Chapter 9: Street Walk

Chapter 9: A Trip to Town

The Bedchamber, Princess's Mansion.

Qiao Wan sat on the chaise lounge beside the desk, lost in thought.

She had never imagined that Snow Bodhi would be the cure for Mu Chi’s painless affliction, yet upon learning this, she felt no surprise.

Snow Bodhi was a potent tonic and an antidote, always kept in the Banruo Temple, a place of excellent feng shui.

Qiao Wan had only heard that Snow Bodhi was a formula discovered by a folk healer in a rare medical text. The healer then traveled extensively, overcoming hardships to gather the herbs and create a small bottle of pills.

Because the pills closely resembled Bodhi seeds, they were named Snow Bodhi.

Later, the rare text disappeared, and some precious herbs became impossible to find. The only remaining bottle of Snow Bodhi was naturally guarded as a priceless treasure by Qiao Heng. He would only take one pill during short stays at Banruo Temple when he was extremely unwell.

On ordinary days, Banruo Temple was heavily guarded—not even a fly could get in, let alone a person.

If Snow Bodhi was the only thing that could cure Mu Chi, this matter would inevitably attract Qiao Heng's attention.

Qiao Wan couldn't help but press a hand to her chest. Outside, it was the depths of winter, bitterly cold, yet it felt as though a fire burned within her, unquenchable and persistent.

For nearly a decade, Qiao Heng had doted on and indulged her, and she had happily embraced the freedom to act as she pleased, willful and unrestrained.

She knew she was important to Qiao Heng.

But she didn’t know just how important.

Qiao Wan exhaled irritably, then remembered something and took out a drawing from a hidden compartment beside the desk.

On it, the cross-shaped pattern remained clearly visible.

If Qiao Wan had still harbored doubts about that dream before, seeing the scars on Mu Chi’s knees and ankles had dispelled most of them.

Though she didn’t know why, she had indeed dreamed of events she hadn’t experienced but which had truly happened.

And the owner of that cross-shaped scar had killed both Qiao Heng and her.

But who exactly was he?

Qiao Wan couldn’t help but roll up her wide sleeves, propping her chin in her hands as she frowned in deep thought.

When Yicui entered, she saw Qiao Wan with her fair, exposed forearms, holding her face and staring gloomily at the strange drawing. Carefully, she brought over some tea and pastries. "Princess, you’ve been cooped up in your room for two days. Don’t let it harm your health."

Qiao Wan responded listlessly, sounding rather insincere.

Yicui sighed and poured her a cup of Poria tea. "Princess, have some tea to soothe your restlessness."

This time, Qiao Wan didn’t say much and obediently took a sip. "Where’s Mu Chi?"

"Master Mu has also been in the warm pavilion these past two days and hasn’t stepped out."

Qiao Wan paused, then realized she hadn’t yet told him that "Snow Bodhi might be able to cure him." He must be feeling disappointed right now.

But if she told him and then couldn’t obtain the Snow Bodhi, wouldn’t that give him hope only to lead to despair?

That would be even crueler than never having hope at all.

"Princess, the fifteenth is approaching again in a few days. You must avoid cold foods or herbs with cold properties."

"Mmm." Qiao Wan responded absently, but the next moment, something occurred to her, and she looked up sharply.

The fifteenth.

On the fifteenth of every month, Qiao Heng would summon her to the palace, with few exceptions.

Even if he was occasionally unwell, he would call for her again within five days.

Since she moved to the princess’s mansion at twelve, this had never been interrupted.

"Princess?" Yicui asked, puzzled.

Qiao Wan smiled at her and finally stood up. "I’m going to check on the warm pavilion."

*

Warm Pavilion.

Sandalwood incense curled lazily from the burner, and the brazier burned vigorously, occasionally accompanied by the faint crackling of charcoal.

Mu Chi lazily held an ancient text, flipping through it casually. His white robes seemed to glow in the light from the window, enveloping him in an ethereal, icy clarity.

After a long while, Mu Chi set the book aside and glanced at the sunlight outside.

It was a rare sunny day for this time of year.

But... it had been two days.

Qiao Wan hadn’t seen him, nor had she come to find him.

Zhang He had already told her about the Snow Bodhi. She hadn’t mentioned it to him, and now she hadn’t even shown up.

Though it wasn’t surprising—if she were poisoned, he certainly wouldn’t bother with her either.

But Mu Chi couldn’t help but cold-laugh inwardly.

The little princess’s cheap, fleeting admiration was indeed as dull to exploit as he expected.

The window of the warm pavilion was pushed open silently as Si Li slipped in quietly. "Young Master, the task you assigned not long ago has been completed."

"Mm." Mu Chi responded softly, taking a dark blue porcelain bottle from his sleeve. His tone was as casual as if discussing the weather. "If Qiao Wan hasn’t appeared in three days, poison her food."

Since she couldn’t make a choice, he would make it for her.

Qiao Heng would never stand by and watch her die.

Si Li never questioned his master’s decisions and simply bowed his head in acknowledgment. "Yes."

No sooner had he spoken than hurried footsteps sounded outside the door. Si Li’s expression shifted slightly as he looked at Mu Chi.

"Hide for now," Mu Chi said lazily.

Si Li’s figure vanished instantly through the inner window.

Almost simultaneously, the door to the warm pavilion was pushed open from the outside. Qiao Wan stood there, calling out to him with a bright, clear voice. "Mu Chi!"

As she spoke, her breath misted in the cold air, and her cheeks were flushed and sweaty from rushing over.

Mu Chi lowered his eyes slightly, feigning surprise. "Princess, what brings you here?"

"I came to see you," Qiao Wan said cheerfully. The sudden warmth of the room made her breath catch for a moment, but she quickly recovered and glanced around Mu Chi’s room. Her eyes then fell on a dark red brocade fur coat bundled on the nearby daybed for resting, its hem drooping and faintly revealing scorch marks.

Qiao Wan made a puzzled "Hmm?" sound and walked forward.

Mu Chi's expression turned slightly cold, his fingers twitched slightly, but he quickly regained his composure.

Only when Qiao Wan picked up the brocade fur coat did she realize it was the very garment that was a perfect match for her own fox fur coat, except there was a hole burned into the bottom.

The expensive brocade fur coat had become a tattered rag.

Qiao Wan felt a tightness in her chest and turned to look at Mu Chi.

Mu Chi lowered his gaze, his voice soft: "A few days ago, while warming myself by the brazier, I accidentally burned the brocade fur coat."

As he spoke, his hand moved slightly, about to hide it in his sleeve.

Qiao Wan noticed his movement, looked down, her expression changed, and she reached out to grab his hand.

His fingers looked as if they had been scorched—the less severe thumb had bright red blisters, while the severe index and middle fingers had skin and flesh curled and charred, revealing raw, bloody tissue underneath.

A shocking sight.

Qiao Wan felt a pang in her heart: "How did it burn so badly? Doesn't it hurt—"

She stopped mid-sentence.

He couldn't feel pain.

In an instant, Qiao Wan remembered something and widened her eyes: "Did you burn your hand like this because you were trying to save the brocade fur coat from falling into the fire?"

Mu Chi's long eyelashes trembled slightly, and he lowered his gaze, neither denying nor admitting it.

Qiao Wan's breath hitched, and she stared at him wide-eyed. For some reason, she suddenly thought of the child in her dream who asked, "Are the sugar-coated hawthorns tasty?"

And also, those voices that mockingly called him "monster."

She pressed her lips together, looking down at his bloody fingertips. After a long moment, she let out a heavy sigh, as if having made a decision. She looked at him firmly, a determined glint in her eyes, then smiled at him, revealing her small canines: "I will definitely heal you, but before that—"

Before she could finish, she stopped, her eyes darting around. She grabbed his uninjured left hand and pulled him outside.

Caught off guard, Mu Chi actually let himself be led a few steps.

Yicui, waiting outside the door, hurriedly asked: "Princess, where are you going?"

Without looking back, Qiao Wan called out loudly: "To the street, to buy sugar-coated hawthorns!"

Yicui, thoughtful as ever, quickly brought them fur cloaks.

Today was one of the rare sunny days in the twelfth lunar month, and the streets were unusually bustling and lively.

Qiao Wan kept holding Mu Chi's hand, weaving through the crowds. Her fiery red fox fur coat fluttered in the bleak winter, and the bùyáo hair ornaments on her head swayed like a dancing flame.

Mu Chi followed calmly behind her, occasionally avoiding the surrounding crowd with disgust, but his hand remained held by a warm grip he couldn't break free from, which irritated him.

It wasn't until they saw the crowd gathered ahead that Qiao Wan slowed her pace.

"Have you heard? The Pine Bamboo Pavilion caught fire the day before yesterday. That huge building is now just an empty frame..."

"Indeed, I heard many people inside didn't make it out, burned beyond recognition."

"They must have offended the gods. Even Old Master Zhang from the east of the city got drunk late at night and was crushed by a stone slab, not a single part of him left intact."

"Even the bandits from the small Ling Hill outside the city have come down several times to rob for the winter. I heard they injured several villagers..."

"Seems we should go to the temple and pray."

In the crowd, someone spoke with lingering fear, then gradually fell silent, staring blankly ahead.

The others were puzzled.

"Boss, two portions of roasted chestnuts!" A clear, crisp female voice, carrying her usual willful, arrogant tone, rang out clearly amid the noisy crowd.

As she spoke, Qiao Wan turned to Mu Chi with a smile: "The roasted chestnuts here are especially sweet and fragrant."

Mu Chi returned a gentle smile, his eyes slightly lowered, hiding a fleeting cold glint.

When he was seven years old, Li Muxuan once burned his hand while eating roasted chestnuts.

So the eunuchs took a burning twig, grabbed his hand, and made him watch as his index finger was held over the flame to burn.

"Try this." Suddenly, a hand appeared in front of him, and something warm, sweet, and fragrant touched his lips.

Mu Chi snapped back to reality and looked down.

Qiao Wan was holding a peeled chestnut to his lips. Seeing him silent, she urged: "Open your mouth."

Mu Chi gazed at her for a long moment, then slightly parted his lips and took the chestnut into his mouth. He smiled faintly: "Thank you, Princess. It's delicious."

But Qiao Wan was stunned for a moment.

Today, Mu Chi was wearing a snow-white brocade fur coat over a white silk round-collared robe embroidered with cloud patterns in white gold thread. Against his snow-white complexion, his red lips slightly parted, he looked every bit the noble and enchanting figure.

The surroundings gradually grew quiet.

Qiao Wan turned around in confusion, her face darkened.

Many people were also looking at Mu Chi. Even if their eyes held contempt, they couldn't hide their amazement, and many young women blushed shyly.

Qiao Wan pouted and glared at Mu Chi: "I really should have someone make you a Raksha mask."

Mu Chi still smiled, following her gaze to look around, a hint of mockery in his eyes.

Indeed, in the eyes of the world, she was a noble Princess Changle, and he was lowly as dirt. It was only natural for her to feel embarrassed.

Qiao Wan muttered under her breath: "This way, only I can look at you!"

Mu Chi was slightly startled, tilting his head as if somewhat puzzled while studying her.

But Qiao Wan had no desire to stay there a moment longer. She grabbed his hand and said: "The osmanthus cakes and pear blossom pastries over there are also very good!" With that, she pulled him toward the pastry shop.

Mu Chi frowned, looking at her hand holding his—she hadn't let go since they'd left.

Her palm was very warm, likely from years of taking those potent tonics; the heat of it annoyed him.

Not only that, but also the crowds around them, the bustling long street, the prosperous shops—each and every one filled him with disgust.

Yet she remained completely unaware. After buying pastries, there were also candied fruits, dragon beard candy, sweet almond soup, perilla tea...

She was so familiar with everything here.

As they walked and browsed, after what felt like ages, Qiao Wan’s footsteps suddenly came to a halt.

Mu Chi frowned and followed her gaze, his eyes suddenly turning icy.

A vendor stood there holding a straw pole filled with candied hawthorn berries, calling out, "Candied hawthorn berries—"

Candied hawthorn berries.

Mu Chi's smile widened.

The origin of all nightmares.

At the age of five, because of a candied hawthorn berry, his leg was savagely broken. That was the first time he realized how worthless he was.

Even though he and Li Muxuan shared the same blood.

"Mu Chi," Qiao Wan called him from beside him.

Mu Chi suppressed his surging emotions and looked at her.

Surprisingly, he saw a hint of compassion in her eyes.

What was she pitying?

Him?

Mu Chi stared at her for a moment, then let out a soft, hollow laugh. He was even more annoyed by the look in her eyes now.

But the next moment, Qiao Wan ran toward the vendor.

Mu Chi was puzzled, only seeing Qiao Wan toss a piece of silver to the vendor. The vendor’s eyes lit up with delight and he tried to hand her the entire straw pole.

Qiao Wan waved her hand in refusal, then returned with two bunches of candied hawthorn berries. Standing before him, she raised her hands and offered both bunches to him: "Eat!"

"These are all yours."

The smile on Mu Chi’s lips stiffened slightly. His gaze fell on the ten or more candied hawthorn berries, then shifted to Qiao Wan.

She was smiling at him, the little canine on the right side of her lips almost taunting, catching the light.

Utterly repulsive.

Qiao Wan blinked. Seeing that he was only staring at her without reaching out, she simply grabbed his hand and stuffed the candied hawthorn berries into his grasp.

The bright red hawthorn berries were coated in a glossy sugar glaze, emitting a cloyingly sweet-and-sour aroma.

"Eat," Qiao Wan urged him, smiling through squinted eyes. "Candied hawthorn berries are delicious."

Distantly, Mu Chi remembered once asking the Grand Tutor, "Are candied hawthorn berries really that delicious?"

So delicious that Li Muxuan fell off the palace wall? So delicious that... it required breaking his leg?

"Hurry up and eat!" Qiao Wan continued to urge.

Mu Chi glanced at her and slowly ate one hawthorn berry.

Just then, a lazy, unrestrained voice came from the entrance of the embroidery shop not far away: "Alright, proprietress, once it’s done, send it to the Dingguo General’s residence."

The voice sounded familiar.

Qiao Wan instinctively turned to look, then raised an eyebrow.

Jing Lan was wearing a loosely fitted vibrant red official robe with a round collar, a lacquered leather belt at his waist, and a black gauze cap with flat wings. He looked somewhat more formal than usual, though a fresh cut—as if from a whip—marred his cheek.

He was strutting out of the embroidery shop at that moment.

Qiao Wan remembered her missing sachet.

She had sent someone to ask at Yu Xiu Pavilion. The shopkeeper said Jing Lan had been carrying a sachet that day, but it was too far away to see clearly.

Qiao Wan didn’t believe Jing Lan would steal her personal belongings, but the thought of that sachet made her want to get a straight answer. She turned to Mu Chi with a smile, "Wait here for me. I won't be long."

Without waiting for Mu Chi’s response, she strode purposefully toward the embroidery shop.

Mu Chi remained standing where he was, a faint smile on his lips as he watched Qiao Wan cross the street and stride toward Jing Lan on the other side.

In an instant, the annoying warmth around him vanished. The cold winter wind scattered the last trace of warmth.

For the first time, he felt inexplicably cold.

Mu Chi frowned, staring at the candied hawthorn berries in his hand.

He raised his hand and threw them all into a nearby corner. The hawthorn berries were instantly tarnished with dirt.

Mu Chi brushed off his fingers.

Since she had gone to find Jing Lan, he would, of course, leave them to it.

On the other side.

Jing Lan felt somewhat guilty about having torn Qiao Wan’s sachet. Although he disliked her, he had to admit she had genuine feelings for him.

After some thought, he decided to have the sachet repaired by the embroidery shop and find an opportunity to return it to her later.

After handing over the sachet and emphasizing the need for secrecy, Jing Lan was about to leave when he heard someone call him: "Jing Lan."

Jing Lan paused and turned to see Qiao Wan, dressed in a fiery red fox fur coat, approaching him with her usual energetic, unladylike air.

Jing Lan glanced at her and scoffed, "You followed me all the way here?"

Qiao Wan frowned, her eyes briefly sweeping over the whip mark on his face. She had no time for pleasantries. "Have you seen my sachet?"

Jing Lan guiltily glanced toward the embroidery shop and immediately replied, "What sachet? Why would I want your sachet? To ward off evil spirits?"

*It seems the sachet is repaired,* he thought. *I’ll have to toss it over the wall into the princess’ residence. Whether she finds it or not will be up to fate.*

Hearing Jing Lan’s response, Qiao Wan gave him an irritated look and left without another moment’s delay.

Jing Lan stared displeased at her retreating back. Was this how she treated someone she admired?

After a while, Jing Lan turned to leave for the Privy Council, only to find someone blocking his path once again.

Si Li stood before Jing Lan, looking down, holding a small jar. "Young General Jing, your cheek is injured. Someone asked me to deliver this to you."

With that, Si Li turned and left.

Jing Lan looked curiously at the bottle, opened it after a moment, and took a whiff.

White Jade Ointment?

The bottle was obviously imperial.

Qiao Wan.

Jing Lan snorted derisively.

Just moments ago, she had been curt and dismissive with him, and now she sent someone with premium White Jade Ointment.

She must really be infatuated with him!