The Princess Smells So Good (GL) - Chapter 14

Wei Zhao didn’t bother hiding her annoyance. She shot the slave a cold look, only to see the girl smiling at her.

That smile inexplicably reminded Wei Zhao of their moment by the river. Back then, the slave’s grin had made her seem childlike, and for a brief time, Wei Zhao had felt a rare sense of ease.

They were clearly on the run. They were supposed to be exhausted, disheveled. There wasn’t anything funny going on…

Wei Zhao spaced out a little.

She turned her head without thinking and looked toward the river. It had widened quite a bit now, the water flowing gently, looking peaceful and calm. But Wei Zhao had once sunk beneath its surface—she knew all too well how strong and treacherous the current really was beneath that calm surface.

Whatever, she thought.

“We need mounts. We need to reach the county town as soon as possible,” Wei Zhao said. There was a hint of a smile on her face, but it didn’t reach her eyes—it was more of an automatic reaction than anything sincere.

“Right now, we can only estimate our general direction. We’ll need a detailed map.”

“There won’t be any detailed maps in a mountain village,” the slave replied.

What a frustrating person. Always the first to point out a problem.

Wei Zhao glanced at her, her eyes briefly pausing on the girl’s lips, which were still chapped despite being a little better than before. Then she looked away. “The village schoolteacher might have one. Or we could ask at the carriage station. There are always ways. Besides, we only need to make it to the nearest county town. Even without a map, we can manage.”

The slave shifted slightly, sitting up straighter. “In that case, let’s rest a bit and head out. We’re both young women—if we enter a village without disguises, we might attract the attention of traffickers. Don’t accept food or water from strangers. And don’t flaunt money either.”

“Traffickers…” Wei Zhao’s brows slowly knitted together, her face clouding with anger. “Those who traffic women and children should be executed! I can’t believe people would do something so vile!”

The slave smiled faintly, unconcerned. “I saw a lot of it when I was little. Sure, they should be executed, but the truth is, in many villages, all the women were trafficked in. ‘If no one reports, there’s no case.’ When the whole village covers it up, what can you do? The ancestral line must continue, the fields need labor, the nation needs fresh bl00d. How many can you really save?”

She paused, then added, “And many of those trafficked women—once they have kids, and their sons can’t find wives—they end up helping the traffickers themselves…”

Wei Zhao was quiet for a long time. She studied the girl’s face, then, almost without realizing it, asked, “And what about where you’re from? Was it like that too?”

The slave froze, meeting Wei Zhao’s gaze. After a while, she turned her head away and said softly, “There’s nothing new under the sun. Even in places where they claim to follow rules, they’re often just chaotic—no rules at all. And when there are no rules, things are often even more cruel.”

After a pause, she continued, “My mother was a pirate. I don’t know who my father was. I don’t really have a home. But we used to sail across the seas and visit all kinds of places. Some were strict and conservative—women had to cover themselves completely, not even showing their faces to go outside. Other places, women could bare their chests and become rulers of a nation. There’s no single way things are done.”

Wei Zhao listened, deep in thought. But she didn’t let herself dwell on it for too long. She quickly lifted her head and said, “Since you’ve traveled widely, I’ll be relying on you to help guide the way ahead.” She paused, then added, “Once we’re safe, I won’t forget your contributions.”

The slave’s eyes curved slightly in a smile. “I heard you call my name.”

Wei Zhao: “…”

So she wasn’t going to let that go, huh?

Wei Zhao gave a small cough. She was, after all, a princess. And since her trusted subordinate clearly cared about this, she couldn’t just keep pretending not to notice. Besides, when it came to capable people, even a name was worth calling. In ancient times, Fu Yue was a slave who built walls and ended up becoming prime minister during the reign of King Wu Ding. By comparison, all she had to do was say a name—she wasn’t giving away power or money. Why be stingy?

With that thought, Wei Zhao put on her usual dignified smile and said smoothly, “Fa Yilian.”

But the slave didn’t respond right away. She stared at Wei Zhao’s smile. It was, of course, a very beautiful smile—noble, gracious, and approachable. Not like someone smiling as an equal, but more like someone from above being kind to those below. Most people would be overwhelmed by such kindness, flattered and grateful. And the slave had seen it many times before, how others would react—too shocked to speak, yet secretly delighted.

“I liked your earlier smile better,” the slave said, a little wistfully.

She didn’t lower her voice, so Wei Zhao heard every word, loud and clear.

Wei Zhao felt a vein in her forehead twitch. What did that mean? Was she critiquing her smile now? What, did she think she was some kind of entertainer?

“Why don’t you smile for me, then?” Wei Zhao snapped, her voice low and frustrated.

The slave blinked, then looked straight at her. A moment later, those green, cat-like eyes curved with amusement, and she pulled her lips into a wide grin—bright and carefree, showing her white teeth. Despite her pale face, for a moment, Wei Zhao felt as if time had frozen—like that fleeting glimpse when she’d emerged from the river, or the sound of unrestrained laughter in the sunlight.

Wei Zhao took a deep breath and sneered, “Not bad. I’m very pleased. When we return, whatever you want—I’ll reward you with it.”

The slave only smiled wider at that, but didn’t thank her or say anything.

Wei Zhao had long known this girl was strange. She didn’t mind. After thinking for a bit, she said, “Your name doesn’t sound like someone from Da Zhou. If people ask, it’ll be hard to explain.”

“Are you going to give me a new surname and name, Master?” the slave asked, her accent odd and her tone laced with what sounded like sarcasm.

Wei Zhao gave her a sideways look. “You wish.”

“We’ll just tell people your name is Yilian. As for your surname…” Wei Zhao suddenly remembered something. The slave had been around ten years old when she was brought into the palace—wild and hard to tame. But it was that very wildness that caught both her and her mother’s eye. The girl had become a pawn in their power struggle. Wei Zhao had always ignored her existence—she’d only recently learned her name, let alone her surname.

The slave looked up at her, this time not smiling. Her eyes shimmered with something unreadable. Wei Zhao returned her gaze, eyes clear and calm. The slave looked away and muttered something softly, in a strange, hard-to-place accent.

Wei Zhao frowned, listening carefully, but she couldn’t make it out. She shook her head. “I’ve never heard of that.”

“It’s just a surname from a remote place,” the slave said after a while, eyes focused on the distance. “It doesn’t matter. It’s all in the past anyway. Those people… they’re all gone now.”

For a moment, Wei Zhao didn’t know what to say. She realized she knew almost nothing about this girl—not her real age, not where she came from, not what misfortunes had brought her to Wei Zhao’s side.

She knew… nothing at all.