Chapter 4: Branding

Chapter 4: The Branded Mark

By the time Qiao Wan returned to the princess's estate, dusk had already settled.

The early winter night carried a chill. Along the path leading to the inner courtyard, stone lanterns cast a soft, 황색 glow.

Qiao Wan instructed Yicui to prepare the warm chamber, then led Mu Chi directly to her own bedchamber.

The bedchamber was equally opulent, with sandalwood beams and golden candlesticks illuminating the room as brightly as day. The curtains were strung with perfectly round pearls, and the drapes, woven from the finest silk, were embroidered with golden phoenixes.

The moment she stepped inside, a rush of heat enveloped her, making Qiao Wan’s breath catch. Then, from its golden cage, the long-tailed parrot joyfully flapped its wings, chirping, "The princess is beautiful! A true beauty!"

Qiao Wan snapped out of her daze and walked to the cage with a smile, teasing it, "So obedient today?"

As she spoke, she looked up, her gaze meeting Mu Chi’s devastatingly handsome face.

He, too, was watching the parrot in the cage, his expression serene. Sensing her gaze, his dark eyes gently lowered, concealing his thoughts.

Qiao Wan paused, remembering Mu Chi confined in a golden cage at the Songzhu Pavilion. For once, a rare thoughtfulness stirred within her. "Take this little thing out first," she said, withdrawing her hand. "And the rest of you, leave as well."

"Yes, Princess," the maidservant replied, unhooking the golden cage and quietly exiting.

Only Qiao Wan and Mu Chi remained in the bedchamber.

Qiao Wan sat at the table and gestured to the opposite seat. "You sit too."

Mu Chi glanced at her. "Thank you, Princess." He then lowered his gaze and sat opposite her, his demeanor composed.

Qiao Wan watched the subtle ripple of his white robes, her eyes lingering on his exquisite face. She shook her head slightly to clear her thoughts before asking, "Do you truly feel no pain?"

How could any person not feel pain?

Even a pinprick was unbearable for her. If one felt no pain, wouldn't that mean they would never suffer?

Mu Chi paused, then looked at the golden fruit skewer on the table and reached for it.

Qiao Wan watched his every move intently.

In the next instant, Mu Chi indifferently placed the sharp tip of the skewer against the cut on his palm, where the shard had grazed him, and was about to press down hard.

But just as the skewer pierced his flesh and a fresh bead of blood began to surface, Qiao Wan exclaimed, "Hey!" and grabbed his wrist. "What are you doing?"

Only then did she realize how unusually cold Mu Chi’s body was, as if a chill emanated from his very bones—truly icy bones and snowy skin, exuding a cold, orchid-like fragrance.

Qiao Wan’s body ran warm, and such contact felt inexplicably soothing in the stifling heat of the bedchamber.

"Didn’t the Princess wish to know if this servant truly feels no pain?" Mu Chi slightly raised his eyes, his voice low and soft.

Qiao Wan came to her senses, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. She blinked, then pulled the golden skewer from his hand. Bending down, she drew an exquisitely crafted, palm-length dagger from her ankle. Its sheath was inlaid with several red gemstones, and the blade gleamed with a silvery, cold light.

Mu Chi watched her quietly and obediently, his hand still held in hers, unmoving.

Qiao Wan glanced at him again. "You said that if you felt pain, you would love me?" She deliberately twisted the words he had spoken at the Songzhu Pavilion.

Mu Chi’s gaze sharpened slightly, then lowered to his right hand, which she held in her palm. Her palm was very warm, warmer than most people’s. Though he detested such body heat, he still smiled. "The Princess speaks truly."

Qiao Wan raised an eyebrow and smiled, gripping the dagger with one hand. She lightly drew it across the webbing between his thumb and forefinger. The razor-sharp blade instantly created an extremely fine bloodline, and beads of blood welled up.

She looked up at Mu Chi. "No feeling?"

"There is feeling," Mu Chi replied gently.

A look of delight crossed Qiao Wan’s face.

But the next moment, she felt a coolness brush against her cheek. Mu Chi’s icy, pale fingertips traced over her face, like a feather gliding across, sending shivers that tugged at her heart, warming her cheeks.

Mu Chi sat there, his expression unperturbed, observing her reaction. He smiled mockingly inwardly, but his voice grew even softer. "This servant’s feeling is precisely like this."

He could sense the dagger stirring in his flesh, but that was all.

Qiao Wan understood his meaning and frowned deeply. Then, her eyes shifted, and her brow smoothed. She simply lowered her head and, carefully gripping the dagger, continued to carve into the webbing of his hand.

Mu Chi watched as she continued to work with the dagger in his flesh, his expression remaining calm and peaceful, as if the one being cut wasn’t him. To him, it was nothing more than a trivial injury.

He even seemed somewhat distracted.

He recalled the dungeon he had been trapped in since birth, confined for a full fifteen years—dark and empty, with only a small skylight three feet square overhead through which he could see the sky outside.

On ordinary days, aside from the Grand Tutor, the imperial physicians, and a few martial arts masters, the people he saw most were the eunuchs.

They would say, "The Crown Prince bumped his forehead today," and then take a hammer to break his forehead; or, "The Crown Prince injured his pinky while practicing swordsmanship," and then use a dagger to slice off a piece of flesh from his pinky...

Just like what Qiao Wan was doing now.

But fate had some mercy after all, granting him the inability to feel pain and allowing his wounds to heal faster than most.

"Done," Qiao Wan suddenly spoke up, tossing the dagger aside and lifting his hand to examine it carefully. She smiled triumphantly. "Really no pain?"

Mu Chi followed her gaze, and then his pupils slightly constricted, a flash of killing intent passing through them.

She had carved a character into the webbing of his hand.

The dagger was sharp, so the wound didn’t bleed much—just a few lines of blood forming a stiff character:

"Wan."

Qiao Wan’s "Wan."

Just like the character "Wan" embroidered in the lower right corner of the sachet she carried and the one engraved on her dagger.

Nothing more than an object for others to play with.

"How is it?" Qiao Wan released his hand, her cheeks flushed pink from the heat in the room, her eyes bright as she declared imperiously, "From now on, you belong to me."

Mu Chi looked at her calmly, his gaze eventually drifting down to her neck—so fragile it would take only a slight effort to snap.

Noticing his silence, Qiao Wan looked at him puzzled, but her heart skipped a beat when she met his face.

Behind Mu Chi was a dimly burning candlestick. Backlit, his expression was hard to discern, only his outline vaguely outlined.

But his figure, this eerie feeling, stirred a sense of familiarity in her, very much like... the figure she had seen in her dream not long ago.

"Take off your clothes!" Qiao Wan stood up abruptly and commanded, her tone somewhat harsh.

Mu Chi slightly furrowed his brows and looked at her.

But Qiao Wan was too impatient to wait. She stepped forward directly and tugged down his loosely draped white robe. Only when she saw his chest did she pause, unsure whether she felt disappointment or relief.

There was no cross-shaped scar there.

But then, Qiao Wan couldn't help but gasp.

No one could have imagined that beneath such a face of flawless beauty, his body was covered with whip marks, burns, sword wounds—all kinds of old and new scars overlapping on his skin so pale it was nearly translucent, making them especially jarring.

"Princess?" Mu Chi's voice was soft, almost tender.

He didn't mind others scrutinizing his body, but he detested her unflinching, barefaced stare.

Qiao Wan blinked in confusion, then suddenly jolted back to awareness, her ears slightly flushed with heat. She let go of his collar and snorted, "How ugly."

As she spoke, she remembered something, turned around, and took a green porcelain bottle from a red sandalwood chest nearby. After a moment's thought, she grabbed three more and tossed them all to him, snapping impatiently, "I find the scars on your body displeasing. Since I've bought you, you must get rid of these scars. I don't want to be annoyed by the sight of them."

Mu Chi glanced at the four porcelain bottles in his arms. Just by the scent, he knew they were top-quality White Jade Ointment, each worth a fortune. This spoiled Princess Changle had casually given him four bottles.

"Also, the character I carved on the web of your right hand—you are not allowed to remove it," Qiao Wan added.

Mu Chi glanced at the wound on the web of his right hand but said nothing.

The main hall door was knocked twice, and Yicui's voice came from outside: "Princess, the heated annex has been prepared. However, there are no men's clothes in the mansion, so I've prepared some spare uniforms from the guards."

"Mm," Qiao Wan looked at Mu Chi. "Rest well today. Tomorrow, I'll take you out to buy clothes."

Such a beauty deserved the finest robes. Coincidentally, it had been a while since she last visited Yu Xiu Pavilion.

Mu Chi stood up, responded with an "As you wish," and was about to walk toward the door.

"Mu Chi," Qiao Wan called out to him.

Mu Chi stopped and turned his head to look back.

Qiao Wan lifted her chin. "Just wait. I will definitely make you hurt so much you can't help yourself."

Mu Chi finally looked directly at her. In the young girl's eyes was a vibrant, untarnished pride, untouched by failure.

It wasn't until Yicui called out "Princess" again that Mu Chi slowly smiled. "This slave awaits the princess's good news." With that, he turned and left.

The princess's mansion was vast, with intricate carvings and painted beams, winding paths leading to secluded spots. The courtyard pond was shimmering with mist, and lanterns hung everywhere.

The heated annex was not far to the right of the main hall, tastefully furnished and exuding luxury. A brazier warmed the entire room, and preserved fruits and fresh melons were placed on the table.

"Master Mu Chi, you may rest here," Yicui said, then left after seeing him in.

Mu Chi stood in the room, indifferently pushed open the window, and a cold wind instantly swept in.

He let out a faint smile. No matter how warm it was, his body remained cold. Ever since being force-fed poison, it had become like this. Even after the poison was neutralized, his body felt like a corpse.

After some time, the candles in the main hall not far away were extinguished.

The midnight was silent, dark and without light.

Mu Chi walked slowly into the courtyard and stood before the steps, both eerie and ghostly.

A soft rustle of footsteps came from the roof, followed by a gust of wind. A figure clad in black stood respectfully before Mu Chi, coughing a few times before saying, "It took me until today to locate you, young master. I beg for your forgiveness."

Mu Chi said calmly, "This was all planned by Li Muxuan. It has nothing to do with you."

Li Muxuan, his esteemed elder brother.

Si Li looked up at him, feeling as though the young master in the night was like a demon that dug out hearts, and quickly lowered his head again. "Did you know I would come tonight, young master?"

Mu Chi lazily acknowledged, "I guessed when the imperial guards were searching for fugitives at Pine and Bamboo House." He glanced at him. "Are you injured?"

"This servant is incompetent. While evading the imperial guards, I was accidentally grazed by a blade," Si Li replied hastily, his peripheral vision catching the wound on Mu Chi's hand. "Young master, your hand..."

Mu Chi followed his gaze to the character "Wan" on the web of his hand, a look of disgust flashing in his eyes. He casually took out the White Jade Ointment from his sleeve and tossed it all to Si Li as if discarding worthless weeds. "Take it as your reward."

As if even looking at it was an eyesore.

"Thank you, young master." Only after speaking did Si Li realize it was the finest White Jade Ointment, worth a fortune per bottle. "Young master, you are injured and your internal energy is sealed. Perhaps..."

"No need," Mu Chi interrupted him. "Once I have the antidote, that will suffice."

Si Li suddenly understood and asked, "Weren't you supposed to go to Princess Zhaoyang? Why did you end up at Princess Changle's mansion?"

Mu Chi chuckled, a hint of coldness in his laughter. "My plans were thwarted."

Si Li's expression turned serious. "Should I kill Princess Changle?"

Mu Chi glanced toward the dark main hall, where only a few ever-burning lamps glowed faintly in the night.

"She still serves a purpose for now," Mu Chi said with a soft laugh, though a cold glint flashed in his eyes. "The Snow Bodhi is in Prajna Temple."

The Snow Bodhi was a treasure enshrined in Prajna Temple and the antidote to unseal his internal energy.

Prajna Temple was the royal temple of the Li Kingdom, closely guarded at all times. Even Emperor Qiao Heng stayed there for a few days every year. He needed Qiao Wan.

Moreover...

Mu Chi thought of Qiao Wan's bold promise that she would "make him hurt so much he can't help himself." He, too, wanted to know if this body of his could still feel anything.

Si Li hesitated. "Will Princess Changle go to Prajna Temple?"

Mu Chi was quiet for a moment, then suddenly let out a low laugh, changing the subject. "Princess Changle carries a scent of medicinal herbs, a mix of many. Even I can only identify cinnabar, salvia, and Polygonum multiflorum."

Si Li speculated, "These are all herbs used in alchemy and for potent restoratives. The emperor of Li is obsessed with alchemy and pursuing immortality. Princess Changle is his most beloved daughter. Perhaps she has been around him for so long that the scent has lingered on her."

This time, Mu Chi did not respond.

If the medicinal scent on Qiao Wan were merely from exposure, it should have faded with the wind. Yet, throughout their journey together, the scent on her remained unchanged. It couldn’t have been something she had picked up from her surroundings—it emanated from within her body.

It seemed that the rumors about the beloved Eleventh Princess might not be entirely true.

Mu Chi thought of something else, his beautiful eyes narrowing slightly. "Set Pine and Bamboo House ablaze. And kill those who made bids that day."

"What about Princess Zhaoyang?"

Mu Chi gave him a lazy glance.

Si Li felt a chill down his spine and quickly said, "I understand."

Mu Chi was silent for a few moments. "Also, help me find something..."

Si Li listened attentively, acknowledged respectfully, and vaulted onto the wall before melting into the night.

Mu Chi watched Si Li vanish into the darkness, then finally withdrew his gaze. He glanced at the character "Wan" on the web of his hand, gave a cold laugh, and returned to his room.

Author's Note:

Laugh now, Mu, you heartless scoundrel.

Sooner or later, you'll weep over this!