The people from the Yushun Fishing House came sooner than Hua Zhi had expected. Their manager put on a courteous face, yet every word revealed an underlying forcefulness.

“Our proprietor says that it’s rare for a guest of your standing to come to a small place like ours, and that we ought to offer some proper hospitality. Staying in this worn-down inn is far too beneath you — our proprietor has already arranged a clean and comfortable courtyard residence. You need only follow me there.”

Even as he spoke, he moved to signal his men to start handling the luggage. Yu Tao shifted a step and planted himself in the way. He towered over the manager by nearly a head, and the man involuntarily stepped back, his expression turning unfavorable. “The young miss surely comes from somewhere grand — but as the old saying goes, even a mighty dragon cannot subdue the local serpent. Our territory may be small, but it has those who cannot be provoked. I’d advise the young miss not to push her luck.”

Hua Zhi lowered her head and smiled. So it was true — without the Hua Family’s protection, the moment she stepped outside the capital, everyone assumed she was easy to bully. Even people from a small place like this thought they could step on her.

“Throw him out.”

Yu Tao wasted not a single word. He seized the manager by the collar and hurled him out the door. The crash of impact — from the sound alone — made it clear it had to hurt.

The manager let out a yelp, then screamed at the top of his lungs: “What are you all standing there for? Get them!”

It was frankly beneath Yu Tao’s skills to deal with men like these. He kicked them one by one, sending each to keep the manager company.

Eventually the manager had the sense to drop his bluster. He was helped up and fled.

Shao Yao was a little put out. “Hua Zhi, why didn’t you let me do it?”

“Are you worried you won’t get your chance? Once you hit the dog, the master will have to show his face — otherwise where does he put his dignity?” Hua Zhi’s lips curved slightly. “If I had to avoid everyone in this place, I’d spend the rest of my days looking down at the ground in front of whoever I met.”

Shao Yao immediately broke into a grin. She’d been cooped up for far too long.

Bao Xia and Xu Ying went to borrow the inn’s kitchen and began preparing a meal. Worried something might flare up at any moment, Bao Xia also set aside extra provisions as a precaution.

Village meals typically came twice a day, morning and evening. The innkeeper drifted past several times with thinly veiled curiosity, swallowing at the smell of the food, his heart caught between dread and an irresistible temptation — wondering all the while what on earth these people’s background was. That had been the Yushun manager they’d just thrown out the door. Could they really expect to come out of this unscathed?

Well, he figured, once the Yushun people came calling, maybe he’d finally get a proper meal for himself. Thinking that, he swallowed again.

Hua Zhi didn’t wait for Liu Zi. She had a portion set aside for him and then sat down to eat without him.

Out here, the usual formalities didn’t apply. She and Shao Yao shared a table; the others gathered at a smaller one nearby.

By the sea, seafood was the one thing no one lacked. Bao Xia’s cooking couldn’t rival Fu Dong’s, but the ingredients were exceptional — boiled with nothing but a pinch of salt, they were so fresh it made you want to swallow your tongue along with it.

Shao Yao had her head down and hadn’t looked up once.

Suddenly, Yu Tao set down his bowl and crossed to the window. Shao Yao was only a beat behind him, moving swiftly to follow. Sensing something wrong, Hua Zhi put down her chopsticks.

“Liu Zi has a tail. Yu Tao, cut it off.”

Yu Tao said nothing, threw the window open as wide as it would go, and leaped directly out. Shao Yao let out a cold laugh. Playing docile tigers with her, were they? With a flick of her wrist, four small pellets pinched between her fingers shot outward with a twist of hidden force, bursting into powder and drifting down squarely onto the heads of those giving chase. Yu Tao, moving in perfect coordination, kicked the foremost attacker off his feet and fell back into the inn.

The powder floated down and settled on the men. Immediately someone let out a shriek, and then screams came one after another. Hua Zhi stepped to the window and looked down — she could see them rolling on the ground, faces, necks, hands all clawed raw and bloody, not even their heads spared, people tearing out fistfuls of their own hair as though they felt no pain at all and couldn’t stop.

She didn’t ask what the medicine was, or what consequences it would bring. She only watched, cold-eyed, with no particular feeling stirring inside her. Even without Shao Yao, she wouldn’t have shown any mercy on her own — going soft on them meant cutting off her own escape.

The door was pushed open. Hua Zhi turned to see a child come in at a half-run, breathing slightly fast, his eyes calm and free of panic. Such was the nature of those born into the imperial family — they were steadier than ordinary people without even having lived through very much.

“Are you hurt?”

The Sixth Prince shook his head. “As soon as they noticed something was wrong, they shielded me and ran. It was the Yushun Fishing House’s people?”

“I can’t think of who else it would be.” Hua Zhi beckoned to him. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you? Come and have something first.”

The Sixth Prince stared — and so did the guards who filed in behind him. For a moment, no one quite knew what to say. Shouldn’t the immediate priority be figuring out how to resolve this situation?

“Shao Yao — this time I won’t stop you. But no one can die.” Hua Zhi led Liu Zi to the table and sat him down, gesturing for Bao Xia to bring over his food. “If we don’t hurt them badly enough for the lesson to stick, even after I settle the deal with Wu Zheng they’ll keep finding ways to make trouble. This time we make it so they never dare think about us again.”

Shao Yao laughed out loud and leaped straight through the window. Aside from Yu Tao who stayed behind, the other three guards followed at once.

Hua Zhi didn’t watch. She picked up her chopsticks again and continued eating at a measured pace, occasionally selecting a morsel for Liu Zi’s bowl — a quiet, wordless urging for him to eat.

The Sixth Prince lowered his head, hiding behind the motion of scooping rice the smile that had crept into his eyes. No matter how he thought about it, he could not fathom how the Hua Family — a family like that — had produced someone like Hua Jie.

When Shao Yao and the others returned, it was more than half an hour later. Shao Yao, having finally vented her frustrations, was radiant and smiling so wide her eyebrows looked ready to take flight. The moment she was back she pressed close to Hua Zhi and reported like a child seeking praise: “We turned that fishing house inside out. Don’t worry, Hua Zhi — they won’t be coming after you anymore.”

Wang Cheng stole a glance at Shao Yao and didn’t dare give away the full story. Never mind “turning the fishing house inside out” — the Yushun proprietor was currently somewhere between dead and alive. But given how obedient Shao Yao was in front of the young mistress, and given that she had said no one was to die, it could be assumed she had left him at least one last breath.

They hadn’t tried to stop Shao Yao’s rampage — how could anyone have anticipated that even in a backwater place like this, people could be equally vicious? Those twins couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve years old, yet they had been subjected to such torment. Carrying a past like that — even if they survived — they might well prefer not to.

Seeing that Shao Yao had no intention of bringing it up, Wang Cheng had no choice but to speak. “Those twins…”

The smile on Shao Yao’s face went cold by degrees. “Put them out of their misery.”

Hua Zhi took Shao Yao’s hand and looked at her in silence.

Shao Yao was quiet for a long while before speaking. “That black-hearted fiend wasn’t human. He’d reduced a pair of siblings to something flayed and broken. Better to die clean than to live carrying those memories.”

“That debt of lives shouldn’t rest on you. You should have handed them to—” Hua Zhi’s voice went hoarse. A life spanning decades was neither long nor short — and with a past like theirs, spending it trapped in this small place and grinding through the days truly might be worse than death.

Yet she couldn’t simply stand by and watch people breathe their last before her eyes. Hua Zhi patted Shao Yao’s hand. “Do what you can. Once you’ve done your utmost, your conscience is clear.”

“I already knew you’d say that.” Shao Yao muttered, though the redness in her eyes was slowly giving way to something warmer. Hadn’t she always known? Hua Zhi was just that kind of person.