A Pawn, and a Wife...

The gauze wrapping unraveled in the water, and the sediment once again clouded the clear liquid.

Zhou Yao, who had worked all day, felt as if she'd been struck by lightning. The sweltering summer heat hadn't even faded, yet half a day's effort was ruined.

Frozen, she let out a bitter laugh. Whether tears or sweat fell first, she couldn't tell. Chen Yuwen sighed and patted her shoulder in consolation.

Zhou Yao caught the culprit—a dog with wounds, its coat matted with mud, its few clean grey hairs stained into bloody strands.

The border collie, aware of its transgression, lay down listlessly on the ground.

She had to admit—whenever she saw a small animal with dirty, tangled fur and injuries, she couldn't help but soften.

Spotting Duyun waiting outside the door, she instructed him to take the dog back for proper care, while she quietly tidied up and separated the stone from the sand again.

When she looked up, Zhou Yao noticed Chen Yuwen, who had stayed by her side the whole time. He'd said earlier that he needed to return to his residence, yet he'd lingered, delayed because of her.

His lazy brows drew together slightly as he said, "You're not planning to stay the night, are you?"

Zhou Yao mulled it over briefly. There was nothing on the agenda tonight; she might as well fire these porcelain pieces overnight and get a better feel for the craft.

He nodded, and before leaving, seeing Zhou Yao still hard at work, that reluctance to part moved him.

He prepared brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, writing down the complete method for kiln firing, including every detail. When he was done, Chen Yuwen placed the notes where Zhou Yao could see them the moment she turned around, then took his leave.

Shaping the lumps of clay one by one, watching them yield to her whims and take form under her hands, Zhou Yao felt a rare sense of control. After aging and throwing the clay, she let it sit and wait. The cicadas' chorus that summer night seemed the very embodiment of her inner restlessness, grating and incessant.

She placed the half-dried bisque into the kiln for bisque firing. Gathering firewood from the back mountain, rough and sharp splinters cut her fingers, but the solid weight in her palm steadied her heart. She fed the wood into the furnace, coaxing the fire to life bit by bit, until her cheeks burned hot, sweat pouring from her brow, her face, her body—yet she didn't stop.

When everything was finished, she slumped over the table to rest for a while.

"My lord." Duyun's voice came from outside. "The Ninth Prince refuses to let this subordinate assist, and truly..."

Qi Yanhan's lashes flickered slightly, as if he couldn't be bothered to respond, but he still condescended to say, "Return and accept your punishment."

"Yes."

He knew well the difficulty of crafting such pieces, but if Zhou Yao wanted to try, then let her. At most, she was but a pawn the emperor used to restrain him...

Yes, a pawn and nothing more.

Qi Yanhan told himself this inwardly.

The two were separated by a single wall—but what lay between them was more than just distance?

Beneath the veneer of a gentleman lurked a serpent, tongue flickering, coiled in the shadows, waiting to strike.

After the man left, a thin robe of mulberry silk had been draped over Zhou Yao's shoulders.

Once the bisque had taken shape, she trimmed it according to the method Chen Yuwen had left behind. Mixing agate powder, wood ash, feldspar powder, ball clay, and water into a slurry, she dipped the fired bisque into the glaze. The glazed pieces were then briefly baked over the burning firewood, and once done, the excess glaze was trimmed away.

She arranged the glazed porcelain neatly into saggars, stacked them inside the kiln, and sealed the opening.

The final step of firing the porcelain was critical—the quality of the pieces was determined at this stage. Zhou Yao relit the fire in the kiln.

She kept adding wood to raise the temperature, the heat climbing steadily. Ash fell through the ash outlet, and through the peephole atop the kiln she watched the inner temperature, observing the flames shift gradually from red to white.

Zhou Yao kept vigil by the kiln, adding fuel every three hours, until Chen Yuwen finally lifted her from the table, exhausted beyond measure, to open the kiln.

Of the three batches, one side had been overheated and lost its luster, another had been underfired and lacked the jade-like quality—overall, the results were less than satisfactory.

She looked dejectedly at the last stack, then waved a hand, declining to open it.

Meeting Chen Yuwen's gaze, Zhou Yao sighed. "Maybe I'm really not cut out for making porcelain..."

"One failure doesn't mean anything. Go home and rest." He caught sight of the robe fallen to the ground, picked it up, and gave Zhou Yao a look that carried a hint of meaning. "Honestly, for a woman to complete this on her own is already remarkable."

"Go on." Chen Yuwen handed the robe back to Zhou Yao, patting her shoulder in consolation.

Neither of them realized at the time that these trials were merely the beginning.

Day after day, under Chen Yuwen's guidance, Zhou Yao gradually mastered the art of porcelain making. The pieces she produced went from the lowliest cups and bowls to the occasional fine ornamental piece.

Seeing the stacks of finished porcelain Zhou Yao had completed, Chen Yuwen suggested she set up a stall to sell them.

Finding the idea sound, Zhou Yao went to the nearby marketplace to scout a spot and set up her stall.

There were few vendors selling porcelain in the market. Though the styles were ordinary, the prices were exorbitantly high—not something ordinary folk could afford. Such shops did little business here, with most vendors dealing in pottery instead.

Because Zhou Yao's porcelain were practice pieces, and her recent expenses had been modest, the only real costs were the board for the beagle lodging at Qi Manor and the three thousand and eighty copper coins Qi Yanhan had repaid on her behalf, she decided to sell her wares at low prices.

The next morning, as soon as the market opened, Zhou Yao set up her stall. Foot traffic was heavy, but after half an hour, not a single person had stopped at her stand.

Recalling her previous experience selling foreign fruit, Zhou Yao reasoned that the common folk used pottery that cost five to ten coppers, while porcelain ranged from two hundred to several thousand coppers—the gap was enormous, and many would be scared off.

"Porcelain bowls, sixty coppers; porcelain cups, fifty; porcelain goblets, thirty-five! Buy two cups and get one goblet free! Even if you're not buying, come take a look!" Zhou Yao actively hawked her wares, calling out to every passerby.

Though some paused, no one asked or bought.

She carefully examined her finished pieces and pricing, lowering the prices further, which finally drew a few buyers.

Over the following days, the number of customers grew steadily.

Someone knocked twice on her tabletop. "We've received a report that someone in the city is illegally selling porcelain, suspected of malicious competition. Pack up your things and come with us."

She forced a smile. "Officer, sir, you must be mistaken, right? I'm an upstanding, law-abiding citizen! I'm being wronged!"

"Wronged or not, come back to the yamen and we'll see."

Without mercy, the man seized her. A crowd of onlookers gathered, pointing and whispering as they watched.

"Wait—wait!" Before she could finish, Zhou Yao's heart sank. If the magistrate recognized her and reported the matter up the chain, her good days would be over. She did not want to endure the consequences of tarnishing the royal family's reputation again!

Zhou Yao turned her head in pain, but to her surprise, a woman standing in the crowd met her gaze.

That person's eyes darted away. Zhou Yao immediately sensed something was wrong and began to struggle desperately. "Wait! This has to be a malicious report!"

But her captors were too many, and she couldn't break free. She could only watch helplessly as that person disappeared into the crowd before her very eyes...

At the yamen, Zhou Yao was forced to her knees, and when her hands were untied, she felt a sharp ache in her wrists. The moment she looked up, she met the bailiff's gaze.

"The one below the hall, do you know your crime?" A portly commandant of justice sauntered out from behind the screen, his eyes landing on Zhou Yao—and his steps faltered.

"Oh dear!" The commandant quickly grabbed the table to steady himself.

His eyes darted about, then he hurriedly waved his hand and ordered his men, "Release her, and all of you get out."

Once everyone had left, he rushed over to Zhou Yao, hastily untying her bonds and helping her up from the ground.

The commandant offered an apologetic smile. "Your humble servant pays respects to the Ninth Princess. I beg your ladyship's forgiveness. My men here are clumsy and lack discernment—they must have arrested the wrong person, ha ha."

"The person we were looking for was just a small vendor."

Zhou Yao's gaze was fierce. She stood, rubbing her reddened wrists where she'd been yanked, then walked straight to the seat of honor and sat down.

In a calm, unhurried tone, she said, "Commandant Zhao, correct?"

"Yes, yes, that's right."

"By your reasoning, a small vendor can be arrested at will?"

"Uh..." Commandant Zhao stammered, not knowing how to respond.

Zhou Yao casually picked up the token on the table and toyed with it. "Your men didn't arrest the wrong person. I am that small vendor. What do you intend to do about it?"

"With the evidence unclear at present... I must beg your highness to move temporarily to the prison. This matter is of great consequence; please allow your humble servant to report to the emperor before deciding. In due time, your innocence will be proven." Commandant Zhao nervously wiped at a sweat that wasn't there, speaking in a fluster.

"How dare you!" She shot him a warning glare and threatened, "If you tell me who's behind this right now, perhaps I'll spare your life."

"But if you play tricks with me..." Zhou Yao propped her chin on one hand, pausing slightly. "The post of commandant might be a bit too high for you..."

Zhou Yao didn't know who was behind it all. The only thing she knew was that her sale of porcelain had stepped on someone's interests.

So, threatening this fat man was the fastest way to get answers.

"Or else, tomorrow in Chang'an, someone might quietly disappear. And then we'll say they were killed by an escaped convict—how about that?"

Commandant Zhao could no longer stand. With a thud, he dropped to his knees, the fat of his plump body trembling.

"Commandant Zhao, you've been skimming quite a bit of profit, haven't you? Eating until you're stout and round, while the common folk outside..."

She tossed the wooden token at his feet.

On the token was written a single character: death.

Before Zhou Yao even finished speaking, Commandant Zhao broke. He kowtowed frantically, begging for mercy. "Your highness, your highness, spare your humble servant! I'll talk, I'll talk! I'll tell you everything! Your highness, spare my life!"

"I, I had someone come to my residence earlier with gifts, saying it was just a small favor—dealing with a little vendor... I was blinded by greed, your highness!"

—————

When Zhou Yao came out, Qi Yanhan was seated just outside the yamen, looking at her with a half-smile.

"My lady is truly fond of her games. If you wished to do business, you had only to tell your husband. There was no need to trouble Commandant Zhao."

His somewhat gentle gaze shifted to the commandant's greasy face, and in an instant, it changed.

"My wife has suffered such grievance. I'll have to trouble Commandant Zhao with the matter of arresting those who spread false accusations..."

"Yes, yes, yes. Whatever the Prime Minister says, this one will keep in mind."

"Then I'll take my lady back to the manor. Duyun." Qi Yanhan glanced at Duyun, leaving the rest to him.

Zhou Yao had already started to leave, but she turned back and said, "If it was just an ordinary commoner behind this, then let it be. I won't pursue it."

"Yes."

In the carriage, Qi Yanhan's false smile vanished, replaced by a gloomy, almost terrifying expression.

"How did you come to be here?" Zhou Yao eyed him with a hint of suspicion. "Did you have someone tail me? Or do you have informants?"

"It doesn't matter." Zhou Yao said lightly. "This time someone was targeting me anyway. And the informants you've planted around me must be more than just a few, right?"

Qi Yanhan avoided the question, closing his eyes to rest for a moment.

"Does your highness recall the new identity I arranged for you earlier?" He said thoughtfully, "In public, I claim you are my cousin by marriage from the Qi family. Your highness's true identity really shouldn't be exposed to others."

After a long silence, Zhou Yao nodded. "Drop me off up ahead."

"You won't return to Qi Manor with me?"

She ignored him, lifting the curtain to signal the carriage to stop.

Zhou Yao thought to herself: Lately, she'd been seeing Qi Yanhan far more often than before. Truly... troublesome.

A few days later, as Zhou Yao was finishing her stall and wandering the streets as usual, she was suddenly called out to.

"Miss! Miss, wait!" A man rushed up hurriedly and blocked her path, as if determined not to let her pass.