There were eight days left until they could return to the capital.
The sky gradually darkened, but the snowfall was light tonight, so Jiang Shouzhu ordered a half-hour rest before continuing the march through the night.
With the New Year approaching, the soldiers also wanted to return home before the Spring Festival to reunite with their husbands and children.
Candles were lit inside the carriage, and Jiang Shouzhu absent-mindedly drank tea while Ying Wutu still curled up in the corner like a lifeless rag doll.
A discarded rag doll because he was in such a pitiful state.
Jiang Shouzhu sipped her tea and teased him, “Can you sing a little tune?”
How could Ying Wutu know how to sing such things? He shook his head.
“Boring.” Jiang Shouzhu complained, but did not raise her hand against him again.
A day passed, and she saw that the little rabbit’s facial and body wounds had healed considerably. He no longer had a fever. She reckoned that by the time they returned to the capital, she should be able to enjoy him.
What anticipation.
But… the slap from the night before last was too hard, leaving a deep mark on the little rabbit’s cheek, greatly affecting his appearance.
Jiang Shouzhu genuinely hoped the little rabbit would recover soon.
Ying Wutu’s shoulders shrank, and he lowered his head further.
He had refused the wicked woman earlier, yet she didn’t get angry or hit him.
Truly unpredictable.
However, he had no time to ponder the wicked woman’s temper because he was in trouble.
Since the afternoon, Ying Wutu had felt a dull pain in his lower abdomen. At first, he thought it was the result of the wicked woman’s kick, but by evening, the pain grew stronger.
It wasn’t until just now, when he spoke to the wicked woman, that he realized the problem.
His period had started.
It had actually been four years since his last period.
In the barracks, he had been taking a drug called “Ci Wan” regularly. This drug could be used by both men and women—for women to treat frigidity, and for men, it prevented menstruation and pregnancy.
Of course, Ying Wutu took it to avoid menstruation, which helped conceal his identity as a man.
However, the drug had strong side effects, potentially affecting fertility in men if used long-term.
Moreover, the drug had to be taken daily. If a man missed it for more than three days, his period would start.
Since being captured, his life had been tormented to the brink, and he had long forgotten about taking the pills. Without the medication, he began bleeding and only then remembered the issue.
As a child, Ying Wutu always experienced abdominal pain during his periods, and his father would scold him for being useless. The familiar pain returned now.
Moreover, he had nothing on hand.
He was both in pain and disheveled, with cold sweat covering his forehead and his face turning pale, making the purple handprint on his right cheek even more startling.
“Why are you shaking?” Jiang Shouzhu, unable to sleep, sat in the carriage resting with her eyes closed. She noticed the carriage shaking, looked around, and saw the source was the person in the corner. She glanced at the charcoal brazier—its fire still burning—and found the carriage warm enough.
“Nothing…” Ying Wutu replied softly, his hand clutching his lower abdomen, enduring the excruciating pain.
“Then why are you shaking?” Jiang Shouzhu saw him clutching his stomach, recalling her kick that caused his stomach to bleed. Her initially harsh tone softened a bit as she asked, “Stomachache?”
Ying Wutu looked up, cautiously observing her expression. Seeing no signs of impending violence, he nodded slightly.
“That’s your own fault. If you hadn’t bared your teeth at me, would I have kicked you?” Jiang Shouzhu scolded him but poured a cup of hot tea, placing it on the carriage floor. After a moment’s thought, she pushed the cup forward, saying, “Drink some hot water.”
Ying Wutu’s eyes filled with tears. Trembling, he reached for the cup. His lips quivered from the pain as he carefully sipped the hot tea.
The boiling tea soothed his stomach pain slightly.
But only slightly.
“Feeling better now?” Jiang Shouzhu asked, then noticed, “Why are you crying again?”
Ying Wutu quickly shook his head. He was moved, as this was his most vulnerable moment. As a child, when he had abdominal pain, he couldn’t even get hot water to drink. His father despised him, calling him useless, and wouldn’t allow him to waste firewood to boil water. Later, he only got to drink hot water by pretending to be his sister and hiding his pain.
But he wouldn’t say he was crying out of gratitude, nor did he want the wicked woman to know his situation.
“Cry if you want, but don’t make a sound to bother me.” Jiang Shouzhu didn’t bother guessing his thoughts. Men’s minds were the hardest to read, and she didn’t need to know the little rabbit’s mind, as long as he remained her toy.
“Thank you.” Ying Wutu finished the hot water, feeling a little better despite still being in pain. He placed the cup on the floor beside him and said softly.
A favor for a favor.
Even though the wicked woman was his enemy, tormenting and humiliating him, he still needed to thank her for this kindness.
“Oh?” Jiang Shouzhu thought she misheard and asked with a smile, “What did you say?”
“I said thank you for giving me hot water,” Ying Wutu said, pressing his lips into a thin line.
“Just with words?” Jiang Shouzhu teased him.
“Hmm…” Ying Wutu knew the wicked woman wasn’t that kind-hearted. The bit of goodwill he felt for her dissipated. “How do you want me to thank you?”
“Sing me a little tune,” Jiang Shouzhu said.
Ying Wutu replied with difficulty, “I really can’t.”
“Then you don’t really want to thank me,” Jiang Shouzhu continued to make things difficult for him.
“I…” Ying Wutu was at a loss for words. Born tone-deaf, he had been disguising himself as a girl from a young age and never learned the skills to please a wife. “I truly thank you.”
His tone was sincere, as if his wounds no longer hurt, and he forgot his situation, focusing only on explaining himself and showing loyalty.
“Your Prince knows how to sing, so let him teach you, and then you can sing for me.” Jiang Shouzhu noticed the little rabbit was unusually obedient today. Had he changed?
Ying Wutu’s hope rose again, thinking she might get angry and beat him, but she unexpectedly gave him a chance…
He wondered if he could push his luck a little further.
So he tried to negotiate: “I’ll learn from the Fifth Highness. But for now, can I move that brazier next to me?”
He pointed to the brazier.
The brazier with burning coals was originally by her feet.
“Why? Are you cold?” Jiang Shouzhu asked, finding it strange since the carriage wasn’t cold.
“Yes,” Ying Wutu replied, seeing that she might actually agree.
“Such trouble. Move it yourself.” Jiang Shouzhu complained but agreed.
The carriage was small, and the brazier could be placed anywhere.
Ying Wutu, feeling as though he received a heavenly blessing, stretched out his arm to reach the brazier, carefully pushing it inch by inch toward himself…
Jiang Shouzhu watched his cautious movements, not understanding why he was so cold. She suddenly changed her tone, warning, “Are you planning something again?”
After all, Ying Wutu had been stripped of weapons and chained, with limited mobility and strength. Could he be focusing on the burning coals?
Just as Ying Wutu began to feel the heat, her suspicion made him quickly explain, “No, I just… want to warm up a bit.” He spoke with a sobbing tone, “Please don’t hit me. I’m not planning anything, really…”
This time, he was truly wronged. Even if he wanted to cause trouble, it wouldn’t be now when his abdominal pain was unbearable.
Jiang Shouzhu didn’t believe him but wasn’t in the mood to punish him. She opened the carriage door and gestured to Deputy General Yan, riding beside the carriage, saying, “Bring that thing here, and get two more of those.”
Ying Wutu, hearing this, shrank into a ball in fear.
What was the wicked woman ordering her subordinates to fetch?
What new instrument of torture was it this time?
He heard hoofbeats outside the carriage, indicating that the deputy general had gone to fetch something. Already in pain, and now facing more torment from the wicked woman, he blamed himself for pushing his luck. Having hot water should have been enough; why did he have to negotiate with the wicked woman?
Now he was going to suffer for it.
He was already in enough pain and really didn’t want to be tormented anymore.
He continued to plead, “I just want to be warm… I’m not planning anything… Please don’t hit me anymore…”
His abdominal pain worsened.
Jiang Shouzhu ignored his pleas.
Soon, the sound of urgent hoofbeats outside signaled the return of Deputy Yan with the items.
