Zhu’s body, confirming she was uninjured. With a casual stretch of his ape-like arm, he raised his hand and threw the riding whip far away onto the roof of a tavern across the street.

Those attendants, seeing that a blue-clothed slave dared to be so insolent, rolled up their sleeves and prepared to gang up on him.

The official on horseback saw the fresh osmanthus flower in Bao Zhu’s hair and exclaimed in surprise, demanding, “Young lady, where did you get this osmanthus flower?!”

“What flower she wears is none of your business to ask.”

A cold, murderous chill swept over them. People might be dull, but horses have keen instincts – the official’s mount startled and whinnied, throwing its master off. The attendants hadn’t yet had time to throw their punches when they turned to see their master had fallen from his horse, immediately thrown into panic, some rushing to chase the horse, others to help the man up.

Wei Xun pulled Bao Zhu’s hand, Shisan Lang led the donkey, and the group turned into another quiet alley, finding an unremarkable street eatery to sit down in.

Bao Zhu was dispirited and silent. Wei Xun thought that the whip hadn’t actually struck her, so how could she be so frightened out of her wits?

He asked, “Do you know those people?”

Bao Zhu shook her head without speaking, staring blankly as if her soul had wandered away. Wei Xun couldn’t get anything out of her, so he simply ordered a bowl of wonton from the proprietor to let her drink some hot soup to calm her nerves.

After a while longer, Yang Xingjian found lodging, settled the ox cart and luggage, and returned to the South Market to look for people, calling “Fangxie” street by street until he finally found Shisan Lang, who led him into the alley. Seeing Bao Zhu absent-minded with tears in her eyes, Yang Xingjian was surprised and worried, calling Wei Xun outside the shop to ask about what had happened.

After hearing the account, Yang Xingjian slapped his thigh: “Terrible, this is my oversight.”

Wei Xun asked puzzledly, “Are you afraid that official recognized her?”

Yang Xingjian shook his head, saying ruefully, “I should have instructed you earlier – Luoyang is after all the Eastern Capital, with high officials and dignitaries second only to Chang’an. The ancient saying goes that when brave warriors meet on a narrow path, the braver wins, but in court politics, a higher rank by even one level can crush someone to death. In such situations, you should have led her into a roadside shop to browse beforehand, not confronting them directly.”

Wei Xun explained, “That whip didn’t actually hit her, and the other party didn’t intend to cause injury.”

Yang Xingjian sighed, “For these high-ranking people, status and hierarchy are sometimes even more important than life itself. Over matters like disputing right of way, they would risk their careers and fortunes. Someone like me, a minor official, has long been accustomed to dismounting and yielding, enduring insults with a smile. But the Princess has never suffered such humiliation. In the palace, she was honored and favored – not to mention officials, even princes and royal dukes had to sensibly yield way before her phoenix carriage. How could she have experienced being driven away by attendants and servants? Never having been struck, naturally she cannot bear such treatment. Though that whip didn’t hit her, it was equivalent to being severely beaten in public.”

Wei Xun stood stunned for a moment, recalling the conflict at Anhua Gate in Chang’an, after which Bao Zhu had returned to Cuiwei Temple with thoughts of suicide. He abandoned Yang Xingjian and hurried back to her side, grasping her wrist to check her pulse. He found it chaotic and weak, rising and falling irregularly, truly showing signs of internal injury.

In broad daylight, with him by her side for protection, he had unknowingly allowed her to suffer internal injury. Wei Xun’s anger surged as he declared, “Wait here, I’ll go back right now and give those people a thorough beating.”

Hearing these words, Bao Zhu slightly regained her senses, grasping his sleeve with her other hand, saying quietly, “No need. They actually did nothing wrong. This is the power the court grants to officials – ruler and minister, superior and subordinate, all have their proper order. When he encounters a superior, he too must dismount and yield. My former attendants also did the same…”

Eunuch guards clearing streets and driving people away, galloping wildly down Zhuque Avenue – these were the most ordinary things then, only now did she realize they were privileges. The more she spoke, the lower her voice became. Having wandered the martial world for several months, carefully cared for by the Wei Xun brothers and Yang Xingjian, though lacking in food and clothing, she had never been wronged. In her heart she still considered herself a noble princess of the Li Tang dynasty. Today’s small incident made her truly experience that her former status had actually long since vanished without trace, never to return.

Against scoundrels like the lion Luo Chengye and the rakshasa bird, she could raise her bow and eliminate them, but against rules within the established order, even if she shot her arrows, they would only fall into empty space. She had once traveled unobstructed by virtue of imperial blood and authority. The rules remained the same rules – now that she had fallen from the peak of that order, could she refuse to acknowledge them?

This whip was like being loudly shouted at when drowsily refusing to get up from bed, completely awakening her from her golden millet dream.

Bao Zhu’s heart was bitter. She fumbled to remove the osmanthus branch from her hair, had Shisan Lang retrieve the lacquered glass box from the luggage, and placed it back inside, murmuring, “That person actually reminded me – I must be careful in the city. If someone with ulterior motives recognizes this as osmanthus from Changliang Temple and investigates, it would be rather troublesome.”

Yang Xingjian respectfully said, “Fangxie is very cautious.”

Wei Xun reached into the box to take out the flower branch and pin it back in her hair, stating bluntly, “You just wear it boldly. If anyone blind starts trouble, I’ll go back and chop down that tree directly, so from now on no one in all of Luoyang can wear any!”

Yang Xingjian was dumbstruck. Shisan Lang said proudly, “This is our Canyang Academy’s way of doing things – if you’re going to monopolize a flower tree, you’d better have the ability to back it up.”

Hearing the words of the two brothers, though Bao Zhu knew the situation wouldn’t actually change, her heart still felt comforted. She wiped her eyes and managed to squeeze out a slight smile. After a while, she slowly finished the bowl of now-cold wonton. If there was anything she had learned on this journey, it was not to waste food – no matter the circumstances, when there was something to eat, she must hurry to fill her stomach.

Yang Xingjian took the opportunity to report the lodging address: he had rented a residence in Cihui Ward from a property agent – a courtyard that had once been some high official’s secondary residence. Though not large in area, it excelled in beautiful scenery.

Cihui Ward was not far from the South Market. Everyone followed him to this place, and Bao Zhu saw that this small courtyard offered tranquility amid the bustle. The main building was a two-story small tower standing beside the Luo River. The Luo River ran east-west through Luoyang city, and climbing the tower allowed one to appreciate the scenery on both riverbanks, with distant views even reaching the precious spire of Tongtian Palace within Ziwei City.

Though the courtyard could hardly be called luxurious, it was quiet and elegant, much more peaceful than the coming and going of inns. The white-washed courtyard walls were inscribed with many famous poets’ verses. Bao Zhu praised, “Administrator Yang was thoughtful,” though she actually had no intention of climbing the tower to enjoy the view.

She said she wanted to go out for a walk to clear her mind. Wei Xun left his junior brother and the donkey behind and followed her out of the courtyard.

After walking just a few steps along the riverbank, they reached Xinzhong Bridge. The sun was setting in the west, and the evening drums announcing curfew sounded one after another. Pedestrians hurried along, crossing the stone bridge that connected north and south, each heading toward their own homes.

Bao Zhu leaned her arms on the stone railing at the bridge’s edge, gazing pensively at the Luo River flowing eastward in mighty torrents. The setting sun slowly sank into the rosy clouds, and though the Ziwei City architectural complex to the west remained magnificent, careful observation revealed mottled palace walls overgrown with wild grass.

The Book of the Later Han states: “Heaven has the Purple Forbidden Enclosure, which is where the Supreme Emperor resides. When rulers establish palaces, they model them after this.” A hundred years ago, when Luoyang was still the center of the great Tang Empire, this was the divine capital where all nations came to pay tribute. Now the once gorgeous and magnificent palace city had long fallen into disrepair, like the sinking sun, its decline irreversible.

The two stood side by side on the bridge, remaining silent for a while. Wei Xun saw her teardrops falling one by one down her cheeks, disappearing into the Luo River. Not knowing how to comfort her, he said, “If pearls fall into the river, they can’t be retrieved.”

Bao Zhu gazed at the ruined Luoyang palace towers and remained silent for a while. Suddenly from within the rented courtyard came the donkey’s harsh, unpleasant braying, followed by Yang Xingjian’s startled cries of pain – apparently he had been kicked by the donkey again. That donkey had never liked him, and tasks like removing saddles and bridles and moving luggage had always been Wei Xun’s responsibility.

Bao Zhu said softly, “Go ahead, I want to be alone for a while.”

The stone bridge was not far from the courtyard and was a conspicuous place with people coming and going. Wei Xun instructed, “Just stay right here, don’t wander off. I’ll come find you after I get things settled.”

Bao Zhu nodded in agreement.

After he left, the evening drums sounded dozens more times. Bao Zhu felt someone pat her shoulder, and a gentle voice asked, “Why are you crying alone on the bridge? Do you have anywhere to go tonight?”

Turning around, she saw a square-faced man in his thirties standing behind her, dark-complexioned, wearing short brown work clothes, with a knife scar across his left eyebrow.

Bao Zhu became alert and immediately stopped crying, reciting her rehearsed story: “I have somewhere to go, I don’t do odd jobs, my father is on the shore, and my brother is coming with the donkey to fetch me.”

The man’s expression became somewhat awkward. He responded, “I thought you wanted to… since you have somewhere to go, that’s good,” then left sheepishly.

After another moment, as the sky grew darker, Bao Zhu thought there was no point in continuing to wait and returned along the original route toward Cihui Ward. Just as she reached the bridge head, she saw a thin old woman by the roadside supporting a young woman, urging her to keep walking forward. But the young woman was clutching her belly and moaning softly, apparently unable to take another step.

Bao Zhu walked over to them and saw that the woman’s belly was greatly swollen – she was a pregnant woman about to give birth.

“Come on, just a few more steps and we’ll be home. You can’t give birth in the street!”

The old woman tried to help the pregnant woman up, but being aged herself, she lacked the strength. Seeing Bao Zhu passing by, she appealed to her: “Good lady, my daughter-in-law suddenly has severe abdominal pain – I think the baby is coming. Please help us, my home is nearby.”