Recklessly Breaking a Delicate Branch - Chapter 31

“I am the Ajia of Zhuo Jing Cha’er. Please announce me; I wish to enter.” The girl’s voice rang out crisp and clear, leaving the men guarding the tent with no room for doubt.

One of them muttered something in a prairie tongue that Jiang Wanshu could not understand, then turned and pulled back the tent flap to head inside.

Because everything handled by Zhou Yan was a matter of life and death, the air inside the interrogation tent was thick. As soon as the flap was lifted, a heavy scent of blood wafted out.

Jiang Wanshu’s heart tightened at the smell. As a princess of the Central Plains, she could never allow her subjects to be humiliated or tortured before her very eyes.

She took a deep breath, waiting for Zhou Yan’s consent.

As expected, Zhou Yan remained utterly indulgent toward her. A moment later, the man who had entered returned.

Using the broken Central Plains dialect Zhou Yan had taught him, he stammered, “Our… leader… invites you in.”

Jiang Wanshu didn’t dwell on how this man knew her language; she rushed straight inside.

Upon entering, she saw a chaotic array of torture instruments she had never seen before scattered across the floor. The tent was heavily layered; even though it was daytime, the interior remained dim.

The atmosphere felt like a dense, swirling fog pressing against her nose, making it hard to breathe.

Unable to bear the stench of blood, Jiang Wanshu covered her nose with her hand.

Suddenly, a hand clapped onto her shoulder. Startled, she let out a sharp cry. “Ah!”

She quickly covered her mouth to stifle further noise and turned to glare at the source of the fright. In the gloom, illuminated only by the flickering torches in the braziers, she saw the man’s breathtakingly handsome face.

His nose was high and straight, his thin lips curved slightly. “Wanwan, how can your courage be so small?”

Zhou Yan was delighted by the fact that she had claimed to be his Ajia in front of his men. He grinned broadly.

Jiang Wanshu’s round eyes widened. Realizing it was him, her expression cooled, and she lowered her hand, calming her agitation.

“So it’s you,” she said, reaching out to swat his hand off her shoulder.

Zhou Yan knew she never came to see him without a reason. Since she had sought him out here, she definitely wanted something.

He turned serious, his gaze becoming upright. “Wanwan, why have you come looking for me?”

Hearing this, Jiang Wanshu looked down, feeling a flicker of guilt.

Her right leg tapped restlessly against the ground, her face etched with hesitation.

How should she bring it up?

What if the woman really was, as Maigula-ji said, someone he had taken into his “back courtyard” for pleasure? Wouldn’t her attempt at rescue become a laughingstock?

But if she truly was being tortured by Zhou Yan and she did nothing, she would live with the guilt for the rest of her life.

A princess is sustained by her people; she could not stand by and watch her “parents of food and clothing” die without lifting a hand.

Finally, she cast aside all thoughts of consequences. Regardless of the outcome, if that Central Plains woman was being tortured, she would save her from this fire and water—even if, by the laws of the prairie, the woman deserved to die.

In her heart, the border between the prairie and the Central Plains would always exist. Central Plains people were simply more precious to her, provided they hadn’t committed heinous crimes or treason.

She took a deep breath and looked up. “Zhou Yan, I heard you’ve detained a Central Plains person here?”

She looked as though she were a fragile thing, easily manipulated.

Zhou Yan knew exactly what she was talking about. The Central Plains woman.

A smirk played on his lips. He hadn’t expected her to find out about this.

In truth, he hadn’t committed any great wrong. When it came to the woman, his interrogation methods involved providing good food and drink—though he cared little for her living conditions.

He gave the female prisoner the best meals while providing the worst environment. Cockroaches, ants, and even rats were common in that cell.

When dealing with female prisoners, he disdained the methods suggested by his men—scarring the skin or violating the body. Instead, he believed in breaking the spirit. Once a person’s inner conviction collapses, nothing else matters.

“Indeed,” Zhou Yan said shamelessly, his face a mask of composure.

He waited quietly for her to beg him.

He knew her pride would never allow her to let her people suffer under her nose.

Watching her closely, he saw the spark of calculation in her round eyes. She steeled herself, forcing out honeyed words. “Zhou Yan, I have been on the prairie for a long time now. I have no one to serve me and find it quite inconvenient. I’ve come to ask you for someone.”

Zhou Yan raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Oh? And what does Wanwan mean by that?”

“I mean… I want that Central Plains woman. She understands my language and would be more to my liking.” Jiang Wanshu’s eyes were filled with worry, fearing the woman was already too badly injured.

Zhou Yan loved seeing her in this awkward state. He asked, feigning ignorance, “But that woman was captured at the tribal border. If I simply give her to you as a slave, wouldn’t that be a disservice to the vast prairie?”

In truth, though he was born of the prairie, he had spent too much time in a wolf’s den. When he first entered the Mar camp, everyone wanted to kill him.

The respect they showed him now was only because, under Mar’s recommendation, he had accomplished several world-shaking deeds for the prairie.

People of the world gather for profit and scatter for the same.

He understood this deeply. Aside from the loyalty to a lifelong mate he had learned from the wolves, he held no true allegiance to anything else.

To make Jiang Wanshu happy, he was perfectly willing to let the woman go.

But the girl before him was so amusing; he wanted to linger with her, to hear her speak a few more words.

Jiang Wanshu nervously fidgeted with her fingers. “I am your Ajia, and we have bowed before the high hall. Husband and wife should be of the same mind and branch. I am from the Central Plains, which makes you a son-in-law of the Central Plains. A mere woman is nothing to someone like you, Zhou Yan. Can’t you just give her to me?”

She tried to use a convoluted logic to blur his perception. A “son-in-law of the Central Plains” was practically one of them; wasn’t it normal to release one’s own people on one’s own land?

But she didn’t realize that Zhou Yan had no sense of regional loyalty. Instead, he used her words to tease her.

A bright smile flashed in his eyes.

“I… I…” Jiang Wanshu stammered, losing the courage to continue.

Zhou Yan, however, was direct. He reached out and pulled her into his side again.

Guiding her, he led her past a curtain in a corner of the tent to a prison area enclosed by iron bars. As they moved deeper, the smell of blood grew heavier.

Having spent so much time in such environments, Zhou Yan was desensitized, but Jiang Wanshu reflexively covered her nose again.

Zhou Yan stood before her and pulled back the white cloth curtains. In an instant, the stench intensified, causing Jiang Wanshu to cough several times.

A sliver of light pierced the dark cell. In the gloom, Jiang Wanshu saw a set of exquisite dishes placed upon a chipped, low table.

As the curtain was pulled, cockroaches and rats scurried out, causing Jiang Wanshu to huddle closer to the man.

Zhou Yan was pleased by this, his long arm acting like a wall as he wrapped it around her waist.

At the contact, memories of the previous night’s intimacy flooded back, and his body tensed, his heart beginning to thud.

He looked down at her pretty face, which was pale with fright, and brushed away a stray lock of hair from her forehead. “Do you see where she is?”

His eyes sparkled, thoroughly enjoying the moment.

Jiang Wanshu ignored his touch, her eyes searching the shadows. “Where is she?”

Zhou Yan gestured toward the darkest corner of the cell, a place like a black abyss where nothing could be seen clearly.

Jiang Wanshu squinted for a long time before she realized someone was sitting on a wooden cot back there.

Eager to rescue her, she moved to step inside, but Zhou Yan immediately pulled her back.

She looked up, her eyes full of confusion.

He wouldn’t let her in, yet he brought her here?

Zhou Yan’s grip on her hand tightened. “A person kept in such extreme conditions becomes highly aggressive.” Even a woman who had been weakened by exhaustion.

Just then, it was time for a man to deliver a meal. Prairie rules were lax; there was no protocol for bowing to superiors. A man carrying a tray glanced at Zhou Yan, who nodded, and then entered.

The morning meal sat untouched on the table. The man seemed unsurprised, simply clearing away the old plates and replacing them with fresh ones.

Jiang Wanshu’s brow furrowed deeper as she watched. Zhou Yan remarked coolly, “You want a slave with a temperament like that?”

On the prairie, hierarchy was everything.

He thought she would retreat, but to his surprise, she pulled away from his grasp. “I want to try.”

Her eyes were filled with pity.

As a princess of the Central Plains, how could she give up on her own people over something so small?

If she did, she would be unworthy of her title.

Her words sparked a flash of anger in Zhou Yan. His tone turned stern. “No. It is not safe in there!”

“Zhou Yan, just let me try.” Knowing his temperament—how he responded better to softness than force—she swayed his hand as if wheedling.

His dark, cold eyes stared intently into the determination in hers.

Her slender, white fingers brushed gently over his large palm. Zhou Yan closed his eyes, unable to resist. “I have one condition.”

Regardless, as long as he was by her side to protect her, he wasn’t afraid of what the woman inside might do.

Knowing this was his way of agreeing, a smile broke across Jiang Wanshu’s face. Under his watchful eye, she entered the cell.

Her heart raced as she approached the woman on the cot. She walked to the table and picked up a bowl and chopsticks, selecting some vegetables and fish.

The smell of rot in here was truly foul; it was no wonder the woman couldn’t eat.

Zhou Yan said nothing, his eyes sharp with vigilance as he followed her closely.

Knowing she had his protection, Jiang Wanshu grew bolder.

She approached the bedraggled woman. “You must be hungry, miss. Why don’t you have a bite to eat?”

In an instant, the woman sitting with her back turned began to tremble.

It was the first time she had heard her native tongue since being captured.

The people here avoided her, all because of the leader’s orders. In reality, she had come here for the sake of the princess who had once saved her life.

Suddenly, a thought struck her. Could it be? Could the person behind her be the princess?

That feeling of familiarity made her turn around. As she looked, her eyes filled with shock and awe.

It was the Princess! It really was!

Overwhelmed with emotion, the woman burst into tears. Before noticing the food in the princess’s hands, she lunged forward and embraced her.

“Princess! It is truly you! Your servant has finally found you!”

Startled by the sudden movement, Jiang Wanshu reflexively held the bowl of food high to her side to keep it from spilling.

Shocked that the woman knew her identity, she lowered her head. Zhou Yan moved to pull the woman away, but Jiang Wanshu stopped him. “She won’t hurt me. Don’t worry.”

Reluctantly, Zhou Yan lowered his hand and stepped back.

Jiang Wanshu turned her attention back to the woman, letting her hold her until the woman realized what she was doing and let go. Wanshu then pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve.

She offered it to the woman, who took it and wiped her tears, her voice trembling. “I… I am unworthy. The Princess is so noble; your servant has soiled your handkerchief.”

Seeing someone from her homeland after so long, a thousand thoughts swirled in Jiang Wanshu’s mind.

She was relieved that the woman wasn’t as difficult as she had feared and could likely be convinced to stay by her side.

But she was pained that the woman knew who she was—the Central Plains princess who was supposed to have died during the wedding journey, now living beside the prairie leader who was interrogating her.

Her pride stung in that moment.

Taking a deep breath, she comforted herself. No matter; the most important thing was to get the woman out.

She had never seen this woman before. Why did she seem so devoted?

Sensing she was safe, she asked the question burning in her mind. “How do you know who I am?”

The woman, Yulu, knelt on the bed and looked up at her with reverence. “I am Yulu. Princess, have you forgotten me?”

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