Song Qingchao looked at the pair of exquisite straw sandals.
She then looked at the messy straw mat in her hand.
Comparing oneself to others can be disheartening.
She smiled and raised her head, her face immediately falling when she saw who had arrived.
"What are you doing?"
The man did not speak but sat down beside her.
Song Qingchao cautiously nudged Song Qingmu to move aside.
This man had been monitoring her since the start of the convoy, and she even suspected him of administering the poison.
But she had also asked Mu Mu.
Mu Mu said no.
That bowl of water was exchanged for a jade hairpin from the guards by him, the only one he had brought.
And along the way, they had only encountered a few groups of people.
She had observed these past few days, and besides the daily journey, these people spent their rest time weaving straw mats and looking for food.
Not the slightest bit.
This bowl of poison seemed to have fallen from the sky.
Just as she was wondering why the man had sat next to her, the rattan strip in her hand was snatched away.
"Hey!"
Song Qingchao's eyes widened, but she dared not snatch it back.
She had to hide her strength.
She could not reveal that her body was recovering.
She had to remain the knowledgeable and virtuous, frail young lady who could be brought down by a gust of wind.
And Mu Mu could not overexert himself; he could only be a failed young master of an official family, neither good at scholarly pursuits nor martial arts.
These past few days, they had eaten mixed vegetable dumplings and drunk clear congee.
To maintain their cover, they did not speak much with others.
She and Mu Mu even took turns fainting and endured several more lashes.
"Watch carefully."
Song Qingchao turned her head. The man's voice was not as rough as his appearance; instead, it was calm, with a slightly deep ending, like the steady and powerful strike of bells and drums.
Upon seeing, Song Qingchao was astonished.
His fingers deftly disassembled the tangled mess, then slowed down to hook the rattan strips one by one.
It was not until Song Qingmu nudged her that she came to her senses and picked up a few rattan strips to learn from the man.
The man did not look at her, yet he seemed to know everything, always correcting her fingerwork at the right time when she made a mistake.
By the end of the lunch break, Song Qingchao had finally woven a pair of straw sandals under the man's tutelage.
"Thank you, sir."
"No need. This is to repay you for the half bowl of congee you scattered."
The man got up, picked up his own pair, and left, still without looking at her directly.
Song Qingchao held the shoes in her hand and looked at his retreating figure.
"Such a strange person."
"Eldest Sister, we need to depart."
"Alright." Song Qingchao did not think further, squatting down to put the shoes on Song Qingmu.
"Eldest Sister, you wear them first."
Song Qingchao looked up at him. "Are you serious about stepping back half a pace?"
Song Qingmu turned his head away, his ears turning red. "My shoes are still wearable. As for you, Eldest Sister, the soles are gone."
"I'll weave another one later." Song Qingchao was getting tired from squatting, her tone carrying a hint of coaxing. "Hurry up and extend your foot."
She lowered her voice. "We're acting."
Before she could react, Song Qingmu glanced at her and then flicked his sleeves, stepping back another pace. "Eldest Sister, are you perhaps seeking revenge on me?"
He lowered his head and snatched the shoes. "So crude. Are you trying to injure me?"
With a "slap," Song Qingchao threw the straw sandals onto the ground. "Eldest Sister should wear them herself."
Song Qingchao, squatting on the ground, was stunned.
I told you to act, not to rewrite the script!
But since that was the case, she couldn't ignore her role in his performance.
Immediately, she covered her face and cried softly, "You're still blaming me?"
Song Qingmu scoffed, flicked his sleeves, and walked away. After taking a few steps, he "slapped" down onto the ground.
Song Qingchao was so startled that she forgot to cry.
Song Qingmu, his face red, said, "Aren't you going to help me up quickly?"
Song Qingchao suppressed a smile, put on the straw sandals, and then helped Song Qingmu up.
"My legs are numb..."
"I told you to act, why did you give me the shoes?"
Song Qingmu's face turned even redder. "You wear them."
Song Qingchao wanted to laugh but still maintained a wronged expression, supporting him from the side while fiddling with the rattan strips.
The sun soon set.
The convoy also reached its rest time.
In the afternoon, although Song Qingchao's hands were slow, she became proficient with practice. She had already woven a pair of straw sandals and a straw mat.
It was starting to get cold at night, and they needed to make plans early.
She spread the straw mat on the ground, and the siblings sat on it.
Song Qingchao pulled Song Qingmu's arm to check it.
The sores on his hands had almost healed, truly as Bai You'an had said, they could recover completely.
She then pulled up his trouser leg to look.
The fall at noon was unnatural.
As expected, his legs had also developed sores.
But more serious were the wounds on his ankles, chafed by the chains.
"Don't you feel pain?"
A crack appeared in Song Qingmu's expression. "I didn't notice."
Song Qingchao sighed helplessly. Walking like this every day was making her quite weary.
After applying the medicine, she bit into a vegetable dumpling while looking at the pair of straw sandals she had woven that afternoon.
Then she took out the book from noon.
She wanted to modify it.
No sooner said than done, after some effort, she transformed the holey straw sandals into boots, with added thickness.
Although they looked comical when worn, they would not chafe her skin.
Bai You'an, as usual, sent the medicinal soup.
He glanced at the vegetable dumpling in Song Qingchao's hand and then left.
Song Qingchao shrugged indifferently and then returned to her own great undertaking.
Meanwhile, Song Qingmu sat beside her, looking down at the "Red Book."
During rest times, she would put the items obtained from Bai You'an into her spatial dimension.
As they were timed items, she had to use them cautiously.
She also habitually sensed if there were any letters.
As long as they were her belongings, she could retrieve them regardless of the distance.
Indeed, there was one.
She put down the rattan strips she was weaving and took out the letter to read.
It was a small slip of paper, palm-sized, making it difficult to be discovered.
Initially, she was happy to have learned weaving, but after reading the letter, her expression turned grim.
"What's wrong?"
Song Qingchao shoved the letter into his hand. "Perfect timing, let's test your learning results."
Song Qingmu put down the book. The thick-fingered book had only a few pages left.
"The Wang family is perhaps too hasty."
Song Qingchao smiled and picked up the rattan strips again. "They are too cautious."
"They are unaware of the matter of the map."
"But they want to seize control of the Southern Yi troops." Song Qingchao put the Red Book into her spatial dimension and handed Song Qingmu another grammar book. "You were literate at three and had a photographic memory, while I grew up in the military camp since childhood. If I hadn't fallen ill, my father wouldn't have returned to Chang'an."
Holding a rattan strip, she drew a terrain map on the ground and pointed at the location of Southern Yi. "Prime Minister Wang's second son is guarding the Yan Nan Pass, but he has long coveted this place."
Song Qingmu threw the slip of paper in his hand into the fire in front of them. "The Song family army will not recognize him, which is why we must die."
Song Qingchao nodded. "Therefore, the poison was administered by the Wang family."
"The Wang family wants to marry the Eldest Princess to control her, making it easier for them to deal with us."
"Correct." Song Qingchao raised an eyebrow. "Ah Zhu and I have outwardly broken off our friendship, but Prime Minister Wang is still unsure if she will intervene on your behalf."
Song Qingmu, who was drinking water, choked directly. His flushed face lost its usual icy demeanor. "Eldest Sister, what nonsense are you talking about."
Song Qingchao tilted her head to look at him. "Childhood sweethearts, who in Chang'an doesn't know?"
Upon seeing this, the smile on her lips froze in place.
In the grass not far from Mu Mu's side, there were a pair of eyes.
Seeing that she had discovered them, they immediately fled.
Song Qingchao wanted to chase, but a refined voice sounded from behind her.
"Miss Song."