Chapter 11 – Gong Mohan Looks Directly at Ziling for the First Time

Ziling had been a medical doctor in the modern world, and she also knew a thing or two about dealing with people. On this exile road, it was crucial to get along with the government escorts—only then would the journey be smoother. Otherwise, with a family full of old and young, some sick and some weak, surviving until they reached the place of exile would be near impossible. Winning over the guards was the only way.

“Officers, I just went out to fetch water and happened upon a peddler passing through. I bought some steamed buns and eggs for my family, and also for you, sirs, to have a taste.” After speaking, Ziling handed over the buns and eggs.

Zhang Meng gave the food a quick glance, then asked, “Did you find water?” Earlier, they had also sent men to look for water, but not a drop was found. This village had clearly been abandoned for lack of it. Yet how had she managed to find some?

Ziling’s heart jolted—bad news. What should she say? She couldn’t afford to slip up. Best to say she bought it. “Officer, I didn’t find the water. It was also bought from the peddler. He said this place has long been in drought. He hadn’t wanted to sell it at all, but I pleaded with him—told him I had a sick family member in urgent need of water. Finally, he agreed to sell me this small jar.”

Zhang Meng jerked his chin at another officer to take the buns, then sat back down to drink.

Ziling secretly sighed in relief. Barely got away with it. She mustn’t be this careless again. With that in mind, she returned to where her family was seated. Turning her back to the other prisoners, she took some buns from the bundle. She winked at Ying’er, who quickly scurried over to sit beside her sister-in-law, eagerly taking the bun and chomping down.

Ziling noticed her mother-in-law looking at her in surprise and explained, “I went to fetch water and happened upon a peddler. I bought these buns from him.”

Seeing his little sister eating, Gong Hao swallowed hard. Because he had refused the dry rations at noon, he had spent the whole afternoon walking hungry, nearly out of strength. Now he worried his sister-in-law might not give him anything.

Catching his pitiful expression out of the corner of her eye, Ziling almost laughed. She handed a bun to her mother-in-law first, then finally gave one to Gong Hao. “Eat.”

As if afraid she might change her mind, Gong Hao grabbed the bun immediately. Ziling and her mother-in-law exchanged a look, pretending not to notice the boy’s embarrassment mixed with endearing innocence.

Meanwhile, Gong Mohan sat off to the side, his handsome face expressionless and cold. Watching her dote on her family made him feel a twinge of discomfort. She treated them so well, yet he had been here all this time, and she hadn’t once come to see him.

Still lost in thought, he suddenly caught a faint fragrance lingering at his side. Someone sat down beside him. Gong Mohan raised his head—this was the first time he had truly looked at his bride up close. Her skin was fair; though she wasn’t stunning enough to topple kingdoms, she had a pair of beautiful, expressive eyes that set her apart.

“What, you’re not going to eat?”

A pale, delicate hand held a bun out to him. He realized he had been staring and quickly masked his distraction with defiance. “I don’t want it.”

“Don’t want it?” Ziling arched a brow. “If you don’t eat, then you won’t eat. You saw at noon—I don’t indulge people. Say you don’t want it, and you won’t get another bite. With your body like this, if you don’t eat soon, you probably won’t last two days. By then, I’ll be free to remarry.”

Her words made Gong Mohan’s face darken as he turned away. This woman was infuriating!

But Ziling, being a doctor, never truly intended to let a wounded man starve. She only wanted to tease him a little.

Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she took a bite of the bun herself. “Oh? Does my husband want me to feed you?” She even placed a hand on his thigh and leaned in slightly, pretending she would really feed him if he refused. Gong Mohan startled and hurriedly snatched the bun from her.

Hah, see? Still a shy boy. Ziling smirked to herself. “Eat up. Once you’re done, I’ll take a look at your injuries. I just gathered some herbs.”

“You know medicine?”

Know? I’m a PhD in medicine, she thought. But in this era, they wouldn’t even know what that meant. So she just said lightly, “A little.”

Gong Mohan gave her a probing look.

Ziling didn’t notice. She was already thinking about how to treat him. The wound on his arm wasn’t too serious—it would take time, but it wasn’t complicated. The real problem was his leg. Just now, when she teased him, she had pressed on it, and he hadn’t reacted at all. That meant he couldn’t feel it. Whoever had struck him was vicious, intending to cripple him permanently so the General’s household could never rise again.

At that moment, one of the officers barked, “We’ll stay here tonight. No one leaves this yard. Anyone caught escaping—one hundred lashes for the runner, fifty for their family.”

Without another glance, he left two men to stand guard while the other three went into the only room in the courtyard.