“You’ve hurt your arm — why don’t I help you apply the medicine?” Shen Zhuxi offered kindly.
By her reckoning, they were women of similar age, and there was nothing awkward about helping one another with medicine. But Xiao Hu was firm and refused the suggestion twice over.
Shen Zhuxi didn’t press the matter. She left the ointment with Xiao Hu and stepped out of the carriage cab.
“Sister-in-law, why are you out here?” Li Que’er glanced toward the carriage door as he sat beside it.
“Xiao Hu is treating her wounds inside. She says she’s a herb-gatherer, so she knows how to handle basic injuries.”
“Xiao Hu?”
“Her name,” Shen Zhuxi explained.
Li Que’er’s lips curved upward in an amused almost-smile.
Li Kun was up ahead clearing the road. The landslide’s debris was already about seven or eight parts cleared, and Shen Zhuxi followed Li Que’er’s earlier line of sight to the spot on the slope where the earth had given way. He appeared to still be studying it.
“Did you notice something?” she asked.
“The road elsewhere along the way was fine — no other landslides. So why did one happen right here, right when we were passing through?”
Shen Zhuxi had no answer for that.
There are many coincidences in the world. Half are true coincidences, and the other half are premeditated ones dressed as coincidences. And in the moment a coincidence unfolds, no one can tell whether what they have encountered is a genuine coincidence or a scheme wearing coincidence as a disguise.
She was a princess. Her birth father was the most exalted man in the realm. Since the day she was born, she had witnessed far too many premeditated coincidences.
To avoid being overheard by Xiao Hu inside the carriage, she mouthed silently at Li Que’er: “But what reason would she have for doing this?”
If Xiao Hu had truly come prepared, the thing Shen Zhuxi found hardest to understand was: why had she wounded her face as well, when the arm injury alone would have been enough?
For almost every woman alive today, one’s appearance was more precious than life itself — second only to one’s virtue and purity.
Xiao Hu’s arrival was indeed suspicious beyond measure, and yet the wounds on her face made it very difficult for Shen Zhuxi to believe this had been her deliberate and willing design.
And besides — she could not harden her heart enough to simply abandon a wounded girl of fifteen or sixteen, of unknown background, in the middle of the wilderness.
While they stood in silence, Li Kun straightened up and walked back: “The path’s clear… took a lot of effort, and now Diao’er wants a steamed bun…”
Li Kun started making his way up the carriage, eyes fixed on a bag of steamed buns inside.
Shen Zhuxi quickly blocked him: “Not now!”
“Why?” Li Kun pouted.
“Xiao Hu is inside treating her injuries. You have to wait until she’s done before you can go in.”
“Why?” Li Kun raised his voice unhappily. “It’s our carriage!”
Shen Zhuxi was just about to soothe him when the carriage door was pushed open from the inside. Xiao Hu poked her head out, swept a glance over all of them, and said: “You can come in now.”
Xiao Hu was a full head shorter than Shen Zhuxi, and Shen Zhuxi’s clothes on her hung loose and ill-fitting — clearly too large for her. With her slim frame and angular features, were it not for the slight curve of her chest, Shen Zhuxi might well have mistaken her for a young man who had gotten into the wrong clothes.
When Shen Zhuxi stepped into the carriage cab, the first thing she saw was the blood-stained cloth skirt left on the floor.
“Is your injury serious?” Shen Zhuxi asked.
“Not enough to die from.” Xiao Hu said simply. She glanced at Li Que’er seated outside and raised her voice. “Are you still going forward?”
“Do you have any counsel for us?” Li Que’er said, pulling up one corner of his mouth.
“If you keep going forward, you’ll be entering Dinghai Stronghold’s territory.” Xiao Hu said.
“What is Dinghai Stronghold?” Shen Zhuxi asked.
“A place that has done every evil you can name — robbery, arson, murder,” Xiao Hu said. “If you can think of a wicked deed, they’ve done it.”
“You want us to change course?”
“If you’re heading to Bozhou, turn back and take the main road. If you’re heading to Yuzhou, detour through Bo County — taking the Guangzhou road will do just as well. Where exactly are you all going?”
Li Kun burrowed into the carriage cab and found his steamed buns, settling in to munch.
Li Que’er flicked the reins lightly against the horse’s hindquarters and said without turning around: “We just need to get out of Yingzhou.”
“Either the main road or Bo County will get you out of Yingzhou!” Xiao Hu’s expression changed sharply when she saw him drive the carriage straight ahead regardless. “Did you not hear me? Ahead is Dinghai Stronghold’s territory!”
“I heard you.” Li Que’er glanced at her with mild composure and said quietly: “How do you propose to prove that what you’re saying is true?”
Xiao Hu was taken aback for a moment.
“How do you want me to prove it? Am I supposed to go catch you a Dinghai Stronghold bandit from up ahead and show you, before you’ll believe me?”
“Not necessarily.” Li Que’er said calmly. “But it would be more convincing than believing you right now.”
“You—” Xiao Hu’s face darkened with irritation. “Fine, do as you like. You’re rushing to your death — just don’t blame me for not warning you!”
Xiao Hu leaned back and crossed her arms in silence.
Shen Zhuxi studied the girl’s expression — she did not look as though she was lying. She glanced at Li Que’er outside the carriage and ventured carefully: “Maybe… we should just change course?”
“Sister-in-law, we’ve passed through several villages along this road and stopped to resupply — and not once did anyone mention a Dinghai Stronghold,” Li Que’er said.
Xiao Hu shot him a sidelong glance. “And why would they tell you there are Dinghai Stronghold bandits up ahead? So the bandits could come after them when you were gone?”
“There are so many people in a village. They’d have no way of finding out who told us.”
“They don’t need to find out. They’d just massacre the entire village.” Xiao Hu said with a cold laugh. “You’re just passing through — once you leave, it’s none of your concern anymore. Those villagers who have lived there for generations have no ties to you whatsoever. Why would they take such a risk on your behalf?”
“Neither do you have any ties to us,” Li Que’er said. “So why should I believe your words with no proof to back them?”
“…Do as you please.” Xiao Hu said.
She turned her eyes away and met Shen Zhuxi’s complex expression.
“Xiao Hu, you…” Shen Zhuxi looked at the way she sat in her skirt — legs splayed wide open without a care.
Xiao Hu gave an uncomfortable cough. She sat up straight on the bench, and her wide-open legs came together properly.
“My legs are injured. It hurts to keep them together.” Xiao Hu said by way of explanation.
Shen Zhuxi was not entirely convinced. That had clearly been the movement of someone acting from pure habit. A herb-gathering girl, however lacking in ladylike instruction she might be, would still not sit with her legs spread wide open like a man, would she?
She found herself glancing at Xiao Hu’s throat again, searching for even the faintest trace of an Adam’s apple. There was none.
Were it not for that, she might not have been able to stop herself from wondering if Xiao Hu was a man disguised as a woman.
“What are those herbs in your basket?” Shen Zhuxi asked, feigning casual curiosity.
“Bitter gall herb and blister azalea — nothing valuable,” Xiao Hu said. “I was originally hoping to dig up some ginseng to help with household expenses. Didn’t find any.”
“What is bitter gall herb used for?” Li Que’er asked suddenly.
He was not like Li Kun, who sat exposing his back to others with no guard whatsoever. He leaned against the open carriage door, sitting at an angle to Xiao Hu inside.
“Clearing heat and detoxifying — cures excessive suspicion—” Xiao Hu said with ill-tempered sharpness. “I’d say you’re exactly the type who should boil some and drink it.”
“Better to be overly suspicious than to regret it only after losing your head.” Li Que’er said with cold humor.
The air between the two of them crackled with tension. Shen Zhuxi quickly jumped in to smooth things over.
“Let’s both say a bit less — Que’er needs to concentrate on driving, and Xiao Hu needs peace and quiet to heal. These mountains are vast; even if there are bandits, it doesn’t mean we’ll necessarily run into them.”
Xiao Hu picked up the dagger Li Que’er had left on the bench and, quite openly and without any embarrassment, tucked it into her own breast pocket right in front of Shen Zhuxi.
“It’s not a matter of ‘not necessarily’ — it’s a matter of ‘certainly.'” Xiao Hu said with absolute certainty. “Wait and see. By the time the sun sets at the latest, you’ll find out that what I said is true.”
Shen Zhuxi gave Li Que’er a wavering look. He remained impassive, without the slightest intention of turning back or changing course. Shen Zhuxi had no choice but to swallow her unease and continue riding forward.
As if deliberately proving Xiao Hu wrong, beyond the landslide from before, the party encountered not a single further mishap.
As the sun slowly merged with the horizon, the dense forest on either side of the mountain road remained quiet and undisturbed.
Never mind bandits — not even a groundhog had shown itself.
Shen Zhuxi was just beginning to breathe a sigh of relief, about to say something, when Xiao Hu shoved her back into the carriage and moved herself to the door.
“Something’s wrong.” Xiao Hu’s eyes swept the quiet forest on both sides of the carriage with swift alertness.
“Too quiet,” Li Que’er murmured.
His expression was even graver than Xiao Hu’s.
“Is it?” Li Kun, sitting nearby, dug a finger in his ear. “When are we stopping to eat?”
“Big one, put your head down,” Xiao Hu said, looking at Li Kun’s massive frame, which was blocking most of her view, with open displeasure.
“I am not the big one!” Li Kun took offense at that too, turning to shoot Xiao Hu a glare.
“Never mind, I don’t have time to argue with you.” Xiao Hu turned to look at Li Que’er. “Want it?”
She held out the dagger she had pocketed earlier.
Li Que’er looked at it and said: “You keep it. Protect my sister-in-law.”
Xiao Hu said in displeasure: “I’m a woman too!”
Li Que’er gave her a cold glance. “…Not very obviously.”
“How is your mouth so venomous?!” Xiao Hu cried, thrusting her chest out. “Not obvious where?!”
“Nowhere in particular.” Li Que’er looked at Shen Zhuxi and said: “Sister-in-law, if things go badly in a moment, don’t worry about us. We’ll rendezvous in Yao County—”
“Yao County is also Dinghai Stronghold’s territory,” Xiao Hu said.
“…We’ll rendezvous in Jiao County.” Li Que’er changed the meeting place without so much as a flicker of embarrassment.
Xiao Hu rolled her eyes, and she made sure it was loud enough to be noticed.
“Alright — I’ll take good care of myself… and of Xiao Hu.” Shen Zhuxi knew that staying behind would only be a burden, and she gave a solemn nod. “You both need to take good care of yourselves as well.”
“Keep a close watch on whoever is beside you. Don’t get sold out and end up helping the person count the money.” Li Que’er said.
“Who are you talking about?!” Xiao Hu cried.
“Nobody asked you to take it personally.” Li Que’er said.
Before Shen Zhuxi could step in to stop the bickering, a sharp whistle pierced the air from within the forest.
“Hold on!”
Li Que’er brought the whip down hard on the horse’s hindquarters.
“Hah!”
That single lash drew blood. The pain summoned forth speed the old horse hadn’t known since its youth. Shen Zhuxi was thrown against the carriage wall, watching through the window as the scenery outside rushed backward in a blur.
Flashing past the window were the shapes of many bandits armed with bows and arrows.
“Whoosh—”
“Whoosh—”
A rapid clattering of sounds rang out one after another. Shen Zhuxi, white-faced, lunged toward the window and forced the rattling shutters closed with all her strength.
An arrow punctured the white paper covering the carriage window and buried itself with a thud into the opposite wall.
“Sister-in-law, watch out!” Li Que’er called.
Something landed on Shen Zhuxi. She looked up — Xiao Hu had tossed a soft cushion over to her.
“Get down! If the carriage wall gets breached, use this to shield your chest!” Xiao Hu said urgently.
Shen Zhuxi immediately did as she was told.
“Stop the carriage! Get out if you don’t want to die!”
From all directions came the threatening shouts of bandits. Li Que’er dodged an arrow aimed straight at his forehead, raised his crossbow, and loosed a bolt — followed by a cry of pain from the left side of the carriage.
“Bang!”
The carriage window was smashed open from the outside. A fierce, menacing bandit was hanging from the side of the carriage, trying to haul himself inside.
Shen Zhuxi let out a scream of fright.
Xiao Hu had just drawn her dagger and was rushing to help when she saw the delicate-looking woman screaming her head off while simultaneously smashing the man over the head with the teapot in her hand.
“Get away from here!”
Shen Zhuxi brought the teapot down again and again — shattering it, and sending the bandit, his face a mask of blood, tumbling off the carriage.
She took a breath and pressed a hand to her heart with a lingering expression of shock.
“That frightened me half to death…”
Xiao Hu regarded that last remark with a measure of doubt: whether she herself had been frightened half to death was quite evident; whether the man who had fallen from the carriage with a shattered, bloodied skull was fully to death — that was a question worth pondering.