Chapter Forty-Two: Escape

Ling Zetian glanced at Feng Qiuji, said nothing, and turned to leave Chaoyun Palace. Feng Qiuji’s anger finally erupted—she’d had enough. Living here under someone else’s roof was intolerable; she might as well leave sooner rather than later. With that thought, she began packing her belongings.

“Sister-in-law, what are you doing?”

“Oh, right,” she said, grabbing Ling Zexin by the collar as he approached. “Your brother owes me five hundred thousand taels of silver. You can pay me first, and then ask him for it later.”

“What? Five hundred thousand taels? I don’t have that much money…”

Feng Qiuji didn’t care whether he had it or not; she searched him thoroughly and found only a thousand taels. Sigh, a prince truly lives differently from ordinary folk—he carries several thousand taels of silver notes as pocket money. She took them without hesitation, forced him to write an IOU, and ignored everyone’s pleas and objections as she left the palace alone.

There was nothing to be done. In truth, leaving the palace was not so difficult; after all, she was an empress. But Feng Qiuji thought that if she knew martial arts, it would be even easier. Yet she sincerely no longer wished to stay.

No one could understand the sorrow in her heart.

She didn’t want to see Ling Zetian, but still had to put on a brave face in front of him, pretending nothing had happened. But she felt she could no longer keep up the act; every time she remembered, her heart ached fiercely. She tried to numb herself with other things, to keep busy and forget Ling Zetian. Perhaps it was because she had too much free time, but she still couldn’t forget.

Once outside the palace, Feng Qiuji gazed at the bustling street and suddenly felt a sense of estrangement from the world—a deep unfamiliarity. She realized she understood nothing about this place or its people. Her relatives and acquaintances were in truth neither close nor familiar.

She didn’t return to the Prime Minister’s residence, for it never felt like home. She had no reason to go back. Instead, she walked along the streets, knowing that if she kept going, she would eventually leave the capital.

Suddenly, she saw horses for sale on the roadside. Feng Qiuji considered buying one. Although she couldn’t ride, in this ancient era without taxis, buses, or coaches, she needed a mode of transportation or risk walking herself to exhaustion.

Even if she couldn’t ride yet, she could buy one and practice.

After negotiating with the horse owner, Feng Qiuji finally bought an ordinary chestnut horse for ten taels of silver. She didn’t know the going rate, nor whether ten taels was expensive or cheap, but she felt comforted by how long her money lasted.

Even as she left, she believed the future would be bright.

Feng Qiuji strode down the wide road, her new steed—whom she named Little Brother Horse—following behind, moving toward the radiant sunset.

Outside the city, Feng Qiuji decided to try riding for the first time in her life, hoping for immediate success.

She patted Little Brother Horse’s head, soothing him carefully, then attempted to mount.

“Huh, why can’t I get on?”

“Why is the saddle so high?”

She remembered seeing others mount with a simple swing of the leg, but now, trying herself, she realized it wasn’t so easy. She stretched her short legs several times, but still couldn’t get up…

Too tired to care, Feng Qiuji grabbed the reins and, clambering and crawling, finally managed to get onto the horse’s back, where she lay breathless to rest.

Things in this world are just like that—easy to watch, hard to do.

“How exhilarating!” Once she recovered, Feng Qiuji became excited, gripping the reins, unable to hide her delight.

She looked out across the boundless wilds, her blood surging, a sense of heroism swelling in her heart. She felt like those ancient warriors who rode out to battle, charging at the enemy, swords and horses, bloodshed on the field, laughing as the enemy’s ships turned to dust, leaving devastation in their wake. The setting sun was blood-red, bodies strewn for a hundred miles, rivers running with blood—what is the battlefield but a place where life and death are pledged…

No need to mind her; she was already delirious.

“Little Brother Horse, charge!” She pulled the reins and raised her whip. At her call, the horse shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bow. Feng Qiuji didn’t care where they were headed—she was too thrilled to think about such things.

She didn’t know how long Little Brother Horse ran, but eventually, Feng Qiuji grasped some technique and was secretly pleased with her mount’s docility. She’d feared being thrown off, but the horse was gentle and calm.

By evening, Feng Qiuji reached a small town—she wasn’t sure where. Seeing inns and taverns, and feeling hungry, she decided to find a place to stay for the night and rest. Her journey was meant to be a grand tour, following in the footsteps of the great Li Bai, roaming across the land. When she tired of wandering, she’d settle down, start a small business, marry, have children—a simple, pleasant life.

“Miss, are you here for a bite or to stay the night?” A cheerful waiter greeted her as she approached the door.

Glancing at the sky growing darker, Feng Qiuji replied decisively, “To stay. And bring some fine fodder for my beloved horse!”

“Of course, right this way.”

Feng Qiuji looked at the bustling hall and decided to head upstairs instead.

…

She sat upstairs for some time, growing so hungry she didn’t even want to move, slumped over the table. “Why hasn’t anyone come? Are they trying to starve me?!”

“Waiter!” she called out loudly.

She’d waited so long, and yet no one offered service. Did they not know customers were king? How did this inn even stay open? She’d have to complain to customer service! Small-town inns were nothing like those in the capital.

“No time,” the waiter glanced at her coolly.

Feng Qiuji looked beside him—there sat a richly dressed young man and a young lady, dining together, likely on a date. But how were they out together? Weren’t old customs strict? How could they dine so openly?

But that wasn’t the point! The point was they had two or three waiters attending them.

She was annoyed—same customers, yet such different treatment.

“Waiter, come here!” Feng Qiuji snapped.

“What would you like?” The waiter came over reluctantly.

“Bring me every specialty dish you have,” she ordered without even lifting her eyes, playing the part of a generous patron.

“Really?” He looked her up and down in surprise.

“I don’t want to repeat myself. What, afraid I can’t pay?” She glanced at her plain clothes and realized she’d dressed too modestly today. After dinner, she must find some finer attire—image mattered when traveling.

“No… of course not, miss. Please wait a moment.” The waiter’s face changed to a smile.

“How mercenary.” But having money felt good.

After so much rushing about, she finally stopped. Feng Qiuji reflected on the day’s events—there had truly been many. She’d met the Empress Dowager, seen Qin Ruoyan, Ling Zetian, and many others. By evening, she was in a strange town, dining and lodging alone under the cover of night.

If she never returned, would she never see those people again?

A wave of melancholy washed over her. She should have said proper goodbyes, given gifts as mementos—if only Ling Zetian hadn’t provoked her. In a fit of anger, she’d left, not even saying farewell to Ling Zexin, Ying Xuanyu, Sakura Luo, or Anuo.

She recalled Ling Zetian’s confession earlier that day—life’s twists and turns. She could no longer stay in the palace.

Better to leave—so she did.

Though the meal was sumptuous, eating alone was tasteless. Feng Qiuji watched the crowds and vendors outside the window and suddenly wished she could drag a few people up to join her.

She disliked loneliness, disliked being alone, disliked feeling abandoned.

She wanted to be surrounded by people—eating, laughing, enjoying together.

Sometimes fate was strange; just as she thought this, a commotion arose nearby. A fair-skinned but somewhat disheveled young man was arguing with the same waiter who’d served her. Listening closely, she learned the man had lost his money and wanted to eat on credit, but the waiter wouldn’t even let him in—mercenary indeed.

Tsk, tsk, how naive. Why not eat first, then ask for credit? Such honesty was rare in the world. If it were her, she’d eat and then find a way to slip out, rather than standing there arguing.

Feeling pity, Feng Qiuji decided to help. She called out, “Waiter, invite that gentleman over.”

“Certainly.” The waiter, displeased, shot the man a look, then called him over with a smile.

Once he arrived, Feng Qiuji looked him over. He was handsome enough, though dressed in rough linen, a bit shabby.

“May I ask, miss, what you need from me?”

“Nothing much. I’m eating alone and can’t finish all this food. You see, most of the dishes are untouched. If you don’t mind, join me; if you do, I’ll order another table for you. I want to say, though, it’s not that I’m unwilling to spend money, but wasting food is a shameful thing.”

The young man laughed heartily at her words. “To dine with such a fair lady is my honor.”

Feng Qiuji observed his manner—polite and refined. He must be a poor scholar, perhaps bound for the capital exams and stranded after losing his money. She felt another wave of sympathy and admiration, deciding to give him some funds after dinner so he could continue his journey.

She had always admired the heroes in the works of Master Jin Yong—those who helped the oppressed and righted wrongs. She wished to be such a hero, though she lacked martial skills. Still, as a woman, she felt it her duty to lend a hand to those in need. Yes, she was truly noble!

-- End of Volume One --

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