“Wang Wu took his people to her. Don’t worry.”
Zhang Zhixu slowly exhaled a long breath.
His robes were soaked through, and his dark hair had come loose — wet strands of it falling across his forehead, making his lips appear all the more pallid.
Chen Baoxiang instructed Zhao Huaizhu to withdraw, pulled him swiftly up onto her horse, and reached over to retrieve the robe from the pack hanging at her side, handing it over to him.
“I’m not cold.” Zhang Zhixu held firm.
Chen Baoxiang raised an eyebrow, pressed her heels into the horse’s flanks — and the wind whipped up around them from all sides, sending a tremor through his fingertips.
Zhang Zhixu had no chance to recant his words; he was so cold he could only hold on tightly to the person in front of him.
The bandits on the far bank, seeing how many of them there were, appeared to give up and did not give chase again.
Chen Baoxiang glanced back, then tightened the reins and turned to Zhao Huaizhu: “Keep watch for me.”
“Understood.”
Zhang Zhixu, still dazed from the wind, was pulled off the horse and led into the bamboo grove. The wet, heavy robe on his body was skillfully unknotted at the ties.
“What are you doing?” He caught her hand.
Chen Baoxiang replied without a trace of patience: “Let go.”
Her tone, unusually fierce, left no room for discussion.
Zhang Zhixu complied and let go, allowing her to strip off his outer robe and inner garment, wring out the undershirt, and use it to dry the water from his body.
His complexion, already fair, had gone even paler from the soaking — and in some places, the skin had been broken.
Chen Baoxiang looked on with a tight press of her lips: “How long were you hiding?”
“I don’t know.” Zhang Zhixu shook his head. “That group of men kept patrolling back and forth along the bank — I didn’t dare move the whole time.”
“Have Jiuquan brew you ginger tea when you get back, and you’d better soak in a bath as well.” She helped him into the clean robe, then carefully straightened his cuffs.
Normally, even an oversized robe cut to a woman’s measurements would be somewhat constricting on him.
Yet this one fit just right.
Zhang Zhixu looked down at it: “Yours?”
“A gift from Official Xu — but he wasn’t sure how large to make it, so he just erred on the bigger side. Said you could layer extra garments inside it in winter.”
“…”
He tugged at the hem with an expressionless face: “It looks like it was made with care — and you’re just letting me wear it, just like that. Won’t your Official Xu be upset?”
“At a time like this, you’re still thinking about that?” Having finished arranging the robe, Chen Baoxiang pulled him up onto her horse. “Come on — let’s go join the others.”
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