In the capital, a small teahouse had been newly erected on the site of the former Xingyang Bookstore. After leaving Jiang Youyu’s estate with Fengfeng, A Shui returned to the capital. She leased the old location of Xingyang Bookstore and built a modest teahouse, which was still under construction. In the meantime, she often took Fengfeng for quiet walks through the city streets, sometimes carrying the child when they grew tired.
Fengfeng had begun taking a few steps on his own, but still needed to be carried most of the time.
The streets of the capital were bustling, especially during the temple fair that had recently begun. Stalls lined the roads, selling embroidered goods, jewelry, brushes and ink, lavish headwear, hats, books, paintings, medicinal incense, woven mats, saddles, bridles, bows, and arrows—everything imaginable. The crowds were lively, and the atmosphere was festive. As she strolled, A Shui occasionally bought small items.
She knew that the largest restaurant on the eastern side of Cross Street had once been a branch of Wanqiao Zhai. Another tavern behind the Imperial Ancestral Temple had also belonged to Wanqiao Zhai. But after Young Master Tang publicly declared himself the master of Fengliudian and openly abducted Abbot Puzhu, the entire martial world branded him a heretic. To prevent Wanqiao Zhai from being implicated, he sold off the business. The proceeds were used to disband its members—just as she had been. Those who followed Young Master Tang, whether useful or not, would at least receive a box of silver notes.
Young Master Tang demanded submission, gratitude, unwavering loyalty, and willing devotion... Yet when he asserted his authority or bestowed favors, he never left anyone with nothing.
Was that... considered victory?
A Shui gazed at the boundless mortal world before her. Perhaps... before you could win someone’s willing devotion, you had already given everything away. Or perhaps... Young Master Tang was omnipotent, always achieving exactly what he desired.
A commotion broke out nearby—a thief had snatched several hairpins from a jewelry stall in broad daylight and fled into an alley. A group of young men quickly gave chase, overpowered the thief, and returned the stolen goods to the vendor. The grateful vendor offered them some of his own steamed buns in thanks.
A Shui smiled faintly, but before the smile could fade, one of the young men suddenly collapsed in the street. The crowd erupted in shock, and she, too, was startled. She hurried forward, only to see red streaks rapidly darkening to black on the boy’s face and hands. The youth writhed in agony, howling in pain.
Was this... the poison of the Nine Hearts Pill? She stared in disbelief at the boy, who couldn’t have been more than fifteen or sixteen. Where could a child have come into contact with such a toxin? As the poison took hold, bystanders rushed to help, but she quickly called out, "Wait! This boy has been poisoned—it’s highly contagious. Please step back!"
The crowd turned in surprise at the sight of a beautiful woman holding a child’s hand. A Shui led Fengfeng forward. Though she had never formally studied the antidote for the Nine Hearts Pill, she had picked up fragments of knowledge from Liu Yan. Before returning to the capital, both Liu Yan and Shui Duopo had given her some medicinal defenses—including an antidote for this very poison.Taking only the antidote for the Nine Hearts Pill cannot fully detoxify the poison, but at least it can reduce the agony of the outbreak. A-Shui took out a green jade medicine bottle, poured out a black pill, and forced it into the mouth of the poisoned youth writhing on the ground. The boy was in excruciating pain, his face and hands covered in terrifying black spots. The Nine Hearts Pill poison he had ingested was extremely potent, unlike any A-Shui had seen before. Years ago, the pills distributed by Liu Yan would cause red spots, not black ones, upon poisoning. Those red spots were neither fatal nor painful.
Seeing the boy swallow the antidote, she pulled a hairpin from her bun and inserted it about an inch and a half into the "Waiqiu point" on his calf. Fengfeng sat on the ground, watching her save the boy with great curiosity. After taking the medicine and receiving the acupuncture, the black spots on the boy's body slowly turned red, and his agonized cries ceased. It was clear that while A-Shui's methods weren't comprehensive, they still had some effect.
A young boy who stood up against injustice—so young—should not die from the poison of the Nine Hearts Pill.
He didn’t even have time to eat the steamed bun the peddler had given him.
"Who are you?" the boy's companion shouted. "How did you know Wen Yao's poison could spread to others?"
Another anxiously asked, "How do you have the antidote?"
"Who are you people?" The peddler, terrified by the black-spotted savior, hastily packed up his stall and prepared to leave.
"Mom—" Fengfeng suddenly burst into loud sobs.
Amid the clamor, Wen Yao, who had been "violently poisoned" on the ground, suddenly opened his eyes, grabbed A-Shui's hand, and pulled out the hairpin from his calf. "So you are A-Shui. You really do have the antidote."
Caught off guard, A-Shui froze for a moment before sighing softly.
She didn’t speak, nor was she particularly surprised.
After all, the likelihood of encountering a heroic young man standing up against injustice in the marketplace, only for him to suddenly suffer a poison outbreak requiring her intervention, was naturally slim. But whether it was real or not, she could never stand by and watch a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old boy die from poisoning—she would always offer the antidote.
"I can't believe Young Master Tang actually let you go without leaving you with a couple of hidden guards," Wen Yao, who appeared to be in his mid-teens, feigned astonishment. "Ah, I see now. Tang Lizci is selling off his family's assets and can barely protect himself. He probably has neither the money nor the time—to ensure your safety."
A-Shui gripped Fengfeng's hand tightly but remained silent.
To forget each other in the vast world... was the outcome she had sought.
Who could... not harbor illusions about Young Master Tang? Even if she resisted with all her might, knowing it was futile, she couldn’t help but feel pity for him. If he ever needed her... A-Shui would feel both pity and guilt for his kindness, willing to sacrifice her life. But A-Shui was alone in this world—her life was as light as duckweed, worthless, serving only to prove that Young Master Tang could always force you to love him at the cost of your life, proving he would always win—and after that—there would be nothing left.
Young Master Tang did not need her lifelong infatuation.
He only wanted to win.
And in her life, she had never planned for Young Master Tang to be part of it.
She could lose.
She had once foolishly dreamed of a warm, amusing little cook without any ulterior motives.
But the little cook was a lie—he had never existed.All her girlish sentiments had silently shattered upon encountering Hao Wenhou and Liu Yan, only to be obliterated again when she discovered the little chef was not who he seemed. Thrown out by Young Master Tang, their mutual dignity lay in ruins—though compared to his, her own dignity was insignificant. She had been broken time and again, but so what? It was her own affair, and whether she lived or died, no one truly cared.
Yet what one experiences, whether anyone cares, even whom one loves or does not love—these are merely fragments of life.
Some regard love as life itself.
But she refused to be so barren.
She resolved to live well, to forget Hao Wenhou, to choose to raise Fengfeng, to sympathize with but never forgive Liu Yan, and to stay far away from Young Master Tang... These were her own choices.
Each person’s fate is different; joy and sorrow, parting and reunion, are matters of the heart, not right or wrong.
She took one of Young Master Tang’s banknotes and left. He avoided seeing her, and from then on, their debts were settled, their paths diverged—this was the best ending for them.
Wen Yao seized A’Shi, inwardly triumphant—others always suspected that Tang Lizhi had stationed hidden guards or assassins around this maid. But he had argued that with Tang Lizhi currently beset on all sides, how could he spare any attention for this girl? Though insignificant, she might have seen The Book of Rebirth . The Xingyang Bookhouse had once printed its own editions, and if any printing plates remained from back then, their whereabouts might well lie with A’Shi. But this could not be revealed to her—if she learned the true significance of The Book of Rebirth , things would surely take a turn.
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