89 - Divine Mastering Dragon System

Chapter 89: The Illusion (Part 2) Shen Ming Ke's mother looked pale and troubled, a deep worry etched on her face, untouched food sitting before her. Her grandmother sat with a solemn expression, silently turning the prayer beads in her hand. Both women were dressed in plain, understated robes. Shen Ming Ke sat quietly at the table. Seeing neither her mother nor grandmother reacting, she quietly picked up her chopsticks. As she lifted a piece of purple squash, her wrist was struck harshly by a bamboo board. She flinched, dropping the chopsticks onto the table. “Pick up your chopsticks.” Her mother instructed. Though still young, her sharp and thin face bore a severe, joyless demeanor, her colorless, thin lips pressed tightly together. Her grandmother slowly set down the bamboo board used for instilling manners without saying a word. Shen Ming Ke had been reprimanded this way many times before. “You might be a queen one day, and you must always remember to maintain your decorum.” “No food after midday.” “Eat no more than three bites.” ... Yet hunger was not so easily quelled. Shen Ming Ke had always been an energetic, healthy child, with a robust appetite. However, neither her mother nor her grandmother had ever appreciated these qualities. Especially since she had grown quite fast over the years, her grandmother had someone modify her bed, making it difficult for her to stretch her legs. Every night, she slept curled up, sometimes waking abruptly from the pain of hitting her hands and feet against the wooden bed boards in her sleep. It seemed that this would mould her into a delicate, desirable young lady. Thankfully, Shen Ming Ke had never gained much weight, something her grandmother attributed to her own credit. At nine years old, Shen Ming Ke looked like a tiny bird beaten down by rain, her timid eyes quivering. All her hardships began two years ago, on the day she accompanied her mother to the palace for an audience. Her cousin, clad in regal yellow dragon-emblazoned attire, coldly and critically appraised her, saying, “Too fat.” All her mother’s dreams and fears seemed shattered by those two haughty words from a fourteen-year-old boy who she once cherished as a replacement for her prematurely deceased son. Her name, too—Shen Ming Ke—was borrowed from the light of others. Her late brother, who had died while still an infant, cast a large shadow over her, binding her to a name she could never truly embody or a position she would never attain. The last time she saw her father was in the capital. She had sneaked out of the embroidery workshop and curled up by the mansion gate to wait for him. Upon hearing the distant sound of jade ornaments from his horse's bridle, the girl, sensitive to sound, lifted her head like a pup. The man dismounted, still in his bright red military uniform, with the jade on his belt reflecting a soft, warm light in the sun. She had embarrassed her mother at the royal audience. The woman who had so gently held her hand on the way in had emerged from the palace looking ashen and dazed, as if her dream had been abruptly shattered. At seven, Shen Ming Ke was a small, round child. Had she been a boy destined to follow in her father’s footsteps as a general, her appetite and energy might have been seen as blessings. But as a girl meant to marry her imperial cousin and become a queen, her lively spirit and bold demeanor were deemed disastrous. Shen Ming Ke was like clay, shaped according to her mother’s whims. Realizing her daughter could never truly replace her son, she set about molding her into what society expected: a girl skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, painting, tea art, and embroidery. Shen Ming Ke bore it all in silence. At nine, she glimpsed her potential beauty, knowing that under her mother’s and grandmother’s tutelage, she would grow into a frail, delicate beauty. And if she couldn’t marry her imperial cousin, she would likely wed some official, perpetuating all that her mother and grandmother had invested in her. This was the last meal she shared with her mother and grandmother. At the moment of her mother’s scolding, panicked maids burst into the room, followed by several squads of soldiers. Her father, marching south, paid no heed to the capture; family lives weighed lightly against a dynasty’s rise or fall. By the time her father was executed in defeat, Shen Ming Ke had spent a year in a dark, sunless cell, growing quieter and thinner. At ten, Shen Ming Ke became a prisoner on death row. Her mother, facing an attempted assault by the jailer, chose to die by colliding with the wall, leaving her daughter to weep silently in the opposite cell. Such tragic loyalty—would stories of her valor be sung in the future? Shen Ming Ke didn’t know. She only knew that the jailer, eager to distance himself from the incident, stayed away for several days. Her mother’s ruptured head attracted rats and insects, gradually emitting a foul stench not far from her. The government quelled the rebellion, executing traitors publicly, sentencing men over sixteen to death, and enslaving women. Noble women were sent to the military for humiliation, so many attempted suicide along the way to preserve their family honor. A cunning young emperor, one she once called cousin, and nearly betrothed to in her youth, now looked down at her with cold eyes, consigning these innocent women to fates worse than death. Among women treated like nothing more than livestock, though anticipating her grim path, Shen Ming Ke remained eerily calm. Her kinsfolk, weeping and whispering, defamed her father, pondering if this criminal’s daughter were mad or foolish. Her father having once defended the North, their captors now transported them to the southern frontier. Passing through Jiangnan, the convoy of soldiers rowed through lake waters on the outskirts of a town. Cries of lament rose and fell, while Shen Ming Ke, kept isolated, remained distant from her kin. Freed from the starvation of the dungeon, she looked healthier. One of her cousin sisters, pulling her hair and hurling insults, accused the girl of indecent exchanges with the guards. The wooden girl offered no resistance, leaving a trail of blood down her cheek where a lock of hair had been torn away. Her cousin sister, once someone who brought her desserts in secret, held the torn hair aghast, her tearful sobs more genuine than her outburst suggested. But the guards, fearing for Shen Ming Ke’s life from her relatives, kept her apart from the others as they crossed the lake. Through the gaps in the hull, Shen Ming Ke gazed at the receding town. Turning back, she noticed the boatman kneeling before her. A man, lined with age but resolute in expression, clasped his hands in salute, “This humble one served as a guard to General Shen. Surviving the war by chance, I learned that the tyrant seeks to violate the General’s daughter after his death. I've come, risking my life, to aid Miss Shen.” As he spoke, he offered her a dagger. Shen Ming Ke eyed the gleaming blade but recalled her mother’s decaying corpse and her beautiful face marred by vermin. She gently shook her head, “But I do not wish to die.” The man frowned, lamenting, “Miss, you are young; you don’t understand. Life for a woman enslaved to the military is worse than death.” Her expression cold, Shen Ming Ke tilted her head, “Were you one of my father’s soldiers? Surely you did not violate captive women in the camps. If everyone were like you, why is it worse than death?” Her innocent question pierced sharply. The man, indignant and uneasy, corrected his posture, “I am here to aid you, Miss. Why must you speak so harshly?” “But we’re currently on the lake,” Shen Ming Ke continued gently. “If I die, you won’t escape either.” Bowing again, he replied firmly, “All my comrades fell on the battlefield. I never intended to cling to life. Boarding the ship today, I had no intention of leaving it alive.” Shen Ming Ke was silent for a moment before asking softly, “Since you disregard life and death, why not rescue me instead of urging me to die?” “Miss, you must understand, a woman’s honor is vital. This decree isn’t aimed at you but at tarnishing the General’s legacy.” He seemed at a loss, fumbling over his words, continuing, “I could try to save you, but the court’s power is immense. Capture is inevitable—yet once caught, my end will be quick, whereas your plight will worsen. Committed suicide then would be harder yet.” Shen Ming Ke replied, “But I don’t intend to die at all.” The man blanched with anger, “You, you...” “Are you here for me or my father’s honor?” she pressed. “For both...” he answered. Quietly, Shen Ming Ke continued, her words now sharp, probing back, “Then what if I refuse to die? You, fearless in danger, won’t even try to save me.” If the man died while attempting to help Shen Ming Ke escape, any further madness from the enraged emperor would be beyond his ability to prevent; however, if she peacefully perished here, the general's reputation would remain untarnished, which was the man's foremost mission. Frustrated by the girl's attitude, the man lashed out angrily, "How could you be so oblivious, Miss Shen? After all the blood and toil General Shen endured, are you really willing to tarnish the century-old honor of the Shen family, leaving behind a legacy of shame?" Shen Ming Ke hesitated, then asked, "If you say so... isn't the tarnishing of our family's honor by consigning women to the military actually my father's doing—" "Enough! Even if you don’t understand the world yet, you must never insult the General!" the man snarled, gritting his teeth, "If you refuse to die willingly, I'll see it through, even if it means more trouble." He was prepared for an honorable murder. With a swift kick, he broke open the ship's flimsy railing, sending the girl plunging into the water, flailing and shouting chaotically. Hearing the commotion, the soldiers rushed over to check, only to dismiss it as the troublesome young princess causing another disturbance. After all, which woman wouldn't care for her own honor? It seemed this young princess, despite her age, was indeed a virtuous and courageous girl. The local boatman, who had gestured at the soldiers from the edge, assured them of his swimming skill and took it upon himself to retrieve the girl. The soldiers, unsuspecting, waved him on indifferently. Floundering in the water, Shen Ming Ke was easily captured by the man who followed her in, grabbing her with the pretense of rescue while actually trying to drown her by holding her head underwater. Unable to breathe, the delicate noble girl lacked the strength to fight back. Her thoughts were muddled, but a clarity surfaced: if she survived, if a future awaited her, she would never again be trapped in such dire circumstances. Flailing desperately, her fingers brushed against something. She seized it and flung it at the man’s face—it turned out to be a floating, rootless waterweed. Taken off guard, he released her for a moment. Instinctively, she swam toward the shore. Her survival instinct or perhaps sheer will enabled her to move clumsily yet effectively, though pursued by the soldiers, none of whom swam well and were hindered by lake weeds. Only when Shen Ming Ke reached the shore did they catch her. Clinging to the stone steps where people washed clothes, this ten-year-old noble girl, deprived of proper nourishment during transit, summoned astonishing strength. Even as soldiers grasped and pulled at her, she refused to let go, her fingers digging into the crevices so fiercely that her nails broke, bleeding profusely yet she still would not release her hold. “Do you choose disgrace over death? Dying swiftly now would be easier for everyone!” The man barked viciously, trying to pry her fingers away. No, she thought, she just didn’t want her life and death dictated by others. Blood from her fingers mixed with the lake water, splashing back onto her face—a taste of iron mingling with rust. Perhaps moved by her tenacity or by a stroke of long-lost fortune, a force pulled both her and the man from the water. "Uh..." Drenched, the girl lay coughing on the long embankment at the shore, spitting out water as she raised her eyes to see white fabric at her side. A strange woman, with a mere finger motion, dispelled the excess moisture from Shen Ming Ke's clothes. The man, intending to approach, turned pale as he and the townsfolk knelt before this earthly incarnation of divinity. The stranger lifted her easily, weighing her as if testing her lightness, wrapping the helpless child protectively in her embrace. Suddenly safe, Shen Ming Ke, entranced, rested her chin on the woman’s shoulder, inhaling the scent of herbs. It was a fragrance she hadn’t encountered since falling from grace over a year ago. The rescued girl showed little joy—partly due to naturally reserved behavior, partly from accumulated fatigue—and leaned wordlessly against the ethereal being. Whether the woman acted on a whim or not, to Shen Ming Ke, this heavenly intervention burned fiercely but kindly. The woman asked her name and where she came from. Shen Ming Ke remained silent. The ethereal woman, equally sparing in speech, stood calmly with her, until, passing a small pond, the vacant-eyed girl fixated on something, reaching out to point at floating waterweed. “What is that?” she inquired. “Rootless duckweed,” the woman replied, “people often call it Huaiye.” “Lovely,” the girl murmured. At that moment, the illusion dissolved, and Huaiye opened her eyes, finding herself in an unfamiliar courtyard. Confused, she rose to look around. The unfamiliar surroundings were puzzling. Huaiye glanced at her hands, rubbing her brow, wondering why she had dreamt of events from years past. Qin Miao and He He lay nearby, sunk in slumber. Perhaps they, too, were drawn into the illusion. Huaiye attempted to wake them, but they made no response. The girl then turned her attention to a nearby building. This room seemed to be some sort of study, its shelves and tables crowded with old, useless jade slips. Huaiye followed a map's directions deeper inside. [The inner room had a wooden rack on which hung a black robe resembling men's attire: the Zhiyun Robe.] The wardrobe was now empty, leaving Huaiye bewildered.