The Princess Smells So Good (GL) - Chapter 10

“You’ve really let me down.”

As soon as the words fell, a whip cracked sharply through the air, followed by the sound of it tearing into flesh. Wei Zhao flinched. She didn’t dare look back—bl00d made her legs go weak, and weakness was something she couldn’t afford to feel.

No one in the deep palace liked weakness.

Not even Wei Zhao herself.

“A Xian.” Her mother-empress crouched down and placed both hands on Wei Zhao’s shoulders. She looked at her daughter with a faint smile. “Mother loves you. That’s why I won’t let you get hurt. But when you make a mistake, someone has to take the punishment for you, right?”

She held Wei Zhao’s shoulders and turned her around. Wei Zhao wanted to close her eyes, but more than the fear inside her, she feared the woman in front of her. Her body trembled. Under her mother’s calm, steady hands, she felt like a tiny, fragile quail, barely born and already shaking.

“Look,” her mother said softly, almost casually. “She’s not even crying. Look at her eyes—such a strong little thing. She’ll be able to take it.”

Wei Zhao stared blankly ahead. The girl’s fiery red hair was soaked in bl00d. It was hard to tell whether the color came from the hair itself or from the bl00d. But her eyes—they were locked on Wei Zhao.

They were calm and gentle, but full of life. Fierce, unyielding. She looked like a mirror, reflecting all of Wei Zhao’s weakness. Wei Zhao thought she should hate this child—for forcing her to face the part of herself she most wanted to ignore. But in that moment, what she felt wasn’t hate.

It was something else.

How amazing.

She thought.

She’s not afraid of anything. Nothing can stop her from trying to survive, from fighting her way forward.

How amazing.

In that instant, Wei Zhao wanted her to live. To live for a long, long time.

A splash snapped her out of the memory. She looked toward the river and saw a dark shape flying straight at her. She instinctively stepped back. The thing landed at her feet, flopping around—it was a silver fish, plump and wriggling.

Wei Zhao stood there, stunned, still half-lost in her memories. The fish thrashed, sending a spray of water that splattered all over her.

Wei Zhao: “……”

What a ridiculous creature!

Laughter echoed from the river—free and unrestrained.

Wei Zhao looked over. The slave was in the water, her collarbone visible above the surface. She smiled at Wei Zhao, eyes squinting slightly, lips curled into a grin showing two rows of white teeth. Her red hair was soaked, dripping water that ran down her face and over her collarbone.

Completely unpresentable… Wei Zhao thought.

Yet despite herself, a smile tugged at her lips.

It was strange. Why was she smiling? Wei Zhao wondered. They were being hunted, their future uncertain, and the slave was an unruly fool. Who was she smiling for?

The slave waded toward her, still smiling, carefree. “This kind of fish is delicious. The meat’s really tender. We’re lucky today.”

Wei Zhao heard her own voice reply, “Alright.” It sounded light—almost happy.

Suddenly, she remembered: smiling doesn’t need a reason.

The slave built a fire. She worked busily by the rocks, making a simple stove. She dug a small pit in the dirt underneath to let the smoke escape. It was clear her campfire skills had improved a lot.

Wei Zhao sat nearby and watched. The slave wore simple clothes—just a loose inner shirt, the rest of her clothing folded neatly to the side. She squatted by the river, quickly and efficiently cleaning the fish. There was a faint smell of bl00d at first, but the rising steam soon washed it away.

She found a branch to skewer the fish, peeling off the dirty bark and carefully flipping it over the fire. Then she pulled out a small pouch, sprinkled some salt, and let the fish sizzle in its own oil. The smell was mouthwatering.

Wei Zhao’s stomach growled—loudly.

The slave paused, and Wei Zhao instantly clutched her belly. She saw the slave looking at her with a crooked smile starting to form.

Flustered, Wei Zhao barked, “You didn’t hear anything!”

The slave’s smile widened, but her voice was respectful. “Of course. I didn’t hear a thing.”

Wei Zhao pressed her lips together. She wanted to say something but stopped when she met the slave’s eyes—beautiful green eyes, though faintly bruised underneath. For a moment, she hesitated. Then, without a word, she huddled in a corner, still holding her belly.

Soon, the fish was done and handed to her. Wei Zhao turned her head and saw the slave looking at her. “Eat.”

Wei Zhao hesitated. She looked at the fish, then at the slave.

The slave seemed to understand what she was thinking and grinned. “I have dry rations.”

But probably not enough, Wei Zhao thought.

People doing hard labor needed more food. And all this time, it wasn’t Wei Zhao doing the work. She lowered her eyes, tore off a piece of fish, then pushed the rest back. “I’m not that hungry. This much is enough for me.”

The slave stayed silent, but Wei Zhao could feel her gaze—hot and heavy, like it was burning her. She bit her lip and suddenly raised her head, eyes full of anger. “How dare you disobey my orders and stare at me! I told you to eat it—now!”

The slave looked like she was considering it. She didn’t seem to take the command too seriously.

Just as Wei Zhao was about to explode, the slave nodded, took the fish, turned her back, and started eating quietly.

That caught Wei Zhao off guard.

Fine, but why turn your back to eat?

She glanced at the slave again and saw the faded whip scars under her thin shirt—layer upon layer, like tattoos that time couldn’t wash away.

Wei Zhao finally lowered her head and took a small bite.

It was nothing like the tough, dry rabbit meat they’d eaten on the first night. The fish was juicy, flavored with smoke and a hint of salt, and had a lingering sweetness when chewed. It was really, really good.

After eating, both of them were tired. They didn’t travel far and found a nearby tree to rest in. As usual, the slave climbed first and used a rope to pull Wei Zhao up. Once in the tree, Wei Zhao instinctively nestled into a comfortable spot in the slave’s arms and yawned. Then a gentle hand ruffled her head, and the slave’s voice came softly beside her ear.

“Go to sleep.”

The annoyance of being patted on the head didn’t outweigh the sleepiness brought on by her words. Wei Zhao closed her eyes and quickly fell asleep.

When she woke, she was confused. It wasn’t a natural waking—she’d been shaken awake by the slave. Years in the palace had trained her to be cautious, so she stayed silent and alert. She looked up. The sky was still dark and hazy. They were very close, close enough to hear each other’s breathing and see every tiny detail of each other’s faces.

The slave pointed to her ear.

Wei Zhao frowned slightly but soon heard it too.

Dogs barking. Far off, their cries echoed through the mountains.

Wei Zhao turned her head and saw faint lights through the leaves. Not just one, but several.

They’d been found. The enemy knew their location. That’s why so many were gathering.

Goosebumps broke out on her skin, and her back went stiff. She clenched her jaw so tightly, she could feel her teeth trembling.

A warm hand pressed against her back.

In that moment, it felt like the warmth from the slave’s hand was flowing straight into her, calming her panic. The slave leaned in and whispered, “I’ll go down and lead them the other way. You escape on your own. I’ll leave the supplies with you.”

Maybe she didn’t plan to come back.

She paused, then smiled faintly and added, with surprising calm, “A torch doesn’t light a wide area. They probably have no more than fifteen people. I might not die.”

Maybe she only said that to comfort herself.

Wei Zhao’s mind filled with thoughts—messy, confusing ones. She didn’t know why her brain was so cluttered. She looked up at the slave. In the dark, her green eyes weren’t as bright—almost looked black, just like Wei Zhao’s.

What was the difference between a slave and a noble?

Wei Zhao knew this wasn’t the time to be asking such questions. She should let the slave go, ensure her own survival. But she couldn’t help herself. She always overthought things. Her mother had told her that before—when she was a child.

Back then, her mother-empress had made her watch as the whip landed on that vibrant, defiant girl’s back. They both looked into those same eyes. Her mother had said in her ear, “She reminds me of you as a baby. If you hadn’t had those eyes when you were born, you’d have died. A Xian, you’ve really let me down. So now, let her take your place.”

Take her place.

To suffer. To be tortured. Maybe even to die.

Wei Zhao suddenly reached out and grabbed the slave’s hand. The slave looked surprised.

Wei Zhao’s lips were dry, her throat parched. It felt like fire was burning her from the inside out.

“We go together.”

Before the slave could argue, Wei Zhao licked her cracked lips and spoke again.

“If you’re not with me, I won’t survive anyway.”