Chapter 33: The Cat Is Unhappy.

“I don’t want to be treated anymore.”

The words were directed at the old doctor, and Guan Xuan also used gestures that he hoped the old doctor could understand. Yet even after expressing this, the old doctor still wore a puzzled expression. On the other hand, the princess’s emotions immediately showed on her face.

Did he think he could just decide not to be treated? Since when did he get to call the shots? Zhao Rongzhang thought angrily, then grew even more furious at the thought of this old quack doctor, asking nonsense questions and unable to prescribe a remedy! If he couldn’t treat it, he shouldn’t try! Was the world short of one doctor?

Zhao Rongzhang quickly folded the previous prescription, shouted “Let’s go” at Little Mute, and turned to leave.

Seeing the tall, sturdy young man move to the girl’s side in the blink of an eye, the old doctor leisurely stretched his shoulder joints and said calmly, “I practice at this medical clinic, with one day off every five days. Tomorrow, the clinic will be closed.”

Zhao Rongzhang, accustomed to having her own way, ignored rules and cared little for anyone but herself. She paid no attention to the old man’s muttering. Pushing aside the curtain, she went to the counter to settle the bill and collect the medicine. She first took five doses, handed them to Little Mute to carry, and within a few steps, she was out of the medical clinic.

One dose cost twenty wen, five doses totaled one hundred wen, plus the old doctor’s consultation fee, making it one hundred and thirty wen in all. Indeed, it wasn’t expensive. Zhao Rongzhang didn’t feel like walking much farther. At the nearest intersection, there happened to be a four-story inn. She went in to ask about the prices.

In large towns with heavy foot traffic, there were many inns and fierce competition, which kept prices relatively low. Zhao Rongzhang checked the room rate board. The lowest-tier shared dormitory cost ten wen per night, the second-tier room one hundred and twenty wen, and the premium room two hundred wen exactly. Besides these three tiers, there were also so-called “celestial” and “earthly” superior rooms, but there was no need to look at those prices—six, seven, or eight hundred wen, enough to stuff oneself to death with shaobing.

Zhao Rongzhang lightly tapped the countertop, calculating thoughtfully, and asked about the amenities for the second-tier and premium rooms. The waiter explained in detail: the second-tier room had a bed, tables, chairs, stools, and a chamber pot, along with some coarse tea and a lamp. The premium room not only had better-quality furniture and materials but also offered a free bathtub and hot water. If you wanted any dishes, just call for the waiter, and he would run errands to buy and deliver them. It sounded like even the second-tier room was comparable to the premium room they had stayed in last time.

Zhao Rongzhang took out some silver and watched as the waiter weighed it on the small steelyard and cut it. She booked a second-tier room.

When she went upstairs, she saw that the floor was clean, the windows let in light and air, and the bedding on the bed was neatly arranged without a single wrinkle. Only then did Zhao Rongzhang realize how badly she had been cheated that night.

The cat, still holding a large pile of snacks, stood silently behind her. Zhao Rongzhang glanced at him and reached out her hand. The cat looked at himself, then at her, taking a step forward while adjusting the things in his hands. Zhao Rongzhang said irritably, “Give me the medicine.”

The cat placed the medicine in her hand. Zhao Rongzhang called for the waiter to come upstairs. The waiter said that helping to brew the medicine once would cost two wen. Zhao Rongzhang first laid out five copper coins and, before handing them over, instructed, “Use a clean stove, watch the fire carefully, and don’t ruin the herbs. I’ve been taking medicine for years and can tell good from bad just by the smell. If you do it well, I’ll reward you extra.”

The chance to earn extra tips was something the waiter never refused, though three coins could hardly be called a pleasant surprise. With a quick “Yes, ma’am,” the waiter took the medicine and the money and left.

Once the door closed, the world shrank back to just the two of them. Outside the window, cicadas buzzed shrilly. At noon, everyone sought shelter from the sun, and several tables downstairs were occupied by travelers catching a nap. Zhao Rongzhang was thirsty. She wiped a teacup with a handkerchief and poured some water, only to find it coarse and nearly undrinkable. She suspected that even if someone had tossed a handful of rotten leaves into the pot, it wouldn’t taste this bad. Already in a foul mood, even a sip of water failed to satisfy her. She set the cup down with a frown and glared at Little Mute.

Tear stains still glistened on Little Mute’s face, his eyelashes lowered as he stared at the dust motes dancing in the sunlight. Zhao Rongzhang’s tone was sharp: “You belong to me. What gives you the right to decide whether you’ll be treated or not?”

Little Mute pulled his thoughts back from the floating dust, but his expression remained unchanged. Zhao Rongzhang’s irritation flared. “If you can’t be cured and stay this useless, I’ll definitely replace you. Do you really think you have a choice?”

Little Mute stood there obediently, as if indifferent to every possibility she mentioned. Zhao Rongzhang was furious. What a lifeless block of wood, a lump of dead flesh, a mute fool! Even a real cat would have more humanity than him!

The Princess was so angry she wanted to say things that would wound him to the core—like “Crying in front of outsiders just to gain sympathy” or “Even a wooden carving of a fake cat would be more likable than you.” But she held back. There was no need to deliberately misunderstand him or hurt him like that. Mindlessly venting her emotions wasn’t a good habit, nor was it something a person destined for greatness would do. She refused to let her emotions control her mind.

The Princess ordered Little Mute to bring over all the food she had bought. He obeyed without a word. She brushed past him, quickly picking out the tastiest bits and devouring them. Full and still simmering with anger, drowsiness crept over her. She crawled into the bed curtain, pulled it over her head, and settled in for an afternoon nap.

Guan Xuan’s gaze fell on the Princess, who fell asleep the moment she touched the bed. Since being stranded away from home, the Princess had grown increasingly casual in her speech and actions. Without anyone to care for her, her life had become rough. For instance, at this moment, she was lying half on the bed curtain—how could that be comfortable? Yet no one was there to adjust it for her. After a moment’s hesitation, Little Mute quietly approached, grasped the curtain, and with careful control of his strength and movement, gently pulled it free without a trace. The curtain still carried the warmth of the Princess’s body.

The heat made everything sticky, so Zhao Rongzhang didn’t sleep long. Just as she began to stir, the waiter knocked on the door. She propped herself up by the waist, lifting her head. The movement cleared her mind. A cool breeze brushed her face, faintly reminding her of a dream where she walked by a lake, greeted by a similarly refreshing wind. The Princess looked up toward the source of the breeze—a palm-leaf fan waving gently, placed above a basin of solid ice. Her eyes widened as she stared at Little Mute, who was fanning her.

With permission granted, the waiter pushed the door open as instructed and placed the bowl of medicine on the table. As he left, he glanced at the items on the table and shot Zhao Rongzhang a look of surprise.

After the waiter left, Zhao Rongzhang examined the medicine; the brewing time and heat had indeed been well controlled. She had Little Mute drink it. Holding the bowl, Little Mute obediently drank it, his eyelashes still lowered in their usual gentle curve. Watching him, Zhao Rongzhang wondered if he would actually fall asleep. Several ingredients in the prescription had sleep-inducing effects.

She had been thirsty before sleeping, and after waking up, she was even thirstier. Zhao Rongzhang intended to call the waiter back to bring a pot of plain water. Unexpectedly, when she lowered her gaze, she noticed a small white porcelain tea jar and a brand-new tea set on the table. She hadn’t been fully awake earlier and hadn’t noticed them. No wonder the waiter had looked so surprised earlier—the tea set was clearly expensive and likely didn’t match the modest appearance of someone staying in a second-class room.

Zhao Rongzhang picked up the tea jar, unscrewed the porcelain lid, and was greeted by a refreshing, slightly bitter tea aroma, with hints of orchid and chestnut. It was Lu’an Guapian, the tea she often drank to relieve heat and greasiness, and the quality was excellent. The teapot was already filled with hot water, slightly warm but not scalding—just the right temperature for brewing tea. Zhao Rongzhang first rinsed her mouth with a sip of coarse tea, then took a few leaves from the jar to examine closely. She asked, “Where did you get this? Unless I give an order, you cannot take things from others. Do you understand?”

Unless she gave an order, taking something without permission was considered stealing. Zhao Rongzhang suspected that Little Mute, being so naive, might not understand this.

Little Mute nodded at her.

Zhao Rongzhang looked at the tea leaves and tea set, then at the large block of ice. “Did you beg for it?”

A complicated expression appeared on Little Mute’s face. First, he found her words absurd—he was the Princess’s person and would rather die than beg, and besides, these things couldn’t possibly be obtained by begging. Then he realized she was teasing him again, mocking him for crying in front of outsiders as if seeking sympathy. The Old Doctor had taken pity on him and deliberately prescribed cheaper medicine, fearing she wouldn’t buy it for him. She had been somewhat displeased about this.

Little Mute was unhappy, frowning and shaking his head firmly at her.

Zhao Rongzhang poured the tea, swirled it to release its aroma, and held the cup in her hand. She looked at Little Mute with a relaxed gaze, slowly sipping the tea. Little Mute was still amusing—once he got over one thing, he became more expressive about others. His expressions were quite entertaining to watch.

Thinking of this, Zhao Rongzhang felt annoyed again. But dwelling on it would only waste her energy, which was unnecessary. She had more important matters to attend to.

While drinking her tea, Zhao Rongzhang opened the window and focused intently on observing the various directions and routes of the town. Little Mute continued to fan her from the side.

Finding informants and contacting them followed a complete set of procedures and routines. However, most of these informants lived hidden among the common people, and even if they passed each other on the street, they might not recognize one another’s identities. Moreover, as the highest-level recipient, she didn’t know the specifics of how they connected and communicated.

If only Ming Luo were here. Without this companion who was both a teacher and a friend, Zhao Rongzhang struggled every day. The Grand Empress Dowager’s control over the regions was too strong. Alone, she couldn’t even begin to think about rescuing Ming Luo. For now, the best course of action was to find an informant, connect one thread to unravel the entire web, and make her and Little Mute’s movements transparent and safe. Only then could she plan further ahead.

This town belonged to Hongfu Prefecture, which was situated at the intersection of rivers running east, west, south, and north. Continuing southward, crossing the river, one would officially step into the southwestern region. Heading north, vegetation would gradually thin out, and the land would become increasingly flat and vast—that was the northwestern frontier. If one sailed downriver with the wind, they would eventually reach Jiangnan. Even though this town was in a relatively remote part of Hongfu Prefecture, it was already so bustling and lively. One could imagine that there must be many informants hidden within Hongfu Prefecture.

So, was it possible that an informant might actively seek her out?

Zhao Rongzhang suddenly saw a way forward. She had fallen from the imperial family and couldn’t even grasp the value of money. Rashly trying to find an informant would undoubtedly lead to countless troubles. But on the other hand, informants were well-informed enough that they would surely find her first.

Thus, her best course of action now was to ensure that she wasn’t captured by the Grand Empress Dowager, Zhao Jue, or even Prince Su’s people before the informants found her?

Just as she thought of this, a sudden movement came from beside her. Zhao Rongzhang turned to look and saw Little Mute leaning against the window railing, his head tilted and drooping. The handle of the palm-leaf fan had been crushed to pieces in his grip, and his entire body was off-balance, as if he might collapse at any moment.

Zhao Rongzhang was startled and slapped him: “Are you dying?!”

Little Mute was dazed, shaking his head and scratching his chin with difficulty.

Zhao Rongzhang remembered—it was the Old Doctor’s medicine taking effect.