98 A Guinea Pig’s Plan (2/2)

He withdrew in a panic, not knowing what to say. As Zhan Beiye was overly anxious, he had forgotten about the curtain cloth in his hand.

Rip–––

It came tearing down!

Meng Fuyao's half squat above the toilet bowl was instantly captured by the individuals who joined in.

A brief silence followed.

”Die, Zhan Beiye!”

Meng Fuyao's growl sent the perching birds flying all over the sky, and under everyone's eyes, Zhan Beiye's face turned chestnut green. He attempted to fix the curtains, but Meng Fuyao angrily snatched it over, stepped and trampled on it while tying her pants properly.

Then, her face changed. As if nothing had happened she patted Zhan Beiye on his shoulder, explaining, ”I was just scolding you for fun. Had to distract them so as to secure my pants.”

She clapped her hands and walked off handsomely, leaving Zhan Beiye smiling bitterly in his spot. He wasn't sure if he should be thankful to or hate the eccentric side of Meng Fuyao.

She walked off laughing, not the least bit bothered. Later on, she rummaged through Lord Yuan Bao's snack box until Zhangsun Wuji asked for it back.

That night, Lord Yuan Bao had diarrhea and kept on burping non-stop…

On the same night, the few of them stayed in an inn, even paying for a whole courtyard. Since all of them were hard to please and none was willing to share a space with another, each ended up with a room of their own.

They had dinner in the guesthouse, their dishes kept warm with pots, similar to modern hotpot. They sat, enjoying all the different types of meat and vegetables, while Meng Fuyao arrived a step later after a shower. ”How fragrant,” she commented from afar.

Upon sitting down, two bowls of soup were handed over to her. On her left was Zhangsun Wuji, who smiled and said, ”Rabbit meat. You like it.” On her right was Zhan Beiye, who added, ”Too much meat, too much heat. The mushrooms here are pretty delicious and soft. Try them.”

Meng Fuyao stared at the soup as if staring at two bowls of poison. Ya Lanzhu slapped her chopsticks on the table, pouting. ”I had neither meat nor soup.”

As if she was invisible, the two men appeared indifferent. Zong Yue, on the other hand, unhurriedly put a piece of yam into her bowl. ”Eat this to clear body heat and regain energy.”

Hearing the sarcasm in his voice, Meng Fuyao had to bite her lips to avoid laughing. She retrieved the black pepper that belonged to Zhangsun Wuji from her robe. She had already dried and ground it into powder, so she simply sprinkled a little into both bowls. ”These are best drank spicy. Come try it, you two.” At that, she pushed both bowls back to them.

Zhangsun Wuji smiled before taking a mouthful of soup. Zhan Beiye, on the other hand, lifted the bowl and gobbled everything down. It was very spicy, but he drank it urgently, coughing in the process. Wanting to pat his back to ease his discomfort, Yan Lanzhu reached a hand out, only to receive a death glare from him.

Meng Fuyao pretended not to have seen it. Instead, she buried her face into the bowl and started drinking. 'How am I to survive the next few days…'

Ya Lanzhu ran over suddenly to grab her, saying that she wouldn't be able to sleep alone and needed company, but her intentions were immediately seen through by Meng Fuyao. The former was definitely afraid that Zhan Beiye would crawl on the latter's bed.

'That was just once, and an exception… can't have everyone developing the habit of crawling onto others' beds can we?'

She was secretly happy about Ya Lanzhu's request nevertheless. At the very least she wouldn't need to receive Zhan Beiye, and Zhangsun Wuji's kind acts. They started chatting on their beds when Meng Fuyao asked her about how she had fallen for Zhan Beiye. Ya Lanzhu grabbed onto her pillow with dreamy eyes, and said, ”I don't know either. I only remember following my brother on his visit to Tiansha Nation. I got lost in TIansha palace and found a beautiful hall in the process. There he was, washing the hair of a very beautiful woman. I've never seen anything like that. Father and brother only had women washing their hair, and if the temperature was a tad too hot or cold, they would award the hairdresser with a flying kick. At that time I stood in front of the pace, looking at the crape myrtles and at how he slowly cleaned the woman' hair. As he used the cloth to dry her hair bit by bit, I fell into a sudden daze…”

As did Meng Fuyao in the mid of Ya Lanzhu's story.

Many, many years ago, the long forgotten prince was squatting before the water bucket in a secluded but flower-filled palace and washing the hair of his mad mother. The cluster of black hair in his palm was like the flowing of time. It represented the days where they could only rely on each other. While she was lost in her own world, she always enjoyed his meticulous care and protection. Be it in the winter cold, summer storm or spring rain, he had been determined to preserve her bleak yet blissful life.

Life for him was bitter, though. Someone had to bear the burden, and since it wasn't his mad and blissfully ignorant mother, it was him who had to endure the pain and loneliness. The heavy responsibility, which belonged to both him and his mother, had fallen on his tender shoulders ever since he was a child.

Meng Fuyao finally understood the reason for Zhan Beiye's radiant and heroic character. He couldn't not be radiant. His poor mother needed all the light and warm she could get to suppress the icy grief deep in her heart. If he were to remain gloomy, who could possibly illuminate her dark world? If he were to be gloomy, which of his sly brothers wouldn't take the chance to slap on a ”problematic child” label onto him?