Chapter 53
Chapter 53
Facing the boundless blue sky, Shengsheng shed one silent tear.
Zhiyu felt terrible at the sight of her distress. She wrapped her arms around Shengsheng and gently patted her back, just as Shengsheng always did when coaxing her to sleep.
Shengsheng sniffed.
Damn it.
She had left her entire fortune in her room, and the door was unlocked.
What if a thief took everything?
She patted Zhiyu’s back and pulled her to her feet.
“Sitting here will accomplish nothing. Let us find a town and somehow earn enough traveling money to go back.”
Zhiyu nodded.
Bare hills stretched in every direction. Though the season should have been lush with growth, the land looked desolate.
Shengsheng took Zhiyu’s hand and began walking toward the sun.
Zhiyu stopped her.
Shengsheng looked back. “What is wrong?”
Zhiyu pointed in the opposite direction.
“That way.”
Though Zhiyu had become a little foolish after losing her memories, she remained remarkably skilled at finding the correct path–not to mention calling down lightning.
Remembering every previous example of that talent, Shengsheng nodded and changed direction.
Despite their name, the people of the frontier tribes were hardly primitive.
They possessed cities, social ranks, and a flourishing trade network.
Their only notable shortcoming was a certain hostility toward outsiders.
They especially disliked the people who lived on the former territory of the Qing Kingdom, now divided among the Zhu, Yong, and Zhen Kingdoms.
Because of their distinct bloodline, the frontier tribes had once been enslaved by the people of Qing. Only after Qing’s destruction did their century of servitude end and freedom become possible.
Some even claimed that the tribes knew the location of Qing’s legendary treasure, a hoard as vast as a mountain.
That rumor had brought no shortage of thieves into their land.
Zhiyu truly deserved to be called the heroine.
After the two women walked at an easy pace for only one hour, a city appeared ahead.
Before entering, Shengsheng mixed water with black mud from the hills and smeared it across every patch of exposed skin on both of them.
Ordinary mud naturally could not change a person’s complexion.
The dirt merely provided a plausible explanation for the skin-darkening potion Shengsheng had redeemed from A-Pang.
She watched the fair-skinned Zhiyu transform into a dark little doll, then nodded in satisfaction.
The two of them truly were pitiful.
Every time they reached a new place, they had to dress like refugees before daring to enter.
Members of the frontier tribes generally had wheat-colored skin and deep, strongly defined features.
They spoke the same language as Shengsheng, but their distinctive accent made outsiders easy to identify.
Shengsheng quickly invented identities for herself and Zhiyu:
two mute sisters fleeing famine in another region.
Ah. The familiar refugee experience.
This was one of the larger cities. Its streets were crowded and lively even without a festival.
As Shengsheng and Zhiyu walked, passersby repeatedly looked their way.
At first, Shengsheng feared their disguise had failed.
Then a young man with a muscular bare chest rushed in front of them.
“What is your name?” he shouted at Shengsheng. “I like you!”
Had the sun risen in the west?
Zhiyu stood right beside her, yet a man had chosen Shengsheng?
Her first response was confusion.
Her second was delight.
With that face and body, she would have accepted in the modern world.
What a pity.
She gave the young man one regretful look, shook her head, and pointed at her throat.
Surely he would retreat once he understood that she was mute.
Instead, he brightened.
“Wonderful! Only a few days ago, I finished a storybook called *My Mute Bride*. This must be fate granted by Heaven!”
Shengsheng stared at him.
Heavenly fate itself probably felt terribly unlucky.
As Shengsheng struggled to escape the young man’s overly enthusiastic courtship, someone in the crowd suddenly cried out.
“Look! A bird!”
The street erupted.
Shengsheng could only imagine a gigantic question mark hovering over her head.
What was so unusual about a bird?
They could all look down and find one–
Following everyone’s gazes upward, she saw that something truly was circling in the brilliant blue sky.
Naturally, Shengsheng could not care less about some random bird. She caught Zhiyu, who wanted to join the crowd, and pulled her onward.
She had taken only a few steps when every person who had been watching the sky turned toward her in perfect unison.
Shengsheng’s feet became strangely heavy.
She looked back with equal parts confusion and innocence.
What was happening?
As though only just coming to their senses, the townspeople dropped to their knees together.
“We greet the Divine Envoy.”
Shengsheng froze.
Had they picked up the wrong script?
This was still the set of *The Adventures of Shengsheng Zhou*, was it not?
Another enormous question mark appeared above her head.
Only when Zhiyu pointed toward her shoulder did Shengsheng understand.
She turned.
A snow-white ball of feathers with a familiar, arrogant face stood upon her shoulder.
The bird whose color had washed off?
Shengsheng clapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from crying out.
But why did a bird on her shoulder make her a Divine Envoy?
She was escorted to the city lord’s residence in utter confusion.
In the end, A-Pang had to explain.
When the Qing Kingdom still existed, its people worshiped the phoenix. White birds were believed to be attendants serving beneath its throne.
After Qing fell, the frontier tribes hated everything and everyone connected to the old kingdom.
Their faith in the phoenix, however, had been carved too deeply into their blood to erase.
Strangely, after Qing’s destruction, when the tribes reclaimed wasteland and founded a realm of their own, birds of every kind became rare throughout their territory.
The occasional bird was therefore considered an auspicious sign.
Shengsheng considered this.
Were birds rare here simply because there were too many snakes?
She and Zhiyu had encountered at least ninety on the road, if not several hundred. The creatures were practically a plague.
A dark-skinned young woman approached to lead Shengsheng to a bath, but Shengsheng refused.
Using hand gestures, she indicated that her refusal to bathe carried profound hidden meaning.
She performed the role of mystical charlatan to perfection.
A-Pang watched in silence.
Whatever else one might say, no one entered a role faster than Shengsheng. If she ranked second, no one would dare claim first.
***
Far away in the Zhen Kingdom, Weiqing had not rested all day.
Exhausted, he sat in his study and stared blankly at the flowers Shengsheng had arranged the day before.
If he had known, he would never have quarreled with her.
The door suddenly opened, and a red-clad figure entered.
Weiqing’s spine straightened instantly.
“A-Sheng. Have you received any news?”
Fusheng Duan lazily shook his head and sat across from him. He picked up a pastry and slowly took a bite.
“None.”
Disappointment crossed Weiqing’s face before his expression went blank again.
Fusheng set down the pastry after only one bite and wiped the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief.
“Disgusting.”
He would find the little palace maid who was currently playing Divine Envoy and have her make him something fresh instead.
Remembering Qingbai’s report, a smile slowly curved his lips.