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Chapter 32: Origins
🕑 Added 2025-03-10 12:27:49 +0000 UTCChen Huichun was not a stickler for outdated customs. To a physician, there was no distinction between men and women.
Besides, it was only her feet.
However, Li Qingwu had been raised with the belief that a woman's feet should only be seen by her future husband and should never be exposed so easily.
What’s more, she knew that Qiu Che did not seem to like bound feet.
Because of that, even though she had long since come to accept the sight of her own bound feet, Li Qingwu found herself starting to resent them.
She feared seeing the look of disgust in Qiu Che’s eyes, and she certainly did not want to expose her deformity to others.
Even though she had prepared herself mentally, when she was just about to remove her shoes and socks at the bedside, she hesitated. She turned her head to look at Qiu Che beside her.
Qiu Che’s gaze lingered on her feet for a moment before shifting upward to meet her eyes, as if puzzled as to why she had stopped.
Li Qingwu parted her lips slightly and murmured, "Turn away."
Qiu Che: "...Hm?"
Li Qingwu pressed her lips together. "Don’t look at me."
Avoiding Qiu Che’s confused gaze, she lowered her head with some embarrassment and whispered, "Ugly."
Qiu Che was silent for a moment. Seeing her sitting there stiffly, she finally turned her head away under Chen Huichun’s complicated gaze.
She heard Chen Huichun ask, "Your Highness, at what age did you begin foot binding?"
Li Qingwu replied softly, "Six."
Six years old.
Qiu Che suddenly recalled that this was the year after Li Qingwu had been taken out of the Cold Palace.
Chen Huichun simply nodded. "I see." He said nothing more.
A short while later, he stood up, stroking his beard. "It’s done."
Qiu Che still had her back turned to them and did not move. She even politely asked, "May I turn around now?"
Li Qingwu had already put her shoes and socks back on. Realizing that Qiu Che was asking her, she quickly answered, "...You may."
When Qiu Che turned back, she saw that Li Qingwu was once again properly dressed, sitting at the edge of the bed with her hands folded neatly in her lap, maintaining her usual dignified posture.
She looked at Chen Huichun. "Well? Can it be treated?"
Chen Huichun pondered. "To be honest, throughout history, no one has ever managed to restore broken foot bones to their original state... However, in my opinion, it may not be entirely impossible."
Qiu Che gestured for him to sit and asked, "What do you mean?"
Instead, Chen Huichun countered, "Are you both certain that you wish to proceed with treatment?"
Qiu Che and Li Qingwu exchanged glances. Seeing her remain silent, Qiu Che turned back and said, "If it can be cured, that would be best."
"I have two possible methods," Chen Huichun said slowly. "The first involves me personally resetting the bones through surgery. This will require acupuncture treatment for several months afterward. During that time, she must not get out of bed or the entire procedure will be in vain."
"Will it definitely work?"
"That’s what I need to clarify," Chen Huichun sighed. "This method has never been attempted before, so I cannot guarantee success. Moreover... there is an eighty to ninety percent chance of failure."
"And if it fails?"
"...Permanent disability. She will never stand again."
Qiu Che immediately said, "What’s the second option?"
"The second is even more difficult," Chen Huichun gave a bitter smile. "The Southern Yi—yes, that place again."
"There is an old book in the Southern Yi that records many strange occurrences. One of them mentions an herb called Tengshou Grass. It is said that if used correctly, it can heal even broken bones and bring flesh back to life... But no one knows if it's real."
"That book is also where I first read about Gu Qing Pass. I originally thought it was just a legend, but since Gu Qing Pass truly exists, perhaps Tengshou Grass is real as well."
The room fell silent for a moment before Qiu Che asked, "Where can Tengshou Grass be found?"
"Upon entering the Southern Yi, one must pass through a dense forest filled with miasma. However, the region is also rich in rare herbs. Many Southern Yi locals familiar with the terrain venture into the forest to gather medicine," Chen Huichun mused. "I believe that is the most likely place to find Tengshou Grass."
"But only the Southern Yi people can navigate the forest without being affected by the miasma. Many outsiders who enter never return."
"Many?" Qiu Che caught onto the word. "So, some have survived?"
"Yes," Chen Huichun hesitated. "But the few who made it out reportedly lost all memory of their names and past, left in a daze for the rest of their lives."
Qiu Che fell silent, deep in thought.
Li Qingwu tugged at the corner of her lips and spoke first. "Gu Qing Pass has not been confirmed to be a type of poison, and we are only speculating... That means Tengshou Grass may not even exist. And the journey is extremely dangerous... Perhaps we should try the first method instead."
"No." Qiu Che immediately rejected the idea. "If it fails, you will never stand again."
"But there is still a ten to twenty percent chance it will work," Li Qingwu said softly. "And Doctor Chen is highly skilled. I trust him."
Chen Huichun quickly waved his hands. "Your Highness flatters me."
Qiu Che’s expression remained unchanged. "Are you willing to gamble your entire future on this?"
Li Qingwu’s eyes flickered, but she remained silent.
Yet Qiu Che could clearly see her thinking, It’s not impossible.
She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling helpless. "Have you thought it through? If you fail, you will spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair."
Li Qingwu was silent for a long while before murmuring, "I just don’t want you to worry too much. If I don’t get treated, it’s fine."
After all, she had already grown used to it.
Used to the inconvenience of walking, used to the pain and deformity, used to everything that footbinding had brought her.
"If every bound-foot woman requires something as rare as Tengshou Grass to be cured," Li Qingwu looked up and said softly, "then perhaps we should attempt the surgery on me first—"
"After all, Tengshou Grass is rare and likely impossible to bring back to Daxia. Even if we find it, even if we manage to transport it, how many can it truly cure? It would be a waste of time and effort."
Qiu Che rubbed the jade pendant at her waist but said nothing.
She neither agree nor disagree. However, that very night, the servants of the princess’s residence and a group of elite soldiers in Yeming City all received the same order: search for Tengshou Grass in the Southern Yi.
Li Qingwu was exceptionally intelligent. Just like learning embroidery or chess, she grasped things with ease. Teaching her was effortless for Qiu Che.
In less than ten days, she had already caught up with Qiu Che’s train of thought during discussions.
However, today, as Li Qingwu listened to her speak eloquently, she found herself momentarily distracted.
When Qiu Che finished, Li Qingwu suddenly asked, “Did you also teach Yu Ming?”
“No,” Qiu Che glanced at her in surprise. “I’m not that free. They all learned on their own. As for literature and martial arts, I hired tutors for them.”
But Li Qingwu’s status was different. Inviting tutors into the residence would inevitably attract the emperor’s attention.
Now that Li Qingwu had left the palace, she preferred to stay out of the emperor’s sight. With that in mind, Qiu Che intended to cultivate her as a hidden asset and thus chose to personally mentor her.
“Why do you ask all of a sudden?”
Li Qingwu paused briefly, then smiled. “It’s nothing. Go on—what about the Prime Minister?”
“The Prime Minister and Prince Zhao were both pillars of support for the late emperor.”
One was a civil official, the other a military general. Together with the late emperor, they established this dynasty.
But after the emperor’s passing, the Empress Dowager fell from power. Prince Zhao, who had been closely aligned with her, was implicated, exiled to Lingbei, and had not returned in three years.
Prince Zhao and Wu Xiang had known each other since their youth, their bond as close as brothers. Yet after the coup, they parted ways, never to cross paths again.
Rumors about these two influential figures were abundant, but no consensus was ever reached.
However, it was said that the proposal to exile Prince Zhao came from Wu Rusheng himself, who personally advised the emperor on the matter.
“Prince Zhao is a cautious man. He has kept a low profile in Lingbei, never causing any disturbances,” Qiu Che explained. “Three years ago, he managed to escape unscathed from the coup because there was no evidence linking him to the Empress Dowager. That was the only reason he was spared.”
“Did he actually align with the Empress Dowager?”
Li Qingwu knew that Qiu Che had formed a temporary alliance with the Empress Dowager, but she wasn’t sure if Qiu Che had access to such insider information.
Qiu Che met her gaze and answered, “No.”
“When the Great Xia Dynasty was founded, these two officials swore allegiance to the emperor alone.”
The implication was clear.
Yet the current emperor obviously did not trust such oaths.
He had not only exiled Prince Zhao but continued to be wary of Wu Xiang’s growing power.
Setting aside Wu Rusheng for now, Prince Zhao had dedicated his life to military service, remaining loyal, only to be exiled to the bitter cold of Lingbei for three years. Who wouldn’t see it as unjust?
But throughout history, ‘Once the birds are gone, the good bow is put away. Once the cunning rabbit is dead, the hunting dog is cooked.’ This had become an unspoken rule.
The imperial family was the most ruthless of all.
“For three years in Lingbei, Prince Zhao has kept his sharp edges hidden, steering clear of politics to avoid the emperor’s suspicions. Yet, among his three sons, there was Yang Qiu.”
Qiu Che chuckled. “A man of exceptional talent, brimming with ambition, unwilling to be trapped in Lingbei. A year ago, at your coming-of-age ceremony, he used the excuse of presenting a gift to enter the capital, but his true purpose was to take the imperial examination. Before long, Prince Zhao’s men dragged him back, he probably didn’t even have time to prepare a proper gift.”
Li Qingwu nodded. “He painted something on the spot.”
That very painting later spread throughout the capital—the famous ‘Beauty Holding a Fan.’
As she spoke, Li Qingwu slowly blinked, discreetly observing Qiu Che’s expression.
Qiu Che didn’t seem to notice her gaze. Instead, she suddenly looked up and asked, “By the way, do you still have that painting?”
Li Qingwu was momentarily startled by her sudden attention, her lashes fluttering slightly. “Yes.”
It was among her dowries.
The emperor had once proudly displayed it at the palace gates for a month, allowing the public to admire it. Many attempted to recreate it, yet none could capture its essence.
Qiu Che’s interest was piqued. “Can I take a look?”
She had been curious about that painting for a long time.
Li Qingwu hesitated for a moment before standing up. “Follow me.”
The study in the princess’s residence was now half Qiu Che’s and half Li Qingwu’s.
The two often sat across from each other, one reviewing ledgers, the other drafting memorials—an oddly peaceful coexistence.
In one corner, Li Qingwu had a large chest with a heavy lock.
Qiu Che had always been curious about its contents, but out of respect, she never asked.
This time, Li Qingwu had Fuling bring the key and opened the chest in front of her.
To her surprise, it contained only trinkets, lanterns, rattles, chess boards, peace amulets, old keepsakes that seemed to have been treasured for years.
Even the wooden carvings Qiu Che had gifted her days ago were inside, neatly locked away.
The painting lay on top.
Li Qingwu picked it up and handed it to her. “Here it is.”
Qiu Che unrolled it, examined it for a moment, raised an eyebrow, then swiftly rolled it back up.
Li Qingwu took it back, lowering her gaze. “It’s really nothing special.”
“It really isn’t,” Qiu Che remarked. “It feels… empty, like it’s missing something.”
She sighed, somewhat disappointed, then added, “It’s not as beautiful as the real person.”
Li Qingwu’s downcast eyes twitched slightly.
She glanced at Qiu Che, who was still smiling casually, as if it was just an offhand remark.
Her sharp brows and handsome features carried an undeniable charm.
As she placed the painting back into the chest, she distinctly heard the sound of her own heartbeat.
As she locked the chest again, Qiu Che’s gaze momentarily lingered on a lantern in the corner.
Li Qingwu’s heart skipped a beat.
But Qiu Che only looked at it briefly before averting her gaze.
Li Qingwu exhaled silently, as if awakening from a dream.
She thought: Qiu Che didn’t recognize it.
She wasn’t sure if she felt relief or disappointment.
Qiu Che’s expression remained unchanged. Once Fuling left with the key, she suddenly asked, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“What is it?”
“That day when you were poisoned, where was Fu Feng?”
Li Qingwu pondered. “…Fu Feng wasn’t my personal guard back then. He merely helped me from time to time because of Fuling. That day, he happened to be on a mission.”
Qiu Che’s tone was ambiguous. “Just happened to be on a mission that day?”
“I know what you’re implying,” Li Qingwu said calmly but firmly. “But Fu Feng would never betray me. He felt deeply responsible for what happened that day, which is why he requested to become my personal guard.”
Qiu Che hadn’t expected this twist. No wonder Jin Yiwei was constantly by the princess’s side.
She blinked, licked her lips, and hesitated before speaking again. “Is he…?”
Li Qingwu waited, but when Qiu Che didn’t continue, she prompted, “What about him?”
Qiu Che studied her confused expression before swallowing her words, coughing lightly. “Nothing. As long as you trust him, that’s what matters.”
Li Qingwu hummed in acknowledgment.
“You never finished. Yang Qiu came to the capital for the imperial exam. And then?”
“He failed.”
But with his strength alone, he could not shake the towering trees of the aristocratic families and the Prime Minister’s authority.
In his past life, he had also proposed reforms, but his approach was from the perspective of social welfare. The Emperor did not take it seriously, and naturally, the reforms never succeeded.
However, in this life, Qiu Che would be his ally.
"Yang Qiu has no backing in the capital. He urgently needs someone to join forces with him to execute his plans swiftly and decisively—and I am the one he has chosen," Qiu Che said lightly. "Is there anything else you don’t understand?"
"He mentioned Prime Minister Wu..." Li Qingwu hesitated slightly. "Does this mean that the Nan Yi people’s entry into the capital, unimpeded along the way, could be due to Prime Minister Wu’s secret involvement...?"
"He only said that the Nan Yi people had past dealings with Prime Minister Wu. He never said anything else," Qiu Che smiled meaningfully. "Is his source reliable? Even if it is, does Prime Minister Wu still have ties with Nan Yi? Is he truly involved in their secret entry into the capital? These are merely our speculations."
More importantly, in Qiu Che’s past life, she had no recollection of such an event occurring.
Perhaps it had happened, but it never caused a significant impact.
At that time, Qiu Che had been a proper and quiet Hanlin Academy scholar, unaware of any rumors.
Li Qingwu nodded but had not yet spoken when someone knocked on the door from outside.
Fu Ling announced, "Your Highness, Consort."
Li Qingwu raised her voice slightly. "What is it?"
"The Duchess is hosting a flower-viewing banquet and has invited the young ladies from various noble families to attend. Your Highness is among those invited."
The Duchess was none other than the Empress’s mother.
The two exchanged a glance before Li Qingwu asked, "When is it?"
"Tomorrow."
Qiu Che vaguely remembered that such a banquet had also taken place in her past life. Seeing Li Qingwu hesitate, she gave her a reassuring look. "Go."
They talked for a while longer before Li Qingwu left the study.
Upon entering her bedroom, Fu Ling glanced around cautiously, then retrieved a small rolled-up message from the leg of a white pigeon near the window and handed it to Li Qingwu.
She sat quietly at the table, reading it for a moment before picking up a brush and writing a few small lines.
Fu Ling carefully rolled the message back up, tied it to the pigeon’s leg, and watched as it flew away. When she turned back, she saw Li Qingwu staring absentmindedly out the window.
She couldn’t help but ask, "Your Highness…"
"Do you truly love the Consort that much?"
Li Qingwu returned to her senses, startled. "What makes you ask that?"
"Before, you insisted on marrying her, and that was one thing. But now, the Empress relayed the Emperor’s decree, asking you to keep an eye on her… yet you keep writing nonsense in your replies. Aren’t you afraid of being reprimanded by His Majesty and Her Majesty?"
Li Qingwu sat still for a long while, her hands resting on her lap. Then, in a low voice, she said, "I just think she was right… I’ve already been married off. In the past, I lived like a shadow, but from now on, my life should be mine to live."
Even if it angered those two, at worst, it would only cost her life.
"You used to be the most cautious, always cherishing your life," Fu Ling frowned. "How did following the Consort make you so reckless?"
"I was careful before only so that I could survive."
Li Qingwu smiled faintly, lowering her gaze to her delicate fingers, though her eyes held a distant look. "Now, I am reckless… also so that I can survive."
Fu Ling was utterly confused and muttered, "Alright, alright. Since she’s the Consort, I suppose I have no say in it. I just don’t know what spell she cast on you to make you so devoted, insisting on marrying her."
"Fu Ling," Li Qingwu lifted her eyes, gazing at her gently. "You are mistaken."
Fu Ling blinked blankly. "Huh?"
"I wanted to marry her back then… but it was for myself."
Li Qingwu spoke softly, "I am not a woman of deep passion. I simply had a certain fondness for her due to some past connection. At that time, my father was considering marrying me off to Prime Minister Wu…"
"Prime Minister Wu?!" Fu Ling gasped, then quickly covered her mouth and lowered her voice in shock. "But doesn’t he have a wife? He’s over fifty! I thought you were to be engaged to his eldest grandson?"
"That was just a rumor to mislead others," Li Qingwu shook her head lazily. "The young master of the Wu family has no power or influence. Prime Minister Wu is the true authority. If my father wanted me married, he would naturally choose the most powerful. He only hinted at it vaguely, likely fearing criticism, so he hesitated."
It just so happened that on the night she deciphered her father’s intentions, she had a dream.
Perhaps the emotions left in the dream were too intense, but the next day, after much deliberation, she requested permission to leave the palace for an outing.
And outside the gates of the Qiu residence, she met her dream’s fated person.
"When the Consort paraded through the streets, I intentionally left the palace," Li Qingwu clenched her skirt tightly. "I gambled that my father would also leave the palace to watch the spectacle."
That way, she could take the opportunity to plead for marriage.
Just like in her dream.
She had won that gamble.
"At first, I thought that marrying her, at least, would mean marrying someone I had a faint liking for. No matter what, it was far better than being a concubine to Prime Minister Wu."
But she hadn’t expected reality to reward her even more.
Fu Ling was still reeling. "Then… what happened after that?"
"After that?" Li Qingwu thought for a moment, then chuckled. "I discovered that she was exactly as I had imagined—someone I could truly appreciate. So, I simply acted accordingly, showing her a bit of affection so she wouldn’t suspect that I still had ties to my father. What harm is there in that?"
There was a measure of sincerity in it as well.
But she had been clear from the moment Qiu Che confessed she was a woman, her initial liking had faded into mere goodwill, nothing more than what one felt for a friend.
The subtle hints of affection she displayed now were merely to keep Qiu Che guessing.
Surviving the imperial palace this long was proof enough, she was no saint.
She lacked many skills, but manipulating people’s hearts? That was her specialty.
Such small schemes, however, were not something Fu Ling needed to know.
"…I see."
Fu Ling suddenly understood.
She had always wondered how her mistress, who had endured so much in the palace, could suddenly become so lovestruck over a penniless scholar.
Meanwhile, just outside the door, Qiu Che leaned against the railing, a blade of grass between her lips, listening to every word.
For the first time in a long while, she let out a breath of relief.
Since learning from the Emperor that Li Qingwu had been the one to propose marriage, she had been skeptical.
Sometimes, she even thought Li Qingwu might actually have feelings for her.
Now, hearing the truth, she felt both slightly annoyed at being toyed with and somewhat reassured.
Still, two questions remained unanswered.
Why had Li Qingwu taken her own life in the past life?
And, what was the connection she had mentioned?
Had they… met before?
