First Arrival at the Imperial City

She opened her eyes, every inch of her body aching to the bone. It was as if she had died and come back to life. Yan’er blinked, lying on her back as she stared up at the wavering blue sky, then closed her eyes again.

She had no idea how much time had passed before she awoke once more. With difficulty, she peeled away the cotton cloth that had been stuffed into her mouth. Her lips, parched from lack of water, were frozen in the shape of an ‘O’, and she no longer even knew how to speak. Forcing her jaw to close, her facial muscles twitched, making her frown. “What happened to me?” she murmured, half in question, half talking to herself.

Indeed, she truly didn’t know who she was or what had happened to her. Coincidentally, she had forgotten herself completely. For someone who has already forgotten who they are, what more could be said? She was unaware of what had happened to her, why she had fallen to the ground, or if she had simply been sleeping rough in this place.

“Mm… it hurts so much.” Stumbling, she got to her feet and gazed at the starry sky on the cusp of dawn. The horizon was already tinged with the pale light of morning. Her stomach rumbled in protest: I’m hungry.

Yan’er struggled upright. In such moments, even the weakest will find strength to survive. To have survived such a steep cliff was already a stroke of luck. Her bones and muscles ached everywhere, but she forced herself onward, heading in whichever direction the path led. The occasional wild berry by the roadside was not nearly enough to fill her belly. She had no idea how long she had walked, but she was certain it wasn’t far, given her feeble state after narrowly escaping death. She trudged forward, following the road on instinct alone. When exhausted, she sat by the roadside to rest. By the time she’d dawdled along, daylight had broken.

The distant clatter of horses’ hooves approached, drawing nearer. Thankfully, there was a road here—proof that, even in ancient times, the common people were truly remarkable; every village and hamlet was connected by paths.

Yan’er gazed ahead toward the sound.

“Whoa!” The cart halted before her, for the girl was blocking the only narrow road.

“Whose daughter is this?” The woman perched on the wagon’s wooden board eyed the ragged, disheveled girl before her. To be honest, Yan’er looked utterly wretched, her former beauty unrecognizable.

“Are you talking to me?” Yan’er answered weakly.

The woman looked her up and down, then turned to the old man driving the cart. “That’s right, girl, whose family are you from?”

Yan’er squinted with her swollen eye. “I don’t know either. Who are you?”

Well then! The woman exchanged a glance with her husband, thinking perhaps the girl was simple-minded.

“Girl, whose family are you from? We can take you home,” the old man finally spoke, his tone honest and sincere.

“I really don’t know,” Yan’er replied truthfully. Since waking, she hadn’t remembered anything, nor did she care to try. All she knew was: I’m hungry, I’m tired.

The old man studied her, then motioned to his wife, tapping his head. “Looks to me like the girl’s had a nasty fall.”

The woman remained seated on the cart, scrutinizing Yan’er. Her clothes were filthy and tattered, but it was clear they’d once been bright red—wedding garments, perhaps—now nothing but rags clinging to her. Her hair was matted, devoid of ornaments, her face smeared with dirt, her eyes dull and lifeless.

After a moment’s thought, the woman hopped down and touched Yan’er.

“Huh?” Yan’er watched as the woman reached for her hand, and instead, she smiled back—a feeling of kindness welling up within her.

Her little hand was covered in wounds and mud as she grasped the woman’s.

The old woman pinched a piece of Yan’er’s ‘wedding dress,’ craning her neck for a closer look. Despite its sorry state, she could tell the fabric was fine silk.

“Old man, this girl’s clothes are made of silk! Tsk tsk, in all my years, I’ve never worn anything like this,” she said, a little enviously, brushing her hand over Yan’er’s dress.

“Oh, what’s the point of looking at that?” the old man grumbled. They were farming folk, after all; silk was for wealthy families only.

A wealthy family?

“Wife, do you think this girl might be some rich family’s young lady?” the old man asked, eyes wide.

“Perhaps so. Girl, take us to your family’s house—we’ll take you home.” She must have run into some trouble, or how else would she be in such a state?

Yan’er just looked at them, silent.

The old couple tried reasoning with her, but all they got was her shaking her head or replying that she didn’t know. They felt completely defeated.

“Sigh, come on up. We’re headed to the imperial city—it’s a long way. If you’re tired, rest in the cart. Once we reach the next town, we’ll figure things out,” the old man said, nudging his wife to make room.

Yan’er didn’t hesitate, climbing right onto the cart. It was far better than walking.

Along the way, the old couple kept questioning her, but Yan’er could recall nothing—her background, her name, even how she’d ended up so dirty and disheveled.

Meanwhile, her family was frantically searching for her, unable to explain her disappearance—one moment she was there, the next, gone without a trace. Not even a sign of bandits. How could they answer to the Mo family? How had their legitimate daughter simply vanished? They’d searched all over the city and countryside, but there was no sign of her.

As her family searched in desperation, Yan’er had already hitched a free ride on a small cart bound for the imperial city.

The largest city in Panlong was the imperial city itself, where the emperor resided. The old couple was going to seek out their daughter—she and her husband had started a small business there years ago. Now, in their old age, the couple could only rely on her, so they brought along this half-witted girl. The three of them traveled for more than a month, using what little money they had, before finally arriving in a daze at the imperial city.

The city’s prosperity was unlike anything they’d seen. At most, they’d visited a market in a small town, but this was the imperial city—guarded gates, rows of soldiers, its grandeur instantly humbling.

Yan’er remained in the cart the whole journey. The old couple had learned nothing more about her; she wasn’t entirely dull-witted, nor was she particularly clever. Their money nearly gone, they bought two steaming buns at a stall by the city gate. The woman broke one in half and handed it to Yan’er, who grinned and bit in hungrily. The old man wolfed down his bun for some semblance of fullness.

They drove their cart slowly along, peering at every shop for their daughter and son-in-law’s business. The imperial city was enormous—north of the city belonged to the emperor, while the east, west, and south were crowded with streets and alleys. Finding the right shop could take days, and their remaining funds would not last long. They decided to settle in for the night and continue searching the next day.

Yan’er followed them with a silly smile, unconcerned, as long as she had food and a place to sleep. Truth be told, even before she’d lost her memory, she’d lived much the same way.

“Old man, our money’s nearly gone. This city is so big—how will we ever find our son-in-law?” The woman gazed at her husband in dismay. Neither had imagined Lin’an would be so vast, with so many people and so many shops. Even searching day and night, it would take three or four days at least, and they had hardly any money left. Staring at the bustling crowds, the couple felt lost.

When hunger is satisfied, desires arise; but when poverty strikes, survival becomes the only goal. In their situation, instinct took over, and their attention turned to Yan’er. Without funds, they might not last long enough to find their daughter and son-in-law; they could well die in this foreign city.

“Child, come, Auntie will take you to eat something nice,” the old woman said suddenly, grabbing Yan’er’s hand with a kindly smile—the only hope they had left.

She led Yan’er along the streets, uncertain where to take her. No matter what happened, she would never sell the girl into a brothel or any place unclean. She decided instead to find a wealthy household and offer Yan’er as a maid—at least such households guaranteed food and clothing, much better than elsewhere. With this in mind, she sought out the grand, imposing estates.

Xueqing, dressed in pale lavender, her beauty enhanced by the color, was muttering irritably about her troubles that day. “Such a hot day, and yet I have to go out to find a maid—this heat will be the death of me.” She fanned herself with a silk kerchief as she spoke.

The old woman, always alert, heard the young lady inside this household talking about hiring a maid. She immediately led Yan’er forward, bowed, and asked, “Miss, pardon me, but did I hear you say…?”

Xueqing eyed the pair suspiciously. “What is it, madam? I am indeed looking for a maid to bring into the household. Are you here to sell your daughter?”

“Yes, yes, miss. My husband and I are from another province, come to seek relatives. But we can’t find them, and our money is gone. We’re old now, and this child is all we have left. We have nowhere else to turn. Miss, I just heard you’re looking for a maid—what do you think of my niece?” With that, she pushed Yan’er forward for Xueqing to inspect.

The General’s estate was unlike any other; the general was a temperamental master, and everyone serving there had to be quiet and diligent. Even finding a maid required her, the housekeeper, to see to it personally. Most importantly, the new girl mustn’t be too pretty—otherwise, who knew what trouble might ensue with the master.

This girl seemed quiet enough, always trailing behind, saying little. All the maids in the household had been trained by Xueqing herself, and she trusted her own judgment. This one didn’t seem especially clever, but she was perfect for bringing into the general’s house.