Chapter 4 The Same Handwriting
One could not speak. One could not write?
My heart sank. Irritated, I waved her off.
Lan Zhi turned, then stopped. Her eyes fell on the list on my table, and she laughed in scorn.
"They say writing shows the person. Your Ladyship looks refined, so why is the writing as crude as ghost scratches?"
It seemed she knew few characters and took the servants' list for mine.
"Your Ladyship really should see the Crown Prince's writing. When I served the Crown Prince, I saw his notes were neater than a young lady's..."
Lan Zhi seemed pleased and went on about her past with Xiao Yan. My ears only buzzed.
After I sent her off in haste, I went to the Crown Prince's study.
I passed a sand table full of flags and reached the shelves.
The Crown Prince kept many books. Essays on governing, poems and songs, histories and classics, every kind of marketplace tale.
I drew out a book and opened it. One page held a line of regular script in vermilion. The red writing was very delicate...
I took out the note and compared them. They were the same.
Had the Crown Prince written this note?
The Crown Prince, telling me not to tell the Crown Prince I could speak?
How was that possible?
Could it be...
"What are you doing?"
I started. My hand loosened, and the book hit the floor.
Xiao Yan stood behind me, silent as a ghost. I did not know how long he had been staring.
His eyes were like the little figures in a shadow play, black as dots of ink.
Cold sweat crawled on my back like insects. I watched him bend slowly and pick up the book.
"Silver Vase Plum?" He lifted a brow.
I froze. The book I had grabbed was this one.
"Does A Yue want to learn some new moves?" He tapped the book on my head and laughed.
I went along, pretended to be shy, snatched the book back, and left with my head down.
Two steps from the door, the Crown Prince stopped me.
"A Yue, you dropped something." He picked up the note from the floor.
"Don't tell the Crown Prince you can speak?"
His lips curved. Those bright black eyes reflected my terrified face.
My skin prickled. I turned and ran, but pain exploded at the back of my head before I took a step.
My legs gave out. I knelt, clutching my head, twitching. I reached, shaking, for the wound and touched brain, soft and smooth as tofu.
The Crown Prince came closer with the inkstone. Blood mixed with ink dripped from it into my eyes.
"Your Highness..." I opened my mouth to beg, but his lips opened and closed, as if he were saying something to me.
Then he raised the inkstone and brought it down on my head.
Flesh and blood flew and splashed through the air.
At the seventh blow, I finally lost consciousness.