Xinxin hauled Liu Yan's thin body up the stairs. They practically fell through the door, and with her last ounce of strength, she pulled him into the middle of the room so she could close the door.
After that, they lay close together on the cold, hard wooden floor. Although the room was neither heated nor particularly comfortable, they simply lay there for a while. Only when she had enough strength did she roll onto her side and get up with difficulty.
Liu Yan had lost consciousness. Xinxin brushed a strand of black, frozen hair from his pale face. His features looked relaxed, like those of a dead man. His breathing was shallow, and his forehead was burning. Xinxin tore the parchment stacked on his desk into pieces and stuffed it into the holes and cracks in the windows and wooden floor.
Then, with trembling fingers, she lit the remains in the charcoal bowl before clearing away the desk. As quickly as she could, she cleared away all the blankets she could find and pulled Liu Yan onto the thin mattress.
Then she freed him from his wet clothes and wrapped them both in the stacked blankets. So that they could keep each other warm. It took a while for Liu Yan's cold, frozen body to slowly warm up.
Xinxin held him in her arms as his body shook with convulsions, and he clung to her in delirium. He sweated profusely and tried to free himself from the blankets, only to snuggle up to her again, shivering, the next moment.
How cruel it must be for him, unable to control his own body, dependent on the mercy of someone else. She knew he didn't trust her, didn't even particularly like her. Still, he had no choice but to hope for the best, over and over again.
Xinxin gently stroked his crossed arms while she herself still had to process what Zhao Huan had done to her.
Strapped to a wooden chair, she had spread out a tray in front of her. On it lay silver needles of various lengths and sizes. Vials, bottles, and powders were draped on it, and at first Xinxin had no idea what the second young lady was up to.
Xinxin did have extensive knowledge of medicine and herbal medicine. But what Zhao Huan had made her hobby was beyond her imagination.
Zhao Huan used a sharp knife to make small, razor-thin cuts in Xinxin's arms and thighs before using the long, shiny needles to distribute the various substances on and into her body.
Curious, like a child discovering something new for the first time, she watched Xinxin writhe in pain. It felt as if she were burning inside. As if her skin were slowly peeling away from her flesh and her bones were becoming brittle and breaking.
For hours, Huan tortured her with poison, no matter how much she begged for forgiveness and mercy. Xinxin shuddered as she looked at the fine, half-closed cuts on her arms. Soon, they would be invisible, and the second young lady's actions would disappear without a trace. She had nothing more than her word, nothing more than an accusation that no one would believe.
"No one, not even you!" she whispered, suppressing the tears and pain that welled up inside her.
She knew the feeling of betrayal, the feeling of being alone, and what it was like when there was no one left in the world only too well. It was these feelings, this pain and hopelessness of having lost everything, that drove her into the river. She had been here for weeks, and no one had rescued her. No one had come.
"I hate them." Tears ran down her cheeks as she clung to Liu Yan as tightly as he clung to her.
None of them had come to rescue her; they didn't care about her, she wasn't relevant. She was nobody.
Enveloped in a cocoon of heat and pain, she drifted away. She only came to when Liu Yan stopped moving.
Xinxin started, but after briefly examining him, she breathed a sigh of relief. He was only unconscious, the fever was subsiding, and his body was no longer convulsing. She carefully laid him down on the mattress and crawled out from under the blankets.
She carefully hung up the clothes she had simply thrown in a corner. Everything outside was strangely quiet, and she wondered what had triggered the sudden change of heart. Zhao Hua and Zhao Huan clearly had no intention of letting her survive this time. A hot and cold shiver ran down her spine.
***
Meanwhile, the entire Zhao family knelt in their main hall while a man who bore a strong resemblance to Liu Yan paced back and forth in front of them.
He was tall, but his body was more muscular, his black hair braided into elaborate plaits that fell over his shoulders. A hair crown from the imperial family adorned his head, and he was dressed in the white and light blue colors of the ruling family.
His dark eyes gazed at the finely carved beams and door frame representing the Zhao's first successful battle. Horses reared up on a battlefield as the first Zhao raised his sword against the barbarians and liberated the land from the enemy. The man pacing back and forth in front of the members of the Zhao family was named Tian Weiye.
"Your Highness!" Zhao Jisheng tried again, but Weiye simply raised a hand and silenced him. His gaze shifted to the Zhao daughters.
He had already met Zhao Hua at the ceremony when his brother had left the imperial family and followed her. He liked the fire in her eyes and her obvious disgust for her brother.
He found Tian Liu Yan too weak and fragile. His younger brother had been locked up and isolated his entire life, and whenever he caught a glimpse of him, he was always surprised at how petite a man could be.
From a distance, with his long black hair, he could have been mistaken for a woman.
But he was not here because of his brother but because of his engagement to the second young lady, which his father was pressuring him about. Weiye's gaze shifted to Zhao Huan. She was clearly more graceful, more beautiful, like a flower. But she did not look at him, her gaze fixed on the floor as if he were not worthy of her attention.
Tian Weiye knew the rumors that she was secretly promised to Zhao Jisheng's adopted son, Li Wangxi. But giving the rising star of the army the power of a Zhao daughter was out of the question for Emperor Tian Teng Fei.
Weiye didn't care who he ended up marrying, whether it was Zhao Huan or someone else. He would have his fun with willing women as soon as his duty was fulfilled.
As the second prince, he was free to keep a harem of concubines. He didn't care what his older brother and crown prince, Tian Zhi Xiang, thought about it. He was already married to the princess of an allied country and was soon expecting his first child.
Once Tian Liu Yan's marriage was consummated, Weiye would also marry. Zhao Huan had no reason to be conceited. Even if his father had promised her the title of princess consort, she would certainly not be his first wife. The second daughter of the house could never be more than a second wife.
Tian Weiye sat down in the seat that was normally reserved for the head of the family. Zhao Xu, who also had to kneel, gave her son a withering look. Zhao Jisheng returned her gaze helplessly. What could he do against the second prince? Weiye crossed his legs and let his gaze wander over the assembled guests.
"Where is my brother?" he asked casually. Zhao Jisheng made himself even smaller. He was certainly a man who felt compassion.
He would never walk past a starving street child without at least throwing them some alms, and he also felt pity for the street dogs that froze to death in droves in winter. But when it came to Zhao Hua, he always turned a blind eye to her actions.
In his eyes, his eldest daughter had to shoulder an unreasonable burden and had every right to take out her trauma on Liu Yan. After all, that was exactly what he was there for, wasn't it?
He glanced over at his daughter. Zhao Hua bowed a little deeper to the second prince.
"He is resting in his room," she replied without any emotion. Weiye looked at his immaculate fingernails and nodded deliberately.
"Far be it from me to interfere in your relationship. Nevertheless, I must admonish you, Zhao Hua. Tian Liu Yan is still part of the imperial family and shoulders the burden of the curse. His existence gives the people of our country a sense of relief. Knowing that there is someone who bears all the bad karma without it falling back on them is an important part of our functioning society," he admonished her sternly.
Zhao Hua bowed even lower. For the first time, a guilty conscience showed on her face. In fact, no one cared how Liu Yian was treated or whether he was doing well. Whether he was happy or not. He just couldn't die. Zhao Hua nodded.
"I understand!" she said quietly. Weiye stood up.
"Miss Huan, would you be so kind as to show your future fiancé around the estate?" he asked indifferently. Zhao Huan flinched almost imperceptibly, her gaze betraying her displeasure, but when she looked up, she smiled gently at the second prince and rose.
"Of course," she said stiffly and curtsied.
Tian Weiye let her lead him out. They walked through the courtyards for a while, and Zhao Hua explained the various meanings of the architectural artistry. Everywhere, there were carvings on the roof beams immortalizing legendary battles, murals, and dragon sculptures.
In front of the ancestral hall, Zhao Huan bowed reverently but did not let him enter. When Tian Weiye believed he had fulfilled his duty sufficiently, he stopped and interrupted an explanation by the second young lady.
"Miss Zhao Huan, let's stop there," he said resignedly. Zhao Huan stopped her explanation and folded her hands.
With her hair pinned up, fine jewelry, and large eyes, she truly looked like a goddess. But Weiye had been surrounded by beautiful women his entire life, so he was not impressed by her appearance.
"You will soon receive an invitation to the imperial court. I expect you and your family to accept it, and we will celebrate our engagement soon," he said.
"I hope you know your place. For the good of your family and the people, it should also be in your interest to marry into the imperial family."
"If I marry you, I will never be free again," Zhao Huan replied. Weiye laughed.
"What freedom does a woman like you hope for? You will be the wife of a prince and thus achieve more in your life than your older sister. You should thank the gods for that alone," he added mockingly. Zhao Huan stiffened and took a step back.
"Leave it to your brothers to continue the Zhao bloodline. Your entire history will not be lost; it will only become more closely intertwined with the imperial family."
"You don't seem to care what I think about it, Your Highness," Zhao Huan replied sharply. Tian Weiye gave her an appraising look.
"With all due respect, no one cares what either of us thinks about it. First and foremost, we must fulfill our duty to our country. As a prince, my hands are just as tied as yours. But I must admit, it angers me that you are so reluctant to marry me," he admitted.
"I am not like my brother. I am neither so weak and useless nor so cursed!"
Zhao Huan looked at him with utter rejection. There were tears in her eyes, but Weiye remained unmoved.
"But I don't love you," she said, as if he had overlooked something important. Weiye snorted.
"One does not marry for love, miss. I believe you have been told too many romantic stories. People like us marry solely for the good of the country and its people. We marry for advantage, not for love!" He laughed as he left her standing there and walked back alone.
Zhao Huan took a deep breath but still couldn't stop the tears from running down her cheeks. What had she done to deserve such a terrible fate? She had always been careful, beautiful, and graceful.
She had fulfilled all expectations of her, and yet she was not allowed to have the one thing she really wanted? Li Wangxi?
For years she had stood up to her sister, only to end up with such a snooty, arrogant man who didn't even appreciate her.
Angrily, she turned on her heel and disappeared in the direction of her chambers.
She had to write a letter to Li Wangxi before it was too late.
***
Xinxin stuffed the parchment back into the hole as Zhao Huan and the other man parted ways. She had heard their heated, angry voices from here.
Putting two and two together, she could guess who the visitor had been. Prince Tian Weiye. He was considered a handsome, intelligent man, but also cold and calculating. After all, he was virtually invisible to his father and his people, caught between his older brother, who bore the burden of the country, and his younger brother, who was born a curse and also carried an unreal burden.
Xinxin glanced at Liu Yan. He was still very pale, and his forehead was glistening with sweat. With great difficulty, she had managed to get him to drink some water and a decoction to lower his fever.
***
She spent the next few days mainly nursing Tian Liu Yan back to health and avoiding the two daughters of the house.
She became so skilled at this that no one took her seriously anymore. Most probably thought she had died as a result of the second young lady's torture.
When the first buds sprouted and the snow slowly receded, the head of the household received a message that they had all tried to suppress.
Xinxin had pressed herself into a corner and kept her head down as she stubbornly scrubbed a piece of the wooden floor. Zhao Jisheng sighed heavily as he weighed the imperial scroll in his hands. Zhao Xu stepped up to him, shaking her head and closing her eyes.
"So, is it time now?" she asked her son. Jisheng nodded.
"We should prepare ourselves for a long stay in the imperial palace. Tian Teng Fei won't let us go so quickly," he replied wearily.
"What has our family done to deserve such punishment?" Zhao Xu asked desperately.
Xinxin paused and glanced furtively at the two of them. If someone asked her, she wouldn't even know where to begin. Instead, she pulled the fabric of her clothes over her head and stubbornly continued cleaning.