The news that the eldest daughter of the Hua family had been assassinated outside the city, with her fate unknown, spread rapidly. Whether they were old acquaintances of the Hua family or held grudges against them, everyone felt the act was disgraceful. To strike at the foot of the imperial city—what did that make of the Emperor? What did it make of the court? Even if Hua Zhi had done certain things, every single one of them had brought benefits to everyone. How had it come to the point of taking her life? Such greed was utterly unsightly.
As for those closely acquainted with the Hua family, it went without saying—upon receiving the news, they rushed to the Hua residence without delay.
To make the act convincing, even after returning home, Hua Zhi was carried inside on a stretcher. Once settled in her quarters, she dismissed all unnecessary personnel and instructed Chen Qing, who stood by the door, "Send word to Shaoyao and have her return immediately."
"Yes, someone has already been dispatched."
"Also, stir the waters even more."
Chen Qing acknowledged the order and left.
Hua Zhi found excuses to send her senior maids away as well. She unfastened her outer garments, removed the soft armor beneath, and then took the arrow, threading it through the hole in her outer robe. She pushed it through the layers of clothing beneath until it pressed against her chest.
She shifted the arrow slightly to the side, closed her eyes, and exerted force. The arrowhead pierced her skin, and the sharp pain made her hand tremble. This near-self-mutilation filled her with intense aversion. After a brief pause, she applied more force, driving the arrow deeper. Even if it was an act, it had to be convincing.
Blood seeped out. She gently pressed her clothing, allowing the blood to soak through layer by layer. Only then did she pull the arrow out and toss it aside.
In that short time, her already pale face grew ashen, almost translucent, with strands of hair clinging damply to her forehead.
When Ying Chun entered with a basin of hot water and saw the scene, she was so startled she dropped the basin. "Miss, weren't you... weren’t you unharmed? How... how..."
"It’s just a flesh wound, nothing serious." Hua Zhi lay back. "Close the inner gate. Don’t let anyone from the rear courtyard come out, and don’t allow any news to reach the front."
"Miss!"
"I know what I’m doing."
Ying Chun bit her lip, her eyes reddening as she carefully pulled a quilt over her mistress. She stepped out and called for Bao Xia and Nian Qiu. "Are you certain Miss wasn’t injured earlier?"
The two exchanged glances and nodded. "Yes, we saw it with our own eyes."
Ying Chun instantly understood that this was her young lady’s deliberate act of suffering. She took a deep breath, instructed the two to attend to their mistress carefully, and had a junior maid clean up the spilled water in the room. Only then did she go to carry out her young lady’s orders.
It wasn’t until Bao Xia and Nian Qiu entered that they realized why Ying Chun had asked. Seeing the glaring red stain of blood on their young lady’s chest, they didn’t even need to ask why.
They had come to serve Hua Zhi when they were just four or five years old, raised and trained under her guidance. In the past, they hadn’t felt much different from other servants, but over the past year, they had clearly sensed the distinction. While other maids panicked and faltered, they knew what to do—those complex account books, those business dealings, tasks that others found daunting but came easily to them...
So how could they not understand why their young lady had done this? Yet, precisely because they understood, their hearts ached even more. Nian Qiu even felt like weeping bitterly on her mistress’s behalf. Why? Why must their young lady endure such harm? Even when unhurt by others, she had to inflict it upon herself—all to make the other party pay the price."Use diluted wine to wipe my body, take your time." Hua Zhi instructed with her eyes closed, her voice trembling slightly. The pain was excruciating; she had only known that fingers hurt because they connected to the heart, but never realized an injury near the heart could be this agonizing.
Nian Qiu wiped her tears and immediately went to prepare, while Bao Xia brought scissors and tremblingly cut open the clothing. Seeing the wound still seeping blood, her heart panicked uncontrollably. Even the slight brush of clothing against the wound made the young lady tremble—how would they manage when treating the wound properly? For someone as enduring as the young lady to be in such pain, it must be unbearably painful...
Noise came from outside the door. Bao Xia hurriedly drew the bed curtains and stood up looking toward the entrance, hoping it was Miss Shaoyao who had arrived.
But it was Old Madam Zhu.
Zhu Shan supported her as she entered quickly, her usually gentle face now overcast with gloom. After entering the room, she pushed Zhu Shan aside and strode closer, ignoring Bao Xia's greetings as she lifted the bed curtains. She stared speechlessly at the exposed wound for a long moment.
She knew Zhi Er had been injured—the in-laws and the master had maintained contact—but hearing about it and seeing it with her own eyes were two different matters!
"Grandmother, have I frightened you? Don't worry, this injury only looks severe—it's not serious." As she spoke, Hua Zhi propped herself up as if feeling no pain, intending to sit up.
"Lie down properly." Old Madam Zhu ordered sternly, then turned and asked coldly, "Where is the physician? Has someone been sent to fetch one?"
"Someone has already been sent to fetch Miss Shaoyao." Knowing the old madam was blaming them for failing to protect the young lady, Bao Xia felt no resentment whatsoever. The truth was exactly that—they had been incompetent and failed to protect their young lady.
Hua Zhi grasped her grandmother's hand and shook it gently. Old Madam Zhu looked at her, her heart unbearably heavy.
She was just a young girl—though more sensible, more filial, more capable, and more remarkable than all the other young ladies, this didn't change the fact that she was merely seventeen years old. Why did she have to... have to live such a difficult life!
Her body was already in such poor condition, and with injuries like this she would surely have her lifespan shortened!
Old Madam Zhu's eyes reddened as she sat on the edge of the bed. She wanted to scold her, but no words would come out. What fault lay with her Zhi Er? The fault belonged to those who couldn't tolerate her!
"You don't need to force smiles here with me. If it hurts, moan a little—would your grandmother laugh at you?" Old Madam Zhu pulled the quilt higher, stopping just below the wound. Though she couldn't bear to look, her eyes kept drifting back to it. So much blood had been lost—it must be terribly painful.
"Your mother..."
"The inner gate has been locked." Though dizzy with pain, Hua Zhi showed no sign of it in her expression. "Ying Chun and the others can manage household affairs without disruption. However, if guests come calling, I'll have to trouble you to receive them. After all, their status is too low, and people don't regard them highly..."
"Worry less about such matters. Do you think I wouldn't handle it?"
Hua Zhi smiled faintly. "Yes, you've never abandoned us."
Old Madam Zhu suddenly turned away, tears falling like broken pearls. She struck her chest heavily several times, wiped her tears, and turned back. "Is there anything particular I should pay attention to?"
"If anyone asks about my injury, tell them it's on the chest, just half an inch from the heart. Don't worry though—it's actually not that serious." Seeing her grandmother's face suddenly change, Hua Zhi reassured her, "I'm just in pain, but the wound isn't deep."Old Madam stared fixedly at the wound, took a deep breath, and nodded. "I know what to do."
"Trust me, the wound really isn't deep. It's just that this particular location is rather sensitive—it hurts more than if it were anywhere else." Hua Zhi didn't mention that she had inflicted the injury herself. It wasn't that she distrusted her grandmother, but some things were better left unsaid. Moreover... she was afraid of being scolded.
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