Volume One, Chapter 19: Whatever Xiangzhu Likes, He Buys for Her

Page 1/3

Zhao Ye restrained his grip, careful not to squeeze the bamboo slip too hard. Yet, overwhelmed by shock, he whispered the name “Mu Xingyuan.” The bamboo slip’s lashes twitched slightly, masking her surprise with a soft groan of pain.

Could it really be Duke Dingguo’s only legitimate grandson, Mu Xingyuan?

Twenty-five years ago, the Mongnu Kingdom frequently launched raids on Mohe City, the border town of the Haohan Kingdom. The Duke had led his eldest son, daughter-in-law, and grandson to defend Mohe City, but nearly all perished in the wilderness.

Mu Xingyuan was the sole surviving male of the Mu family, rescued by his mother, Lady Mu San, who, despite her weakened state after childbirth, gathered the remaining soldiers and dug him out from the piles of corpses.

Back then, Mu Xingyuan was not yet six, buried under the bodies of many Mohe townsfolk, barely clinging to life. Lady Mu San, after arranging coffins for her kin, collapsed beside the coffin containing her husband’s fragmented remains. Blood flowed beneath her and stained Mu Xingyuan’s black boots.

This was all Xiangzhu knew, having overheard elder palace maids discussing it quietly when she first entered the palace. At that time, she wondered—if Lady Mu San had just given birth, where was the newborn?

“Yuanbao, stop at the clinic nearby,” Zhao Ye’s command pulled Xiangzhu back to reality.

Yuanbao steadied the carriage and apologized, “Fourth Young Master, just now some street vendors were quarreling and pushing each other, spilling onto the road. I tried to avoid the crowd, which caused...”

Zhao Ye motioned for him to stop speaking. Once Xiangzhu dismounted, he entered the street clinic with her.

The doctor examined Xiangzhu’s wrist carefully and muttered, “Miss, your wrist has suffered a lot today. If you continue to neglect it, lifting heavy things later will become difficult.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Xiangzhu replied. She was somewhat versed in medicine and knew her injuries weren’t severe individually. But her wrist bone had been dislocated and reset without proper medicine, followed by successive impacts that nearly drove jade fragments through tendons. She would need to rest thoroughly until fully healed.

“Hmm?” The doctor probed the bleeding wound with his tool.

Zhao Ye anxiously asked, “Did it injure the tendons?”

“Almost, I thought a sharp fragment would have lodged in the wound, but I found none.”

Zhao Ye wanted to say more but then recalled that Xiangzhu had hidden the broken white jade chess piece in her sleeve, which may have pressed against the wound during the collision.

Could it be she had taken the broken jade piece back again?

Suppressing the urge to question her, Zhao Ye gently said, “Let’s bandage her and apply medicine first.”

Page 2/3

Outside the clinic, Xiangzhu’s attention was drawn to the bustling market. When her foster father had found her on a desolate mountain, he had nursed her with goat’s milk or rice paste, saving her life. Then she was raised by a childless couple who had kept her close, hoping that as she grew, she would see them as her true parents and forget about her adoption.

Indeed, Xiangzhu barely remembered her early years until her foster mother became pregnant when Xiangzhu was five. The following year, after giving birth to twins, they helped her piece together shattered memories, revealing that she had always been the most superfluous one.

Thus, her foster mother sent her back to her original foster father, the hunter, and from a remote mountain village, she found a way to enter the palace. There, she remained for sixteen years.

Xiangzhu had never wandered the streets nor bought snacks to eat while walking. She didn’t know what it felt like to laugh and play with friends in the street, so when she saw so many people walking in groups before her, envy and longing welled up, spilling from her eyes.

Zhao Ye noticed her change in mood. “It’s still early. I want to stroll through the streets. Xiangzhu, accompany me.”

Xiangzhu was slightly stunned.

Before she could answer, Zhao Ye had already stepped into the lively alley. Yuanbao hurriedly handed Xiangzhu a pouch of money. “Sister Xiangzhu, keep up with the young master. Buy whatever he likes.”

Xiangzhu nodded and hurried after Zhao Ye.

They stopped at a pastry stall where Zhao Ye, drawn by a familiar aroma, casually selected several treats and had the vendor wrap them.

Xiangzhu barely saw what he bought—she only had time to pay and take the oil-paper-wrapped pastries before turning to catch up.

By coincidence, every time Xiangzhu caught up, she overheard the price, paid, received the items, and resumed the search.

Her injured left hand made carrying difficult, but Zhao Ye’s purchases, though varied, were light trinkets she hung from her right wrist, sparing her injured arm.

Eventually, Zhao Ye began carrying the items himself, with Xiangzhu watching. Whatever she looked at twice would be bought by Zhao Ye and held in his hands.

As the sun neared the horizon, Yuanbao, anxious to find them, finally spotted Zhao Ye at the alley entrance, both hands laden with goods.

“Fourth Young Master, you’ve finally returned. What is all this...?” Yuanbao hurried over, took the items, then sighed, “Young Master, it’s so late, the sky’s about to darken. You haven’t eaten yet—what if you get sick from hunger?”

“I bought plenty of snacks. I’ll have a few bites to stave off hunger,” Zhao Ye replied.

Page 3/3

Yuanbao loaded the goods into the carriage, muttering quietly, “Is it safe to eat all this outside palace?”

He dared not question his master’s decision and reminded Xiangzhu to watch Zhao Ye carefully to prevent him from truly overeating.

Xiangzhu nodded and sat in the carriage behind Zhao Ye.

Fearing the palace gates would close if they returned too late, Yuanbao drove faster. Fortunately, the horses were fine and the carriage sturdy, so the ride was smooth.

Inside, Zhao Ye skillfully found the oil-paper-wrapped pastries, unfolded one, and placed it on the table before Xiangzhu.

She looked at him in surprise.

Zhao Ye said matter-of-factly, “How can I eat if you don’t try it first?”

Xiangzhu thought his words reasonable and pinched off a small piece to taste.

It was osmanthus cake—soft, fragrant, and sweet, melting in the mouth. The craftsmanship rivaled even the palace’s osmanthus cakes!

Perhaps because she had never tasted freshly made osmanthus cake inside the palace, this warm, fragrant dessert seemed extraordinarily delicious.

“These all have different flavors. Try them all,” Zhao Ye urged again.

Xiangzhu sampled each one, her eyes growing brighter.

There was chestnut flavor, petal-shaped cakes, and tasty hawthorn...

“Burp,” Xiangzhu suddenly stopped, a bit choked.

A steaming cup of tea was pushed to her. She quickly drank it and, looking up at Zhao Ye, met his smiling gaze and instantly sobered.

“Your Highness, this servant...” she began.

“Looks like we’re going back to the palace now. Put these away and save them for later,” Zhao Ye interrupted, not giving her a chance to apologize. “I’m not interested in eating your leftovers. Take all these back with you.”

Xiangzhu: ...

The carriage returned to the palace through the East Hua Gate, just as when they had left.

Shuangling and Liangcai waited at the side entrance of Xiefang Hall’s inner courtyard.

From afar, they saw the carriage stop. Shuangling stepped forward and bowed, “Your Highness, a lady-in-waiting from the Empress’s palace has come with a message. Please go to Jingren Palace after returning.”