This room wasn’t large—a single space divided into three sections, with a bedroom, sitting room, and study.

This was the most modest dwelling Chu Zhao had lived in across both her past and present lives.

“After two months of rushing, we finally finished it on schedule,” Mu Mianhong had told her at the time, looking relieved as she wrapped Chu Zhao’s cloak tighter and gently stroked her face. “I was worried there wouldn’t be a place for my dear child to live.”

Throughout the journey, Chu Zhao had listened to her mother use various endearments for her. Now that her mind was clear again, she felt somewhat embarrassed, as if she were growing younger instead of older.

“With Mother here, how could there be no place for me to live?” she had responded with an equally embarrassing statement.

Xiao Man had rolled her eyes at them both.

Chu Zhao smiled at the memory as she sat down at the desk. Xiao Man ran out again and brought in the mutton.

“Serve yourself,” she said. “You’re better now, so don’t expect me to feed you anymore.”

Chu Zhao quickly replied, “I can feed you.”

Her gaze fell on Xiao Man’s right shoulder. Though it was no longer wrapped in bandages, whether cooking and carrying dishes, chopping firewood, or mounting horses, Xiao Man always used her left hand.

She had even begun practicing with sword and blade using her left hand.

Xiao Man glared at her and served rice with her left hand before eating heartily.

Chu Zhao smiled and served her own rice. Footsteps sounded outside, and Mu Mianhong entered.

“I could smell the aroma from outside,” she said with a laugh, removing her cloak. She washed her hands in the bronze basin nearby and sat down.

Both Xiao Man and Chu Zhao stood up. Seeing each other rise, they both sat back down.

“Xiao Man, serve your aunt some rice,” Chu Zhao said with a smile.

Xiao Man kept her head down eating meat and said, “I’ve been serving Aunt for a long time now. It’s your turn to show filial piety.”

Mu Mianhong laughed. “You two children have both suffered. Let me take care of you.” She broke apart the steamed flatbread on the table and gave each of them a piece.

Chu Zhao accepted it with a smile. Xiao Man also took hers and ducked her head, giggling.

The three of them sat around the table eating and talking.

“We’ve reestablished contact with Xiao Tu and the others,” Mu Mianhong said. “Should we bring A’Le over?”

The court had publicly withdrawn its pursuit of Empress Chu’s relatives, but that didn’t mean the Xie clan would let the matter rest.

Though Chu Lan and the others hadn’t been arrested, they were still secretly monitored. After all, Empress Chu carried the crime of treason and was still at large.

Chu Zhao shook her head. “No, I’ll write her a letter and let her stay out there.”

Xiao Man couldn’t help but say, “She must be crying every day out there.”

“It’s fine. Once she knows I’m safe, she won’t cry anymore. I’ll write her a letter to tell her. Besides,” Chu Zhao said with a giggle, looking at Xiao Man, “I have Xiao Man here, and Mother with me. She doesn’t need to come keep me company—she’s more useful staying out there.”

Xiao Man pursed her lips. What use was that?

The truth was she knew the current situation wasn’t favorable and was afraid of causing trouble for everyone.

But it wasn’t just A’Le. Ding Dachui was still out there too. Aunt had said not to bring him back, to let him live a peaceful life from now on.

Xiao Man said nothing more and kept her head down eating.

After the meal, Chu Zhao and Mu Mianhong cleaned up together, letting Xiao Man rest. Then Mu Mianhong pulled Xiao Man aside, saying, “Aunt has something to tell you.”

Xiao Man glanced at Chu Zhao, somewhat awkwardly. “If Aunt has something to say, just say it.”

Though she felt the mother and daughter were overly affectionate together and was somewhat jealous, if Aunt felt she was being neglected and wanted to have a private word with her, she also felt it wasn’t necessary.

She and Aunt had been close for over ten years, while Chu Zhao had only been around for a few months.

Mu Mianhong smiled and put an arm around her shoulders. “Come along with Aunt quickly.” Then she whispered in her ear, “Zhong Changrong has been squatting outside for half the day. Let’s make room for him.”

Xiao Man snorted. “He comes to our place and still looks down on us—why should we accommodate him!”

Mu Mianhong laughed. “Come now, all visitors are guests. We should treat guests well.”

The two walked away chatting and laughing. Chu Zhao stood at the door watching them go, then looked toward the back of the house and saw Zhong Changrong squatting there wrapped in fur clothing.

“Uncle Zhong,” she called out happily. “Come quickly, I saved you some food.”

Zhong Changrong had arrived before her. This very house had been built under his personal supervision.

After the court declared Empress Chu guilty of treason and on the run, Zhong Changrong hadn’t been surrounded by soldiers like Chu Lan’s family. Out of concern for the prestige of the Chu clan, the court had only increased troops outside Yunzhong Commandery to prevent the border army from rioting.

But Zhong Changrong hadn’t had time to riot—he’d been directly carried off by his personal guards.

Xiao Shan had been the mastermind.

“The Empress is in trouble. You definitely won’t let this go, and the court won’t let you go either. To avoid conflict and trouble, Commander Zhong, you should lie low for a while,” he had said soothingly.

Zhong Changrong had been tied up securely after being plied with alcohol, cursing these scoundrels for betraying him.

“No, no, Commander Zhong, don’t you trust me?” Xiao Shan had pounded his chest and shouted. “I’ll guard the border army for you. At this time and place, I’m more suitable for this task than you, Commander. You’re not suitable.”

Zhong Changrong had angrily cursed: “Suitable my ass! What, you think you’ve latched onto the Xie family? You think you’re invincible now?”

Xiao Shan had corrected him: “I’ve latched onto A’Jiu, nothing to do with the Xie family.”

Wasn’t A’Jiu part of the Xie family? Zhong Changrong was about to curse when something occurred to him. “Did that A’Jiu boy tell you to do this?”

Though news of Xie Yanlai and Xiao Xun perishing together had spread throughout the realm, Chu Zhao had already told Zhong Changrong the truth. But how did Xiao Shan know?

Chu Zhao couldn’t have told Xiao Shan—it must have been A’Jiu!

But Xiao Shan wouldn’t say, maintaining an attitude of strict confidence and utmost obedience as he handed Zhong Changrong over to Mu Mianhong’s people—though Mu Mianhong hadn’t returned yet, her camp was also surrounded by soldiers.

Right after Zhong Changrong was taken away, news came that the border army had reported him as fleeing to avoid punishment. They’d selected a general to temporarily command the border forces while awaiting the court’s investigation and assignment of a new commander. The troops surrounding the border region then withdrew.

The border army then heavily fortified their defenses. On the surface, this was to guard against Zhong Changrong, but in reality they’d built a barrier to prevent discovery—Mu Mianhong’s troops could still conduct business as usual in Yunzhong Commandery, and as long as they came from this direction, even if they carried weapons, the garrison troops would pretend not to see.

Zhong Changrong suppressed his frustration and waited for Chu Zhao to return. After she came back, he devoted himself to watching over her recovery. It wasn’t until the depths of winter that she finally improved.

Zhong Changrong considered himself dependent on others—specifically on the deeply resented Mu Mianhong. He refused to interact with the people here, built himself a shed outside the village, raised a few sheep, and kept to himself.

Chu Zhao was both exasperated and amused.

“Uncle Zhong, you’re really being foolish. Don’t you realize? The nearly fifty thousand troops here—you gave them to Mu Mianhong,” she said. “This is clearly your territory. You’re the boss.”

Zhong Changrong held his rice bowl and ate several large mouthfuls, shaking his head. “A’Zhao, stop trying to comfort me.”

Chu Zhao laughed. “A few days ago I heard some people complaining to the Chief that there are no Xi Liang people around anymore, nowhere to raid, and they’re forgetting they’re mountain bandits and horse thieves. They were urging the Chief to go check out where the Xi Liang people have settled now, but the Chief rejected it, saying she’s stretched too thin.”

She winked at this point.

“Uncle Zhong, why don’t you lead some troops there?”

A glimmer of light flashed in Zhong Changrong’s eyes, but he shook his head. “I’m stretched too thin too. I should stay and guard you.”

Chu Zhao raised her arm and waved it at him. “I’m fine now. Look, I’m completely recovered.”

Zhong Changrong looked at her thin arm, his eyes full of affection.

“A’Zhao, don’t worry. I’m fine. These days are actually quite good,” he said, his expression resentful. “What’s so great about being Empress? These past years, fighting everywhere, protecting the country and the people—and what came of it? You became a thorn in others’ sides. Everyone watched you, schemed against you, harmed you. We’re done with this damned Empress position. Let them bite each other like dogs.”

Then he sighed.

“I understand A’Jiu’s intention. He built a barrier out there, making this place independent, free and easy, no longer troubled by all that nonsense.”

He snorted at this point.

“At least that A’Jiu boy has a conscience. Your kindness to him wasn’t wasted.”

Chu Zhao propped her chin on her hand, her eyes bright. “Uncle Zhong could tell I was good to him?”

“No one has been better to him than you!” Zhong Changrong said, his eyes wide. “I could see it from the first time I met him.”

The first time—when she still didn’t know he was Xie Yanlai. Chu Zhao smiled, then shook her head. “Actually, I haven’t been that good to him. After he met me, he became even more unlucky.”

In the past, Zhong Changrong would have argued back, but at this moment, he didn’t want to complain about that boy.

If that boy hadn’t discovered the situation in time and rushed to the capital with Mu Mianhong and the others, A’Zhao would likely have died at Xie Yanfang’s hands.

“If he’d never met you, he wouldn’t know what sweetness was. Not knowing sweetness means not knowing bitterness, but that doesn’t mean life wasn’t bitter,” he muttered.

If one could taste sweetness, even if life was bitter, the memories would still bring happiness.

Though he wouldn’t curse the boy, he didn’t want to discuss him further, lest A’Zhao become unhappy.

“This mutton stew is quite good,” he said, raising his bowl with his one arm. “A’Zhao, give me another bowl.”

Chu Zhao said, “Don’t eat too much. It’s late at night—be careful of indigestion.”

“I’m not that delicate,” Zhong Changrong retorted, then added enthusiastically, “The sheep I’m raising are excellent. When stewed, they’ll definitely taste even better than this.” Then he frowned. “But it would be a shame to stew them. They can already understand my commands and form military formations.”

Chu Zhao laughed heartily. “Then don’t eat them. Uncle Zhong, raise them well and let them charge into battle.”

……

……

Night fell. Zhong Changrong left, and Xiao Man hadn’t returned yet. Chu Zhao’s dwelling fell into silence.

She stood under the eaves, looking around. Houses scattered about, every household with lights glowing. Children playing late ran back and forth in the streets. It was no different from common villages inland. But looking farther out, she could see troops on patrol passing by. Even farther, the newly built watchtowers shone with lights, revealing that this was no ordinary village.

“Why are you standing outside in the cold wind this late at night?”

Deng Yi’s voice came from next door.

Chu Zhao turned to look at him and saw Deng Yi holding a book scroll in his hands.

“Teacher truly never puts down his books,” she said with a smile. “Be careful not to ruin your eyes so late at night.”

Deng Yi replied, “Miss A’Fu worries needlessly. To enable me to be a proper schoolteacher, the Chief has provided me with ample lamp oil—bright as daylight, could burn all night without going out.”

Chu Zhao raised an eyebrow. “Life’s treating you well, isn’t it?祝Second, you’re in a good mood, aren’t you?”

Deng Yi gave a cold laugh. “I’m different from you. I came here as a prisoner. Do you know what a prisoner’s state of mind is like?”

Chu Zhao smiled. “A prisoner’s state of mind? I actually do know.”

She looked toward the night.

In that life, she’d been imprisoned in the Imperial City, living a fate worse than death.

In this life, A’Jiu was imprisoned there.

She took a deep breath and stepped forward.

“What are you doing?” Deng Yi frowned. “Don’t wander around so late at night.”

Chu Zhao replied, “I won’t wander. I’ll just walk around the house.” She gestured in a circle with her hand.

Deng Yi didn’t understand. “Walk around the house for what?”

Chu Zhao had already started walking. She looked back with a smile. “Exercise.”

Exercise? Deng Yi watched her. Chu Zhao had already turned her head, wrapped in her cloak, walking slowly, step by faltering step, frail and weak.

Frail. Deng Yi’s lips twitched. He had just seen it—the light dancing in the girl’s eyes, full of killing intent.