I thought for a moment. Yes, I did remember it, but not in much detail. I remembered that he held me, covering me with his cloak, but why was he asking this question now?
"I don't remember much," I said slowly. "Why?"
"Do you remember what I said? Everything?" His tone was uneasy, almost hesitant.
"You said you were sorry for taking so much time to find me—"
"And… then?"
"I passed out," I admitted. "If you said something afterward, I didn't hear it. My apologies—"
"No, there's no need to apologize. It's fine." He laughed nervously, though the sound carried no humor.
I frowned. What could he have said that made him so adamant about knowing if I remembered? But before I could ask, another question rose in my mind.
"How did you find me, though?" I asked.
"Well," he began, exhaling as though the memory itself exhausted him, "you seemed quite determined to reach your destination, according to Bao Qin. That left only a few possible places, Gao Ming's residence, the post office where you deliver letters, or that man named Yixuan you once asked me about."
He paused briefly before continuing. "I searched all of them and finally reached the east wing. The servants there lied at first when I asked if they'd seen you. But eventually, one of them confessed. I checked Yixuan's workstation, but you weren't there. Luckily, I didn't stop. I insisted on searching the storehouses, and that's where I found the men responsible… and you."
I listened intently, until Yixuan's name came up. Then my mind drifted.
"Yixuan! What happened to him?" I asked, suddenly alert. "Was he part of this… all this human trafficking?"
"Yes," Renshu said with a sigh. "He was. Why were you looking for him? Tell me, I need to know."
His insistence told me there was no avoiding the truth.
"Yixuan is the brother of Yichen," I said quietly, "the little boy from the mansion I used to stay in. He abandoned Yichen and went to work in the palace. He did manage to leave him in safe hands, but… yes."
"I see," Renshu murmured. "So you went to contact him because of Yichen?"
"Yes."
"If that's the case, then why did he kidnap you? Did he not know who you were?"
"Oh, he knew," I said bitterly. "He just didn't care."
Our questions had been answered, or at least, all that could be. We both fell silent. There was nothing else to say.
The room around me was quiet, filled only with the faint rustle of curtains moving in the breeze. It was a fine room, I couldn't deny that.
After spending days trapped in that cold, foul-smelling storehouse, it felt almost unreal to lie on a clean bed. But how long had I been there? Two days, perhaps?
"How long did it take for you to find me?" I asked.
"Five days and four nights," he replied. "I found you at midday. Why?"
"What?!" The word burst from me before I could restrain it. "I've been there that long? I barely had food or water—how am I even alive—"
"The doctor believes they force-fed you water while you were unconscious," Renshu explained, his voice turning grim. "You kept slipping in and out of consciousness, which drained all your energy. It's a miracle you survived. Most people would have weakened to death after that kind of head injury at the worksite."
I stared at him, unable to process the weight of his words. Five whole days… that long? No wonder I felt so weak. My body was a hollow shell, and yet I still thought I should've done something, anything, to escape. Even if a normal person couldn't have survived, I should have.
"Rest," Renshu said softly, patting my shoulder. "You have a long recovery ahead. The doctor says it will take at least two months before you can walk properly. Colonel Gao Ming has given you four months of rest before you resume work."
"So I'll be stuck here for the next few months?" I asked, disappointment slipping into my tone. The thought of being confined again—it was unbearable.
"Yes." He laughed lightly. "Consider it a fitting punishment for running off like that. You've done it twice already, once staying at Gao Ming's place till late night, and then again going to Yixuan's when you knew you'd be targeted. Not to mention all the times you wandered off during your work as a maid."
He looked almost proud listing them out.
"It's suffocating, staying in one place like this." I replied.
"Well, it's safe," he countered, a faint smile on his lips. "You should have learned that by now. Recklessness isn't bravery."
He turned to leave after that little lecture, clearly satisfied with himself.
And though I wanted to retort, I didn't. Because, he was right. I was reckless, it was simply a part of who I was. And no matter how much I tried, I doubted I could change it. Though perhaps I didn't really want to.
I lay back on the bed, pushing the empty bowl and utensils to the bedside table. My arms and legs felt numb, and even the soft brush of the blanket stung against my skin.
But it was warm—comfortably, blessedly warm. For once, I could rest without fear. Perhaps the accusations of me being a spy would finally fade away now.
Closing my eyes, I caught the faint aroma of food drifting through the corridor. It made me nauseous. My body wasn't ready to eat yet—not after days of forced starvation.
The bed beneath me was soft, far softer than my own. Renshu was lucky to live in such comfort. Though I did wonder why I was placed in his room instead of my own.
A cool breeze slipped through the half-open window beside me. Winter breeze, I thought. The season was approaching again—the same season when I first entered the Forbidden Palace.
Alone.
In a few months, it would be an entire year since then. A year away from Lianyu, Ariyan, and Yichen.
How would I ever tell Yichen about his brother, about Yixuan's betrayal? The boy would be heartbroken.
So much had happened in a single year. Leaving the mansion. Entering the rear palace. Meeting Shuyin. Enduring Wei Fang's tests. Working as the Chief Strategist.
Even Jinmei's ghost, Renshu's temper, the quiet moments that felt almost human amid the chaos.
Not all of it was good, but it was still life. And that should have been enough reason for me to keep living. For me not to give in to despair. To stay alive and experience it again.
As those thoughts drifted through my tired mind, so did my exhaustion. Slowly, quietly, I sank into a long, awaiting sleep.