Chapter 30: How Could He Find Her So Pitiful…
Truth be told, Zhao Rongzhang still didn’t have a clear plan or vision for the future. She had never been one to excel at meticulous planning; she simply held a general direction in mind and worked toward it with all her might. Ming Luo, on the other hand, was her opposite—Ming Luo wished to arrange everything flawlessly, keeping all matters firmly under control.
Yet in life, nothing can ever be fully controlled. Impermanence is the greatest “constant.” No one can predict the day they will die, so how could anyone foresee what lies far ahead?
Being cut off from her own team and separated from Ming Luo, Zhao Rongzhang did feel isolated and without support, but she wasn’t panicked, much less despairing. She didn’t even experience emotions like sorrow. Staying alive and healthy was already the greatest advantage. Besides, she had Little Mute—a human shield, a human killing tool, a human carriage and horse, a human toy… In any case, he was incredibly useful. As long as she didn’t die, she hadn’t lost. Most importantly, she possessed something no one else had—a detailed and precise map of the entire Great Zhou, down to almost every fish-scale field.
The territory of Great Zhou was vast. Conducting a full census of its households and population was already difficult, let alone surveying every acre of farmland, every stream, and every mountain. Even narrowing the scope to a single city, achieving such meticulous detail was no easy feat. To master this vast and intricate map meant mastering the lifeline of all Great Zhou. Military deployments could be planned down to specific roads, tax levies could be pinpointed to every village, and the assault and defense of fortresses, the flow and control of intelligence across the realm… This lifeline was held firmly in Zhao Rongzhang’s hands.
Very few knew of this. Many couldn’t understand Princess Yingrong’s restlessness, nor why she insisted on killing every future consort chosen for her by imperial decree. Although the new emperor was impatient, if she had obediently followed his arrangements, as the only princess of Great Zhou, how bad could her life have been? But one must not think of her merely as a princess—think of her as a person. When a person obtains something that could enable them to contend for the world, how could they not harbor ambition?
Zhao Rongzhang could not possibly be without ambition.
She finished all the rice and meat from the two bamboo tubes, and her physical strength gradually returned. Little Mute always tried to follow waterways; wherever they stopped, there was sure to be water nearby. With water, they wouldn’t die of thirst, starvation, or filth. Leaning against a large stone warmed by the sun, Zhao Rongzhang watched Little Mute scoop water, catch fish, and wash fruit by the river. The setting sun was nearly gone, stretching the young man’s figure into a lean, tall silhouette, like a jade bamboo brushstroke in ink.
Throughout the journey of the marriage alliance, Zhao Rongzhang had continuously compared, refined, and supplemented the map in her mind with the actual landscapes she encountered. This lifeline of Great Zhou could never be safely left recorded in the mortal world. After Zhao Rongzhang had completely memorized and engraved it into her mind, Mother Consort burned the last piece of silk used for drawing the map to ashes.
The world says Emperor Father dotes on her to the extreme. Indeed, she seems to be Emperor Father’s favorite child; he has given her all his paternal love. But no matter how deep that paternal affection is, it is still separated by a layer of flesh and blood, hardly comparable to everything Mother Consort has given her. Her Mother Consort is a seductress, a wanton woman. Yet this Mother Consort, despised by the world, built for her an intelligence network capable of rivaling the Imperial Guards and drew for her such a lifeline map of Great Zhou. To this day, Zhao Rongzhang still finds it difficult to understand how Mother Consort managed it.
Mother Consort would draw one section, make her memorize it, then burn that part of the map before her eyes, never drawing it a second time. She memorized like this for over a year, and ever since, she has revisited and pondered it year after year, until this map became something Zhao Rongzhang could never forget even in death. Staring at the flowing water under the sunset, Zhao Rongzhang continuously reviewed in her mind every place and every road she had traveled these past days, matching her current location with the terrain map in her memory. Details grew clearer and more complete as she traced them, imagining how to use her identity to connect with informants.
The difficulty was considerable, but the feasibility was strong. Zhao Rongzhang hadn’t yet fully matched the town Little Mute mentioned with those remote corners on the map, but once she went there and familiarized herself, it would come close enough. Little Mute was right—she could operate more freely in larger towns. Greater freedom, higher safety, and a better chance of finding informants.
Little Mute returned to start a fire, boiled water, and brought her a small basket of wild fruits. Zhao Rongzhang took the basket, chewing the fruits while examining them inside and out. The bamboo strips were so fresh in color—did he make this himself? Zhao Rongzhang recalled the whip he had pulled out that time; to think of making such a thing for her to use on himself, this Little Mute’s thinking and hands-on abilities were truly unusual.
Thinking of this, Zhao Rongzhang recalled last night. Chewing and chewing, the wild fruit made her jaw tired, and the fatigue irritated her. This Little Mute was just sick—he actually couldn’t finish. What use is the finest archer if he can draw the bowstring taut and full but cannot release the arrow?
Her desires were great, fueled by the heat toxin, making them even more intense. Last night’s well-paced, prolonged coupling had indeed satisfied her, leaving her body and mind clear, all the restless heat dissipated. But this one point still gnawed at her, something she couldn’t easily let go.
Was he sick?
Little Mute happened to be scaling a fish, scraping the small knife twice over the fish with its dead eyes and thrashing tail, scales piling up and falling with a rustle. Little Mute always worked with intense focus, so focused he showed no expression. He dipped the fish into the water, rinsed it twice to drain, then gutted it, pulling out the heart, liver, and other organs, tossing them into the river for the fish to fight over. Once cleaned, he carefully washed it again in the flowing water until not a trace of blood remained, then skewered it onto a branch. Holding the branch with the fish, he walked back toward the fire.
Zhao Rongzhang accepted the fresh tea he offered, watching as he placed the fish over the fire to roast. His expression overlapped in her mind with the scene she had glimpsed last night when she looked back amidst the rocking. Zhao Rongzhang rested her arm on her knee, looking down at him. “Come here.”
Little Mute raised his eyes, their roundness reflecting the light, and crawled forward two steps on his knees.
“Come here,” Zhao Rongzhang repeated.
Little Mute remained as obedient as ever, lifting his knees to kneel right before her.
Zhao Rongzhang pinched Little Mute’s chin, studying his face. Little Mute didn’t understand her intent, but he remained utterly obedient, barely moving, only lowering his lashes and letting the princess look. Zhao Rongzhang stroked his chin, her voice cold: “Are you just a piece of meat, or are you a person?”
Guan Xuan’s eyelashes lifted slightly.
“Only able to get hard but not finish—dead meat is like that, isn’t it?”
The princess’s dark pupils were deep, light unable to penetrate their depths. Guan Xuan gazed into such icy eyes, and his heart plummeted from a warm, sorrowful place to the very bottom.
Zhao Rongzhang caught the change in Little Mute’s expression in that instant. She hadn’t thought his emotional state was particularly good before, but after that moment, she clearly sensed his despondency. So earlier, he hadn’t truly been expressionless—he had just been faintly happy.
Having spent so much time with Little Mute and grown accustomed to his face, Zhao Rongzhang realized her words had hurt him. But so what if they did? It didn’t matter. Sparks crackled, and the fragrant aroma of fish filled the air. Zhao Rongzhang’s hand had already moved to his chest, the collar of his robe half undone by her. She paused first: “Flip it over, don’t let it burn.”
Guan Xuan turned the fish over. As he did so, the princess continued undressing him. Guan Xuan didn’t dare look into her eyes. These past two days, he had been the only one by the princess’s side. Her eyes often rested only on him. Occasionally when she spoke, it was only to him. He had almost forgotten that in her eyes, he was merely a piece of dead meat. How could he not be? When she needed to detoxify or find release, she would sit atop him, rocking and swaying in play. To please her in such play, this piece of meat naturally had to remain engorged. This had little to do with position. In moments like these, just seeing her eyes would reveal the answer—that she saw him as dead meat—and he dared not look.
On the grass scattered with fallen leaves, unknown insects crawled. Guan Xuan, trembling with lowered lashes, was pressed down by the princess. His clothes were nearly stripped away, his chest, waist, abdomen, and thighs all exposed. Under the open sky, he was laid bare like this. Dew gathered on the blades of wild grass and fell upon his body. Guan Xuan’s heart ached in waves, his eyes brimming with hot, stinging tears.
It had been a long time since Guan Xuan had felt such sorrow over this. Back in the marriage alliance carriage, when she had pressed him down time and again to take her pleasure, when her sharp canine teeth had bitten his collarbone and chest until they were covered in wounds, he hadn’t been deeply hurt—only resigned. She was the princess, the mistress he was bound to serve for life. His life was meant to be a dutiful object for her enjoyment. So he needed to remain perfectly composed around her, to harbor no human emotions toward her. An object serves its master but does not concern itself with the master.
But these past few days… but when he returned to the cave and saw the princess, saw her dust-covered face, mud-stained dress, and the fear in her eyes, his heart ached so terribly, so painfully, so sorely. How could he think her so pitiful, so heartbreaking?
His princess should not be so wretched, should not. But how could he ache for her? How could he? Yet just imagining her so pitiful—sleeping on wild grass, bitten by insects, stung by mosquitoes, covered in red bumps… drinking water from a Bamboo Tube, eating Brown Rice, her feet swollen from walking… his heart hurt so much. How could she be so pitiful? But… but.
The Princess was kneading his chest, a lewd and playful kneading. Guan Xuan was so heartbroken he couldn’t bear it, tears streaming from his eyes and rolling into the hollows of his ears. He wasn’t dead flesh—he understood she needed a piece of dead flesh, she only wanted to treat him as a piece of dead flesh, he was the one who was a piece of dead flesh. But why did she say it like that, why did she treat him as a piece of dead flesh? He wasn’t dead flesh, he wasn’t.
He was despicable, why did he find her so pitiful.
Guan Xuan cried until he no longer wanted to open his eyes. Why was he so despicable, that even the one thing that could truly belong to him—his emotions—he couldn’t hold onto.
Zhao Rongzhang had originally intended to have a taste of him, but her fullness hadn’t yet subsided, and she didn’t have the appetite to accommodate another meal, so she didn’t sit down. Her hand moved down to his lower abdomen, planning only to play with him like this, to vent some of the anger in her heart.
She was angry that he was just like a piece of dead flesh. She had spent the whole evening focused on enriching him, making him so delectable that even she liked it, yet he had worn a cold expression all night, showing no reaction at all. It wasn’t the least bit pleasing, not the least bit fun!