Chapter 30: Real Little Ghost

Freshly baked marble cakes are truly perfect for venting emotions.

The marble cakes sold here are marrow cakes, brushed with lard and roasted fragrant, crisp outside and chewy inside; one bite and the aroma of fat and the texture of the flatbread fill the mouth all at once, delivering a solid satisfaction that other delicate morning snacks cannot compare to.

Shaowei ate three marble cakes to "vent her anger."

Mo Li watched and secretly felt a lingering fear — so this child not only likes to bite people in a frenzy, but is also skilled at frenzied eating; if she had returned to the inn last night, she would likely have snatched and seized even his late meal.

"Just eating cakes won't do. Come, drink a bowl of Lu Bing." Jiang Fu handed a bowl of soup to Shaowei.

So-called Lu Bing is soup with minced meat and kale added.

Shaowei sat cross-legged on a worn straw mat, cupping the coarse pottery bowl, suddenly a bit dazed.

Only a few grains of minced meat were visible in the bowl, but kale fragments were abundant, floating in the soup, green and verdant, evoking a lush feeling that made Shaowei inexplicably think of the summer grassland where she died.

Since waking in the sheepfold, everything Shaowei had done was driven by crisis — patricide, abandoning her mother, descending the mountain… then being inexplicably "picked up" by someone — she had always been in danger and chaos.

Only now, with injuries mostly healed, belly filled with hot food, cupping warm soup, did her taut nerves temporarily relax and return, and Shaowei finally touched some sense of reality.

Everything before was real; everything now is also real.

Shaowei still had no way to know why she had this bizarre experience of "returning from death," or whether everyone gets a chance to reset after death — if so, those people's mouths are far too tight; she had never heard even a spider-silk trace of it!

Shaowei pondered deeply but dared not rashly exchange insights with anyone, truly at a loss.

While scratching her head in her heart, Shaowei suddenly saw a small ripple splash in the soup bowl.

She tilted her face up; cold raindrops fell on her forehead.

The stall owner and customers' movements all became hurried.

With a light clatter, Mo Li set down the empty soup bowl, rose, and went to lead the ox.

Shaowei snapped back, hurriedly gulping down her bowl of Lu Bing in big swallows.

Never mind; anyway she is alive now, and this time she must live past eighteen!

Shaowei clenched this small goal in her fist, gathered her bewilderment, rose, and joined that squad of two people and one ox.

Since it rained, she had to prepare travel gear; raincoats and bamboo hats were indispensable, and she also packed some dried rations and preserved fruit.

The green ox also got new equipment — a two-wheeled tablet cart was harnessed to the ox, and thus the ox cart came to be.

Only the cart body was crude, merely a simple canopy overhead, all four sides open without shielding; Jiang Fu's explanation was: "Lighter cart body, can carry goods and people, and Lu'er runs more nimbly."

Shaowei was puzzled — where did a deer come from?

Calling an ox a deer?

Jiang Fu smoothed the thick fur on the green ox's neck: "This ox is a Western Regions breed, also called Lvlu… After entering Taishan Commandery, I originally wanted to buy a common water buffalo as a mount, but the cattle dealer said water buffalo are unsuited for winter long journeys, only this ox is most suitable; supposedly even if I froze to death, it wouldn't shiver once."

She added with relief: "Though the price was high when buying, it can go days without food, and when starving can eat tree bark and ice and snow — truly thrifty to keep."

"An ox this sensible, a person should be sensible too; why burden it with meaningless weight."

Jiang Fu lifted her foot onto the cart, waved her sleeve and sat down with graceful ease, hands braced at her sides, in a fine mood surveying the scenery outside: "Besides, heading south the weather warms, spring approaches, perfect for sightseeing along the way; when the time comes, gauze curtains hung on all four sides — wouldn't that be delightful?"

Shaowei looked at the enthusiastic Jiang Fu, only feeling she looked nothing like someone fleeing enemy pursuit, more like going on a spring outing.

Speaking of spring outings, this was an activity Shaowei only learned of after returning to the Feng Family; the Feng sons and daughters were very keen on leaving the city for spring outings, meticulously preparing horses, clothes and boots, ornaments, even repeatedly selecting the horsewhips used.

The "inconvenient" Shaowei, who could not show her face, had never participated.

But what is there to trample in spring? Nothing but flowers and grasses; she had seen enough of them on Tianlang Mountain long ago, and didn't care for them at all.

The road ahead: walking and stopping, mostly sunny days.

Lodging at night, slow travel by day; Shaowei sometimes walked alongside the ox cart, sometimes sat on it for a nap.

This afternoon, a mid-journey rest; Jiang Fu lay on the cart, a half-cylinder bamboo pillow under her head, bamboo hat covering her face to block light, legs bent, soles of feet facing each other, hands on abdomen, in the Still Yang Reclining Pose, seemingly asleep deeply.

Shaowei sat cross-legged to one side, watching Mo Li feeding the ox grass; her body suddenly shifted forward, hands gripping the cart edge, and asked him: "Do you know which direction Chang'an City is in?"

Mo Li lifted his face, expressionless, shook his head: "Don't know."

Hearing this answer, Shaowei wasn't very surprised either.

From their interaction, it wasn't hard to see Mo Li's mind was impaired; he basically only knew to obey orders and act, rarely thinking or speaking on his own — except for eating — he really liked eating, only on this matter would he show a bit more wit.

"Chang'an City ah…" A drowsy, lazy voice sounded behind Shaowei.

Shaowei looked back, only to see Jiang Fu still lying, merely raising her right hand: "There, in that direction."

Shaowei looked in the direction she pointed.

Jiang Fu took the bamboo hat off her face, yawned, and asked: "What, you want to go to Chang'an, little ghost?"

"Just a casual question, I'm not going." To appear sufficiently "casual," Shaowei withdrew her gaze and directly lay back down.

Her waist and abdominal strength were excellent; such movements were smooth and natural; she made not a sound when lying down, and by the time she settled, her legs were already crossed in a figure-four, arms pillowed behind her head.

Jiang Fu's voice still lazy: "If one day, you have no choice but to go there?"

Shaowei felt this was truly making conversation out of nothing: "What do you mean 'have no choice'? Are you going to tie me up and take me?"

"This master naturally wouldn't. But worldly affairs sometimes grow many hands and feet, pushing and dragging people forward." Jiang Fu seemed to sigh casually.

On such matters, Shaowei always resisted unconditionally; she didn't hesitate: "Then I'll chop off all those hands and feet."

This answer seemed to greatly please Jiang Fu; she laughed a few times, reached out to rub Shaowei's head: "Truly the most ambitious little ghost in this heaven and earth."

Shaowei dodged her hand while correcting discontentedly: "I said stop calling me little ghost!"

All this time, Jiang Fu hadn't asked her anything, not even her name once, just "little ghost, little ghost" on her lips every day.

Hearing this correction-accusation, Jiang Fu shifted to lying on her side, propping her head on her right elbow, gazing at Shaowei, smiling faintly: "Where did I call wrong?"

She had a pair of peach-blossom phoenix eyes with slightly upturned corners, pupil light like clear waves, voice leisurely and slow: "Could it be — you aren't a real little ghost?"

This seemingly meaningful question made Shaowei's heart leap violently twice.

Good morning!

(Last day of the month, if everyone still has monthly tickets, throw one into the bowl!)

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(Chapter End)