When Dongfang Yi opened her eyes she found herself in a place she did not recognize. She flexed her fingers and toes, relieved to find them whole, and sat up to take in her surroundings.
It was plainly a peasant’s cottage — a thatched roof, a rough wooden table and chairs, a simple straw mat and coarse linen on the bed. Nothing grand, nothing noble. Just a common household.
That realization eased the tight knot in her chest. Someone had pulled her from the pit and nursed her back to consciousness. But where was Helian Rong, the man who had fallen with her? Her brows tightened. She tried to rise to search for him, but the new venom combined with the after-effects of her old injury left her weaker than she expected.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a hurried voice outside, then the slam of a door as a man rushed in.
“Your Majesty!” he called.
It was Helian Rong. For a long, frantic heartbeat she simply watched him: the way his eyes softened into worry when they landed on the pale woman on the mattress, how he immediately crossed the room and bent to her side. “Are you still in pain?” he asked.
Seeing him upright and hale, her panic melted into relief. She forced a small smile. “I’m fine now. Prince Nanping — how are you?”
She had not forgotten the sight of his ankle, bitten by a snake in that dark pit, how he hadn’t woken at all at first. Now he looked much better, and that reassured her further.
“Who found us?” she asked.
At that moment a woman appeared from the doorway carrying a tray of food, a small boy trailing at her heels.
Dongfang Yi’s gaze flitted to the boy and she blinked. “Aren’t you the little boy who stopped me from hunting in the woods?” she asked.
He was the same child who had snatched up the white rabbit she’d been about to shoot. Back then, when she’d tried to ask his name, he’d run off. She had not expected to see him again.
Prince Nanping put an arm through the woman’s and introduced them with a gesture. “Your Majesty, this is the Princess of Shangyang of the Eastern Dominion — she is my and the Emperor’s aunt.”
The name made something in Dongfang Yi click. Shangyang Princess. She had a vague familiarity with the title, a face she had seen in passing in court portraits and stories. She inclined her head in thanks. “Thank you, Princess, for saving us,” she said, gratitude warming her voice. A small comfort bloomed in her: if the princess was involved, He Lian Qi — her husband — would be pleased to hear they had help.
Her thoughts flicked to the emperor and she frowned. “We’re still inside the forest. Does His Majesty know we’re here?”
She pictured him frantic with worry, searching the hunting ground as dawn brightened. She did not like the idea of causing him grief.
The princess smiled faintly, as if she read the worry in Dongfang Yi’s face. She set the tray on the table. “Qi’er is fortunate to have such a wife. Even out here in the wilds, I can be at ease,” she said. “Don’t be anxious, Your Majesty. After you’ve eaten, I will go to the royal party and tell them exactly where you are.”
Her words made Dongfang Yi flush with an awkward pride. Since becoming empress she had rarely received praise from elders; a compliment from an aunt of the imperial family felt like rare sunlight.
They ate, and the conversation turned to the little that needed explaining. The cottage sat deep in the hunting forest — a prohibited tract, forbidden to trespassers. Long ago, during the days of the old court, some piece of it had been quietly granted to the Princess and her son. That son was the boy at her side: Si Lanyi, the child of the princess and the western realm’s crown prince.
After they moved to this hidden corner, the princess had cut all ties with the world. They became nearly invisible, their whereabouts a secret. The princess, scarred by whatever life had done to her, had simply chosen to stay, content with the seclusion and with the companionship of her son.
It turned out the rabbit Dongfang Yi had aimed for belonged to their household; the animal had slipped free and led to their first meeting.
Once the tale had been laid out, the princess prepared to ride out and find the emperor to explain everything. Dongfang Yi and Helian Rong would remain to rest and recover; they were not yet fully healed.
“Good thing the Empress acted quickly,” Uncle Liu, who had tended their wounds, said when he came in. “She pressed the gall of the venomous beast over the bite. That countered the poison and bought time. If she hadn’t…” He left the dread unsaid.
Helian Rong’s gratitude was immediate and fierce. He bowed before her as if before his savior. “My life is yours, Your Majesty,” he said, voice steady with conviction. “From this day forth, if ever you need me, I would give my all.”
Dongfang Yi felt suddenly uncomfortable under such solemn praise. If she hadn’t chased a white fox into that pit in the first place, he would not have been dragged down with her. He had been hurt because of her recklessness. She had only done what she must; it was not the kind of thing to demand such life debts.
Blushing, she helped him to his feet. “This was my fault,” she said plainly. “You were unlucky to suffer for it. That’s gratitude enough — you’re alive, and that’s what matters. No one owes anyone a life here.”
Helian Rong frowned at her frankness for a moment, then the corner of his mouth lifted in a small, rueful smile. He admired her for being clear-eyed about right and wrong. “Then let us be even,” he said. “No debts between us.”
She nodded, satisfied.
The princess finished her preparations, and before she left she had the soldiers detain Consort Chu, who had been kneeling in one of the tents. Then she declared the hunt over and, with company in tow — Ru Yi, Donghua and others — she rode back into the deeper trees to find the emperor.
Hidden in the shadows beyond earshot, however, two women ground their teeth as they watched the departure. Yao Ji and Lianpin had not expected the empress to survive such a fall, much less to be plucked from a pit full of snakes and saved by a noble. Whether it was fate or fortune, the sight made their jealousy thicken into a darker thing. Their hatred of her deepened.