Chapter 24

Lian Ai tossed and turned through the night until dawn. At first light, he rose from bed.

When Fen Zi entered the room carrying breakfast, she saw him already dressed and washed, sitting quietly by the table.

“You’re up early, young master.” Fen Zi forced a smile as she placed each item from the tray onto the table. When she reached the last two, her movements slowed slightly. There was a trace of extra care in her hands.

Lian Ai glanced down and saw a sheet of aged paper. He picked it up and realized it was his deed of sale. Beside it sat a pouch, filled to the brim with silver.

“This is from the general,” Fen Zi said. “Also, your registration has been updated. You are no longer a baseborn. Your record has been rewritten. From now on, you are of common status.”

Lian Ai’s hand trembled. He nearly dropped the paper.

Those of baseborn could only perform the lowest, most degrading kinds of work. They were treated as filth, fit to be scorned, humiliated, or beaten without consequence. But now, as a commoner, he could hold his head high. He could make an honest living. He no longer had to live under anyone’s heel.

He folded the deed and tucked it close to his chest. A faint smile appeared on his lips.

“Thank the general for me.”

Fen Zi opened her mouth as if to say something, then changed her mind when Lian Ai looked up. Her words turned into a quiet reminder.

“Take care of yourself once you leave the estate.”

His smile deepened. “I will.”

After breakfast, she helped him pack a simple bundle. Then, she accompanied him alone to the gate.

Bu Nian never appeared, and Lian Ai never asked.

Fen Zi led him to a side entrance, where a carriage was already waiting.

With the bundle on his back, Lian Ai waved to her. “You should go.”

Her eyes reddened. The smile on her face barely held. “Take care, young master.”

He turned to leave but paused halfway. After a moment, he looked back, smiled lightly, and nodded. “You too.”

Then he climbed into the carriage.

The road ahead was long, and the mountains would lie between them. It was unlikely they would meet again. Life was wide and uncertain. Each of them would carry on as best they could.

Not far from the General’s Estate, at the corner of a side street, a plain-looking man dressed in common clothing stood watching the scene unfold. When he saw the carriage depart, he turned and quickly made his way to a teahouse in the city.

The teahouse was located not far from the city gates. Its prices were steep, far beyond what ordinary citizens could afford. Most of its clientele were officials and nobility. Despite the man’s simple appearance, the shopkeeper did not stop him. It was as if he did not see him at all, silently allowing him to go upstairs.

The man climbed the stairs quickly and came to a private room on the second floor. He knocked on the door with respectful caution. A moment later, a cool, melodious woman’s voice came from within.

“Come in.”

He pushed open the door and bowed before the breathtakingly beautiful woman seated by the table. With hands clasped in salute, he said, “Miss, the catamite was sent out of the General’s Estate before his injuries even healed. By now, he should already be outside the city.”

Zuo Lingxue took a sip of tea and looked out the window toward the distant mountain range. Her voice was quiet.

“I knew he was heartless. But I didn’t expect him to discard someone so easily. He may not have fallen into my trap, but I still feel uneasy.”

In order to drive a wedge between the Empress Dowager and Bu Nian, she had deliberately dragged Princess Fuqu into her scheme. After all that effort, she had gained nothing. Prince Yong had been displeased with her actions, believing that she had used the situation not to serve him, but to eliminate a rival. The two had quarreled bitterly.

She had failed to eliminate Bu Nian and now stood on poor terms with the prince. It was a loss on both fronts. Still, even with Bu Nian appearing indifferent, she could not shake the feeling that there was something more between him and the young male bedslave.

The man looked confused. “Uneasy? What does Miss intend to do?”

Zuo Lingxue set down her cup and smiled. “We will test him and see.”

Whether Bu Nian had truly abandoned the boy or was only pretending would soon be revealed. If she wished to seize control over him, she had to know whether the bond between them still held any weight.

—

The carriage carrying Lian Ai rolled out of the city and came to a stop near a roadside teahouse.

The driver asked him to step down and pointed out the direction ahead. “To the left is Jizhou. To the right is Youzhou. You can hire a cart here if you need one. The teahouse is a good place to rest before deciding where to go next.”

Lian Ai thanked him and handed over a small silver piece. Then he climbed out of the carriage, slinging his bundle over one shoulder.

He took a seat near the edge of the teahouse and ordered a pot of coarse tea to quench his thirst. The bundle remained close by, pressed to his side.

He had only just taken a sip when he felt his bundle being tugged. Turning at once, he saw a wiry man holding a familiar pouch, already trying to slip away.

“Wait! That’s mine!” Lian Ai lunged after him. In the struggle, his arm knocked over the teapot, spilling hot tea across the table.

The man’s eyes turned vicious. He shook off Lian Ai’s hand and growled, “What nonsense are you spouting? This pouch is mine. Don’t try to talk your way into stealing from me.”

Lian Ai realized at once he was dealing with a scoundrel. Steadying his breath, he said, “Then come with me to the local magistrate. Let him judge who this pouch really belongs to.”

The man, knowing he was in the wrong, had no intention of going anywhere. He spat back with foul language. “Go to hell, pretty boy. Why should I follow you? Just because you say it’s yours? Is your name written on it?”

Lian Ai’s lips tightened into a straight line. His brows drew together. “You have your hands and feet. You’re healthy. Why don’t you work to support yourself instead of stealing from others? How can you speak with such shameless pride?”

The wiry man didn’t get angry. Instead, he laughed coldly. “And what if I am shameless?” With that, he glanced at the men seated nearby. The moment he gave the signal, they all stood up. Not a word was spoken, but the air turned heavy at once. Their presence alone was enough to intimidate.

Lian Ai stepped back, lips pressed together in fear.

“What are you trying to do?”

He had left the General’s Estate with only a pouch of silver and a concealed sleeve dart. Nothing else of value was on him.

One of the men approached with a mocking grin, cracking his knuckles as he walked. “Teach you a lesson.”

Lian Ai looked around, hoping to find the teahouse owner and call for help. But the old man had vanished without a trace.

He didn’t want to back down. But he only had a single bolt. There was no way he could fight off this many people.

Just as the group was about to close in, Lian Ai tightened his grip, preparing to release the bolt from his sleeve. But before he could act, someone grabbed a fistful of his hair from behind.

“This pretty boy’s hiding something!” The man behind him seized his wrist and raised it. The long sleeve fell back, revealing the weapon underneath. “Well, well. Planning to shoot us with this?”

Lian Ai’s eyes burned with fury. “Let go of me!”

The wiry man slapped him across the face, snapping his head to the side.

Another man yanked the sleeve bolt off his arm and hurled it to the ground, stomping on it repeatedly.

He crushed it under his boot and drew a dagger from his coat.

“Let’s show this young master what we’re made of.”

The words had barely left his mouth before Lian Ai was shoved to the ground. His injured arm was pinned beneath him, and the pain made cold sweat break out all over his body.

One of them grabbed his hair and forced his face upward. The wiry man in front gave a cold laugh.

“Look at this hair. Smooth and soft, just like a woman’s. What do you say we shave his head bald?”

Lian Ai had endured beatings and curses before, and he could bear them. But this was something else entirely. It was humiliation.

The others burst out laughing. “With hair this long, I bet we could sell it to an official’s wife for a fine wig. Might fetch a good price.”

Lian Ai began to struggle violently, eyes wide with fear. His heart pounded with dread. To have his hair cut was no different than being stripped of his identity.

“No.. don’t touch me…” His voice trembled. His eyes were filled with despair.

Not far from the tea stall, a luxurious four-horse carriage stood quietly. Behind its raised bamboo curtain, half of Zuo Lingxue’s flawless face was visible.

She had watched the scene unfold for some time, but there was still no sign of anyone from the General’s Estate coming to save the boy. She was starting to lose interest.

Could Bu Nian really be so heartless? Could he throw someone away so completely?

If this was truly a piece of scrap, not worth a second look, then there was no need to stay. She lowered the curtain, ready to tell the coachman to return to the city. But just then, something changed.

She paused.

From the crowd, a white-robed figure charged forward, shouting as he kicked several thugs to the ground.

“How dare you touch my friend! I’ll beat you all to death!”

It was her younger brother. Zuo Lingyu.

Zuo Lingxue’s brows drew together. She had no idea why that troublesome younger brother of hers had suddenly appeared in a place like this. The man following behind him, dressed in green, was not unfamiliar to her either. Though his appearance was unremarkable, he was none other than Helian Qiufeng, the eldest son of the prestigious Helian family from Zhongzhou.

The two of them quickly drove off the thugs and helped the battered Lian Ai to his feet.

Zuo Lingxue watched in silence and pressed her lips together. The sudden appearance of this unexpected variable stirred something in her. It wasn’t anxiety, and it wasn’t dread. More than anything, it left her faintly unsettled.

She lowered the curtain and tapped lightly on the carriage wall, signaling the coachman to return to the city.

Lian Ai sat on the ground, his hair disheveled. A strand of freshly cut hair lay beside him.

He stared blankly at the two men who had suddenly appeared. They had driven away the bullies, retrieved his stolen silver, and were now crouched beside him, speaking to him with concern.

Zuo Lingyu shook his arms gently. “Lian Ai, I brought Brother Qiufeng with me. If you have any birthmarks or scars, just tell him. He’ll know if you’re really his younger brother!”

Lian Ai looked at the quiet, honest-looking man beside him. After a pause, he lowered his head slightly. “I’m not your younger brother…”

Zuo Lingyu frowned. “Hey, why would you say that..”

Before he could finish, Helian Qiufeng placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him. Then he turned to Lian Ai and asked gently, “Do you have a red mole on your lower back?”

Lian Ai’s lashes trembled. He looked up at the man again.

Helian Qiufeng saw his reaction and smiled, even more gently. “And on the back of your neck… there’s a faint red birthmark, isn’t there?”

Lian Ai had yet to say anything when Zuo Lingyu reached out and lifted his hair. There was a birthmark at the back of his neck, along with a faint scar.

“There really is one.” He frowned slightly. “But why is there also a scar?”

Lian Ai quickly pulled his hair back from his hand. He touched the back of his neck and remained silent.

Helian Qiufeng let out a quiet sigh, then pulled him into his arms. He held him close and gently patted his back like coaxing a child. “I’ve finally found you. Come home with me, little brother.”

Something in those words stirred him. Lian Ai’s body began to tremble, faintly at first, then with growing intensity.

Helian Qiufeng felt the warmth spreading across his shoulder but said nothing. His hand continued to move in slow, steady strokes, offering silent comfort.

Zuo Lingyu watched in surprise. He wanted to ask why Lian Ai was crying, but when the words reached his lips, he hesitated. In the end, he held his tongue and remained quiet.

Lian Ai cried without a sound. His face was twisted with sorrow, but he did not wail. Compared to loud, heartrending sobs, this quiet weeping revealed even more of his pain.