Chapter 27: The Little Princess of the Jiang Dynasty

The Grand Preceptor had left in a hurry, never formally accepting Jiang Jiu as his disciple. Following protocol, King Jiang forcibly bestowed upon Jiang Jiu the title of the Grand Preceptor’s chief disciple, much to Jiang Jiu’s helpless amusement. It seemed no one knew that the Grand Preceptor had secretly arranged to meet her at his residence.

In truth, neither King Jiang nor the Queen could discern what kind of talent Jiang Jiu possessed. They could only sense a profound change about her; merely standing by her side brought an exceptional sense of ease, as if all impurities in the air around them were cleansed.

After the banquet dispersed, Jiang Jiu sought out King Jiang and managed to obtain two more boxes of Jade Dew Cakes that Shen Yueru had given her.

Shen Zhao had been acting suspiciously of late, and to prevent Shen Yueru from being used, Jiang Jiu had to take these precautions. Otherwise, should Shen Yueru err, Jiang Jiu might not be able to protect her.

[Master, I noticed Shen Yueru didn’t look quite right today. She seemed rather down...]

“If your savior suddenly abandoned you, would you be happy?”

[Um… I don’t know…]

Jiang Jiu’s lips twitched. To Shen Yueru, she was like a little sun, a source of warmth. Her words today were bound to hurt, but she had no choice. At first, she had only hoped to coax some information from Shen Yueru, but now things had changed. She realized that Shen Yueru harbored little ambition for power; instead, she cherished having someone to talk to, someone who appreciated her culinary talents.

Shen Yueru had exposed Shen Zhao’s whereabouts, and Jiang Jiu understood—this was her way of repaying Jiang Jiu for having once pushed her into the water. Even the heavens could not accuse Shen Yueru of murder now, as her merits and faults balanced out. Yet, it was the real Jiang Jiu who suffered.

At the Shen residence, the indigo night draped the sky, and Shen Yueru’s courtyard was especially silent.

“My lady, your hand…”

Shen Yueru unwrapped her scarf. The innermost layer was soaked crimson with blood; the wound upon the back of her hand was grotesque, like a centipede sprawled across her skin.

Her expression remained impassive. She had endured the pain to beg her father to let her attend the birthday feast. Though Jiang Jiu no longer favored her, it didn’t matter; she didn’t mind.

All her servants had been dismissed from her courtyard, save for one—Little Cui.

She never expected that, in the end, only Little Cui would stay.

“My lady, how could the master be so cruel? No matter what, you’re still his own flesh and blood!”

Little Cui cradled her hand, gently blowing cool air over the wound. Numb all day, the injury finally began to ache.

“Flesh and blood… In the end, I’m nothing more than a chess piece that’s grown a heart. And when the piece disobeys… it deserves to be punished…”

“My lady! Why don’t we run away? We could escape the capital! Even if I have to beg for food, it’s better than seeing you suffer here!”

Shen Yueru gave a wan, sorrowful smile.

“But after all, he is still my father…”

With her uninjured hand, she covered Little Cui’s trembling fingers.

“Little Cui, do you still listen to me?”

Little Cui nodded fervently.

“When you leave, find a good family, live well, and if you can, never come back to this city…”

Little Cui froze, tears welling in her eyes.

“My lady, my lady! You don’t want me anymore? Did I do something wrong? Please, don’t abandon me!”

Footsteps approached outside: one step, then another, crossing the courtyard, nearing the main house.

“Little Cui, promise me—live well, and never return to the capital.”

Mouthing the words silently, Shen Yueru gave her instructions. Then she picked up a scrap of gauze and pressed it harshly to her wound.

Little Cui shook her head and wept, her hair damp with tears.

A steely resolve flashed in Shen Yueru’s eyes. She smashed a cup to the ground, the sharp crack of porcelain breaking the silence.

“Insolent! However fallen I may be, I am not someone a lowly maid can bully. To dare use gauze to harm me! Get out! Out of the capital!”

“My lady, my lady, I won’t leave! I was wrong… mmm—”

Shen Yueru struck the side of Little Cui’s neck, rendering her silent. Tearful and sobbing, Little Cui could only whimper as something was pressed into her chest—a stack of silver notes and a pearl hairpin.

It was Shen Yueru’s parting dowry for her. Little Cui had once said that when she married, she wanted her mistress to prepare her dowry herself. Shen Yueru had never broken her word; though it was only a single hairpin, the silver notes were real. Once outside the city, Little Cui need not suffer poverty.

Shen Zhao entered, standing in the doorway, his face darker than the night outside.

Shen Yueru greeted her father, then fell silent. Little Cui, kneeling at her side, wept inconsolably.

Shen Zhao gave a signal; two black-clad guards burst in, dragging Little Cui across the floor to await orders.

“Take her outside the city, cut out her tongue, and leave her to fend for herself.”

Shen Zhao’s words fell like thunder upon all present.

Shen Yueru bit through her tongue, blood trickling down her throat, the taste of iron filling her mouth. She could not weep; she had to endure. Living was better than dying—so long as one lived, there was still hope.

Now, only father and daughter remained.

Blood still dripped from Shen Yueru’s hand as Shen Zhao stood before her, silent.

“You truly have disappointed me…”

Those words seemed to ignite something in Shen Yueru.

“Disappointed? All my life, I have struggled to be your pride, forced myself to study music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, all things I never loved. You never let me touch what I truly liked. Father, I must ask—are you really my father?”

Shen Zhao twisted the ring on his thumb, the jade glinting in candlelight.

“Father, you grow ever more unfathomable. Power, wealth—perhaps those are your true children.”

Shen Zhao narrowed his eyes, gripping Shen Yueru’s chin. “Daughter? You think I don’t know you’ve ruined my plans?”

He released her, his gaze growing strange. “Useless, just like your mother…”

“What right do you have to mention her? Once, perhaps, but now—you are not worthy!”

A sharp slap resounded. The mark on Shen Yueru’s face was proof of his force.

“Lock her up. Without my command, do not let her out!”

With a furious sweep of his sleeves, Shen Zhao stormed away.

Shen Yueru gently touched her burning cheek. “Mother, was this why you left him too…”

One by one, clear tears fell from the corners of her eyes into her hand, sorrow beyond words.

After leaving Shen Yueru’s courtyard, Shen Zhao made his way straight to the secret underground chamber.

“The Chancellor is truly ruthless—enough to earn my respect,” someone said.

Shen Zhao brushed dust from his robe. “How goes the plan?”

“All proceeds as expected.”

The candlelight flickered in the basement, casting two shadows upon the ground.

The night stretched on, endlessly.