“M… many thanks…” the female supporting character managed to say. The moment the words left her mouth, she realized how severely she was trembling. Shaking uncontrollably, she tried to express her gratitude. Not daring to look at the fallen thugs around her, she scrambled frantically, trying to crawl towards Tang Qi.
Seeing the other person was unharmed, Tang Qi turned to leave. The female supporting character froze for a heartbeat, then scrambled to her feet. Stumbling and staggering, she followed.
She clutched her torn clothes together with one hand, dragging her injured leg, limping along behind Tang Qi.
The biting wind and yellow sand buffeted her body and face. The pustules on her skin stung fiercely from the sand and wind. She reached out to shield her cheeks from the cold blast, but had to immediately drop her hand back down to hold her tattered clothing.
The System felt a pang of sympathy. “Host,” it said quietly, “she’s following behind you.”
Tang Qi gave no reaction. Saving the woman was simply because she couldn’t stand by and watch such an atrocity. It wasn’t out of a desire for gratitude, and she certainly didn’t want to be pestered by the girl. Especially by someone connected to the World Line.
She walked straight home and shut the door without hesitation. The door closed, shutting everything outside away.
Tang Qi had walked quickly. The female supporting character’s left leg was badly injured. Seeing Tang Qi getting farther and farther away, a wave of panic inexplicably washed over her. Fortunately, Tang Qi’s home wasn’t far; she hadn’t lost sight of her. With great effort, she finally shuffled her way to the doorway of this small, thatched hut.
The north wind howled, making her shiver violently. The wounds on her body throbbed with a deep, bone-aching pain, but she could only bite back her tears and endure. Gripping her thin clothes tightly, she curled herself up as small as possible in the doorway. This tiny corner, sheltered from the worst of the wind, was her only source of warmth.
She didn’t know if what she was doing was right or wrong. But since this person had saved her, it meant they weren’t a villain. It was better than going back to face those brutes. Otherwise, even if she escaped tonight, what about tomorrow? And the day after?
Tang Qi went straight to bed after returning home. When she woke, it was already past midnight. Getting up for a drink of water, she discovered the water vat was empty.
She decided to go out to the well for more. Reaching the door, she reached to open it. “Wait a moment—” the System started urgently, but it was too late.
Tang Qi opened the door. The female supporting character, who had been leaning against it, tumbled inside in a heap.
Scrambling to her feet, she couldn’t suppress a few small, pained hisses due to her injuries.
Under the moonlight, Tang Qi saw the girl’s lips, blue and purple from the cold. And in that same light, Luo Xu finally got a clear look at Tang Qi’s face.
Clothes patched all over, but cleanly washed. Slightly long hair tied up high. A full forehead, a high-bridged nose. Even the pervasive yellow sand couldn’t diminish her striking handsomeness. The exposed skin was rough, somewhat darkened by the elements. If born in the Central Plains, this appearance would surely win hearts, the female supporting character thought to herself.
“You should go home,” Tang Qi stated, her voice flat and emotionless.
Surprised that Tang Qi was a woman, the female supporting character quickly pushed aside her astonishment. She bowed with meticulous courtesy, trying to make her hoarse, broken voice sound better, but it was futile. The grating sound echoed in the small space. “This humble girl is named Luo Xu. Many thanks to my benefactor for saving my life. I was framed, exiled here. I am no villain! Please, Benefactor, save my life. In the future, I will repay you, even if it means working like an ox or a horse…”
After speaking for a while and receiving no reaction from Tang Qi, she looked up, confused. Under the moonlight, she could only see Tang Qi’s bright, clear eyes. Those beautiful phoenix eyes now held an emotion she couldn’t decipher—something like nostalgia, something like pain.
Not daring to look further, Luo Xu heard Tang Qi’s voice, strained as if each word was forced out with great effort, trembling slightly. “You… Your surname is Luo?”
Looking at the bowed woman, a sharp pang shot through Tang Qi’s nose. Memories crashed back into her heart, the suppressed emotions surging forth. Sweet moments flashed through her mind incessantly. Although it was only a century, it was the first hundred years in her eons-long life where she had truly lived for herself.
Yet these memories relentlessly reminded her: Luo Xue was gone. Across countless planes, countless universes, where could she even begin to search?
She didn’t know what her feelings for Luo Xue were. But she was intimately, painfully aware of the sorrow of loss.
“…Yes, this humble girl’s surname is Luo.” Not knowing why Tang Qi asked this, or if it was good or bad, Luo Xu replied uneasily, anxiously awaiting Tang Qi’s answer.
Tang Qi closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, the confusion was hidden. “What is it you’re asking of me?”
“…Please, Benefactor, grant me shelter.” Luo Xu knew her request was excessive. She looked up, but immediately lowered her head, fearing her face would frighten Tang Qi. “I can do any kind of work. I only beg for a patch of earth and a mouthful of food. When spring comes, I’ll find work in town and repay the money…”
Before she could finish, Tang Qi stepped aside. “Come in.”
Luo Xu hadn’t expected Tang Qi to agree so readily. As if in a dream, she walked into this simple, somewhat crude room. Immediately, a wave of warmth washed over her; she noticed the fire still burning in the stove.
The firelight banished the darkness of the small hut. It was the first warmth she’d felt on this entire journey of exile. Quickly lowering her head, Luo Xu asked, “Benefactor, is there any task you’d have me do?”
“…No.” Tang Qi didn’t want to interact with anyone. But the moment she heard the other’s surname, her mind had, for an instant, refused to listen to reason. The words were out before she could stop them, and now she felt a flicker of regret.
But she wasn’t one to go back on her word. “Do as you please,” she said, then walked out the door. Luo Xu hurried after her to the doorway, terrified that Tang Qi was leaving and she’d be set upon by villains again.
But Tang Qi simply went to the well in front of the house, drew a bucket of water, and drank deeply like a cow. Then she sat on a nearby stone, staring blankly at the moon.
Luo Xu was at a loss. She didn’t know if she had upset Tang Qi. Turning around inside the room, she saw the water vat was empty. Gritting her teeth, she stepped outside again, went to the well, and asked, “Benefactor, may I have this water?”
When Tang Qi didn’t answer, Luo Xu took it as silent consent. Ignoring the pain in her leg, she hoisted the bucket with effort back to the room. She heated the water in a pot over the stove, found a washbasin and cloth, poured in the hot water, and carefully carried it over to Tang Qi.
Tang Qi looked at her, slightly puzzled, not understanding what Luo Xu was doing.
Keeping her head bowed as much as possible, Luo Xu held the basin up high. “It’s late, Benefactor. Washing your face with warm water will help you sleep better,” she said softly.
Her arms holding the basin trembled slightly—not from fear, nor grievance, but from pain.
Since the last world, the System had become a steadfast member of the “female supporting character faction.” It nudged the unresponsive Tang Qi. “Host, are you really going to just let her hold that basin?”
Snapping out of her thoughts, Tang Qi took the basin from her hands. “You don’t have to do this.”
Luo Xu remained silent. The long journey of exile had taught her the harshness of human relationships. To survive, she was willing to do anything. Be a servant, a slave—anything. She just wanted to live! Only by living could she seek to overturn her case and clear her name!
She had to show the other party her value to be worthy of being kept.
The water in the basin reflected the moon, which shattered into scattered fragments as it rippled. Tang Qi closed her eyes briefly, then stood. “Let’s go back inside.”
Forget it. Since she couldn’t bring herself to throw the girl out, she’d just let her stay, then leave herself when spring arrived.
Once inside, Tang Qi put the basin down. “Wash up and rest when you need to.” The heated brick bed wasn’t small, plenty of room for two. Tang Qi settled into a corner of the bed fully clothed, closed her eyes, and feigned sleep, leaving the rest of the space for Luo Xu.
Luo Xu stayed silent at the side. She watched Tang Qi close her eyes, her own gaze shifting towards the still-warm water. Ultimately, she couldn’t resist. Moving as silently as possible, she crept over and submerged her frostbite-covered hands into the warmth.
“Ss—” The stinging pain of the water on her wounds made her involuntarily gasp. She quickly glanced at Tang Qi, but Tang Qi’s eyes remained closed. A little relieved, she carefully began to clean her face.
Her body was covered in cracks and fissures from the cold, dry air, some areas even marked with traces of blood. The stimulation of the water made her shiver uncontrollably.
Perhaps it was the pain, or perhaps it was the first feeling of warmth in so long, but without realizing it, tears welled up in her eyes.
Her quiet sobs reached Tang Qi’s ears. Tang Qi acted as if she hadn’t heard. “…Host…” the System started to say, before being unceremoniously tossed into the Dark Room.
The System felt a wave of bliss: Ah, truly a long-missed Dark Room.
Luo Xu hurried through a simple washing. After hesitating briefly, she found a clear spot on the floor near the stove, sat down, and pressed her hand tightly against her abdomen, trying to ease the agonizing cramps from hunger. Yet, she didn’t reach for any of the food visible on the stovetop, even though it was within arm’s reach. She just leaned against the wall, feeling the glow of the fire, and slowly closed her eyes.
The moment Luo Xu closed her eyes, Tang Qi opened hers. In the firelight, she could see Luo Xu’s small, curled-up form. Seeing the girl had no intention of using the bed, Tang Qi didn’t concern herself with it. She simply lay down properly and fell asleep.
The night passed without incident. Tang Qi slept soundly.
Tang Qi’s identity as a woman gave Luo Xu an immense sense of security. Unknowingly, she drifted into a hazy dream.
“It wasn’t me! I didn’t poison her! Chengfeng, you have to believe me, it truly wasn’t me…” Luo Xu’s face was streaked with tears, her hand clutching Zhao Chengfeng’s clothes, knuckles white from the force.
Zhao Chengfeng’s eyes, once so full of affection, were now filled with profound disappointment. He threw the official document in his hand at her face, the paper stinging her cheek. “This is the investigation report from the Chief Minister of the Dali Temple! What else do you have to say? Are you suggesting the Dali Temple framed you?”
“No! It was Nalan Xue who asked me to go there! She was already poisoned by the time I arrived! I didn’t do anything!” Luo Xu didn’t know how to explain. Looking at Zhao Chengfeng’s disappointed face, she felt a knife twist in her heart. “The Dali Temple must have made a mistake. We’ve known each other for years, been in love for so long… You know what kind of person I am!”
“How can I believe you now?” Zhao Chengfeng forcefully pulled his clothes from her grasp. “Luo Xu, it’s not that I won’t save you. You brought this upon yourself with your own venomous heart. I never imagined you could be so malicious. I misjudged you!”
“I didn’t do it! It really wasn’t me!” Luo Xu knelt on the ground, tears streaming from her eyes, muttering as if in a trance. She crawled forward a few steps, trying to catch up to Zhao Chengfeng, who was already walking away. She reached out to grab him, but caught only air. She could only scream with all her might, “You said you would always trust me, no matter what! Everyone under heaven could doubt me, but I only needed your trust!”
Zhao Chengfeng’s retreating figure never paused, swiftly vanishing into the distance.
“Luo… Luo Xu!” Tang Qi called out to the dreaming girl.
Luo Xu’s eyes flew open. She reached up to touch her face; it was soaked with tears.
Realizing Tang Qi was calling her, she scrambled to get up. But she moved too hastily and collapsed, landing on her hands and knees. “Benefactor! You… you’re awake. I’ll start the fire and cook immediately.”
Tang Qi’s gaze settled on her injured left leg. Based on experience, the leg looked like it had been broken by a heavy object and left untreated all this way.
The System muttered quietly: This Luo girl is injured.
Tang Qi’s body stiffened almost imperceptibly. She turned away, refusing to look at Luo Xu. “I’ve already made breakfast. Eat.”
Luo Xu stared wide-eyed at the porridge on the table—coarse rice mixed with millet, the little millet grains looking lovely and yellow. A side dish of pickled vegetables was also there. She couldn’t help but lick her lips. Catching herself in such a display of longing, she quickly lowered her head.
Since leaving the Capital, she hadn’t eaten anything decent. She knew which tree bark could be swallowed, which wild herbs weren’t poisonous. But she had long since forgotten the taste of real food.
The fragrant aroma of the rice porridge tantalized her taste buds. It took every ounce of her willpower not to lunge at it. “No need. Just some water will be fine for me.”
“Eat…” Tang Qi started to say, ‘Eat so you have strength.’ But suddenly, the image of Luo Xue flashed in her mind—Luo Xue wrinkling her cute nose, her expression charming and coquettish, voice soft. ‘You’re my wife now! Only allowed to sweet-talk me!’
Even though it was just playful pouting, Tang Qi back then had still pinched her nose, smiling. ‘Alright.’
The impact of the memory made Tang Qi’s intended words twist on her tongue. “If you don’t eat, you can go back to your own house.”
Luo Xu stared intensely at the porridge. Finally, unable to hold back any longer, she lunged forward, grabbed the bowl, and practically poured the contents into her mouth.
