Chapter 19

Gu Yu looked over Zhao Mingzhu’s answer, recalculated it herself—and to her surprise, Zhao Mingzhu had actually gotten it right. She snorted, “Blind cat ran into a dead mouse.”

After all, Zhao Mingzhu hadn’t even written out the equations properly. It had to be a lucky guess.

Zhao Mingzhu gazed out at the clear blue sky, birds soaring overhead, “Let’s skip class. For the sake of springtime youth.”

An Yun stared at her, half tempted, half terrified, “But Master Lin is the strictest of them all. We’ve already made him mad—if he finds out we’re skipping, won’t he punish us to death?”

Zhao Mingzhu pondered, then turned with a gleam in her eye toward Gu Yu. “Princess.”

Gu Yu saw her expression and immediately sensed mischief brewing. “No.”

Shot down before she could even begin, Zhao Mingzhu wasn’t discouraged. She sidled up to Gu Yu with a cheeky grin, “Let’s sneak out and enjoy the spring together. Princess, your back looks sturdy—how about you take the blame?”

Gu Yu: “…”

Just as she was about to refuse, Zhao Mingzhu gave An Yun a look. The two of them clamped a hand over Gu Yu’s mouth and whisked her away.

Zhao Mingzhu chattered as they went: “Princess, you won’t lose out. An Yun’s covering the whole bill.”

Anyun: “Right! I’m paying!”

Then she realized: “Wait—why me?”

Zhao Mingzhu flashed a toothy grin, “Who got me kicked out in the first place?”

An Yun hunched her shoulders, muttering that she hadn’t expected to get it wrong even after wracking her brain.

The bustling street stretched in all directions. The three of them decided to change out of their academy uniforms. Gu Yu and An Yun came out of the changing room first, only to find Zhao Mingzhu standing in front of a full-length mirror, staring at her reflection, lost in thought.

“What are you looking at?” An Yun leaned in, following her gaze.

Nothing unusual.

Gu Yu frowned. “She changes clothes and gets possessed.”

Their comments made Zhao Mingzhu chuckle. She tapped the mirror with her fingertip and sighed in delight: “I’m just too beautiful. A face that puts flowers to shame, eclipses the moon, topples kingdoms…”

How could someone’s skin be this flawless and radiant without a single dab of powder or rouge—like she’d swallowed a whole sack of pearls. Ugh. All those expensive skincare products she used before? What a joke.

An Yun shivered dramatically and touched Zhao Mingzhu’s forehead. Still no fever.

Gu Yu closed her eyes. She’d expected this. Being around Zhao Mingzhu, it was hard not to feel secondhand embarrassment. She told herself to get used to it—it wasn’t the first time, and definitely wouldn’t be the last.

The two dragged their narcissistic companion out of the clothing shop. Zhao Mingzhu spotted someone ahead carrying a stick of candied hawthorn. Bright red hawthorn berries glistened under a glossy sugar glaze. Just the sight made her mouth water with sweet-and-sour anticipation.

Soon enough, Zhao Mingzhu was happily munching away, her eyes crinkling with joy.

Gu Yu didn’t take one. Skeptical, she asked, “Is it really that good?” As a royal princess raised on delicacies, she looked down on these rustic street snacks.

Zhao Mingzhu didn’t hesitate—she held one up to Gu Yu’s lips. “Just try it.”

Gu Yu was doubtful. She took a bite and scoffed, “Tastes awful.” But she still chewed slowly and swallowed.

An Yun tucked away her purse. She had similar tastes to Zhao Mingzhu and devoured hers in a flash—only half a berry remained.

Zhao Mingzhu held her handkerchief, hesitating. “An-zai, you…”

Gu Yu also noticed her odd expression and glanced at An Yun, then fell silent.

“What is it?” An yun asked, confused.

Zhao Mingzhu looked at her, and while speaking, popped the half-bitten hawthorn into her mouth and shook her head.

“Nothing.”

Better not tell her. When it comes to bugs in food, either you spot them beforehand, or you blissfully never know. That’s the true secret to happiness.

The three continued strolling. Zhao Mingzhu shopped like she was stocking a warehouse, buying nonstop. Gu Yu, arms full, finally asked, “How much are you planning to buy? Has the Eastern Palace gone so broke you have to buy your own combs?”

And why was she the one carrying everything? Wasn’t she supposed to be the scapegoat?

“Exactly. I even chop firewood in secret.”

Gu Yu had had enough. She joined in the spree, buying wildly like Zhao Mingzhu—and when she couldn’t carry more, she dumped it all on An Yun.

An Yun staggered behind them, buried under a mountain of goods, eyes glazed over. “Stop buying, please stop. I’m begging you.” She’d never hated her poor math skills more than now.

Eventually, Zhao Mingzhu got tired. She looked ahead at the Chaoyang Restaurant and said, “Let’s get lunch. I heard they serve a six-hundred-tael plate of baby bok choy.”

An Yun sighed in relief. Finally, no more torture. “Let’s go, quick!”

Zhao Mingzhu turned to her. “An-zai, did you bring enough money? If we end up dining and dashing, we’ll be stuck washing dishes in the back for a year to pay it off.”

An Yun dropped her bundles and wiped her sweaty forehead. Her cheeks flushed, and she said casually. “No need to pay. This whole street of shops belongs to my family.”

Zhao Mingzhu looked back—the path behind was unclear. She looked ahead—no end in sight.

Zhao Mingzhu: !!!

Gu Yu strode ahead. Zhao Mingzhu asked if she was walking so fast because she was hungry.

Gu Yu shook her head. “I’m going to order two plates of bok choy—eat one, flip the other.”

Zhao Mingzhu gave her a thumbs-up. “Classy!”

As they approached the restaurant, they saw a crowd gathered. They squeezed through to see what was going on.

A sign stood tall: Selling myself to bury my father.

It appeared—the classic novel trope!

But Zhao Mingzhu stared at the man in white, sobbing pitifully: “?”

She’d read plenty of novels, but never one like this. Wasn’t it usually a delicate girl waiting for the hero to swoop in and save her?

Zhao Mingzhu leaned toward Gu Yu. “He’s kind of good-looking. Should we buy him as a concubine?” He looked familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him.

Gu Yu shot her a look. “Why don’t you buy him and have him serve my royal brother in the Eastern Palace?”

Zhao Mingzhu imagined the scene and instantly got goosebumps. Nope, hard pass.

An Yun rubbed her chin. “I could buy him. He can work during the day and do my homework at night.”

Her voice wasn’t loud, but just enough for the man to hear. He wiped his tears and said, “If Miss buys me, I’ll be yours. Just give me food and a place to stay, and I’ll serve you faithfully.”

Zhao Mingzhu asked An Yun, “You really want to buy him?”

An Yun nodded. He wasn’t expensive anyway. She pulled out her purse and handed over the An family token.

“Take this. Go to Sophora Alley outside Zhuque Street and find my servants. They’ll take care of you.”

The man, dressed in mourning clothes, blushed and bowed repeatedly. “I’ll repay Miss’s kindness with all my heart. I’ll never forget your great favor!”

An Yun waved him off, and the three girls entered the restaurant. The mouthwatering aroma of food wafted through the air.

Zhao Mingzhu was still stunned by the whole “selling himself to bury his father” thing.

Gu Yu rolled her eyes. “You’re too sheltered. Go hang out at the West Market more. There are men looking to marry into rich families all the time—preferably ones where the father-in-law’s dead and the inheritance goes to them. Nothing new.”

Gu Yu snorted. “Toads chasing frogs. Ugly and shameless.”

An Yun pushed open the private room she often used and said, “That’s nothing. My distant cousin once looked for a live-in husband. A man volunteered, swearing he’d never betray her. Later, we found out he’d just gotten out of prison—for harassing respectable women.”

“When confronted, he said that’s exactly why he’d learned his lesson and would never do it again. My cousin was so furious she grabbed a knife to kill him—and then tried to marry him in a ghost wedding.”