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墨書 Inktalez
Upon seeing him, everyone’s expression turned serious, instinctively tensing their bodies. They were already taller than the average men of the Great Zhou by half a head. However, Young Master Zhuo, or rather, Jianan, was slightly taller than them.
The dark black robe with wide sleeves and cloud patterns he wore added to his aura of unattainable nobility. His demeanor suggested that he was born into a prestigious family, commanding admiration from all around.
He walked steadily ahead, his gaze unwavering. Zhuo Da and Zhuo Mang hurried to keep up with him. Once they boarded the carriage and reached a secluded spot, the coachman Zhuo mustered his courage and asked in the language of Beirong:
“Master, why did you give the Xiameihua to Miss Song? Didn’t that doctor say it might have some effect on your injury?”
Ever since you were saved by Jatu three years ago, you’ve forgotten your past. In these years, despite seeing many doctors, there hasn’t been any progress. Now that there’s finally a glimmer of hope...
Due to amnesia, the foreign name Jianan was also given by Jatu.
Inside the carriage sat a handsome man with a cool and aloof demeanor, examining a jade bracelet through a plain white cloth. His long, narrow phoenix eyes held an indifferent coldness.
Though he had no memories of the past, he could tell at a glance that the material of this jade bracelet was subpar. He measured its circumference with his slender fingers.
Small.
His gaze flickered to the delicate hand holding the bracelet; it was at least two sizes smaller than his own. So thin that he feared it might break with just a slight squeeze.
His eyes darkened as he set the bracelet aside and spoke in Beirong:
“A bunch of quacks.”
The Beirong language was somewhat rougher than the Great Zhou dialect. However, his deep and magnetic voice made those few syllables sound much more pleasant. Though he was from Great Zhou, he spoke Beirong fluently without any accent.
However, there was a clear disdain in his tone, which clashed greatly with his handsome and refined appearance.
Zhuo recalled Song Feiwan's stunning looks and continued, "But this young lady from the Song family, how should I put it in Da Zhou? She is quite polite. Moreover, she is several times more beautiful than Sister Sangzhen. You really missed out on seeing her, Master."
Sangzhen was Jatu's wife, with bright eyes that sparkled like a clear blue lake high in the snowy mountains. She was the most beautiful woman Zhuo had ever seen. After Jatu rescued the Master and brought him back to the tribe, it was Sangzhen who took care of him during his recovery.
Inside the carriage, there was silence as Zhuo rambled on, "She mentioned that her father is an official in the Ministry of Justice—what was it again? Ah, there are just too many officials in Da Zhou for me to keep track of; it sounds somewhat familiar anyway."
"The Deputy Minister of Justice, surnamed Song," came a voice from atop a horse that had remained silent until now. "The girl who jumped into the lake at Rongfu a few days ago."
"Yes, yes!" Zhuo smacked his thigh. "That girl said she would sacrifice herself for Prince Chen Xiao Yu! I wonder if the one who jumped into the lake and the one who sought medicine today are the same person."
"As for Xiao Yu," he continued, "even though I dislike him, I have to admit he is a remarkable hero—brave and resourceful. I never expected that even after his death for several years, there would still be such a passionate and genuine woman in the capital willing to risk her life for him."
Just as he was about to say more, a displeased cold voice interrupted from within the carriage: "Enough noise; go back and accept your punishment."
Zhuo was taken aback. He had merely been discussing some gossip from the city—why was he being punished for that?
Sighing inwardly, he thought how difficult it was to understand his Master’s heart. He looked at Zhuo with pleading eyes and raised his eyebrows: "Brother, please help me plead my case!"
Zhuo rode on without glancing sideways, his face clearly expressing two words: "You deserve it."
Meanwhile, Song Feiwan returned safely to the Song residence, leaving everyone utterly astonished.
She was alive?
Had Concubine Rong actually believed her nonsense?
This was impossible!
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