Seventy-Nine: Zhao Yu’s Grumbling

The girl had already been sent back to her room, and Yin Chan should have been roused as well, now treating her. What Ming Tian needed to do now was prepare something she could eat.

Having grown used to the kitchen in the meal hall, Ming Tian looked at the inn’s own kitchen and felt as though he had stepped into a rubbish heap. The vegetables and fruit scattered about were shriveled, though at least they had not gone bad yet.

"So few ingredients," he muttered. Unlike the meal hall, this was still the age of the Northern and Southern Dynasties, and folk foodstuffs simply were not very varied.

When he was out in the wild, Ming Tian usually dug up whatever edible greens he could find and boiled them, only with rather sophisticated processing, so the result actually tasted quite good.

Now, seeing Xiao Xinzhu take out two taels of silver and hand them to the innkeeper, Ming Tian finally learned that polished white rice was a precious grain. This inn had only managed to get seven or eight jin of it through smuggling, and ordinary households did not even have that much.

It was a real eye-opener for someone like Ming Tian, who had never had much contact with the poorest people of ancient times.

Just half a jin of polished white rice in this era cost fifteen hundred coins. Was that not robbery? In modern times, this would barely count as second-rate rice, right? Half a jin, and if one were a little courteous to a familiar rice shop owner, they would probably give it away for free.

What did fifteen hundred coins amount to? Converted into modern money, and taking into account the difference in purchasing power between the ancient world and the present, it was equivalent to twenty to thirty thousand yuan in cash.

And that was only half a liang more, bringing the total to well over thirty thousand.

Good heavens. Saving a slave had cost him more than thirty thousand. If this were modern times, and my mother found out, she would probably beat me into minced meat and turn me into luncheon meat cans to sell.

But since he had saved her, there was no taking it back.

He boiled water to make congee, took a little of every vegetable he could find, chopped them finely, and tossed them into the pot together with the rice. All told, he added seventeen or eighteen ingredients.

He did not even bother with any concern for flavor pairing. With so many ingredients, it could hardly taste too bad.

He heated oil in a wok, dumped in the minced mutton, and stir-fried it. Then he added water, salt, maltose, minced ginger, and other seasonings. This method quickly brought out the fragrance of the meat, and finally he added tofu, making a bowl of tofu and mutton soup for her.

Given her condition, her bodily functions were already at the brink of collapse, so she needed something easy to digest first. If he had made something like stir-fried intestines for her, she might well have choked to death.

Of course, stir-fried intestines had only been invented in the late Tang Dynasty, so there was no chance of stir-frying anything here.

He simmered everything for a full two hours, not finishing until two or three in the morning.

Carrying the congee and the soup, Ming Tian returned carefully to his room, only to find everyone gathered around the bed, staring at the female slave lying there.

The female slave had already awakened, and Yin Chan was feeding her medicine.

"Ming Tian," Zhao Yu said, stepping forward before he could even get close, blocking his way and pointing displeasedly at the girl in the bed. "Can you explain what this is about? She is one of those two-legged sheep, isn’t she?"

"Zhao Yu, stop it," Xiao Xinzhu said, turning her head and patting her shoulder.

At once, Zhao Yu showed signs of anger. "Miss, I’m not trying to criticize you, but even kindness has to have its limit. You’re a Di, so you should understand this best. She’s clearly a runaway two-legged sheep. If her Jie master finds out, he’ll definitely come after us for revenge."

Though Zhao Yu’s words were blunt, they were sincere concern for Xiao Xinzhu.

Xiao Xinzhu’s expression darkened, but her gaze remained firm. After a long silence, she said, "I won’t stand by and watch someone die."

"Miss, you..." Zhao Yu was momentarily speechless, apparently furious. "Fine, I’m not dealing with you anymore!"

With that, she stamped her foot and stormed out of the room.

That little firecracker.

Ming Tian glanced at her but made no comment.

"Don’t blame her," Xiao Xinzhu said, her voice tinged with guilt. "She only cares about me too much."

Indeed, though they had not known each other long, Ming Tian had seen how deeply Zhao Yu cared for Xiao Xinzhu. He understood it at least somewhat, otherwise Zhao Yu would not have risked herself by trying to break into the imperial palace to save her.

In Zhao Yu’s eyes, perhaps there was nothing more important than Xiao Xinzhu. Maybe even Xiao Xinzhu’s place in her heart stood above her own father’s.

Her way of thinking revolved entirely around Xiao Xinzhu.

And the two of them were close enough that, even as servant and mistress, Zhao Yu could still complain to her openly.

"Go after her," Ming Tian said calmly.

He could not do anything about the girl’s temper. If someone needed to persuade her, only his wife could do it.

Xiao Xinzhu lowered her head and gave a faint nod before leaving the room.

By the bedside, only An Luo and Yin Chan remained.

The female slave had awakened, and now sat on the bed like a wooden post, showing not the slightest reaction.

When Yin Chan fed her medicine, she obeyed mechanically, opening her mouth and swallowing on command and nothing more.

There was not the slightest trace of life in those hollow eyes.

"How is she?" Ming Tian asked.

After giving the last spoonful of medicine, Yin Chan rubbed her sleep-dulled eyes. "Terrible. Fractured ribs, strained fingers, countless bruises and torn muscles... never mind. If I listed every injury on her body, I’d probably be talking for half an hour."

Hearing this, and then looking again at the girl’s vacant stare on the bed, Ming Tian saw that her eyes held nothing but despair.

Whenever those eyes moved, any time they met Ming Tian, Yin Chan, or An Luo’s gaze, they shrank back in fear.

She was only a child.

"Without exaggeration, if any one of us here had injuries like hers, we’d probably already be dead. Just how strong must her will to survive be, to keep her alive until now..." Yin Chan paused there and did not continue.

Looking at the child and that pitiful state, at that face so battered it was almost impossible to recognize as human, anyone with a conscience would feel pity.

What sort of beast would torture a twelve- or thirteen-year-old girl into this state?

"How are you?" Ming Tian stepped forward and gently patted the girl.

Perhaps because she had taken medicine and received bandaging, she could manage the most basic reactions now.

Her eyes seemed frozen. Slowly, after what felt like a very long time, they drifted to Ming Tian’s face.

But the moment her gaze finally focused and she saw him clearly, fear once again climbed up inside her heart.

"I... I’m sorry..."

The girl somehow found the strength, perhaps driven by sheer terror, to struggle up, kneel before Ming Tian, and slam her forehead desperately against the bedboard in repeated kowtows.

"I’m sorry, sir, I won’t do it again, I really won’t. Please forgive me, I won’t do it again..."

Her voice was hoarse, more like the croaking of a duck than the voice of a girl.

She kowtowed frantically, terrified of provoking anger, while tears streamed down her face.

One could even see that her tears were faintly pink.

That happened when someone cried too hard, causing the tear ducts to bleed.

When she saw her tears dripping onto the white quilt, she became even more frightened.

Scrambling and rolling, she climbed off the bed and began kowtowing to Ming Tian again. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sir. I dirtied your blanket. I’m sorry. Please don’t punish me... I won’t do it again..."

Her dignity—no, even her personhood—had already been shattered.

Watching her slam her head down so hard, Ming Tian reached out and placed his hand between her forehead and the floor.

The girl lifted her head and looked at this handsome stranger in confusion.

Ming Tian looked back at her and gave her a gentle smile. "Don’t be afraid. You’re safe now."

For a moment, in the girl’s eyes, Ming Tian seemed wrapped in a sheet of golden holy light.

As though a god had descended.