The Princess Smells So Good (GL) - Chapter 63

Wei Zhao immediately turned her head to look at A Zong.

Should I intervene?

Wei Zhao asked herself this question. If it were before, she would have turned a blind eye to such matters. In her world, personal privacy didn’t exist. Especially for someone of her status, there were always people around, constantly creating problems and drama. For someone like Wei Zhao, meddling in others’ affairs would mean she could do little else.

Lowering her eyes, her hand moved slightly.

At that moment, A Zong stepped forward.

Wei Zhao saw her plant her sword firmly into the ground, gripping the hilt tightly with both hands, her gaze fixed on Song Sisi, though her hands trembled slightly. Wei Zhao, who had just started to lift her hand, let it drop again.

“I now have the status of a free person, and I will not follow you,” A Zong said.

“…A free person…” Song Sisi muttered, lowering her gaze. “But no one has informed me, your master, about this.”

Wei Zhao raised her eyebrows, about to speak, but A Zong calmly responded, “I have an official document stamped by the authorities. If you’re unhappy, feel free to take it up with them.”

That’s right—A Zong knew her current standing and was confident that no one would dare challenge her while Wei Zhao supported her. This child, Wei Zhao thought, had grown much smarter. A hint of approval appeared on Wei Zhao’s face. She liked people who knew how to leverage her power for their benefit. Unfortunately, there were always a few who couldn’t grasp this, which was rather disappointing.

Song Sisi, despite her frail health and lack of martial skill, had always been cunning. Hearing A Zong’s reply, she understood that A Zong had someone backing her. Her gaze shifted to Wei Zhao. Wei Zhao raised her brows slightly and smiled, saying nothing. After all, without proof, she wasn’t about to admit anything.

Song Sisi also knew this, and considering the current complexities, she wouldn’t willingly provoke Wei Zhao without reason. Almost immediately, she lowered her eyes, sighing softly. “It seems I have no control over you anymore.”

A Zong clenched her jaw but remained silent.

Song Sisi’s eyes lingered on A Zong, filled with a mix of regret and disappointment.

“A Zong,” she said in a soft, gentle voice. “I gave you that name, and you grew up by my side. From the time you were small until now, I believe I’ve never wronged you.”

A Zong’s expression faltered. It was true. Song Sisi had raised her, trained her, disciplined her, and restricted her, but, as she claimed, she had never treated her unfairly. She had kept A Zong as one might a beloved pet, indulging occasional defiance, even at her own expense. A Zong had disliked such treatment, but… she also felt it wasn’t something she could entirely blame on Song Sisi.

Compared to other slaves, A Zong had indeed lived a life of relative privilege and even envy.

She had heard the envious whispers of other slaves, wishing to take her place.

She had also heard the scorn of free people, calling her nothing more than a “pet.”

It took courage to recognize oneself as a pet.

A Zong knew she could have continued living in ignorance, enjoying her limited happiness. But she couldn’t. She refused. She was human, like everyone else. She spoke the same language, worked harder than most, and excelled at everything she did. So why was she born inferior? Why, when others could stand with dignity, was she forced to kneel, or even crawl?

“You’ve never wronged me,” A Zong said. “But I haven’t wronged you either.”

Wei Zhao turned her gaze to A Zong. Now, this was interesting—there was a hint of defiance in her words, reminiscent of Wei Zhao’s own servants.

Song Sisi froze. Facing criticism from her subordinates, she had always reflexively questioned whether she had overstepped. Song Sisi had learned this from a young age. Whenever she used this approach, A Zong would become anxious, reflect on her actions, admit her faults, and fall into the trap Song Sisi had set.

But this time…

Something was different.

A surge of panic arose in Song Sisi’s chest. She instinctively clutched her heart, staring at A Zong. A Zong returned her gaze, standing firm. It reminded Song Sisi of the time A Zong had left her before—except this time, it felt more resolute.

Last time, A Zong had been afraid of causing her harm. She had even killed a bandit to protect her but couldn’t bring herself to face her directly. This time, A Zong simply stood there, looking at her as if she were a stranger who might need saving.

“You…” This thought sent a chill down Song Sisi’s spine. Her voice softened further. “A Zong, you’re a free person now, and you’ve severed ties with Songhe Sect. Fine. But shouldn’t you return the martial skills you learned from our sect?”

A Zong hesitated, looking down at her hands.

A faint smile appeared on Song Sisi’s lips, but it quickly disappeared as A Zong looked up, her eyes filled with the stubborn determination Song Sisi knew well.

“Fine…” A Zong’s foot nudged the sword, and it landed in her hand. Song Sisi watched in shock as A Zong’s expression softened, replaced by an unfamiliar smile—bright and free.

It was a smile Song Sisi had never seen before.

She had known A Zong since she was a child. A Zong had always been obedient and gentle. Even when Song Sisi had been a reckless, spoiled child, A Zong had endured her tantrums with quiet patience.

Now, though…

“Wait,” Wei Zhao interjected. Ignoring Song Sisi’s furious glare, she turned to A Zong. “You’re a good child. But you’ve promised to protect me. Without your martial skills, how will you do that? With your life?”

Wei Zhao smiled faintly. “I don’t need useless people sacrificing themselves for me.”

A Zong, ever sincere, froze. A bead of sweat appeared on her forehead. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that.”

“No rush,” Wei Zhao replied with a nod. “You can take your time to think it over.”

A Zong glanced at Song Sisi and said softly, “I promised her first. I’ll repay your kindness once this is settled.”

Song Sisi glared at A Zong, taking a step forward. “You’re lying! You just don’t want to give up your skills!”

A Zong frowned slightly, looking genuinely hurt. “I’m not lying.”

That look pulled Song Sisi back to the past. She almost felt as though nothing had changed. She blurted, “Kneel!”

This time, A Zong didn’t obey. She stared at Song Sisi for a moment before speaking firmly. “I’m a free person now, Miss Song.”

Miss Song…

Song Sisi stood frozen.

“All right, enough of this quarrel,” Wei Zhao said, waving a hand dismissively. “Escort the guest out.”

Song Sisi, powerless and without martial skill, was carried out like a kitten, despite her protests.

Wei Zhao didn’t spare her a glance as she turned and left. A Zong followed closely, her expression somber but her spirit clearly uplifted.

Wei Zhao glanced at A Zong and yawned. She had thought A Zong might harbor resentment toward her mistress, but no—she was still soft-hearted, even after all this. It was a little disappointing and rather boring.

Life here, Wei Zhao thought, was becoming too much like her days in the capital—always dangerous, yet endlessly dull.

Everyone seemed like crickets trapped in a jar, provoked by a stick, fighting with all their might.

It was all so… tedious.

Wei Zhao decided she still found her servant interesting. She was different from everyone else around her, and what she desired was, naturally, different too.

But people like that had the right to ask for something different.

As for hearts… Wei Zhao thought, even she didn’t know if she had one.