Chapter Three: Releasing the Tiger Back to the Mountain (V)

Section Five: Hua Mei Found Guilty

After dismissing everyone else, only Xiang Bao remained to attend him. Fu Chai reclined on the couch, supporting his head with one hand, his dark, fathomless eyes fixed upon her without blinking.

“Do you want some water?” Xiang Bao, unnerved by his unwavering gaze, asked timidly.

Fu Chai shook his head, continuing to stare.

“Are you hungry, then?”

He shook his head again.

“Would you like to lie down and rest for a while?”

He shook his head.

“What do you want, then?” Xiang Bao’s patience snapped.

Fu Chai laughed, suddenly sitting up and opening his arms. “Come here.”

A faint blush rose to Xiang Bao’s cheeks. “No.”

“Then shall I come to you?” Fu Chai raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps there’s still poison lingering in me. Perhaps if I move, I’ll faint again. Perhaps—”

He hadn’t finished speaking when Xiang Bao hurried to his side. Fu Chai smiled, reaching out to embrace her, pulling her onto the couch and beneath him with gentle force.

“You... Your body’s not healed yet...” Xiang Bao protested in a whisper, her face flushed.

“I’m quite well,” he replied with a soft laugh, loosening her sash.

Xiang Bao closed her eyes, biting her lip. Suddenly, his hand halted. She opened her eyes in confusion—and was startled. He looked frightening...

Fu Chai’s long, narrow eyes narrowed as he gazed at the simply bandaged wound on her left shoulder. Though the blood had dried, its vivid red remained shocking.

“What happened?” His voice was dangerously low.

“Eh?” Xiang Bao feigned ignorance.

“Attend!” Fu Chai shot her a sidelong glance, sat up, and drew her clothes carefully together. “Summon the physician.”

The doctors, thinking something had happened with the king’s poison, hurriedly arrived. Instead, they found the king grim-faced, and Lady Xi Shi cowering like a frightened bride.

Fu Chai glanced at Xiang Bao, frowning. “Never mind. Withdraw. Summon the Yue Maiden.”

When Yue Maiden arrived at the Drunken Moon Pavilion, she wondered if there had been some mistake, but upon seeing Xiang Bao’s injury, she understood at once.

“How severe is the wound?” Fu Chai asked without looking at Xiang Bao.

“It’s deep. Though it was promptly bandaged and the bleeding stopped, no medicine was applied. It must be reopened and medicated, or it won’t heal properly,” Yue Maiden replied. “But...”

“But what?”

“Now the flesh has grown together with the bandage. Removing it may tear the skin and flesh. It will hurt.”

“Ah?” Xiang Bao’s mouth fell open, her head shaking like a rattle. “No, no, I don’t want it removed! Let it be—it’ll heal eventually...”

“Mm, remove it,” Fu Chai nodded, ignoring her protest entirely.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Yue Maiden nodded, pouring some medicinal powder from a bamboo tube into a cup and mixing it with water.

“Eh?” Xiang Bao stared wide-eyed. She was the injured one—why was her will ignored?

Yue Maiden dipped a clean cloth in the medicine and began to moisten the bandage covering the wound. The dried blood on the white cloth grew even more vivid.

Fu Chai frowned slightly.

Yue Maiden untied the knot at the wound and slowly peeled the cloth away. The bandage tore at Xiang Bao’s skin and flesh, and fresh blood gushed forth.

This wasn’t merely “a bit painful”—it was excruciating!

“Aah... ah...” Xiang Bao screamed. “It hurts, it hurts!”

Fu Chai’s frown deepened. He held her tightly, preventing her from thrashing.

“Aah, it hurts, it hurts...” Xiang Bao cried, her face pale.

“Let’s see if you dare act recklessly again,” Fu Chai snorted coldly, but a trace of worry leaked from his shadowed eyes.

That worry did not escape Yue Maiden, who lowered her gaze to conceal a fleeting, inscrutable expression.

“Waa... no... it hurts...” Xiang Bao howled like a tormented ghost.

“Stop crying,” Fu Chai, disturbed by her wails, ordered.

“Why not cry? Why... Waa... I’ll cry if I please... Waa...”

Fu Chai pressed his wrist into her mouth. Xiang Bao bit down fiercely, glaring at him. He winced, but couldn’t help laughing. Finally, the bloodstained bandage was removed, and Yue Maiden applied medicine and carefully re-bandaged the wound.

“All done. Don’t let it get wet. I’ll prescribe more medicine,” Yue Maiden said, packing up and taking her leave.

Fu Chai nodded, turning to the little creature gnawing his wrist like a puppy. “Let go.”

Xiang Bao glared at him, eyes wide.

Fu Chai gently patted her head, softening his voice. “It’s over. Let go.”

Only then did Xiang Bao release her bite. Fu Chai looked at his wrist—blood had been drawn, a neat row of teeth marks left behind. She’d bitten hard.

“See, all your saliva,” Fu Chai said, shaking his wrist.

Xiang Bao’s eyes remained glazed, and then she tilted her head and fainted.

Poor Xiang Bao had passed out from pain.

She slept fitfully, not knowing how long she’d been unconscious. When she opened her eyes, Si Xiang was sitting at her bedside, staring at her, with Zi Ruo standing beside him.

“Mother?” Si Xiang exclaimed, rubbing his eyes in disbelief when he saw her awaken.

“Madam!” Zi Ruo called out as well.

With a painful frown, Xiang Bao tried to move her arm, but found her whole body limp and unable to move.

“Don’t move—the wound,” Si Xiang hurriedly pressed her hand.

“Madam, honestly! Such a deep wound, and you didn’t have it properly medicated. You didn’t see how frightening the king looked!” Zi Ruo shrank back, visibly afraid.

Xiang Bao finally recalled her ordeal, her teeth grinding audibly. She glanced around. “Where’s the king?”

“Uh, Father had something to attend to and left. He said he’d come see you later...” Si Xiang, frightened by Xiang Bao’s resentful gaze, explained quickly. Now she understood why the king had slipped away first—she looked terrifying...

“Hmph!” Xiang Bao snorted in anger.

She remained bedridden for two days. On the third day, she managed to get up, wrapped in thick blankets, sitting by the window, basking in the rare warmth of the afternoon sun.

Outside, the plaque of Drunken Moon Pavilion gleamed brightly in the sunlight.

Zi Ruo told her that when Fu Chai saw the pale head hanging upon the plaque outside Drunken Moon Pavilion, his expression was unpredictable. Before all eyes, he leapt up and removed the nearly desiccated, hideous head, tossing it into Wu Zixu’s arms without a blink.

Typical of him, but no doubt deepening the rift between himself and Wu Zixu.

“Madam, madam...” Zi Ruo rushed in, panting. “Lady Hua Mei has been taken away.”

“What?” Xiang Bao was shocked. Linglong’s death hadn’t ended this matter?

“They say the king investigated the poisoning thoroughly and found evidence in Lan Yue Pavilion,” Zi Ruo said hesitantly.

Xiang Bao stood, clenching her fists.

“Madam, where are you going? Your wound—” Zi Ruo tried to hold her back.

“To see her off,” Xiang Bao replied quietly, pushing Zi Ruo’s hand aside and leaving.

She hurried along the corridor, growing more anxious with each step. At the entrance to Lan Yue Pavilion, she saw Hua Mei.

Hua Mei’s hands were bound, but she showed no sign of distress. Her long dark hair was carefully arranged, a delicate hairpin slanted in her locks, her brows arched, lips painted red, her wide-sleeved dark red robe making her look not like a criminal, but a bride.

Hua Mei looked up, seeing Xiang Bao.

“It’s always the younger sister who’s thoughtful—coming to see me off even now,” she said, smiling, beautiful beyond belief.

Xiang Bao had never seen her so lovely—a beauty like a moth drawn to flame.

“It’s time,” a guard urged impatiently.

“We’re sisters—let me see her off,” Xiang Bao said, handing some money from her sleeve to the guard.

The guard hesitated, but finally waved his men away.

Money truly is a wonderful thing.

“Was it really you?” Xiang Bao asked Hua Mei.

“It doesn’t matter whose doing it was; this is my fate,” Hua Mei replied softly, weariness in her voice.

“It wasn’t you, was it? You’re just the sacrificed one, aren’t you?” Xiang Bao stepped forward, grasping her sleeve. “Who was it? Please tell me.”

“Don’t be foolish. At this point, it doesn’t matter,” Hua Mei gently pushed Xiang Bao away, then took her hand. “Thank you for caring so much for me.”

“Don’t you feel wronged?” Xiang Bao’s voice was strained.

“Wronged, so very wronged,” Hua Mei smiled. “We’re both women, yet I’ve never had a husband’s love. Named Hua Mei, yet never has anyone carefully painted my brows. How wronged I am...”

Xiang Bao was silent. Was Hua Mei truly willing to take the blame? Gou Jian, what spell did you cast that made her willing to die for you?

“It’s time,” the guard called from a distance.

Finally, tears brimmed in Hua Mei’s eyes. She squeezed Xiang Bao’s hand.

“Sister, take care,” she murmured, then turned and followed the waiting guards, never once looking back.

In the warm sunlight, her figure left a solitary silhouette upon the empty courtyard of Lan Yue Pavilion. Only Xiang Bao remained, facing the sun, watching her leave.

How long the road between north and south, spears drawn at every turn. How many will reach Hengyang through the mist? Linglong was dead; Hua Mei was gone... Of all the women from Yue who entered Wu, only she and Zheng Dan remained...

Turning away from Hua Mei’s departure, Xiang Bao saw Gou Jian.

“Wu King instructed me to see Hua Mei off,” Gou Jian said calmly, his voice flat.

Another probe—endless intrigue.

“Who was it?” Xiang Bao asked Gou Jian.

“What?”

“The poisoner—who was it?”

“Hua Mei.”

“Impossible,” Xiang Bao bit her lip. “She never had the chance to approach Fu Chai.”

“Some things are safer if you don’t know,” Gou Jian replied.

Sudden weariness swept over Xiang Bao. She no longer wished to argue and turned away, nearly bumping into someone at the corridor’s corner—it was Zheng Dan.

Xiang Bao froze—how long had Zheng Dan been there?

Zheng Dan pulled Xiang Bao into the corner, out of Gou Jian’s sight, then released her, her expression unreadable.

“Do you want to know who poisoned him?”

“You know?” Xiang Bao was surprised.

“The Yue Maiden.”

“How... could that be...” Xiang Bao was stunned.

What role had Yue Maiden played in this web of intrigue?

Zheng Dan glanced toward Hua Mei’s departing figure. “That fool took the blame for everything—why?”

“Perhaps... for Yue,” Xiang Bao murmured.

Zheng Dan snorted, clearly disdainful.

“Or perhaps she had reasons she couldn’t disobey Gou Jian. Or perhaps... she loved the man who would never paint her brows for a lifetime...” Xiang Bao lowered her head, her voice barely audible.

She remembered the first sight of that orange-clad woman, with willow brows and phoenix eyes, bold and lively, turning with a radiant smile and tinkling ornaments: “I am Hua Mei—call me Sister Hua.”

...

“Is that so? How sad,” Zheng Dan laughed softly, but with a hint of sorrow.

Why Hua Mei willingly went to her death, only she herself knew. But she would never be able to say it now.

“Do you remember the day we went to offer sacrifices to Si Cha and Qiu Hui?” Zheng Dan asked suddenly.

Xiang Bao nodded. How could she forget? So much blood, so many women cut down in an instant—it was unforgettable.

“Those assassins were sent by the ruler,” Zheng Dan revealed lightly, her lips curved in a slight smile, though it was unclear whom she mocked.

Xiang Bao was stunned.

“Sometimes I wish I could be as ignorant as you—never knowing, never worrying, always protected. How wonderful,” Zheng Dan said. “But I don’t have that fate.”

“How did you know?” Xiang Bao’s eyes lowered.

“I saw it myself. Because I witnessed something I shouldn’t, the ruler sent Shi Lian to silence me. Remember the night I invited you to Lan Yue Pavilion?”

Xiang Bao remembered—she had saved the injured Shi Lian that night. “Did you invite the king deliberately as well?”

“Yes. Shi Lian was sent to kill me,” Zheng Dan admitted.

“The ruler intended to frame Wu Zixu?” Xiang Bao whispered.

“You’re not so foolish after all.”

Xiang Bao fell silent, recalling the hunt, when Fu Chai chased a deer deep into the forest. Wu Feng had urged her to follow, and she was ambushed. She’d always thought Wu Feng wanted to kill her—but now...

“I think Hua Mei knew the ruler’s plan before we went to the cemetery.”

“Why do you think so?” Xiang Bao was startled.

“She was ordered to protect you. Think back—when chaos erupted, everyone panicked and fled for their lives. And you?”

It was Hua Mei. As bodies fell and blood flowed, Xiang Bao was too weak to escape. Hua Mei was the one who dragged her to safety.

That day, Hua Mei had also rushed to Drunken Moon Pavilion to tell her that Qiu Hui had been detained and beaten by Yun Ji for wanting to go to Si Cha’s grave. Then, when Xiang Bao herself was beaten, Fu Chai conveniently appeared and rescued her, and then... he allowed her to leave the palace to pay respects.

At the time, everything seemed natural. But now, the previously overlooked details came together, revealing the truth.

“So I envy you. No matter the danger, you’re always protected,” Zheng Dan said.

Unexpectedly, Zheng Dan and Xiang Bao spent a quiet afternoon together—perhaps Hua Mei’s departure had given them a sense of shared sorrow. When dusk fell, they left Lan Yue Pavilion’s corridor and returned to their own chambers, as if they had never spoken, strangers once more.

On the fifth day after Hua Mei’s execution, Fu Chai hosted a banquet in the palace for his ministers, with Gou Jian among the guests.

Beneath the throne, Gou Jian drank calmly, Wu Zixu’s face was dark, and Bo Pi smiled obsequiously at Fu Chai’s side. The atmosphere was tense and strange.

After several rounds, Fu Chai suddenly set down his cup and said, “I host you today because I have an announcement.”

Everyone stopped talking, raising their heads to listen.

“Gou Jian, ruler of Yue, has served me loyally. To show my gratitude, I permit him to return to Yue with his wife and retainers,” Fu Chai declared, to everyone’s shock.

The hall fell silent; all were dumbstruck.

“Your Majesty’s grace is like the rivers and sun and moon. I am eternally grateful,” Gou Jian replied at last, rising and kneeling, his head touching the floor. “I will pay homage every year and offer tribute each season to thank your benevolence.”

Fu Chai smiled without a word.

“That must not be!” Wu Zixu suddenly stood, stepping forward and protesting loudly.

“Gou Jian has served me loyally. Without him, I would not be alive today,” Fu Chai replied.

“Gou Jian is ambitious and dangerous. Please reconsider!” Wu Zixu insisted.

Gou Jian remained kneeling, head bowed, silent in self-defense.

“Prime Minister Wu, you worry too much,” Fu Chai said, sipping his wine and watching Wu Zixu grow red-faced with anxiety.

“You, you, you—worthless for counsel!” Wu Zixu stormed out in fury.

“Announce that another banquet will be held tomorrow to send Gou Jian back to Yue,” Fu Chai said, watching Wu Zixu leave angrily.

“Your Majesty is wise! Your Majesty is wise!” Bo Pi cried.

Everyone looked at one another, then bowed, echoing, “Your Majesty is wise...”

Amidst the chorus of praise, Fu Chai descended from the throne, a shadowed gleam in his narrow eyes.

Behind him, the cries of “Your Majesty is wise” lingered.

Standing outside the hall, Fu Chai looked up and spoke. “Are you puzzled, too?”

The shadow in the darkness gave no answer.

“Gou Jian is remarkable—a man who cannot be kept or killed. Keeping him close, I am exposed while he hides. Better to let the tiger return to the mountain than to foster danger at home,” Fu Chai said, turning to the shadow.

“Is it because she was injured?” the shadow asked softly.

Fu Chai laughed. “Perhaps.”