At Chang’an’s Vermillion Bird Gate, crowds of people streamed in and out through the city gates. Men and women, young and old, scholars, farmers, craftsmen, and merchants flowed endlessly.

Di Cui followed the crowd, keeping her head down as she hurriedly left through the city gate. Just as she passed through, horsemen galloped up from behind, someone shouting: “Gate guards, attention! Official orders to search for a young woman named Di Cui, about five feet two inches tall, wearing light green upper garments and a skirt. If found, bring her immediately to the Court of Judicial Review!”

The guards quickly acknowledged, and someone asked, “What crime has she committed to warrant being sent to the Court?”

Di Cui lifted her skirt hem and hurried forward, hoping to lose herself in the crowd without being discovered.

The mounted messenger replied, “Court of Judicial Review? This is His Majesty’s decree! They say her father was involved in Princess Tongchang’s death. His Majesty wants their entire family executed!”

Someone foolishly asked, “Does this mean since His Majesty lost his daughter, he won’t let the murderer’s daughter live either?”

“Are you seeking death? How dare you speak such words?” someone nearby hissed quietly.

That person shrank back, not daring to speak further.

Di Cui stood among the crowd, listening to the surrounding discussions, thinking bewilderedly and anxiously about her father.

That man who had always resented having a daughter had told her when she was very young, “What use is a little girl like you? You’ll eventually follow some man away, and your father will still end up living alone.”

When she would come home crying after being bullied by other children, he would say with disgust, “Women are useless, not even daring to fight back.” But a few days later, those children would no longer dare to bully her when they saw her. To this day, she still didn’t know what had happened.

She had no mother and had stood on stools since childhood to cook for her father and herself. He ate every day but never said it was good. One day when she went to burn incense with her female friends, she returned to find him ignoring the cakes that Mrs. Wu next door had sent. He said he wasn’t used to them.

He had wanted a son, and she was the burden he didn’t want. But over these many years, compared to her female friends, she never lacked clothes, food, or ornaments. He always said that daughters should be dressed well to fetch a better bride price when married, but sometimes she thought that these dozen years of hardship could never really be repaid.

Her father, rough-tempered and stubborn, never knew how to speak a gentle word or do a gentle thing in his life, much less how to create a warm home.

She grew up this way, sometimes grieving over not having a mother, and envying others who had doting fathers. Besides inheriting his stubbornness, she had nothing else.

After her troubles began, he constantly tried to drive her away. No matter how much she begged, he still drove her out.

However, when Yang Chonggu whispered the word “escape” in her ear, she seemed to hear, almost like an illusion, her father’s word “go” when he threw her a rope and forced her from home.

That word which had made her wish for death, made her want to die right there in front of him – now thinking of it brought tears streaming from her eyes that she could no longer control.

She suddenly thought that perhaps at that time, her father had already decided to let her flee far away, while he would avenge all hatred for her and kill all those who had harmed his daughter.

She walked forward in the sunlight, crying and bewildered.

Not knowing where the future lay, not knowing if she could reunite with her love, not knowing what would become of her father.

Commotion came from behind, and she saw a squad of city gate guards pursuing her through the crowd. The leader shouted, “You, the one in green, stop!”

She knew she had been discovered. Ahead lay vast wilderness, and behind were pursuers. Where could she go alone?

Heaven and earth seemed to spin, all hope turned to ash.

Di Cui stopped and slowly turned to face them.

“What’s your name?” they demanded.

Tears still wet on her face, Di Cui looked at them fearfully, not daring to speak.

“Whatever her name is, a seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl in green traveling alone – take her back first and sort it out later!”

The guards crowded forward, reaching to grab her.

Di Cui closed her eyes, feeling only endless desolation and sorrow washing over her in darkness.

Just as the guards grabbed her arms, suddenly a clear, gentle voice came: “You’ve got the wrong person.”

Everyone looked toward the voice to see an elegant youth like a tall bamboo or flourishing orchid, mounted on a yellow horse. He wore narrow-sleeved robes of sky blue, the most ordinary clothes, and a horse, yet when people saw him, the world seemed to become especially vibrant, like the rising dawn.

Di Cui’s lips moved involuntarily.

It was him…

Though they had met only once, who could forget such an outstanding person? Moreover, he was the Zhang Xingying family’s benefactor – the kind person who had carried A-Bao and searched through Chang’an’s wards for two days, finally finding the child in the vast sea of people and returning him home.

The lead guard recognized him too and quickly cupped his hands in greeting: “Isn’t this Academic Yu? You know this woman?”

A guard nearby whispered, “Who is this Academic Yu?”

“You weren’t here last time? This is Academic Yu Xuan from the Imperial Academy, who went on a spring outing with Noble Consort Guo and Princess Tongchang! When we stopped their carriage for inspection, if Academic Yu hadn’t spoken up for us, once Noble Consort Guo and Princess Tongchang got angry, our whole gate guard would have been in trouble!”

“Oh! Yu Xuan, I’ve heard of him…”

The leader gave him a stern look, cutting off the impending gossip, and maintained a normal expression as he saluted Yu Xuan.

Yu Xuan also dismounted and returned the greeting, saying, “I know this lady, she’s a maid from the Princess’s household. Now that the Princess has passed away, she’s merely being sent away from the household.”

He turned to Di Cui and asked, “Though your home is in the suburbs, it’s still some distance. How is it that no one is escorting you?”

Di Cui looked into his clear eyes and suddenly understood – he was trying to save her.

She found courage from somewhere and stammered, “Y-yes… now that the Princess… the Princess is gone, the household is in chaos, who would there be to escort me?”

“I’m going your way, let me accompany you for a while,” he said, bowing to the guards in farewell and gesturing for her to mount.

The leader hesitated: “Academic Yu, this…”

“What’s wrong, Captain Cha? Are you worried about my walking and want to lend me a horse?” Yu Xuan smiled. “But I’m returning to Yizhou this time, so I wouldn’t be able to return it.”

His smile was clear and transparent, so pure it made others feel ashamed. The lead guard suddenly felt his suspicions were inappropriate and quickly laughed it off: “Academic Yu’s close association with the Princess’s household… well, of course what you say must be absolutely right. But lending a horse won’t do – all horses have the Military Horse Bureau’s brand. Even if I dared lend one, Academic Yu wouldn’t dare ride it, haha!”

Yu Xuan smiled and patted his horse’s neck, saying, “In that case, I’ll take my leave.”

Di Cui mounted in a daze, and only after they had gone about a li with no sign of the guards did she feel her clothes soaked with cold sweat.

They stopped at a ferry crossing where several people were loading cargo onto a boat. Yu Xuan held the horse and asked, “What are your plans for the future?”

She stared blankly and shook her head silently.

He gestured for her to dismount, took out two strings of cash and a set of clothes from his pack, and said, “Make do with these clothes for now, but you can’t keep wearing this green outfit. I’m not carrying much money, so I’ll give you half. If you stay with me, it will be easy for officials to find you. Better to take this boat and go wherever you can.”

She hesitated, seeing him holding out the items with both hands before her, and could only accept them, saying softly, “Thank you… benefactor.”

He said no more, packed up his belongings, mounted his horse, and said, “Be careful on your journey. Farewell.”

She stood at the ferry dock holding the items, watching him leave without looking back, and finally couldn’t help calling out: “Benefactor, I want to know… why did you save me?”

He stopped his horse and looked back at her. Those clear, bright eyes showed a faint trace of worry and distraction passing through.

But he ultimately concealed all his concerns, showing only a slight smile as he said, “I once saw you at the Court of Judicial Review’s gate, holding A-Bao so gently and carefully. I thought, such a woman surely cannot be a bad person. I hope that someday, you can hold your child the same way and live on well.”

She stared up at him, her throat tight with emotion: “But I… I don’t know if I can ever have such a day…”

“You will. Heaven won’t shortchange good people.”

With those words, he nodded gently to her and turned his horse away.

She watched him leave, holding back tears as she put on his clothes in the bamboo grove and boarded the boat.

The boatman was urging passengers to board, merchants sprawled awkwardly holding their goods on deck, and a kind-faced old woman warmly invited her to sit nearby.

The fully loaded boat sat deep in the water, swaying as it made its way forward through the reed beds.

Yu Xuan’s clothes were much too big; Di Cui barely managed to gather the sleeves and hem as she sat in the cabin, resting her head against the bamboo-woven window.

The boat moved across the water, its surface like slightly trembling smooth silk. Di Cui stared blankly at the water, thinking over and over about those important people and important things.

But regardless, those who had harmed her had been punished, and the dark clouds that had covered her were gradually dispersing. She thought that she must live on, live on well.

For Zhang Er-ge, and for her father.

Like every ordinary woman, one day she would reunite with her love, hold the child born of their love, and live quietly and composedly in the sunlight, forgetting all the sorrows that had once eaten away at her.