Chapter 41: Visitor on a Rainy Night

And so, Yan Ziyu settled into the General’s Manor along with Ruier. Because she possessed such a terrifying and dangerous weapon, General Yan and the others did not dare to wander anywhere near her for their own safety, terrified that if she grew even slightly displeased, she might toss out a couple of those devices, leaving them without even a whole corpse remaining.

As dusk approached, Yan Ziyu sat by the window holding Ruier, waiting for Meizi to bring dinner back from the kitchens. However, they waited for a long time without a sign of Meizi. Just as Yan Ziyu’s remaining patience was about to wear thin and Ruier’s stomach had been rumbling for quite a while, Meizi finally appeared, moving at a snail's pace.

At the sight of her, Yan Ziyu froze in astonishment!

Meizi had merely gone to the kitchens to fetch dinner; how on earth had she ended up in this state? It looked as though she had gotten into a violent brawl—not only was she covered in dirt from head to toe, but her hair was disheveled like a lunatic’s, her delicate little face was swollen up like a steamed bun, and several leaves were stuck in her hair. Her appearance was utterly wretched and bedraggled.

Yan Ziyu questioned her closely about what had happened. At first, Meizi refused to speak, but when Yan Ziyu grew angry and lost her temper, Meizi stammered out the whole story.

It turned out that when she went to the kitchen to collect their meal, the harridans working there had bullied her. Not only did they refuse to give her their dinner, but they had also subjected her to a harsh beating. Meizi was naturally petite and could hardly fight back against them, so she had no choice but to return in this battered and injured state.

"If a tiger doesn't roar, they really take me for a little kitten!" Yan Ziyu’s voice was icy, her narrowed eyes blazing with fury.

Hearing Meizi’s account only fueled Yan Ziyu’s anger further. Her bad temper from hunger, combined with a belly full of rage, was enough to make even Meizi feel a twinge of fear just looking at the Princess Consort.

Ruier tugged at Meizi, who was shrinking back. "Sister, don't move around. Ruier will put some medicine on for you."

Watching Ruier’s practiced movements as he applied the ointment, his careful and adorable expression, Meizi felt a pang of heartache. Even though he was the esteemed eldest legitimate son of the Prince’s Estate, his medicine-applying skills were so practiced it showed how much hardship he had endured in the past.

Before long, Ruier finished applying the medicine to Meizi’s injuries, had her change into a fresh set of clothes, and then the three of them—along with Ruier’s pet, Xiaobai—headed toward the kitchens.

...

About the time it takes to burn a stick of incense, they emerged. Xiaobai, nestled in Ruier’s arms, was licking its paws, looking utterly satisfied and stuffed.

Behind them came the ceaseless wailing and shouting from the kitchen. A filthy, plump woman chased after them, clutching a kitchen cleaver, her face red and neck thick with rage as she roared at the backs of Yan Ziyu and the others: "You little beast, get your ass back here! I’ll carve you up—"

"Whom did you just call a little beast?"

Yan Ziyu raised her head, her eyes devoid of the slightest emotion, and cast an icy, frost-like gaze upon the woman. Her voice carried a trace of terrifying, murderous aura.

"I... I didn't... I wasn't calling anyone..."

Meeting Yan Ziyu’s freezing, emotionless eyes, the woman felt a sudden chill run through her heart and gasped for breath. She hurriedly dropped the kitchen cleaver, stammering and shaking her head so violently she could no longer form a coherent sentence.

"Use your brain a little when you speak next time. Don't eat so much beastly food that you forget how to speak human words. Remember, illness enters through the mouth, and disaster comes from the tongue!" Yan Ziyu had no desire to bicker with such vulgar and ignorant women; it was entirely meaningless.

Following the commotion Yan Ziyu caused, everyone in the General’s Manor—except for the occupants of her room—ended up eating boiled noodles for dinner. There was simply no alternative: all the ingredients in the kitchen had been destroyed by the cat Ruier kept. It was far too late to go out and buy more, so they had to make the simplest and most convenient noodles, otherwise the entire household would have gone hungry.

The night was hazy and dim!

Yan Ziyu sat by the window under the lamplight, holding a picture book and gently telling a story to Ruier. Under the yellowish glow of the oil lamp, Yan Ziyu’s raven hair hung loosely, and her snowy white dress made her look impossibly pure and ethereal. Ruier’s rosy, adorable little face resembled the golden boy by the side of the Goddess of Mercy—he was supremely cute.

"Mother, what does 'returning a peach for a plum' mean?" Ruier asked, looking up and blinking his wide, watery eyes with a puzzled expression as he encountered a new idiom in the story.

"To 'return a peach for a plum' means that one must carry a heart of gratitude in life. If someone gives you a peach, you should reciprocate with a plum. Friends should interact with one another, and knowing how to share is what brings true happiness," Yan Ziyu explained patiently, never missing an opportunity to instill correct values in Ruier.

"Oh, Ruier understands now! Mother, please go on with the story!"

"Once upon a time, there was a very clever old man who made a talking wooden puppet. Every time that wooden puppet told a lie, its nose would grow longer..." Yan Ziyu began to recount some fairy tales from her previous life. Ruier listened with wide eyes, completely losing all sleepiness. The more he listened, the more energized and excited he became...

"Mother, that wooden puppet is so amazing, defeating the bad guys. One day, Ruier will become very, very strong and beat up all the bad guys who bully Mother. Ruier will protect Mother." Ruier looked at her with a thoroughly earnest little face.

"Good boy, Mother believes you. It's getting late, hurry up and go to bed!" It would be a lie to say she wasn't moved, but she couldn't possibly burst into tears in front of a child, could she?

Yan Ziyu coaxed him repeatedly, but Ruier refused to go to bed, pestering her to tell a few more stories. Left with no choice, Yan Ziyu told him a couple more. As the second watch of the night approached, Ruier finally began to grow drowsy. Just as Yan Ziyu gently placed the half-asleep boy onto the bed, she heard a commotion coming from outside the window.

What was that sound?

She turned around and saw that the window, which had been tightly shut, was now open. A rich, pungent smell of blood drifted into the room. She frowned slightly; why would there be such a heavy stench of blood in the middle of the night?

After waiting a moment, the smell of blood did not dissipate; instead, it grew even more intense, accompanied by a foul odor. She could almost conclude that whoever was out there was not only severely injured but also poisoned.

"Mother, Ruier wants to come with you." Just as Yan Ziyu intended to go check out the situation outside the window, Ruier woke up from somewhere, tightly clutching the hem of her garment with a serious expression.

Why did Ruier have to wake up? Yan Ziyu frowned. If she went alone, she could at least protect herself, but bringing Ruier along was far too dangerous. The thought of going out the window instantly vanished from her mind—nothing was more important than Ruier’s safety!

"Such a familiar scent... Mother, I smell Prince Daddy's scent!" Ruier’s innocent voice rang out.

Yan Ziyu’s brow furrowed even deeper. Someone connected to Long Xiaoyan—should she go out, or should she not?

After a brief hesitation, she still stood up, took Ruier’s little hand, opened the door, and walked out.

Perhaps this might turn out to be a new breakthrough!

...

Stepping outside, the courtyard was pitch black. The only source of light came from the oil lamp in Yan Ziyu’s hand. Following the trail of the bloody scent, they finally discovered a huddled dark figure in the corner outside the window, curled up and almost blending into the night.

Drawing closer, Yan Ziyu frowned. The assassin in black was not unconscious; instead, he was enduring agonizing pain as he leaned against the wall, making very faint sounds of suffering.

"Mother, it's Uncle Wu! Can we help him? He looks so pitiful..." Even though the man in black wore night-crawling garments and a veil, Ruier still managed to recognize his identity instantly through his unique intuition, and pleaded with his kind-hearted mother to save him.

Yan Ziyu hesitated deeply in her heart: should she save him, or not?