The Princess Smells So Good (GL) - Chapter 73

“Your Highness, are you sure about this?”

Song Qing spoke cautiously, sneaking a glance at Wei Zhao. She was now unrecognizable: dressed in coarse fabric, her hair neatly pinned, her face altered with glue and dough to lift her jawline, darkened to a whitish tone with added sunspots. She looked like a modest woman from a struggling fishing village.

Wei Zhao gave Song Qing a brief glance but didn’t respond. Song Qing knew better than to expect an answer.

For a moment, Song Qing doubted his decision. If the princess wasn’t reliable, the hundred-year foundation of Songhe Sect… A chill ran down his spine. He shook his head and pushed the thought away. He had already chosen this path—no use dwelling on regrets.

Ten miles outside Haizhou City, surrounded by mountains, stood a cliff concealing a hidden dock in a cave.

It was Wei Zhao’s first time on a sea vessel. Having experienced riverboats before, she wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. Standing on the deck, she noticed more ships appearing as they neared the dock. The harbor was a natural cave expanded over time. Dozens of massive lamps hung on the cliffs, casting a dim light.

Masked figures disembarked from the boats, one by one, each checked by armed guards stationed on either side. The guards were well-equipped; some held firearms, making Wei Zhao’s gaze darken.

“What are you staring at?” One of the guards barked at her, catching her glance.

Wei Zhao lowered her eyes. Song Qing immediately stepped forward, bowing and speaking in a thick local accent. “Forgive her, gentlemen. She’s just a youngster from the family here to broaden her horizons.”

Wei Zhao noted how flawless Song Qing’s accent was, blending seamlessly with the peculiar dialect of the region, as though he had lived there his whole life. Despite her disdain for mercenaries, she had to admit his skill was impressive.

After a brief exchange, the guard relented, albeit with a skeptical look, even ordering them to remove their masks briefly for inspection. Recognizing Song Qing’s disguise, the guard muttered, “Old Third Sun, I’ll let it slide this time. Things are tight lately. Don’t bring shady characters here; it’ll cause trouble for everyone.”

“Of course, of course. I’ll treat you to drinks next time,” Song Qing said with a nervous laugh.

Relieved, Song Qing led Wei Zhao deeper inside. Though it was his first time here, he had memorized the map and moved without hesitation, eventually shaking off the watchful eyes behind them. From behind came another angry shout: “What are you staring at!”

Was it some kind of intimidation tactic? Or were there new arrivals?

Wei Zhao was curious, but when she took a step forward, Song Qing grabbed her sleeve. She glanced down at his hand, prompting him to immediately let go. Wei Zhao gave him a look, and he smiled bitterly. “Best not to look around too much here.”

Wei Zhao nodded thoughtfully.

Song Qing’s credentials had been acquired from a local gang leader. Creating a convincing pass was difficult, but Wei Zhao’s skilled craftsmen had managed it. After capturing the gang leader and extracting all his knowledge, Song Qing disguised himself to match the man closely. In the dim lighting of the cave, they managed to pass undetected.

Initially confident of escaping unscathed, Song Qing now found himself sweating. Wei Zhao’s curiosity-filled glances made him fear their chances had dropped significantly. But soon, she restrained herself, quietly observing without raising suspicion. Only then did Song Qing breathe easier.

The location was a large underground auction house carved into the cliffs. It was a hub for buying and selling weapons, exchanging intelligence, and trading goods too shady for the public eye. The most prominent business here, however, was weapons. The underground auction’s ability to thrive among pirates stemmed largely from its control over firearms.

Due to the vast size of the Zhou Dynasty, its strict control of resources like salt, iron, and grain was necessary. If rebels ever arose, unchecked supplies would only exacerbate the threat. Wei Zhao estimated the number of ships she had seen and deduced that pirates would favor crossbows over swords due to higher consumption. This implied a significant scale of production.

Producing such weapons required furnaces, iron, coal, and transportation—none of which were inconspicuous. Yet, since her arrival in Haizhou, Wei Zhao had found no clues, prompting a faint, icy smile.

The dock led to a three-story building carved into the cliff. Brightly lit, it echoed with the sound of feasting and flirtation. The further they went, the darker Wei Zhao’s expression grew.

Song Qing led her to their assigned spot and gestured for her to sit. Around them, others filled their seats, though scattered and silent, avoiding eye contact with one another.

Wei Zhao scanned the crowd and noticed many muscular figures, clearly hardened fighters rather than pampered elites.

Could it truly be only pirates here?

Before she could think further, she felt someone’s gaze. Looking up, she spotted a figure dressed in black sitting across from her. Everyone wore masks, so their faces were obscured, but his stare was blatant. Wei Zhao frowned, while Song Qing rose and said sharply, “Friend, is this your first time here? Don’t you know the rules?”

The man chuckled, his voice low and familiar.

Wei Zhao’s frown relaxed slightly as she tried to recall where she’d heard it before. Suddenly, something flew toward them. Song Qing caught it—a large, shiny red apple.

“…” Song Qing stared at it, speechless.

“I thought the lady might be thirsty,” the man said, his voice deep.

A wave of mocking laughter rippled through the crowd.

“Does he think this is a brothel?” someone jeered, eliciting more laughter.

Though the crowd laughed, none dared act, mindful of the venue’s rules against fighting. Song Qing hesitated, knowing he could silence the man with a demonstration of skill but fearing exposure.

Before he could act, Wei Zhao reached out, taking the apple.

Startled, Song Qing turned to her. She examined the fruit—spotless and polished as though carefully prepared.

Lifting her veil slightly, she revealed only her chin. Her altered jawline softened her features, yet her movements were graceful. She opened her mouth slightly, revealing neat, pearly teeth and a hint of red tongue.

“Unbelievable,” someone muttered, their voice barely audible over the sound of swallowing. Despite her plain appearance, Wei Zhao exuded an irresistible charm, drawing eyes instinctively. As she bit into the apple, a few onlookers let out quiet gasps, as if they had been the ones bitten.

“It’s sweet. Thank you,” Wei Zhao said lightly, lowering her veil and taking her seat again. Disappointed murmurs filled the air.

Though the man didn’t respond, Wei Zhao could feel his intense gaze on her. Unlike the others, his stare lacked curiosity—it held something deeper and heavier.

Annoyance?

What does he have to be annoyed about?

And why should she care?

Wei Zhao scoffed inwardly and dismissed him from her thoughts.

Soon, a heavy gong rang out, quieting the room. The focus shifted to the center stage, where a young man dressed as a scholar greeted the crowd with a polite bow.

“Apologies for interrupting your discussions,” he said with a smile. “But we have something new to present today. Please take a moment to have a look.”

“Something new?” someone whispered, intrigued. Wei Zhao deduced such announcements were rare. Why now?

The scholar clapped his hands, and the rumble of wheels echoed. A long, cloth-covered object was pushed onto the stage. When the cloth was removed, revealing a heavy black iron cannon, Wei Zhao’s face turned pale.

“Impossible…” she whispered, her voice so faint that only Song Qing heard her. Glancing at her, he followed her gaze to the object.

“Behold, the bronze muzzle cannon,” the scholar announced proudly, unveiling the heavy artillery to an astonished audience.