Chapter 66: Sulking: Making One’s Case

The air inside the litter instantly fell silent.

Suddenly called out, Yan Yiqing revealed a surprised and puzzled expression.

“Does Young Master Yan think I shouldn’t see her?” Zhao Huairen took her reaction as agreement. Her fingers tapped rhythmically on her knee as she spoke in a clear, low voice: “We’re still forty li from Yumu County. The relief convoy is already en route, yet this frail woman came alone… There are indeed many suspicious points about her.”

“No.” Yan Yiqing shook her head.

Zhao Huairen’s fingertips paused. “Hm?”

“The refugees are extremely weak. Forty li on foot… She might have collapsed along the way,” Yan Yiqing said, pursing her lips. She met Zhao Huairen’s gaze earnestly. “For her to push herself this far just to see the Heir Apparent once, the message she brings must be significant.”

“So you mean I should see her?”

Yan Yiqing furrowed her brows, steeling herself to argue her case with Zhao Huairen. “Yes.”

“I’ll follow your advice.” Zhao Huairen’s eyes flickered as she withdrew her gaze from Yan Yiqing. She turned her head toward Zhuyu and said, “Go give the order. Have the Jinwu Guards let that lady through.”

Zhuyu glanced at Yan Yiqing before nodding and departing.

Yan Yiqing hadn’t expected her to adopt her suggestion so directly. Surprise flashed through her dark eyes as she hesitated. “The Heir Apparent won’t reconsider?”

“My thinking aligns perfectly with yours,” Zhao Huairen said.

“Aligns perfectly?” Yan Yiqing mulled over the words, her fine brows arching slightly with a hint of playfulness at the tips. “But from what the Heir Apparent said earlier, it seemed… you didn’t really want to see her?”

“You held back for so long without speaking. I assumed you found her behavior suspicious and wanted to hear your thoughts,” Zhao Huairen met her gaze candidly, her voice warm. “If I’d said from the start that I wanted to see her, you wouldn’t have been able to speak your mind freely.”

“What if I’d said the Heir Apparent shouldn’t see her—”

Zhao Huairen interrupted. “Then I’d hear Young Master Yan’s reasons. If they made sense, I’d adopt them.”

“Why?” Yan Yiqing asked instinctively.

Why care about my opinion?

As the Disaster Relief Envoy, Huairen holds absolute authority to decide.

She swallowed those two words. Zhao Huairen calmly pursed her lips. “Young Master Yan and I hold the same rank. This concerns Yumu County, so I should consult your view anyway.”

Yan Yiqing pursed her lips, thinking: Fair enough. After all, she sees me as a sister.

“Is Young Master Yan in a bad mood today?” Noticing her low spirits, Zhao Huairen asked.

Yan Yiqing lifted her eyelids to glance at her. The look in her eyes was complex and profound, like a torrential downpour in the rainy season—humid and scorching.

Out of habit, she lied. “No, it’s just too hot.”

“It’ll be cooler inside the carriage.”

Yan Yiqing’s eyes lit up at the words, but she soon drooped her head sheepishly.

Huairen had only said the carriage was cooler.

Not that she was inviting her to ride together.

“What I mean is,” Seeing Yan Yiqing not follow up, Zhao Huairen’s fingers unconsciously tightened. Her heart skipped slightly, though nothing showed on her face. “If Young Master Yan doesn’t mind… you could ride with me these next few days.”

Her obsidian pupils suddenly widened. Joy she couldn’t hide bloomed on Yan Yiqing’s face. She opened her mouth to agree—just as Zhuyu happened to enter the carriage.

It was like a pebble shattering the lake’s surface.

Ripples spread through the water, swallowing the faint sweetness.

Her long lashes concealed the emotions in the woman’s eyes. Zhao Huairen looked up at Zhuyu and asked flatly, “What happened?”

Unaware of the odd atmosphere in the carriage, Zhuyu gestured: That lady fainted.

“Where’s the army doctor?” Zhao Huairen’s thin lips pursed. After a pause, she issued calm instructions. “Send the army doctor to treat her first. Yumu County is suffering famine. For her to travel this far alone… Have the cooks prepare a bowl of hot porridge for her.”

Zhuyu ran through Zhao Huairen’s words in her mind and nodded: What then, after she wakes?

“Bring her to see me right away,” Zhao Huairen said.

Zhuyu cupped her hands and withdrew.

With her gone, only the two women remained in the carriage.

Yan Yiqing stared down at her palm, her nails grinding repeatedly over the thin callus, leaving white marks on her fingertips. Right now, relief efforts were paramount. Compared to that, her own feelings seemed insignificant.

She took a deep breath, forcing distracting thoughts aside. Softly, she reminded, “This woman went to great lengths just to plead her case to the Heir Apparent, yet she fainted immediately after getting permission.”

“She’s testing me,” Zhao Huairen said.

Yan Yiqing wasn’t surprised by her perceptiveness and nodded. “Exactly.”

“What she wants me to know is crucial to her,” Zhao Huairen said, her phoenix eyes lowering slightly. Her slender hand rested on the teapot as she slowly poured a cup for Yan Yiqing. “If I weren’t willing to help, letting me know would make her situation even worse than it is now. So she needs to know what kind of person I am.”

“As long as the Heir Apparent has it figured out.” Yan Yiqing lifted the teacup.

The carriage wheels crunched over the hazy dust.

The faint rustling was the only sound inside.

Invisible ants gnawed at Yan Yiqing’s insides, bite by tiny bite, riddling her whole being with holes that let the wind whistle through.

No matter why Huairen extended the invitation.

Even if it was just politeness, she had to seize every opportunity.

Gathering her courage, Yan Yiqing said, “I…”

“Young Master Yan still hasn’t answered my earlier question.”

Question? What had Huairen asked?

She must have been too lost in thought to hear.

Heat rose to her cheeks. Yan Maomao scratched her ear root and feigned composure. “What did the Heir Apparent ask? I didn’t catch it.”

A subtle amusement flickered in her light brown eyes—too fleeting for most to notice. Having savored Yan Yiqing’s inner conflict enough, Zhao Huairen sipped her tea lightly. “Do you want to ride with me?”

Ride with her?

Yan Yiqing’s gaze went vacant as she stared at her blankly.

Her fingers were even more delicate than the porcelain cup. The rounded rim hid the curve of her lips as Zhao Huairen gazed at her with gentle brows and eyes. “Didn’t you say it was too hot outside?”

Her phoenix eyes reflected Yan Yiqing’s figure.

They were so close. The air felt soft, maddeningly so.

Unbidden fantasies bubbled up. Yan Yiqing bit her tongue hard, clenched her fists, and forced her gaze away.

Huairen hadn’t forgotten.

She was so gentle today.

Why? Is being sisters supposed to come with perks like this…?

“If Young Master Yan doesn’t want to—”

“I do.” The clear female voice snapped her back. The little cat played it cool, though the flush spread from her cheeks to her ears.

The shy redness seemed contagious. Zhao Huairen maintained her poise, but her earlobes, hidden in shadow, turned adorably pink. “Good.”

They kept their original distance.

But the air in the carriage subtly shifted, without a word.

—

Noon approached. The grand procession paused briefly at the mountain’s base to rest.

Each step sent stabbing pain through her.

The woman gritted her teeth and limped after Zhuyu.

Noticing her staggering steps from the corner of her eye, Zhuyu frowned but didn’t dare slow too much. The relief convoy would only stop here briefly. While everyone ate, the Heir Apparent would hear her plea.

If she wanted to explain everything clearly.

She couldn’t waste time here.

She clutched a bloodstained sheet of mulberry paper. Emaciated as she was, a fierce light burned in her eyes. Days of travel had worn her soles raw, the wounds screaming with every step, yet she made no sound.

Her dangling fingertips tightened.

Zhuyu suddenly halted and turned back to her.

Seeing this, the woman swallowed and said ingratiatingly, “I can keep up. No need for the lady to accommodate me.”

Deep down, she wasn’t one for charity, but this woman reminded her of her past self.

Zhuyu’s face darkened as she walked over, squatted, and effortlessly scooped her up in a bridal carry.

The sensation of being airborne stunned the woman.

She hadn’t expected this silent woman to carry her.

Their pace quickened. Clutching the mulberry paper, the woman murmured, “Thank you for your help, lady.”

Zhuyu glanced down at her.

Then looked away, her expression unchanged.

…

Seeing Yan Yiqing’s gaze on her behind, Zhao Huairen turned to follow it, surprise flickering in her eyes.

Zhuyu bent to set the woman down.

She straightened and walked steadily to stand before Zhao Huairen.

“Why did you carry her over?” Zhao Huairen looked up.

Zhuyu’s face remained impassive as she gestured: Her feet are injured. She walks too slowly.

Only then did the woman understand Zhuyu’s gestures.

This lady didn’t refuse to speak to her—she couldn’t speak.

“Mm. Go eat something first.” Zhao Huairen handed Zhuyu some dry rations and turned to the sallow, gaunt woman, softening her tone. “What’s your name? Are you from Yumu County?”

The broad mountainside blocked the blazing sun.

Yet the immortal-like figure seated on the rock dazzled more than the sun.

Her skin was as white as freshly ground tofu, her nose bridge a clean, pretty curve. Her crow-wing lashes cast twin shadows beneath her eyes, making her seem distant—yet her voice was as gentle as moonlight on a river.

“Cough cough!” Yan Yiqing wrinkled her nose and interjected, “What’s your name? The Disaster Relief Envoy is asking you.”

Before seeing Zhao Huairen.

She had hesitated, fearing corrupt officials.

But after seeing her.

She thought immortals probably didn’t harm people.

She dropped to her knees with a thud, like a withered rice stalk, her voice hoarse. “This humble commoner, this woman… this woman is Hong Xiujie, from Willow Tree Ditch in Yumu County.”

“Stand and speak.”

Her anxious heart finally settled. This lord was the first official to tell her to stand while talking. Hong Xiujie drew a deep breath and kowtowed heavily. “Please, my lord, grant justice! My mother is dying!”

“I’m no healer.” Her light brown eyes were clear and detached, piercing straight to the heart. Zhao Huairen’s gaze fell on her bloodied soles. “Even if you hadn’t come, once the relief convoy enters the city, a physician would treat your mother.”

“All bodily ills stem from ills of the heart. Only my lord can cure my mother’s heart ailment.” Hong Xiujie shook her head gently. Her cracked lips were bloodless, her gaze on Zhao Huairen holding all her hope.

Exchanging a glance with Yan Yiqing, Zhao Huairen knitted her brows. “Get to the point.”

Grateful for the chance to plead, tears welled in Hong Xiujie’s eyes. Lost in memory, her nails dug deep into the dirt. “My lord… A month ago, the river breached the dike and flooded half the county.”

The crops in the fields were all destroyed.

The granaries soaked, the rotten wheat inedible even by rats.

The county opened relief granaries, but each household got only half a bowl of bran chaff. Boiled with water, it burned the stomach like fire, leaving them sleepless with hunger night after night.

“Hungry to the point we couldn’t even fart. We’d open our eyes counting days till death.”

At this, Yan Yiqing’s brows darkened. She’d lived such days—the siege of Youzhou City had been the same.

Crimson flames devoured soldiers’ flesh. Hunger and the dread of the city’s fall chased like a tiger at their heels. One slip, and it dragged you into the abyss.

Corpses littered the ground.

Hell itself.

“Then, before the court’s relief grain arrived, people from Changlin County came…”

Her teeth ground audibly. Hong Xiujie’s breath quickened, but she forced out, “They beat gongs and drums recruiting workers, promising food and three hundred wen a month.”

At “Changlin County,” cold glints flashed in both women’s eyes.

“I’ve been frail since childhood. My brother is crippled, with the mind of a five-year-old.”

“Any longer, and the whole family would starve. Father took Brother to sign up. The Changlin runners gave two taels of silver as settling money on the spot.” Hong Xiujie trembled, her bony spine pressing through thin cloth, her voice fragmented. “But half a month passed… They vanished into thin air. No word from anyone who went.”

“What about the court’s relief funds?” Zhao Huairen’s expression grew grave. She knew Yumu County’s disaster was severe, but separated by hundreds of li, reports were filtered layer by layer—she hadn’t realized it was this dire.

Mud squeezed into the cracks between her nails and flesh, forcing Hong Xiujie to purse her lips tightly. She squeezed the words out through clenched teeth: “The court’s disaster relief funds had arrived, but the county only distributed thin gruel—gruel so watery you could see your reflection in it, mixed with sand and dirt.”

“The court sent grain last time. If he wasn’t using it for relief, where did all that grain go?” As the Si Nong Temple Junior Minister, Yan Yiqing had a deeper understanding of disaster details and instantly seized on the suspicious point.

She had spent years immersed in the glint of blades and shadows of blood.

The woman’s face filled with sullen anger, her aura pressing down so heavily that it left people breathless.

Hong Xiujie swallowed hard, looking timidly toward Zhao Huairen and asking cautiously, “May I ask, Disaster Relief Envoy, who is this?”

“She is the Si Nong Temple Junior Minister, traveling with me for the relief efforts,” Zhao Huairen replied, her thin lips pressed into a straight line, her voice low and clearly suppressing her rage. “Don’t be afraid. Continue.”

“The county yamen’s constables said the court’s silver and grain were all used for repairing the dams. Later, the county magistrate ordered…” Her eyes filled with self-blame, Hong Xiujie choked out, “Every household had to provide full labor. If you didn’t go, you’d be cut off from rations.”

“I was too weak for heavy labor, so my mother took on two people’s share to protect me.”

Digging soil by day, pounding stones by night.

Her nails tore open, her palms ground raw and bloody.

“Your mother’s heartache was for your father and brothers?” Seeing her sink into sorrow, Zhao Huairen asked in a clear, crisp voice, pulling her thoughts back.

Hong Xiujie nodded, her voice heavy with grief: “Mother wanted to hold on like this… waiting for them to return. Things would get better bit by bit. But a few days ago, someone who escaped from Changlin County crawled back to the village entrance. He lay there like a dying dog, mumbling—”

“Don’t go to Changlin County.”

“It’s… hell. Life worse than death.”

Under the relentless blows, the last taut string in her heart snapped completely. Her mother, already at the end of her strength, spiked a high fever that very night and coughed up blood the next day.

She had never seen her mother like that.

Her mother, who had been like a mountain, collapsed with a crash.

Hong Xiujie’s tears seemed endless, fat droplets streaming down her cheeks nonstop. She looked up at Zhao Huairen and held out the mottled mulberry paper. “The village doctor said it’s a heart ailment for Mother. Unless Father and my brothers return… she won’t survive the summer.”

“I went to the county yamen for help, but they beat me out.”

“They said my father was a fugitive refugee who died somewhere and no one would care, then they seized our household register and struck us from the rolls.”

Hearing all this, a heavy boulder pressed down on Zhao Huairen’s heart. Her throat went dry, her eyes complex and profoundly dark.

People without household registration were no better than black householders.

They couldn’t receive rations, couldn’t own property—indistinguishable from slaves.

Countless people in Yumu County had died or been injured.

Stripping household registration and seizing the register turned them into living dead.

She hadn’t come to Yumu County just for relief efforts; she had other motives, even planning to exploit Changlin County’s loopholes in a deal with Prince Gong—but looking at the woman before her.

Could she refuse?

She simply couldn’t say the words.