Chapter 12
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Chapter 12: So, was that why Jiang Wu occasionally touched her thigh in the afternoon?
The convoy consisted of ten guards, each accompanying one of the two carts carrying supplies, and another with Master Xu\’s carriage, leaving seven to supervise thirty-nine prisoners. Excluding Tan Wang, who occasionally adjusted his pace to patrol, the remaining six guards each oversaw six to seven prisoners.
As the group reached a sloped area, Tan Wang slowed his steps, standing at a slightly elevated spot to quickly count the passing convoy.
At the rear, Zhao Qi, who had been beside Jiang Wu, approached Tan Wang with a blade of grass in his mouth, swaying with each step. He grinned mischievously, \"Tan, no need to be so tense. They\’re just old and young folks. Even if they dared to run, they wouldn’t survive in the wilderness.\"
Tan Wang ignored Zhao Qi but didn’t refute him.
Most prisoners came from affluent backgrounds. Aside from a few adults, the majority were elderly, women, and children—nine of the thirty-nine being under ten. These were exiled for corruption, excessive direct criticism, or involvement in the Female Crown Prince case, making them easier to manage than past exiles convicted of heinous crimes.
Yet they couldn’t be underestimated.
Before departure, Tan Wang had reviewed the prisoners’ records. The one needing utmost attention was Li Dayong, son of the Deposed Crown Prince’s wet nurse, and the Prince’s former milk brother and imperial guard. Since Li Dayong’s team saved the emperor at a hunting ground last year, his mother and sister—servants in the Empress’s palace—received exile rather than execution. Li Dayong’s downfall was collateral damage.
As a former imperial guard, Li Dayong received special \"attention\": heavier leg irons and a permanent neck shackle unless absolutely necessary.
Other adult males wore leg irons and handcuffs, while women and children only had leg irons. This wasn’t mercy—their pampered backgrounds meant excessive restraints left them immobile and weeping. With colder northern paths ahead, they needed speed on this easier stretch. Delays meant trouble later.
Tan Wang hoped to avoid repeats of yesterday’s hill-jumping incident. Otherwise, he’d shackle and rope everyone together, even if it slowed them.
He frowned at the wooden cart trailing behind, where the troublemaker lay steadily, then glanced at Jiang Wu pushing it, his hair drenched in sweat.
By noon, after half a day’s journey, he’d pushed it alone, seemingly with energy to spare.
Clearly, Li Dayong wasn’t the only one needing watch.
\"Zhao Qi.\" Tan Wang strode forward, kicking Zhao Qi who’d wandered ahead. He warned sternly, \"You chose rear guard—stay there. Keep drifting, and you’ll miss prisoners vanishing.\"
\"I’m watching,\" Zhao Qi retorted, glancing back at the cart. He smirked, \"That rickety thing creaks and clunks. If it stops, I’ll hear.\"
Tan Wang’s expression darkened.
\"Fine, I’ll guard it,\" Zhao Qi grumbled, halting reluctantly.
As Tan Wang moved to patrol ahead, an elderly man stopped.
\"Sir, I…\" Qin Chongli turned pale, looking at Zhao Qi.
\"Not again,\" Zhao Qi snapped, already irked. \"Twice this morning! Should I drop everything for your needs? If I’m not watching, we’d lose half the prisoners—could you handle that? One cake caused all this? Prove it’s real—do it in your pants.\"
Qin Chongli, decades steeped in scholarly dignity, recoiled at the vulgarity, his stomach cramping worse.
Tan Wang watched coldly. Truly, ancient times saw chickens killed to scare monkeys; today, words were slapped in his face. Whatever they’d promised Zhao Qi, not two days in, he was already challenging authority. Wasn’t Tan Wang in charge here, besides Master Xu?
\"With me.\" Tan Wang tugged Qin Chongli’s handcuffs, cutting Zhao Qi off.
\"Grandfather, I also need…\" Qin Haoyang clutched his stomach weakly.
\"See how kind Tan is?\" Zhao Qi sneered. \"Old and young troubling me all morning over two cakes. They should prove it’s real.\"
Ultimately, Tan Wang led both to nearby trees for cover.
On the wooden cart, Du Yinsui pitied them. The moldy mung bean cake’s potency… truly formidable. She regretted it deeply. If she ever got another, she’d try harder to eat a cleaner piece.
Du Yinsui sighed gently within her soul for the two, then heard Jiang Wu muttering softly ahead.
\"Diarrhea, diarrhea…\"
\"Purslane, its leaves resemble horse teeth, slippery like amaranth, soft stems spread on the ground, small leaves opposite…\"
\"Nutmeg, flowers and fruits resemble cardamom but are seedless, with wrinkled skins…\"
…
Du Yinsui’s soul sighed again for Jiang Wu. To be honest, he was reciting quite well. Although she didn’t know what nutmeg, ground ivy, schisandra, hop, or coix seed were, she had eaten purslane before. Judging by her heightened sense of smell that morning, they had already passed purslane… twice.
Such herbs were hard to notice unless intentionally sought, especially since they were being escorted and could only follow the group.
Now she could only hope the toughened stomachs of the elderly and the child, weathered by stale prison provisions and journey rations, would endure this.
Qin Chongli knew well that during exile, illnesses had no remedy beyond endurance. He could tough it out, but his young grandson might not.
Though reluctant to bother the guards frequently, they went three times that morning and twice more during the half-hour lunch break. By afternoon, Qin Chongli’s steps faltered, and Qin Haoyang’s legs were too weak to walk.
\"Let little Haoyang ride here,\" Jiang Wu had suggested several times that morning, but was refused. By afternoon, refusal was impossible.
Chu Xiulan, who’d carried Qin Ruoyao all morning, placed the little one on the cart. Pointing at the injured girl, she patted the child’s head: \"Sit carefully. Don’t touch your sister’s hurt hands, feet, or head. Understand?\"
After the child nodded obediently, Chu Xiulan pulled her son close and whispered, \"Don’t worry. Mother will carry you.\"
Jiang Wu: \"…\"
\"This will do. Thank you,\" Chu Xiulan smiled at Jiang Wu, stopping his protest before it started.
The rickety cart had loose planks, forcing the pusher to constantly adjust balance. Jiang Wu already struggled—managing one lightweight child was hard enough. The rest had to persevere alone.
\"Grandfather can carry you too,\" Qin Chongli patted his grandson, pale-faced, then guiltily averted his eyes under his daughter-in-law’s pointed stare.
As the cart moved again, Du Yinsui felt something warm and chubby press against her.
Good! Closer!
Feel the flour sack covering me!
Feel that round boiled egg!
Just as excitement surged, soft snores beside her made Du Yinsui laugh bitterly.
Fine. You’re as oblivious as Jiang Wu—holding me yet noticing nothing.
Well done, you little expert at hiding moldy mung bean cakes!
Like her earlier silent cries, Du Yinsui’s complaints went unheard by Jiang Wu.
Pushing the heavier cart, Jiang Wu glanced down at the two lying quietly on the plank. Despite the weight, a fleeting peace washed over him.
But seeing Du Yinsui’s blood-stained bandages, regret resurfaced.
He regretted his inexperience when hastily dispatched to Fengzhou for disaster relief last year. He’d skimmed books on post-flood epidemics, only to find myriad injuries and illnesses on arrival. Overwhelmed by duties, deeper study became impossible.
Who could’ve foreseen today?
At least he should’ve memorized herbs for wounds…
Unaware, Jiang Wu had already missed multiple \"diarrhea\" remedies that morning.
Perhaps stale rations had toughened their stomachs, or having eaten just one cake with scant water left nothing to purge.
By afternoon, the elderly and child improved slightly.
Though feeble, they only drew the guards’ ire once.
The exile path didn’t always follow official roads. Seasoned guards adjusted routes for speed, distance, and rest stops, so proper shelter wasn’t guaranteed.
That night, the group halted on a flat rivershore.
Prisoners were herded together while guards scouted nearby trees for chaining—their sleeping quarters.
Before separation, Jiang Wu tugged Chu Xiulan’s sleeve.
\"Sister Chu, it’s been a full day and night. The Du girl hasn’t… relieved herself. Could her fall have caused damage?\" Jiang Wu’s face flushed deeper than the setting sun.
His whisper was soft, but the cart was close.
So that’s why Jiang Wu kept touching her thigh that afternoon?
Du Yinsui’s soul bristled with rage—she’d assumed he finally smelled the spoiling egg!
All that excitement wasted!
Truly impressive, Jiang Wu!
