318

Chapter 318: Untitled

Translator: Atlas Studios  Editor: Atlas Studios

It was all just a possibility, and she would never be able to prove it with her life. Just like the past in that blood-colored palace, it had already rotted away into dust, never to be picked up again by anyone.

Ten months later, Nameless Feng was born into the world.

She would never forget the first glance she had of this world.

She saw a room with no light, saw the pale-faced woman gritting her teeth as she cut the umbilical cord in the bloody water, saw a tiny, jade lotus floating above the bloody water, heard the woman’s cries muffled by the sheets, smelled the metallic stench of blood in the air, felt the tears from the woman’s eyes falling ceaselessly upon her face as she begged, “Child, don’t cry… You cannot cry… Once you cry we’ll both be dead… I’m begging you, don’t cry…”

Henceforth, she had become the first infant never to cry, in order to save the lives of that woman and herself.

After that, there had been many occasions during that hellish five years, when she had really felt like crying. ‘I should just cry. Honestly, crying is better, dying is probably more comfortable than living,’ she had thought.

Back then, why hadn’t she cried?

After that, she hadn’t even known how to cry anymore.

Her mother of this world had brought her up inside a cupboard.

For five years.

From the moment she had been born until she had been five.

When she had been five, she had still been as small as a three-year-old child. Because of prolonged crouching, her back was bent, and her legs were shrunken, all the bones in her body had been deformed. Until after she was five when her Master had been training her ceaselessly, using powerful techniques to reform her bones. She had trained extremely hard, even harder than anyone, but that was simply because she had never stood at the same starting line as the others.

… The wind flew from a different world, carrying with it the smell of smoke and grass. That was the smell after the courtyard caught fire. The grass was the spring grass growing beneath the house, long and green with beads of dew clinging to it—She had never seen it before, her mother would squat by the cupboard and whisper to her as she tried to recall images from her previous life. In the five years of darkness, all she could see had been the faint glow of the purple palace lanterns, faint silhouettes. Although the memories of her previous life had still been extremely clear, many details had become a blur, and she had to think for a long time before finally recalling what grass had been.

Every night, her mother would sit by the cupboard and murmur things to her, such as the story of the Five Regions and the seven nations, the current situation, talking about whatever she thought about. She had seemed to be afraid that her daughter would go mad from constantly being locked up, and tried to find time to communicate with her. She had only wanted to share with her daughter a little bit about the outside world, but what she hadn’t known was that every line she had spoken, her daughter would respond, except, there had been no sound.

She couldn’t speak, she could only have a silent exchange with her mother with words that only she would know.

Sometimes, she would feel as if she had to say something, but every time she would let out a monosyllabic word, her mother would immediately move away, leaving her open-mouthed, her face filled with sadness and despair.

Once, her mother had suddenly sighed while speaking and murmured, “My child… You are the princess born with a lotus… You should have been the most treasured princess in Xuanji… Sometimes I don’t understand the will of Heaven… Why… Why…” She would then stand up and search under the bed for something, then retrieve it and hand it to her through the crack beneath the drawer.

She had grasped it in her hand, the tiny little lotus, pale jade in color, looking just like a real lotus, yet she immediately laughed silently—it had probably turned to stone already, right?

Who had ever seen the most treasured princess in the Five Regions Continent that had been born with a lotus, brought up in a cupboard never to see anyone, fed with only two cold buns a day?

This damned lotus was but a cold annoyance.

She had thrown the lotus out as her mother hurriedly caught it, blaming her lack of understanding before carefully hiding it again and leaning against the drawer as she whispered, “… Perhaps, one day, this will prove your true status…”

Status? Status was the most boring thing in the world. She didn’t need to be a princess, if that lotus could give her back her freedom, she would immediately kneel before the lotus!

What was freedom? What was darkness? What was hunger? What was the neverending torment of never seeing sunlight? And the most painful thing of all was that she couldn’t even talk back or resist against this daily humiliation and torture!

Pure lotus! Dirty hands!

Her heart had sunk to the point of despair, and from then on, she no longer cared about cleanliness.

… She crouched in the direction of the smell, playing with the wood shavings in her fingers. She had always been careful when picking wood shavings; once, she had been too loud, and coincidentally, there was a guest in the room. The woman had looked over suspiciously, but her mother insisted that it was a rat. Through the cracks, she could see the ground turn wet. That position was precisely underneath her mother’s skirt.

From then on, she became extremely artistic in playing with her wood shavings, using her saliva to wet it and pick at the wood, kneading it, imagining it to be a chicken drumstick, oh, a chicken drumstick… She had not tasted one in so many years. The concubines had always been extremely temperamental with the palace maids, their food depended on their moods. A single mistake could cost one their meal, hence, after a while, she began to be able to tell the moods of the concubines. Two buns: normal, one bun: Upset, No bun: angry, the palace maids were getting punished. When there was no bun to eat, her mother would lean against the drawer, their stomachs rumbling together. Her mother would sometimes reach in to comfort her, yet she would immediately push her hand away. Thinking that she was angry, her mother would sit by the cupboard until nightfall, then creep to the kitchen to steal scraps of leftover food. One big portion for her, one small portion for Mother.

Actually, leftover vegetables weren’t so bad; apart from the rotting smell, at least they had oil.

… Crouching in the direction of the smell, sniffing her fingernails filled with wood shavings, she dreamed about the half-piece of turkey skin that she had stolen previously.

Suddenly, the smell of the wind changed.

Fragrance.

A strange, expensive fragrance, like the purest lotus growing in the snow atop the highest mountains, cold and alluring, drifted gently through the air. In an instant, all of the strange smells in the world disappeared, leaving only that intoxicating fragrance.

She raised her head, sniffing profusely, her mouth moving in the shape of words, yet no sound came out, “The Royal Fragrance”.

All these years, in order not to let herself completely lose the ability to speak, she had never stopped talking, using her lips to mouth the words.

The fragrance suddenly intensified; it had already drifted far away, yet it came back.

She tensed up, shrinking into the back of the cupboard.

Her action seemed to have made the fragrance determine the location, and it instantly moved towards the drawer.

She tensed up even more—she was five years old, and due to constantly being locked up in the darkness and malnourishment, nobody could tell whether she was three or five. Both her legs were bound by fabric, and if anyone were to pull a prank on her, she could only tolerate it, unable to retaliate.

The fragrance stopped in front of the cupboard, and between the cracks underneath she could faintly make out a pair of boots, lilac with silver trimming, intricately made. Yet, it was not large; it seemed to be a child.

The boots looked extremely expensive, perhaps it belonged to a prince from the palace?

She shrank back even more—a child in dire straights discovered and rescued by a kind prince, that kind of story only happened in fairy tales, it was the stuff created by people who had never seen the darkness of life. An even larger probability was that if she was discovered, only death would be waiting for her.

The cupboard suddenly opened.

It opened noiselessly, and she remembered clearly that there was a huge lock in front of the cupboard, yet she hadn’t even heard the sound of the chains.

The cupboard opened, and the thin sliver of sunlight widened.

First, she saw an elaborate collar, and following the collar was a youth even more beautiful and gentle than the finest silk. His robes were a multi-colored satin, moving elegantly in the wind.

His gaze was that of silk, gently grazing her, instantly washing over her entire body—A tiny frame, a shrunken face, messy hair, and frightened eyes.

Her eyes, accustomed to the darkness, squinted in the sun, large amounts of tears welling up as she stared at him blurrily, looking at the ocean-deep eyes shining underneath the rays of the sun.

He seemed to sense that she couldn’t suddenly receive so much sunlight; hence, he stepped forward and blocked the sunlight.

Thereafter, he squatted down and asked, “Who are you? Why are you sleeping in the cupboard?”

She looked at him unwillingly, knowing that she definitely did not smell good, and compared to this fragrant youth, she felt even more awkward. Nonetheless, he acted as if he did not smell anything, only fixedly looking at her.

At that moment, a thought suddenly flashed through her mind—Lie, lie, she couldn’t tell the truth, since this person didn’t know who she was, he wouldn’t be able to tell if she lied.

“I can’t stand the wind,” she suddenly opened her mouth and answered as clearly as she could.

“Do you have an illness?” He looked as if he suddenly understood something, once again eyeing her up and down. His eyes landed on her stick-like arms and legs; she indeed looked like an illness-stricken child.

“If there’s an illness, why aren’t you treating it?”

“I’m treating it.” She had been a vice-lecturer in her previous life, after all, so she lied and said, “The doctor said, I must stay in the cupboard for a month, I can’t feel even the slightest bit of wind.”

The youth chuckled, but a hint of darkness crossed his eyes when he suddenly murmured, “Even you have to be locked up, huh…”

She looked at him, alarmed, as he suddenly changed the subject asked, “What’s your status? Are you a palace maid?”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she immediately shook her head. “No,” she denied.

He looked at her suspiciously, and her heartbeat quickened, not yet coming up with how she was going to lie about her status when her eyes fell upon the jade tassel hanging from his waist. The words “The Heavens bless Wuji with longevity and prosperity” were engraved upon the jade tassel. Instantly, she understood that this youth was not from Xuanji and was probably a prince from Wuji.

She knew that Wuji was a neighboring country to Xuanji. Since he was a prince from another nation, then he wouldn’t be so familiar with Xuanji Palace, so she relaxed her breath and muttered, “I am His Majesty’s youngest daughter.”