Volume One, Chapter Six: The Three-Year Death Countdown

The night fell silent once more, and Zhu Xiaozhi’s taut nerves finally relaxed as she gently leaned against her unfamiliar father. Zhu Xuanli reached out, taking his long-lost daughter onto his shoulder. Yet, as her only support in this strange world, his shoulders were narrow and seemed scarcely able to bear any heavy burden.

“Xiaozhi, you must be tired. Let’s go home.”

At least now, she had real family in this world. Facing hardships, she was no longer alone, no longer without a branch to cling to.

Supporting each other, the father and daughter rose and turned to the young man in white still kneeling nearby.

“Doctor Pei, the Zhu family owes you a debt of gratitude.”

Hiding behind her father, Zhu Xiaozhi pressed her lips together and bowed her head to the youth.

“Sorry, it’s because of me that you were implicated.”

The young man had been practicing martial arts for years; his lean but firm muscles shielded his insides. Aside from a recurring old injury in his knee, he had only suffered minor external wounds. As he wiped his face with the tattered corner of his robe, he replied,

“Pei Zai is a servant of His Majesty; it is his duty to share the burden. But, Third Princess, you must be more cautious in the future and not act so impulsively.”

In Zhu Xiaozhi’s memory, Pei Zai’s name did not appear on the political stage at the end of the Great Chu dynasty. It seemed this loyal and upright man had long been buried among treacherous ministers, lost to the annals of history.

“I understand.”

The group hurriedly left the Liu residence. Zhu Xiaozhi glanced back one last time; the heavy iron gate closed behind them, cutting off the sounds of the women’s sobbing in the courtyard.

Would the sunlight rise as usual for them tomorrow?

Looking around, only she and Pei Zai turned their heads back. The others lowered their gazes obediently, as if cut off from the outside world, hearing nothing.

Though the title of Minister of Rites was not grand, he held the Imperial Jade Seal and was presumably the leader among them.

“Lord Pei, is there truly no way to save the women inside?”

Just as Pei Zai was about to mount his horse, he turned back at her question.

“How does the princess intend to save them?”

“Am I not the princess? I want to take them all as my attendants.”

“According to protocol, a princess may have no more than ten attendants. Moreover, although I hold the Jade Seal, the official edicts and banners have yet to arrive. Your father is not yet a legitimate emperor, so your official status as princess cannot be established.”

Zhu Xuanli, embarrassed, pulled his daughter aside.

“Enough, Xiaozhi. Let Doctor Pei rest quietly and recover.”

But Zhu Xiaozhi felt defiant—though he was their savior, there was no need to belittle them so sharply.

Her father would not only be emperor but would be the last emperor of Chu.

It seemed this fallen monarch truly lacked any real power, having to curry favor just to ascend the throne.

Well, no matter. If they would not help, she would find a way herself. After all, in the orphanage, she had often rescued her friends single-handedly from confinement.

Pei Zai and the envoys from Chang’an stayed at the post station. Compared to spending every day with these high officials, Zhu Xuanli still preferred his shabby thatched cottage on the city outskirts, where the family lived.

So father and daughter parted ways with the others halfway, riding home alone on a small chestnut horse.

“Xiaozhi is back! Yuan’er, come quickly and see the child.”

Her mother, Lü Yuan, peered out from behind a half-open wooden door. Her hair was messily tied under a cloth, as was common among farm women, and her thin lips pressed into a line.

“You even know to come back? I had already considered you nonexistent.”

Zhu Xuanli wrapped his left arm around his wife and his right around his daughter, gently turning their averted heads to rest lightly together. Their tangled hair strands intertwined—a tacit reconciliation.

“Don’t be like that. Three days have passed; the anger should have faded.”

“This time Xiaozhi truly escaped death. That old man Liu from the silk shop kidnapped her and nearly let others harm her. Tch, he’s older than me and still dared to lay eyes on Xiaozhi.”

Zhu Xiaozhi did not elaborate on how they got in touch; Zhu Xuanli did not ask and promised to keep the secret from his wife. Yet, as a mother, the Empress naturally had the right to know all of her daughter’s experiences.

“Your daughter is formidable. Without hesitation, she snatched Doctor Pei’s sword and, in front of Andehai, cut off one hand of each of those who bullied her, returning intact and unscathed.”

He dared not mention her provocation of Andehai, fearing it might alarm his wife.

Lü Yuan, moved, held Zhu Xiaozhi’s hands and looked them over carefully.

“A daughter’s hands should never be stained with such blood. Did you get scratched by the sword?”

Only family ever worries about whether you are hurt when you return victorious. Watching this domestic scene, Zhu Xiaozhi’s eyes moistened.

Her original self’s parents were both alive, about to enjoy unparalleled prosperity and glory, seemingly able to recline in comfort for a new life.

But she remembered clearly: according to historical records, after Emperor Ai ascended, the Chu kingdom would be buffeted by storms and, within ten years, would collapse due to the dominance of aristocratic clans, with imperial power lost and the land shattered.

Subsequently, regional military governors declared themselves kings, and only after centuries of warfare did a new era of unity arrive.

Putting aside the kingdom’s fate ten years hence, the looming five-year death countdown beside Zhu Xuanli’s name was enough to fill Zhu Xiaozhi with dread.

She had taken over the original body and caused trouble, stealing family members who would risk everything for her punishment. Naturally, she must repay their kindness and do all she could to save their lives.

Moreover, she had lost the chance to return to the modern world and had said farewell to her lonely past.

Given a second chance at life, she would not let her family die young again.

“Mother, has Zhu Xiaozhi returned?”

A boy peeked from behind the door. His delicate features framed by large almond-shaped eyes, a straight, handsome nose, and lips as soft as pearls. His smile blossomed like a begonia in spring, radiant and beautiful—more lovely than many girls.

“Xianzhi, quickly tell Shiyue that Xiaozhi has been found.”

This was the other name among the three hearts on the contact list—Zhu Xianzhi? Indeed, another family member.

But the boy showed no joy, crossing his arms and snorting coldly.

“I don’t care whether she comes back or not.”

Though he said this, he obediently ran inside, nearly tripping from running too fast.

“Sister Yue, Zhu Xiaozhi is home.”

Zhu Xiaozhi vaguely recalled that Emperor Ai of Chu had four children, the youngest being a son who sadly died before his twentieth year.

The death countdown beside her brother’s name indeed stopped three years from now.

Following Zhu Xianzhi into the house, Zhu Xiaozhi hesitated before asking the boy, whose early death was foretold,

“Why don’t you call me sister?”

Turning around, Zhu Xianzhi stuck out his tongue and made a teasing face at her.

“Don’t wish for it. I’m supposed to be your brother. Before I could even come out of Mother’s womb, you kicked me aside and stole the spotlight to be a fake sister. I haven’t settled the score with you yet.”

Still a proud little boy, Zhu Xiaozhi smiled at his brightly shining favorability bar.