Chapter 56 (Revised) Little Mute Really Seemed Like He Was Being Petted…

Little Mute shook his head, still wanting to continue talking with her. He had found Ming Luo, and he was very happy for the Princess. There were so many things he wanted to say.

Zhao Rongzhang couldn’t help but smile. So he had this much to say. If he could speak, he might have been chattering nonstop in her ear.

Zhao Rongzhang walked up to a steamed bun shop and fished a copper coin from her pocket. The shopkeeper was dozing off at a table inside, snoring quite loudly. Zhao Rongzhang had to call out several times before she managed to wake him.

Not many people came to buy steamed buns at this hour. The shopkeeper lifted the lids of the five-tiered steamer to check—there were only four or five left, and they were all cold. Zhao Rongzhang didn’t mind and asked how many buns one copper coin could buy. Rubbing his sleepy eyes, the shopkeeper casually lifted the lid of a nearby pot. Inside was the leftover base of a lotus root soup, still warm from the residual heat of the stove.

“I’ll give you two. This soup base isn’t going to anyone anyway. I’ll ladle some for you too. Have a seat and drink it here,” the shopkeeper said as he fetched a bowl.

“Thank you.” Zhao Rongzhang was pleased to take advantage of this mutually agreeable little bargain. After all, the money earned from catching crabs had truly been hard to come by.

Zhao Rongzhang sat down at the table and poured some old tea to rinse the bowls, chopsticks, and spoon. The moment she sat down, Little Mute stopped “talking” and quietly stood guard beside her, his peripheral vision alert to every movement around them.

Zhao Rongzhang also rinsed a set of bowls and chopsticks for him. “Sit down and eat.”

Little Mute didn’t move. Zhao Rongzhang looked up at him, and he averted his gaze to the side.

“Sit. Eat.”

Guan Xuan sat down beside her, somewhat stiffly. Unless absolutely necessary, he shouldn’t be “sitting as an equal” with the Princess.

The shopkeeper brought over a full bowl of lotus root soup and two steamed buns.

Zhao Rongzhang picked up one bun and tore it open. It was filled with shredded radish mixed with a small amount of shredded meat. She didn’t like radish, especially not as a filling, so she used her chopsticks to scoop out the filling and brought it to Little Mute’s mouth.

Little Mute obediently opened his mouth and took it, but the tips of his ears instantly flushed bright red. Zhao Rongzhang ate the bun’s skin and urged him, “Eat quickly.”

Guan Xuan took small bites of the bun.

Zhao Rongzhang took a couple of sips of the lotus root soup and pushed the bowl toward him. “Drink.”

Little Mute then picked up the spoon she had just set down and took small, careful sips. Now his neck was flushed red too.

Zhao Rongzhang propped her chin on her hand and watched him. When he lowered his eyes, the red scar at the end of his eyebrow came into her view. The scar had already scabbed over, its color darkened. Zhao Rongzhang reached out and gently stroked it twice with her fingertip. Little Mute, like a cat truly being petted on the head, took even smaller sips of the soup.

“Did you run into those Death Warriors? All I heard you talk about was Ming Luo. Are you really not injured anywhere else? Does the old wound on your back still hurt?”

Little Mute shook his head.

Zhao Rongzhang pinched his cheek. “You ‘talked’ all the way here, and now all you can do is shake your head?”

Guan Xuan didn’t answer, just held the bun and continued eating.

Zhao Rongzhang glanced down at the lukewarm shredded radish filling and asked with a smile, “Do you actually like this?”

Little Mute nodded.

“How could anyone like such a strange taste? Have you eaten it before?”

Little Mute nodded.

Zhao Rongzhang sipped her tea disdainfully. She had never even heard of shredded radish being used as a bun filling before. In her mouth, it was neither sweet nor salty, just filled with the peculiar taste of radish itself. Adding a bit of meat only introduced the greasy, fishy smell of the meat. In short, to her palate, it was simply unpalatable.

The shopkeeper heard this and chuckled, “I can tell from your accents that you’re not from around here. We love making radish dishes here—radish thread cakes, radish thread spring rolls, radish thread buns, and dried radish too.”

Zhao Rongzhang took another sip of tea, her thoughts drifting for a moment before she suddenly asked Little Mute, “When have you eaten this before?”

She didn’t recall ever giving him anything like this.

Little Mute continued chewing the filling, his expression unchanged.

“Do you like it?” Zhao Rongzhang asked. “If you do, I’ll buy the rest before we leave so you can eat it on the road.”

Guan Xuan shook his head, declining.

After finishing the bun, Guan Xuan picked up his bowl and drank the lotus root soup.

Zhao Rongzhang sensed he was deliberately avoiding her question. Before leaving, she bought all the remaining buns.

They continued their journey, traveling until dawn the next day, when Zhao Rongzhang saw the dark alley Guan Xuan had described earlier.

The alley was wedged between bustling districts. Little Mute carried her, turning several corners before stopping beside the courtyard wall of a residence.

Through the wall, scattered voices could be heard. Zhao Rongzhang stepped onto Guan Xuan’s arm, and with a lift from him, she grabbed onto the courtyard window. Peering into the yard, she soon spotted a figure both familiar and unfamiliar.

Zhao Rongzhang steadied her racing heart, thoughts flying through her mind, and quickly reached her hand downward. Little Mute seemed to read her mind—as soon as her hand extended, he placed several pebbles into her palm.

Zhao Rongzhang threw the pebbles toward Ming Luo. Ming Luo was extremely alert; as the pebbles cut through the air, she shot a sharp glance in their direction. The moment their eyes met, Zhao Rongzhang saw the vigilance and intensity in Ming Luo’s eyes instantly transform into delight.

“Thud!” The water bucket in Ming Luo’s hand was abruptly dropped as she rushed toward her, whispering urgently, “Your Highness!”

Seeing an old friend so suddenly, Zhao Rongzhang opened her mouth, but before a single word could escape, her eyes welled up with tears.

Ming Luo was the same, managing only to say after a long pause, “You’ve grown so thin…”

Ming Luo quickly opened the door, and Zhao Rongzhang jumped down from Guan Xuan’s arm, embracing her tightly.

Months apart had brought them through too much.

The two spoke tearfully and incoherently for a long while until Guan Xuan gently tugged at Zhao Rongzhang’s sleeve. Only then did she release Ming Luo slightly. “We shouldn’t stand here. Come with us!”

“I’m currently a maid for the Gao family, and there are several of our informants scattered under assumed names in households large and small throughout the city. None of us can leave easily.”

“That’s not difficult. Guan Xuan can create evidence that you drowned. No one will investigate deeply.”

Ming Luo looked at the tall, silent youth behind her.

This was the “Little Cat” the Princess had spoken of. When they had crossed paths yesterday, it had truly startled her, making her think the Grand Empress Dowager’s people had tracked them down.

Who would have thought that the Mysterious Cat, who struck fear into countless hearts, was actually such a fair-skinned, handsome, and beautiful youth?

Ming Luo cautiously declined the Princess’s suggestion. “There are many spies here too. It’s not wise to act rashly. Now that we’ve met, why rush? Your Highness, set a route for me, and I’ll come find you tonight to regroup.”

“Alone? I’m not at ease with that.”

“There’s no need to worry. Wherever you look, our people are there.”

Ming Luo was insistent, so Zhao Rongzhang had no choice but to agree.

The meeting point was finally set at a dilapidated ancestral hall. The family that owned the hall had been sealed off by the authorities earlier this year, with official notices plastered on the doors. Even beggars dared not take shelter there, making it relatively safe.

The hall wasn’t far. Little Mute carried the Princess and hurried over, arriving quickly.

After traveling through the night without rest, Zhao Rongzhang was exhausted, sleepy, and starving. The moment her head touched the rush cushion, she fell asleep.

She was deep in slumber when she suddenly felt warmth around her nose and mouth, followed by a rich, enticing aroma wafting into her nostrils. Groggily, she cracked open her eyes and saw a large, steaming shaobing (sesame flatbread) right in front of her.

Zhao Rongzhang propped herself up with Little Mute’s arm, grabbed the shaobing, and began eating. The moment she bit into it, the savory, salty, and crispy flavors of oil, salt, and flour exploded in her mouth. After chewing a few mouthfuls, she looked up at the sky—it was still afternoon, with plenty of time left before her scheduled meeting with Ming Luo.

Little Mute was tidying her hair again. Zhao Rongzhang shook her head. “It’ll get messy again when I sleep later. Don’t bother.”

A fire burned in the stove. Little Mute took out the buns the Princess had bought for him the day before, skewered them on a wooden stick, and held them over the flames to roast. He wasn’t as particular about his own food—once they were warmed through, he took them off.

Guan Xuan gazed at the sky beyond the spider silk. Dark clouds were slowly drifting away, revealing a watery blue expanse. He bit into the bun, and the refreshing sweetness of radish spread across his tongue. Happiness was filling his life.

Perhaps life would come to a halt in the not-too-distant future. This premonition had grown stronger since he knew he would see Ming Luo. But with Ming Luo here, the Princess would be safe.

A ball of oiled paper was suddenly tossed by the Princess from behind him into the stove with a “whoosh,” causing a brief, intense flare-up that vanished just as quickly.

The Princess pressed against his shoulder, squeezing in beside him, her eyes fixed on the bun in his hand. “Give me one. I’m still hungry.”

Guan Xuan smiled at her. Every time he saw her, he couldn’t help but smile—even if he held it back on his face, his heart couldn’t resist. He placed the remaining bun back over the fire to continue roasting and patiently gestured to explain, “The filling is still cold. Let it roast a little longer.”

Guan Xuan roasted the buns until they were perfectly crispy. Zhao Rongzhang ate them, no longer finding the radish flavor strange or the shredded meat smell fishy. She devoured two in a row. After eating her fill, she drank a bowl of water Little Mute had boiled, then hugged her warm, full belly and lay back on the rush cushion to sleep again.

When she woke up, it was almost completely dark. Little Mute was still tending the stove. Seeing her awake, he dug out two charcoal-like lumps from the ashes.

Peeling them open revealed a soft, flour-white interior. They were piping hot and incredibly fragrant. Little Mute said they were taro. Zhao Rongzhang didn’t care what they were—she was hungry and ate. Halfway through, a sound came from the back corner door of the ancestral hall.

Three quick knocks, followed by two slow ones, repeated. This was the secret signal she had arranged with Ming Luo.

Zhao Rongzhang moved the chair blocking the door and pulled it open just wide enough for a person to slip through. Peering through the crack, she was startled to see a “man” dressed as a waiter standing opposite. She quickly realized this “man” was Ming Luo.

Ming Luo squeezed through the door, and the Princess grew even more excited, throwing herself into a tight embrace.

Ming Luo patted her back and laughed. “The Princess wasn’t one to wear her emotions so openly before.”

The princess hugged Ming Luo and then let go, her hands still holding a half-peeled taro. The remaining half of the charred, muddy skin left her hands covered in ash, and her face was smudged as well. Guan Xuan stood in the corner, his eyes filled with an endless softness.

As soon as the two sat down, they had endless things to talk about. Zhao Rongzhang poked at the fire, wanting to peel a few taros for Ming Luo as well, but found none. She immediately turned around and asked Little Mute, “How many did you roast? Are there any left?”

The door pillars of the ancestral hall were tall, and speaking too loudly would create echoes. The firelight was limited, and turning around revealed only pitch-black darkness, with nothing visible except the crooked memorial tablets. Zhao Rongzhang’s heart sank slightly. As soon as Ming Luo returned, he had hidden himself away.

She said, “Come out.”

Little Mute’s figure reappeared in the firelight.

Amid the joy of Ming Luo’s return, Zhao Rongzhang felt a subtle unease toward him.

He had returned to the shadows where he belonged, and she actually felt somewhat unsettled by it.

Guan Xuan briefly met the princess’s gaze before turning away, walking to the cushion behind her, and pulling out several taros of varying sizes from underneath. He gently placed them in her hands.

The taros had been washed clean, round and cool to the touch. His fingertips brushed against her palm, equally cool. When she looked up, he was gone again.

Ming Luo continued sharing the various pieces of information she had gathered during her time in hiding, especially about Su Tan. Although she had been in contact with Su Tan, she wasn’t entirely certain whether Su Tan could be trusted completely.

The taros thrown into the fire gradually emitted a charred, fragrant aroma. Zhao Rongzhang fished them out, and Ming Luo hurriedly picked them up to peel for her.

Zhao Rongzhang thought of Little Mute peeling taros. His movements were always quick and precise, and as he peeled, he would lower his eyelids and gently blow on them. Some of his breath would brush against her face, like a kitten’s whiskers gently grazing her cheek.

“Speaking of which,” Ming Luo handed her the peeled taro and remembered something, “I’ve always felt that everything that’s happened to us along the way has been strange. I don’t know if I’m overthinking it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Even though Jiangnan is thousands of miles away from the capital city… but, have we escaped the Grand Empress Dowager’s grasp a little too easily?”