TRT – Chapter 16 The Ancestral Temple (Part 1)

…He loosened his embrace but still held onto my wrist, the base of his thumb pressing against my artery.

“But if next time I hear you saying things to Xiao Shou about helping one side and not the other, then I won’t be able to keep that precious little tongue of yours.”

His fingers brushed lightly across my lips.

Cold as ice!

The carriage continued on smoothly, but I could no longer regain any sense of calm.

The deadliest thing for a person is being unable to recognize their own situation.

Right now, I was not some time-travel heroine in a game, living carefree, laughing and joking through life, and then eloping without a care in the world with some handsome man—what’s more, even in those transmigration games, every heroine has to go through trials, and how harsh those are all depends on the author’s mood.

I started praying that I hadn’t been unlucky enough to land myself a stepmother figure.

As it stood, I was nothing more than a chess piece in someone else’s hand. To live or die wasn’t up to me—and that was a terrible feeling. Being able to travel around with some political bigshot might sound like a point of pride, but only if you didn’t have to constantly worry about them snapping off one of your body parts at any moment… I just wanted this state to end soon, to find a way to undo this transmigration, and go back.

“Hey, what exactly do you want me to do?” I shook off his hand, retreating back into the corner again, making sure to keep as much distance from him as possible before asking gloomily.

“I already told you.” He picked up a book again and began flipping through it absentmindedly.

“Hmph.” I raised an eyebrow. “I can’t even deal with you, and you think I can coax Prince Luo into being happy?”

Without even lifting his head, he chuckled softly: “In that regard… I have confidence in you.”

For some reason, I felt a surge of anger at being mocked. “Even if I could coax him into being happy, do you think a man like Prince Luo would really do things for you just because some Minmin can amuse him? You’re giving me way too much credit! Besides, even if he really were swayed by women and pleasure, anyone like that couldn’t be relied on for real use.”

“That’s not something you need to worry about.” He paused, then suddenly looked up at me. “But if you see yourself as nothing more than a tool for pleasure and entertainment… don’t you think you’re looking down on yourself a little too much?”

I must have been glaring daggers at him right then.

“You don’t need to rack your brains trying to persuade me to give up on this method.” He returned his gaze to the book, concluding, “Whether or not you’re useful is for me to decide, not you.”

Roundabout tactics—failed!

This bastard was far too sharp. Anyone he wanted to win over was bound to be no easy target. I wasn’t stupid enough to believe that simply singing, dancing, and smiling at Prince Luo would be enough to reel him in. Besides, Big Fox would never rely on such an inefficient method. Suddenly, a bad premonition crossed my mind. Wait—this was all Big Fox’s one-sided story. Was Prince Luo really someone he wanted to win over? What if the two of them were mortal enemies? Then I’d be forced into some ancient spy-versus-spy undercover act right in Prince Luo’s territory!

That kind of thing—called xìzuò in ancient times, “spy” in modern terms, “agent” abroad, “collaborator” to the Japanese, “special operative” to the Nationalists, and “underground worker” in China! Since forever, people in this profession have ended up hated by both sides—those who failed died miserably, and those who succeeded rarely met good ends either. I mean, have you ever seen a spy honored with a Monument to the People’s Heroes?

“I… can I maybe just say I don’t want to do this?”

“Um, hey, can I at least ask one question? What’s your relationship with Prince Luo? He’s not… that Sixth Prince who rebelled, right?”

“No.”

“Then… what does Prince Luo do? What kind of person is he? If you don’t tell me anything, how am I supposed to start this job?”

“He’s the head of the Weiyang Sect. He used to be a man of the martial world. The court, wanting to win him over, gave him the idle title of Prince.”

“Weiyang Sect?!”

I’d already heard of them back in Cangchun Pavilion. They were basically like an ancient intelligence organization—the equivalent of an encrypted version of the Internet~ An awesome line of work like that would thrive whether in ancient or modern times. Damn it! I suddenly felt an odd kind of kinship—if I’d graduated college in my original world and passed the civil service exam, I would have been placed in an intelligence agency too. I never expected this Prince Luo to turn out to be in the same trade as me!

Maybe it was my tearful, about-to-cry expression that caught Big Fox’s attention, because he asked, feigning casualness, “What? Do you two know each other?” There was already a trace of wariness in his tone.

“No.” And it was true I really didn’t know him. But judging from how he was already on high alert, even if I did know him, the correct answer was still: no.

Big Fox made no comment, just kept reading, ignoring me.

Actually, it wasn’t entirely true that I didn’t know Prince Luo. I remembered he’d shown up at my last performance, seated in the VIP section at Cangchun Pavilion. That was also the only place from the stage where I could clearly see. But at that time, there’d also been the Third Prince at the table—I had no idea which one was Prince Luo. I tried to recall the two faces: one in yellow robes, gaunt and sickly, drooping at the eyes and mouth—an obvious case of excessive debauchery. The other in white robes, square-faced, features plain and unremarkable, though his aura carried a certain ease and grandeur. Thinking back on them both, I suddenly found myself really hoping Prince Luo wasn’t the guy in yellow…

The rest of the journey passed in silence.

The closer we got to the Ancestral Temple, the more crowded the road became. The carriage slowed gradually, until finally, with the thronging masses outside, it could only creep forward. The scene reminded me of Beijing traffic jams, oddly lifting my mood~

“Master, it’s nearly the hour of chén. At this rate we’ll miss the ceremony. Should we switch to the official road?” the driver stuck his head in to ask.

“Yes.”

With just that one simple order from Big Fox, everyone except me immediately went into swift action. The moment we turned onto the official road, the guards’ entire demeanor changed, their auras tightening into full alert. Of course—taking the official road was the same as announcing to the world that there was a high-ranking noble or royal in the carriage. It was like hanging a sign that said: Come rob me! Come rob me! Lalala!—the danger level instantly skyrocketed.

I lifted the curtain slightly. The carriage was moving along a broad, straight avenue. Commoners weren’t allowed on this road. Looking off at the distant, crowded throngs of people—the joyful people—this carriage felt as if it existed in an entirely different time and space from them…

Outside, Guard Yang shot me a warning look before firmly dropping the curtain back down, leaving no room for refusal.

Inside, it instantly became dim and unreal.

“What were you looking at?” Big Fox’s voice came from behind me.

“The road.” I leaned against the now-covered window frame with my back to him, suddenly struck by how pitiful he seemed.

“Oh? And what do you think of it?”

I turned around and looked into his eyes seriously. My feelings were complicated. This man… he must have lived like this ever since he was a child, right? Then why does he still let himself sink deeper and deeper into it? Is it that he doesn’t want to leave, or that he can’t?

I think… there’s only one word that fits.

“What word?”

“…Empty.”

His breathing suddenly faltered. The sunlight outside flickered through the half-transparent curtains, casting shifting shadows across his face. In that interplay of light and shade, I couldn’t make out his expression. My gaze unconsciously dropped to his hand at his side—his fingertips were trembling slightly… Suddenly, I really wanted to see what expression he was wearing. I tilted my head up, staring at his face, and leaned in closer. But he shoved me away.

Turning his back to me, he said, “Minmin, a woman must not raise her head in front of a man. You’ve been in the pleasure quarters too long, so it’s inevitable you lack manners. When we arrive at the Heavenly Ancestor Temple, I’ll have someone teach you properly what etiquette a woman should observe.”

After a pause, he added, “Prince Luo is a man of great cultivation. Don’t disgrace me in front of him.”

By the time we reached the Heavenly Ancestor Temple, the person Big Fox had summoned to teach me etiquette was already waiting in the courtyard.

A dozen maids in pale pink gauze skirts surrounded her like stars encircling the moon. In that sea of color, her plain white robes stood out, ethereal and refined. She was truly beautiful—her brows like distant mountains, her eyes like flowing water.

The moment she saw Big Fox step out of the carriage, she walked over with small, graceful steps, her head slightly bowed, her snow-white neck forming a delicate curve. In that instant, she reminded me of Xu Zhimo’s poem: The gentlest thing is the lowering of her head, like a water lily too shy to bear the weight of its own beauty…

With a charming grace, she bowed and her cherry lips parted:

“Your concubine Jiwen greets Your Highness.”

She—she’s Big Fox’s wife?! Or… concubine?!!

When Big Fox merely nodded with a cold “Rise,” I glared at him with all my might, delivering two messages with my poisonous stare:

First, Lucky bastard, you’re really enjoying yourself!

Second, Heaven must be blind!

Jiwen stood meekly behind him, her head still bowed, but I caught her sneaking a glance at me from the corner of her eye. And me—well, I’ve always had a soft spot for beauties. So I flashed her a sweet smile. Unexpectedly, both she and Big Fox froze for a second. What? Did I smile too brightly?

“Come down,” Big Fox said, extending his hand to me. I had to admit, it looked very gentlemanly and elegant. But—no thanks.

“No need, I can get down myself.”

The words had barely left my lips when the entire courtyard turned their shocked eyes on me! Big Fox’s hand remained suspended in the air, yet he made no move to withdraw it.

“I said, come down.”

“I said, I can manage on my own. I don’t need your help.”

“I’m not helping you. Women must descend properly. Now come down.”

Who the hell does he think he is, ordering me around?! I ignored his hand, and in defiance, jumped down with a thud. But in the next moment, I was dizzy—and suddenly hurled back into the carriage like a sack of grain!

He—he really tossed me back in?!!

“If you can’t learn how to descend properly today, then you’re not coming down at all.” Big Fox extended his hand again.

“You…”

I glared at him, then with a huff, pulled over the quilt he’d used to roll me in earlier, wrapped myself up tightly with only my little face showing, and declared, “Fine! Then I won’t get down! There’s food, drink, and books in here—better than being a god outside.” I even stuck out a ghost face at him for good measure.

Big Fox clearly hadn’t expected that. A strange expression appeared on his face—something that could almost be called a smile. “Very well. Minmin doesn’t seem to know how women should alight. Jiwen!”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

He stepped back and gestured for her to demonstrate.

If I wasn’t mistaken, a flicker of hurt crossed Jiwen’s beautiful face.

A guard stepped forward, and Jiwen, expressionless, supported herself on his arm, descending with delicate, graceful steps. She nodded politely at me—still wrapped in the quilt—and demonstrated the act of disembarking with elegance. Afterward, she bowed shallowly to the guard.

“Miss Minmin, women must pay respects to men. If the man’s status is lower, you give a shallow bow; if higher, a deep bow; if equal, a full salute. With Miss Minmin’s identity, you must give guards a deep bow, and to His Highness… you must kneel.”

What?!!

So not only do I have to hold Big Fox’s hand to get off, I also have to kneel to him?! Is there no justice in this world?!

No way! Absolutely not! My knees are worth gold—how could I kneel so easily?!

Big Fox looked at me.

I didn’t move.

He told Jiwen, “Looks like Minmin hasn’t learned yet. Show her again.”

Jiwen demonstrated again.

I didn’t move.

“Again.”

I didn’t move.

Then Big Fox smiled. Turning to Jiwen, he asked slowly, “If a woman fails to learn etiquette after three attempts, what is to be done?”

Her beautiful face remained expressionless. “A slap to the mouth.”

Was it my imagination, or did I see a trace of schadenfreude in her eyes?

Big Fox narrowed his eyes. From experience, I knew nothing good came from that look. Instinctively, I shrank back into my quilt.

“Minmin… cannot be struck.”

What—he actually cares about me? Before I could even decide if I should be happy, he continued coldly: “She mustn’t be injured in the face. Otherwise, I won’t be able to present her.”

I take it back. I was stupid to think he cared.

“Jiwen, sorry to trouble you, teach her a few more times.”

Jiwen gave me a complicated look, then helplessly repeated the demonstration.

Sigh~ Jiwen, you don’t need to look at me like that. Your husband isn’t cheating on you. He’s just treating me like valuable merchandise—gotta keep it intact so he can sell it later. He’s probably scheming up something even dirtier than a slap to the face to make me give in.

And sure enough, I soon realized—Big Fox’s “dirtier scheme” was already in play.

I stayed put. He stayed put. The only one moving—was Jiwen.

Getting on and off the carriage isn’t heavy labor, but Jiwen was clearly a delicate woman, raised with care. How could she endure being made to climb up and down dozens of times in elegant form? Sweat beaded her forehead and nose, her breathing grew labored, her movements slowed, and her eyes toward me filled with venomous resentment…

Crap. My resolve wavered. I can’t stand to watch a beauty suffer, especially when she’s innocent. But could I really kneel to some random ancient man? My pride refused! What should I do?!

While I was locked in this mental war, Jiwen stumbled on one of her countless repetitions. She tripped on the carriage step and pitched forward! I couldn’t sit still—I lunged forward and caught her. Glancing at Big Fox, who hadn’t moved an inch, my chest burned with fury.

You’re ruthless!

Indeed, he was sharp. He knew punishment wouldn’t work on me. He’d already figured out I softened when others suffered, and so he targeted that weakness with full force. In such a short time, he’d read me this well… Big Fox, you are something.

“Fine. I’ll do it. But—I don’t want you to help me.” I pointed to Yang the guard, still wearing his cool expression. “I want him.” Then, ignoring Big Fox’s reaction, I turned to Jiwen. “What’s the proper salute for a guard?”

It’s just getting off a carriage! Whoever’s hand I take is the same! And if I’ve got to kneel, I’d rather kneel to a handsome guy than that damned fox!

Big Fox’s face darkened. “No.”

“No? Why not? Why must you be the one to help me down? Do you have some kind of… hand-holding fetish?”

“Minmin is my honored guest. Other than me, you needn’t bow to anyone.” He then turned to the whole courtyard: “Remember this.”

Then he stepped up to the carriage, extended his hand again, and this time—smiled at me. “You don’t need to kneel. A deep bow is enough. Come down, Minmin.”

Wait—am I blinded by the sun, or does his smile look… warm? It was so natural, as if it rose from his very soul—stripped of pretense, stripped of calculation. No defenses.

Without realizing it, I placed my hand on his arm. I stepped lightly down from the carriage and, just as I’d seen countless times, gracefully bowed. My mind was a complete mess.

Cool hands gently helped me up. Big Fox’s face was still wearing that startlingly warm smile.

“Very good,” he said. “Minmin, you’ve learned well.”

That morning sunlight, the cicadas singing in the temple trees, the cool touch of his hand on my arm, and that rare, warm smile—all of it was sealed in my memory.

At the time, I didn’t know… that in the moment he helped me up, he had already made a decision I wasn’t aware of. And whether I wished it or not, from that instant, my fate was bound inextricably with his.