Thirty-Six Stratagems for Divorcing a Wife (GL) - Chapter 27

On Zaojing Mountain, there was a royal temporary palace, cleverly built deep within the mountains. Outwardly it looked dazzling and luxurious, but in reality, it was dark and sinister, with countless corpses buried beneath its floors.

Lu Jianzhou never imagined that such a human hell could exist in the world, built simply for the purpose of “disposing” of certain people.

No one wishes to fall ill, but in this world, being sick and unable to see a doctor is already tragic enough—and it becomes even worse when it’s treated as a fault.

Every day at noon, Lu Jianzhou would go to the heavily locked door to collect some herbs delivered for them, then prepare them for Fenxu in the modest attic.

The building was damp and eerie. Lu Jianzhou, having grown up in wealth and comfort, had never endured such hardship. At night, lying under the moonlight streaming through the broken walls, with no blankets to keep warm, she felt a deep sense of desolation, her eyes slightly wet.

Fenxu, lying on the kang (heated bed), was mostly unconscious and unable to awaken.

Lu Jianzhou could only gather some straw to cover her and, fearing she might catch a chill, even removed her own outer garment to shield her.

By the third day, Fenxu had become so frail that a gust of wind could knock her over.

“Is anyone there?” Lu Jianzhou would wait at the frozen courtyard by the door at midnight, pressing against it. At any sound, she would call out: “Is this the official delivering medicine? We’re starving here. Can you bring some food? Or even some blankets, please. The princess is ill; she must not catch cold again.”

Outside, the footsteps paused only briefly, and a medicine bundle was handed over along with a half-eaten steamed bun. “Please forgive me, General. I’m only a messenger and can only come once a day. I have a seventy-year-old mother to care for at home, so I dare not linger. The Emperor left you here to fend for yourselves. Take this bun—it’s my leftover breakfast. If you can accept it, let it be your last meal. Once you enter here, no one leaves alive. Please take care, General. Next time I come, it may be to collect the corpses…”

“You all…” Lu Jianzhou’s final scolding was swallowed by the fading footsteps. She had no choice but to take the medicine bundle and retreat indoors.

Fenxu had already awakened.

“I heard everything…” Fenxu’s lips were pale, but her gaze seemed to see through everything. “When a tiger falls to the plains, it is bullied by dogs… those people… when they needed me, they scrambled to lick my shoes… and now…”

“The world is fickle; no wonder they change with the wind. I may be powerless. Here, take this bun. After taking your medicine, we’ll leave together…” Lu Jianzhou knew further words were useless, so she placed the bun in Fenxu’s hands and turned to the stove to brew the medicine.

But Fenxu stopped her: “Why are you saving me? I’m no longer a princess. Flattering me won’t earn you any favor. You should eat it yourself and survive. Don’t bother making the medicine. When they come to collect my body, I’ll petition His Majesty to spare you.”

Lu Jianzhou nodded: “Silly girl, if I were someone who clings to life, how could I possibly stay here?”

Fenxu’s eyes blurred with tears: “But I’m scared… Lu Jianyi… I miss my mother, my father, my brother… I really don’t want to die here, in this cold, broken house…”

Though her words were childlike, they struck Lu Jianzhou deeply. Yet the first thought that sprang to mind was Nian Yanshi.

If she found out I was gone, would she come looking for me? By palace rules, this would surely be kept secret. Nian Yanshi, no matter how clever, could not find this place…

In fact, it’s not a big deal.

If I die, my brother can return home with legitimacy.

The family will no longer have secrets to hide, and Nian Yanshi is smart enough to protect them from the Emperor.

And I am dying for Princess Fenxu.

The Emperor has always favored his legitimate daughters; surely he will show some leniency to the General’s family for my sake…

Thinking this way, Lu Jianzhou felt no regret, even somewhat relieved. She comforted Fenxu: “Even if we die, having someone in the world who thinks of you is already wonderful.”

But the one she thought of would never think of her.

Even so, there was still some lingering regret.

With consecutive overcast days, no water or food, the two clung to each other, barely sustaining themselves.

Fenxu’s illness worsened, and Lu Jianzhou caught a fever, teetering on the edge of collapse.

The place itself had terrible feng shui, stirring up all sorts of unpleasant memories.

Whenever she closed her eyes, the same dream came: freedom paired with nightmare.

Then she would awaken in the cold, seeing nothing but unchanging walls and fences, the silence around absolute.

Between dream and reality, Lu Jianzhou suddenly heard urgent knocking at the door and a familiar name called out frantically—the name she almost forgot.

“Lu Jianzhou!”

“Lu Jianzhou! Are you in there?”

“Lu Jianzhou! It’s Yanshi! Open the door!”

“Lu Jianzhou! I’ve been looking for you!”

“Lu Jianzhou! Don’t hide from me anymore!”

…

The voice trembled with tears, making Lu Jianzhou’s heart ache. She ran to the door and, through the thick red-lacquered wood, shouted back: “Nian Yanshi, I’m here! I’m here!”

Her clenched fists pounded hard. Though they were so close, the distance felt impossible to bridge.

“Is it really you? Are you really here?”

“Yes! It’s me, Nian Yanshi! How did you find this place?”

“Don’t you remember it?”

Lonely. Desolate. Stark…

This eerie, secret place was strange, yet somehow familiar.

Witchcraft… rituals… curses… abandonment… resentment… loss…

A fragment suddenly flashed in Lu Jianzhou’s mind, making her hair stand on end and her body shiver.

“Jianzhou? What’s wrong?” Nian Yanshi, hearing no answer, knocked again nervously.

“Yanshi, you must leave. It’s dangerous here…” Lu Jianzhou’s expression under the dawn light was eerie, but she stared at the red door and trembled: “This place is no good. I have a bad feeling… go… don’t worry about me…”

“I won’t leave anymore. I won’t leave you!” Nian Yanshi removed the food tied to her horse and shoved it through the tiny door. “You must be starving these days. I made this myself. It might be cold, but tomorrow I’ll bring you fresh, warm ones—the chive-filled ones you like.”

Lu Jianzhou saw a bowl of dumplings pushed inside and her eyes teared up: “You silly girl… I also like scallions.”

“Then why did you praise Liji’s dumplings?” Nian Yanshi forgot to cry and scolded her instead. “Do you always have to go against me?”

Seeing her still trying to argue, Lu Jianzhou leaned against the door, softly saying: “Nian Yanshi, may I ask you something?”

Nian Yanshi pressed her ear to the door to hear clearly.

“Why do you call me Lu Jianzhou?”

Lu Jianzhou remembered that she had reminded Nian Yanshi that she was actually Lu Jianyi. Yet every time, she still called her Lu Jianzhou.

In Nian Yanshi’s eyes was a softness that Lu Jianzhou could not see. In the light just before sunrise, her face glowed more gently than the dawn: “Because I know… you are Lu Jianzhou.”

From the very beginning, she had known. The dear mischievous child who had just learned to walk, crawling into my corner, smiling at me when no one else would, telling me stories, chasing after me saying she liked me…

And at ten years old, the Lu Jianzhou who said she was willing to die for me.

“I was so afraid you’d disappear again without a sound…”

=======================

With Nian Yanshi’s care, Princess Fenxu finally began to recover.

Perhaps because she had been ill for so long, some of her previous arrogance had subsided.

Watching the two chat happily through the door, bonded like glue, she would mutter: “The power of love is truly amazing~”

Lu Jianzhou, seeing Fenxu’s face clear and unscarred, was overjoyed: “Looks like you’re almost fully recovered. You can return to the palace now.”

Fenxu, however, showed little joy, gazing at the door: “What’s the use of going back? There’s no one truly waiting for me.”

“How can you say that… you were born into royalty; there’s nothing you can do about it…” Lu Jianzhou took on the tone of a lecturing elder.

Fenxu, trying to interrupt her nagging, said: “Enough, I know. You just talk because it doesn’t hurt you!”

Fenxu walked to the door, and in that posture, shedding the pretentious little-adult act she had shown before, there was a hint of true maturity: “Sister Yanshi… please deliver a message to the palace. Tell them that Fenxu is well and ready to return.”

Lu Jianzhou watched Fenxu’s back, seeing a reflection of herself.

A child of the same age, in the same situation, surrounded by the same scenes.

Yet that figure was far lonelier than Fenxu.

“So pitiful… though it’s voluntary, what does a child that small even understand…”

“Yeah, survival of the fittest… being a princess gives you a bit more privilege.”

“Look at the child’s eyes… not a trace of life… how utterly hopeless…”

“Scary to watch… let’s finish quickly…”

“I heard this child could speak at one, called a genius at three… probably a freak. Anyway, it wasn’t me, don’t come looking for me later…”

“Really leaving her alone here?”

“Would you accompany her? I’m scared. She’s basically waiting to die anyway; at least here it can be cleaner and no one will know.”

…

Her mind recalled a noisy clamor—perhaps caused by illness—producing these strange illusions.