Hua Zhi turned several thoughts over in her mind. “After Zeng Xianglin returned, did he never say anything?”
Yu Weiwei thought for a moment, then shook her head. “This was not something I had particular reason to keep in mind. As far as I can recall, no — nor did I ever hear anything of the sort from my mother.”
So after enduring such a great upheaval, Zeng Xianglin had borne it alone, without a word. He had no one to share it with, no one who could help him. Perhaps, then, it was not entirely impossible to understand how he had turned dark. When the whole world a person inhabits goes black, what reason does he have to remain the white one?
Yet the Hua Family’s hundred-odd souls bore no fault in any of it.
Thinking of the devastation that had befallen the Yu Family, and looking at Yu Weiwei before her now, struggling to maintain a brave front, Hua Zhi let out a quiet sigh. She drew the cloak around herself and said, “I need to go to the Zeng Family shortly. Do you have anything you wish to ask them?”
Yu Weiwei was silent for a moment. “I want to know whether Great Aunt and Uncle knew what Zeng Xianglin did to the Yu Family.”
“Very well.” Hua Zhi squeezed her hand and turned to leave.
Yu Weiwei followed her out the door, walking her to the courtyard, and was just about to bid her farewell when she saw Hua Zhi suddenly spin around and shove Bao Xia hard backwards. Caught off guard, Bao Xia stumbled into her, and the force sent both of them staggering several steps back. Yu Weiwei tripped on the walkway steps and fell to the ground, and an instant later Bao Xia fell on top of her — it was painful. But as she looked up at the tall, imposing man who seemed to have descended from the sky, she bit back her cry.
Hua Zhi had not expected there would be a fish that had slipped the net. After shoving Bao Xia away, she rolled sideways across the ground and narrowly, ungracefully avoided the man’s fist. At the same time she shrugged off the overly long cloak and flung it toward where Bao Xia had landed — even at a moment like this, she did not want Yanxi’s cloak to get dirty.
There was no way to see whether the cloak was picked up. As the man pressed in on her, she drew her dagger and struck. He was forced to rein in his assault, and she bought herself a moment to breathe.
But the man clearly had no intention of letting her collect herself before attacking again.
Hua Zhi bent low to dodge, thrusting the dagger toward his fist as he swung. He veered away; she advanced again, shifting from defense to offense.
The Chaoli tribespeople excelled at wielding long blades on horseback — in open battle, this had once been the Great Qing’s nightmare. In their daily dealings, however, they preferred their fists. That raw, flesh-meeting-flesh impact was something that stirred them.
Hua Zhi knew she was no match for him. Her other hand had already found the medicinal powder. As the man drove her back once more in a relentless barrage, she planted her feet and took his blow head-on. At the same moment she flung her hand out, sending the powder billowing over his face and head.
Her left shoulder blazed with pain as though the bone itself had shattered. Hua Zhi clamped her jaw shut and seized the opening to counterattack. The poison was fierce in its action — even a man of the Chaoli tribe’s constitution found his head swimming. The dagger came at him head-on, and though he knew he needed to dodge, his body would not respond in time — yet the pain had no such delay.
The first strike landed. Hua Zhi gripped the dagger, gave it a twist, and wrenched it free — blood immediately gushed forth in a torrent. Before his fist could reach her she stepped aside. She drove the dagger into his throat. The Chaoli tribesman moved too — he kicked out at Hua Zhi, sending her flying violently backwards. At that very instant, Bao Xia — who had somehow crept behind the man without anyone noticing — clasped her dagger with both hands and drove it down with all her strength into the back of the man’s neck.
Like a beast, the man roared at the sky in fury and wheeled around, landing a punch that sent Bao Xia flying a great distance. But Bao Xia had been clever — the moment she had driven the dagger in, she had used every ounce of her strength to wrench it back out. She flew through the air without loosening her grip. She could not leave the dagger with the enemy, could not give him a weapon to use against her mistress.
Then Hua Zhi’s attack arrived. She seized the dagger Yanxi had made expressly for her, brought it to bear on the back of the man’s neck, and drew it across in one powerful stroke. The man’s head immediately drooped — not in evasion, but because the entire back of his neck had been cut deep. Head and the rear of his neck were completely severed. Blood came spurting out. The man turned slowly, his head shifting yet unable to lift. Hua Zhi was swift to press her advantage. She plunged the dagger into the man’s chest, gave it a forceful twist, then yanked it free and rolled aside in a single motion, putting distance between herself and him.
Hua Zhi breathed in rapid, urgent gasps, bowing her body into a stance that allowed for both attack and defense.
A great surge of blood flowed from the wound in the man’s chest. He lumbered forward two steps. His mountain-like frame finally pitched face-first to the ground.
Hua Zhi looked over toward Bao Xia. Seeing that Yu Weiwei had already helped her into a sitting position, she released the tension she had been holding and sat down heavily where she was, breathing hard.
She had thought this time she might escape uninjured. As it turned out, there had been no avoiding it. Even so, at least there was no bleeding, Hua Zhi reflected wryly — she likely had the disaster-prone constitution of someone with Conan permanently attached to her.
Yu Weiwei helped Bao Xia over. “Miss, are you all right?”
“It hurts.” Hua Zhi felt along the bone with her fingers to check whether anything had broken, and asked at the same time, “And you?”
“This servant is fine.” Bao Xia smiled despite having just spat up a mouthful of blood. Being able to help her mistress even a little — that was wonderful. Every time, she was the one being protected by her mistress, while her mistress took the injuries and she walked away unscathed. That feeling was truly wretched.
Yu Weiwei looked at the two of them with an expression difficult to name, then rose to her feet. “I will go and fetch a physician.”
“The whole city is under lockdown. Where would you go to find one? The bone should not be broken — it hurts, but it should not be serious.” Hua Zhi kept her left arm hanging limp, propped the dagger against the ground with her right, and pushed herself upright using it for leverage. Yu Weiwei and Bao Xia hurried to help support her on either side.
Hua Zhi looked over at Bao Xia. “Can you still hold on?”
Every part of her body was in pain. Yet Bao Xia nodded firmly. “This servant can hold on.”
Hua Zhi had meant to leave her here at the Yu Family, but hearing this, she let the matter rest. “Then let us go. To the Zeng Family.”
“Understood.”
Yu Weiwei watched Hua Zhi’s arm hanging rigid and still, and the blood still on the corner of Bao Xia’s lips. The air that had drained out of her, little by little, began to flow back into her body. They were all women — and even the eldest daughter’s maidservant was this capable. There was no reason she should be any less than a maidservant.
She watched the mistress and her attendant leave the courtyard, then turned and went back inside. She had a great deal to do.
The two of them left the Yu Family and found the carriage still waiting where it had been.
“Fortunately this servant knows how to drive a carriage.” Bao Xia smiled and helped her mistress up, then settled herself on the driver’s bench and cracked the whip at the air. “Hyah.”
The carriage began to move at a gentle trot. In a place Hua Zhi could not see, Bao Xia quietly rubbed the spot where she had been hurt, which ached terribly. She bit down hard on her lip and did not make a sound. When her mistress had endured that heavy wound to the blade, she had managed to hold on — what were these injuries of hers in comparison?
“Bao Xia.”
“Yes, Miss.” Bao Xia quickly composed her expression and turned her head, and saw in her mistress’s outstretched palm a small pill.
“Swallow it.”
“…Understood.”
Hua Zhi retreated back into the carriage, opened her front collar, and pulled the layers of fabric on her left side down to examine her shoulder. The entire shoulder was a mass of deep bruising.
She rummaged through a collection of medicine packets, selected one, read the characters on it carefully, opened it, and poured the powder into the palm of her right hand. Then she pressed it against her left shoulder and worked it in with firm, circular strokes. Shao Yao had said this particular powder was highly effective, but it needed to be rubbed into the skin. Bao Xia was likely hurt with some severity as well — she would need to come in and apply some too, once they arrived.
Thinking of Shao Yao brought Yanxi to her mind, and worry crept in despite herself. Hua Jingyan had left behind many works of calligraphy, and among them were detailed accounts of the great battles fought against the Chaoli tribe. She had a very vivid understanding of the Chaoli tribe’s ferocity — and the soldiers of the Great Qing today were far diminished from what they had been in the dynasty’s founding era.