Waiting

“She’s mute. Just stay by her side and watch her work. Do whatever she does,” Steward Li instructed, then turned and walked away.

Yan’er nodded to the woman called Wildflower. The woman seemed not to notice her and continued with her chores, tossing large bundles of fodder into the horse troughs. Yan’er quickly imitated Wildflower’s movements, grabbing armfuls of feed. She saw Wildflower, struggling, lift a heavy bucket of water to fill another horse’s trough, and Yan’er rushed to help her.

“Sister Wildflower, let me help you,” Yan’er said, doing her best to assist.

Wildflower merely glanced at Yan’er, then suddenly reached out to touch Yan’er’s face. Yan’er quickly dodged her hand, laughing sheepishly. Wildflower spat on the ground, looking at her with obvious disdain.

“My face is injured, Sister Wildflower. Your hands will get dirty if you touch it,” Yan’er explained.

This time, Wildflower understood and nodded earnestly.

Yan’er didn’t know if the woman’s real name was Wildflower, or if Steward Li had simply made it up. Steward Li had said Wildflower was mute, but Yan’er soon realized the woman could hear and understand her, so she must not have been born without speech. “Sister Wildflower, where do we sleep at night?”

Wildflower pointed to a small thatched hut behind them. Yan’er followed her gaze. “The winters here are mild, but isn’t that hut a bit too shabby?”

Wildflower shook her head, took Yan’er by the hand, and led her over. It turned out the so-called hut was covered on the outside by a thick layer of straw, insulating it. The true structure was wood-beamed with mudbrick walls, surprisingly warm.

In the blink of an eye, three months passed. Yan’er still wore a silk scarf over her face, hiding her true appearance. Every day at mealtimes, she took her portion back to the hut to eat alone. There were only about twenty slaves at the stables, just as Sulan had said—old, infirm, sick, and crippled. No wonder only one steward was needed; even if the slaves wanted to rebel, they lacked the strength. The only ones in their prime were Wildflower and herself. As for herself… Yan’er touched her stomach. So thin and frail, four and a half months along and she still didn’t show. That was good; she could keep hiding among the wagons a little longer. If it weren’t for the occasional movement of the child inside her, she might have forgotten she was pregnant.

Baili Mubai would often come by the stables, only to be turned away by Yan’er. She didn’t want to draw suspicion, nor did she want anyone to know she was pregnant. Idle gossip alone could ruin her.

Yet the one she dreaded still came: “Yan’er!” Speak of the devil. It was already March, and Baili Mubai wore only a thin robe, looking cool and comfortable.

“Mubai, you’re here again?” Yan’er was a little annoyed, but still pulled out a stool for him.

“It’s getting warmer, so I brought you a couple of lighter changes of clothes. It’s milder here than in the capital, and you’ll overheat if you keep wearing that old cotton coat.” Baili Mubai set down a bundle and glanced at her meal. “I also brought you some pastries from the city. They’re good for you.”

“Mubai…” Yan’er put down her chopsticks, not even glancing at the clothing. She looked at him intently.

“Yan’er, say what’s on your mind,” Baili Mubai said, sensing she had something to tell him.

“Have you been in touch with Sister Xueqing lately?” Yan’er stroked her belly, now over four months pregnant. It was time to start keeping an eye on things back there.

“You’re still thinking about Senior Brother,” Baili Mubai said, glancing at her hands. Once delicate as jade, they were now dark and callused, rough from work, nails packed with dirt. His look of distress did not go unnoticed by Yan’er.

Knowing he still cared for her, Yan’er felt content. She wanted to reach out and touch his face, but her hand stopped midair and she drew it back. “Mubai, do I look like a beggar now?” she said, lowering her head in embarrassment.

“Never. To me, you will always be that lovely, untainted fairy,” Baili Mubai replied without hesitation.

“Thank you, Mubai.” Yan’er took his hand.

“I’ve kept up correspondence with Senior Sister. As for Senior Brother, don’t worry—he knows nothing about the child,” Baili Mubai said with a helpless shake of his head. Yan’er had only revealed her pregnancy after arriving in Saizhou, making him swear not to tell a soul. Baili Mubai knew she didn’t want Senior Brother to worry. Maybe Yan’er truly wanted to leave the past behind and start anew, and maybe… maybe he could have a chance, to begin a new life with her on this soil.

“I was just thinking of the capital today. It’s so far from here, so isolated. I wonder if that villain Guan Canghai still has his eyes on us,” Yan’er said, uneasy at mentioning him.

Baili Mubai smiled. “That’s not our concern, Yan’er. Living well is what matters.”

“That may be, but you’re Xueqing’s junior. You ought to pay attention to court affairs. If there’s war at the front, you could help them,” Yan’er said, anxious for any news about Guan Canghai or Pan Yueyang.

“I will. Senior Sister mentioned in her letter recently that Guan Canghai kidnapped Mu Qianxue,” Baili Mubai said, puzzled by Yan’er’s sudden interest in national affairs.

“Oh?” Yan’er feigned distraction with her food, but absorbed every word. Guan Canghai had taken Mu Qianxue—did he know anything about her?

“I think he’s still looking for you, Yan’er. You must protect yourself and never give him an opening. I can’t shake the feeling he has some other motive regarding you,” Baili Mubai said, pushing the pastries toward her. “Eat.”

Yan’er said nothing, picking up a pastry and putting it in her mouth. Her heart pounded with excitement—perhaps her ordeal was nearly over. Guan Canghai, don’t let me down. You will come for me. You must.

Baili Mubai felt a knot in his chest. There was something he simply couldn’t bring himself to tell her: Ouluolan was also a month pregnant. If he told Yan’er, would she be able to bear it? He decided it was best not to mention Ouluolan’s pregnancy at all.

Yan’er waited day after day. Since Mubai’s last visit, bringing news from the capital, he hadn’t returned, and two more months had gone by. Now six and a half months along, her summer clothes could no longer conceal her belly. Anxiously, she paced her room. Every morning she rose early to feed the horses, then hid inside before anyone else awoke. She was terrified of being seen, even by the mute. No matter how thin she was, her pregnancy could no longer be hidden. Mubai was nowhere to be found. Though May was not yet hot in the capital, Saizhou was already blazing. Yan’er imagined a thousand reasons why Mubai hadn’t come—maybe Xueqing needed him back in the capital? But whatever the case, she could not give birth here.

At the height of noon, while the other slaves sought shelter from the sun, Yan’er took the opportunity to bathe the horses—there were fewer people around at this hour. Over time, the sun had tanned her skin dark. Yan’er struggled to lift the water buckets, scrubbing the horses’ backs. Another bucket poured, and the horse shook out its mane. Yan’er patted its back. When she’d first arrived, she’d been afraid to touch the great beasts. Now, she was used to them, even fond of them.

Guan Canghai sat at the edge of a cliff, sunlight blurring his view of the woman busy brushing horses below. He tossed aside a sprig of fresh grass. “Doesn’t even know to avoid the sun,” he muttered, clearly irritated.

Yan’er finished with the last horse, wiped sweat from her brow, and, seeing the sun had lost some of its heat, began packing up to rest. Then she saw Wildflower heading her way. Yan’er quickly crouched down, pretending to tidy up—she didn’t want anyone seeing her belly, not even the mute.

Wildflower came over, babbling, and grabbed Yan’er’s hand to make her look up. “Ah ah, yi ah,” Wildflower gestured, miming eating.

“I know, Wildflower. I’ll be right in. Is there something good to eat today? You look so happy,” Yan’er said. In all the time they’d known each other, Wildflower had rarely spoken, but whenever the kitchen prepared something special, she always came to tell Yan’er to eat early.

Wildflower nodded, patted Yan’er’s hand, and turned to go—then gave a startled cry.

Yan’er stood up and saw, with the sun behind him, a man in purple standing before Wildflower, who froze in shock. Yan’er nearly burst into tears. Guan Canghai! It was really him.

She looked at Wildflower’s back, then at Guan Canghai’s face silhouetted by the sun. She waved her hand. Guan Canghai gave Wildflower a devilish smile, and the next moment, Wildflower collapsed to the ground.

“She’ll be all right, won’t she?” Yan’er asked, worried.

“She’s been pretending to be mute for so long, sooner or later she’ll speak,” Guan Canghai replied, not directly addressing her concern.

“Pretending?” Yan’er looked at Wildflower’s body in shock. In some things, she absolutely trusted Guan Canghai. Now she was grateful she hadn’t gotten too close to Wildflower—this woman was even more cunning than herself.

Guan Canghai said nothing, only stared intently at the changes in Yan’er’s body, his gaze suddenly growing deep.

“Let’s talk inside,” Yan’er said, lowering her head, leading him toward the hut. She ran her fingers through her hair, then gave a self-deprecating laugh and stopped. She was already so disheveled that no amount of tidying could restore her former appearance.

Guan Canghai pulled down her veil. “I knew you wouldn’t be so easily disfigured.”