He was still a child. Those he had seen, heard of, and was familiar with took priority.
He had never known of Chu Ling or Chu Zhao before. Hearing this name would have provoked no reaction.
But just moments ago, this name had been carved into his heart, accompanied by the impact of life-and-death separation.
He watched her from the darkness beneath the woodpile, motionless.
Beside him, someone rustled and stood up, asking softly: “Miss Chu?”
Chu Zhao was overjoyed. Seeing a figure rise from beside the woodpile, she hurried forward. The lamp in her hand revealed this was an old man.
The old man’s hair was somewhat disheveled, his face pale and beardless, wearing servant’s clothing that was obviously ill-fitting.
“I am Chu Zhao. I overheard Uncle speaking with someone,” Chu Zhao said directly without waiting for the old man to speak or ask. “Is the young prince here?”
The old man’s expression changed slightly. He understood the word in the girl’s statement—overheard, someone.
Chu Lan was talking with someone else!
He looked at this girl and without hesitation reached out to move aside the firewood.
“The young prince is here,” he said.
Chu Zhao then saw beneath the woodpile, curled into a tiny ball—the lamp flickered, and that child’s large eyes stared fixedly at her, motionless.
She didn’t know why, but at this moment, Chu Zhao’s eyes stung. She extended her hand.
“Come,” she said softly. “Come with me.”
The old man was about to say something when he saw the motionless child rise and grasp Chu Zhao’s hand.
Chu Zhao pulled him close beside her, wanting to pick him up.
Although she was thirteen years old, she was actually still a child herself. Picking up a six-year-old child was like a cat carrying a mouse—
The old man hurried forward: “Let me, let me.” He quickly picked up the child.
Chu Zhao didn’t insist. She turned and walked outside, and the old man didn’t ask questions but simply followed her.
The back courtyard was pitch black. Chu Zhao carried the small lamp, its dim light illuminating the path. Only the soft sound of two sets of footsteps could be heard. Soon they arrived at a courtyard gate.
“Miss.” A’Le’s voice came from the side, and the door was opened.
Chu Zhao led the old man and the two others through. A’Le closed the door, bolting it several times, then propped wood boards against it.
“Miss.” Only then did she look at the old man and child, but didn’t ask questions. She opened a bundle on the ground. “Everything is prepared.”
Chu Zhao said to the old man: “We need to go out. There are people watching outside. You should disguise yourselves.”
……
……
The sounds of crying and fighting in the night streets seemed much quieter, but the sounds inside Chu Garden suddenly became much more chaotic.
Chu Tang, hiding in a crevice of the artificial mountain, was startled.
“What’s going on?” she demanded in a low voice.
The maid squeezed beside her nodded angrily: “Exactly. At a time like this, Sister Zhao letting them hide here is already dangerous enough, and now they’re making loud noises.”
Though they said this, master and servant remained motionless—neither willing to stop the commotion.
“What’s happening!”
The servants guarding the gate were extremely alarmed, watching an old person and a small child push past Miss Chu Zhao.
In the dimness, an old woman in floral cloth clothing held a small girl, looking bloated and ungainly, yet possessing considerable strength—she’d pushed both Chu Zhao and A’Le aside.
“We want to go home. My son is still at home,” the old woman shouted, her voice crying, garbled and strange.
“It’s still very dangerous outside,” Chu Zhao said urgently. “Don’t go out.”
A’Le said angrily: “Miss, don’t mind them. If they want to die, let them die. Making noise here will get us all killed.”
Hearing this, the gate-guarding servants became even more alarmed. Yes, making noise in the house would invite trouble—
They stepped back, not blocking the way, letting the old woman carrying the child open the door and run out.
Chu Zhao stamped her foot: “Too dangerous. I’ll go persuade them back.”
She ran out after them.
“Miss, don’t mind them—” A’Le wanted to dissuade her mistress and chased after her.
The servants stood inside the gate, at a loss. To chase out—they didn’t dare. Not to chase out—they also didn’t quite dare.
“Miss, Miss—” They clung to the gate, calling softly. “Come back quickly—don’t mind them—”
This commotion in the dark night was very conspicuous, attracting the attention of watchful eyes hiding in the surroundings.
What’s happening?
“Someone ran out.”
“Ordinary people.”
“Many civilians came to Chu Garden to take shelter.”