Chapter 53 (Revised) The Princess Gets Food for Little Mute…

Zhao Rongzhang reacted swiftly, preventing the old woman from collapsing to the ground. Yet the woman lay stiffly across her arm, eyes slightly closed, lips tightly pressed, her entire body rigid as if dead. Little Mute took her over, forcefully pinching her philtrum until the upper lip seemed about to tear, but she still did not wake.

“Dead? If she’s dead, put her on the boat and take her back!” the overseer urged. “Hurry, everyone, follow me into the water. You’re so slow—other households caught over a dozen baskets of crabs last night and sent them out by Eight Hundred Li Express. How long are you going to dawdle?”

The others on the boat had just gathered to look, but upon hearing such urging, they dispersed again. Zhao Rongzhang turned and cursed, “What’s the rush?”

Then she asked Little Mute, “Is she really dead?”

Little Mute remained silent.

The crowd hunched over and moved past them on both sides, the sunlight flickering and dimming as it swept over the three of them.

Zhao Rongzhang fell into a brief confusion. She had never seen such a death—so sudden, insignificant, silent, like a speck of dust.

She was tense and angry, grabbing someone to ask, “What’s her name? Where is her home? We must have her family come to claim her.”

“Just go, go. She was unlucky—didn’t earn any money and died in a foreign land. If you have any conscience, bury her somewhere, considering she once served you a bowl of soup.” With that, the person shook off her hand and quickened his pace.

With chaos approaching, what was so strange about death?

Zhao Rongzhang’s mind was a tangled mess. She shook the old woman forcefully, shouting, “What death?!”

No matter how she shook her, the woman wouldn’t wake. An unprecedented sense of helplessness enveloped her. She looked around blankly.

Until she saw Little Mute also walking forward.

Little Mute cradled the old woman, following everyone.

Zhao Rongzhang suddenly seemed to find direction and strode to catch up. She said angrily, “Right, let’s go together!”

The fat old overseer immediately darkened his face, cracking his whip on the ground with a loud “snap.” He roared, “Throw her away!”

Little Mute ignored him.

“We hired living people, not dead ones! Don’t think I won’t report you to the authorities, I’ll—”

Little Mute’s icy gaze pierced through him, sharp and fierce, cutting off the fat old man’s words.

A ghostly youth, truly cradling a dead person in his arms—the scene was too shocking, too terrifying.

The young girl behind him was like a blazing, explosive fire, scorching and stinging to the eyes.

Ahead was the low, crude bamboo shed that the Crab Household had arranged for the Crab Gatherers, containing only two rows of communal beds. Guan Xuan placed the old woman, along with her thin bundle, at the innermost side.

Zhao Rongzhang hadn’t stopped cursing—the fat old man, the heartless Crab Household, the indifferent fellow villagers of the old woman. Then she caught sight of Little Mute cutting his finger, blood gushing out. Startled, she grabbed his hand, exclaiming, “What are you doing?!”

Zhao Rongzhang nervously tried to hold and stop the bleeding, afraid of damaging his flesh or hurting him. Guan Xuan smiled slightly, took her hands, and instead pressed the wound to the old woman’s lips.

Zhao Rongzhang vaguely recalled something: “Can you revive her? She isn’t dead?”

Zhao Rongzhang had an inexplicably strong trust in Little Mute’s abilities, believing there was nothing he couldn’t do.

Little Mute said nothing, shaking his head.

Zhao Rongzhang wasn’t disappointed. Even the slightest possibility was good enough.

After cursing for a long time, Zhao Rongzhang felt her stomach grow weak and soft, hunger washing over her. Seeing Little Mute’s two fingers still bleeding profusely, she couldn’t bear to watch and turned away, rushing outside. “I need some air!”

Guan Xuan instinctively moved to follow, but she pressed him down. “I’ll call you if I need anything. Stay here and rest.”

She then glanced at the old woman. “You can’t leave this place.”

Guan Xuan kept his eyes fixed on her until her figure disappeared from sight, his ears closely following the sound of her footsteps.

After the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, the Princess returned. Her face was pale, but she happily carried a bowl.

Guan Xuan looked up at her, and the Princess handed him the bowl. “Eat! I cursed at them for a long time to get this meal.”

It was a bowl piled high with white rice, pure and full. Guan Xuan shook his head gently at her.

“You want me to eat this? Not even a single green leaf—how can I eat it? I won’t!” Zhao Rongzhang criticized the meal she had fought for, then added, “This was specially fetched for you. It’s all you deserve.”

Guan Xuan took the bowl, his gaze still gentle, but his heart ached. He had heard the disdain and curses the Princess endured to get this bowl of rice.

He picked up a few grains of rice and brought them to his mouth, but before he could chew, the Princess impatiently urged him, “Dig deeper! Eat big mouthfuls!”

Guan Xuan had only intended to eat a little, planning to leave the clean, untouched portion for the Princess. Even when he dug deeper, it wasn’t by much. Unexpectedly, the Princess grew even more impatient. She placed her palm over the back of his hand and pressed it toward the bottom of the bowl.

“Eat.”

This revealed chunks of meat hidden at the bottom of the bowl.

Seeing Little Mute lift his head, the young girl crossed her arms, her lips curling with pride, though her eyes held a hint of dissatisfaction and faint reproach. “You don’t even know how to eat properly. So stupid.”

Oil and rice grains mixed together, the fragrant, crispy meat nestled among them. The aroma of rice and meat filled his mouth as Guan Xuan chewed.

It was delicious.

For a long time in the past, he couldn’t swallow meat. That period was so long he couldn’t even remember when it began. But as a Shadow Guard, he needed a strong physique and extraordinary strength. The meals the Princess arranged for him were often filled with meat. Even if he couldn’t swallow it, he would force it down—eating was a necessary task.

Today was different.

The old woman lay on the bed, motionless. Guan Xuan had fed her his blood several times, but it had little effect. Still, when he checked her pulse and breathing, he noticed a faint sign of life returning.

Zhao Rongzhang wanted to find a doctor, but she had no money. Guan Xuan went out for a while. When he returned, he held a handful of grass in his hand. He crushed the herbs in his palm, turning them into a damp, pulpy mass, then pressed it under the old woman’s tongue.

As night fell, the lanterns in the nearby houses went out one by one, and the Crab Gatherers returned one after another, dragging the stench of the sea with them. The smell nearly made Zhao Rongzhang vomit. She used the old woman to separate them from a corner and hid herself in the innermost part of the shelter.

The female Crab Gatherers slept in one row, the males in another. Some didn’t even wash before lying down. The shelter was pitch black, and soon, the sound of snoring rose and fell in waves.

Before dawn the next day, the fat old man slapped open the bamboo door, kicked aside the straw sandals scattered on the ground, and barged in with a lantern. “Three dead people, taking up so much of my space! You have to get out today!”