"Sis, there's no need to rush to the restaurant. I don't need some fancy top-tier meal."
"We're not going to a restaurant. We need to run—somewhere far away," Anzhi said seriously.
"Run?" Yan didn't quite understand.
They stopped near a place selling horse carts. Anzhi didn't even haggle—she quickly bought one with a decent-looking horse and told Yan to get on.
There was no step, and Yan had trouble climbing up. His face turned red from effort, and sweat dotted his nose.
Seeing this, Anzhi set aside the usual distance between men and women and helped lift him into the cart as gently as possible.
"Here, A-Yan."
"Ah!" Yan gave a small yelp, then scrambled into the cart and sat down.
He lifted the curtain and looked shocked.
"Anzhi-jiejie?"
Once he was inside, Anzhi climbed up, took the reins, and started the cart.
"Hyah!"
The horse began moving.
Anzhi let out a breath and started explaining.
"That Taoist woman wasn't trustworthy. She seemed sincere, but I could tell she was hiding something. She said she was 'in retreat,' but she was just watching the gate. Someone like that being so rich—it doesn't make sense. From how she acted, I could tell she really needed that item we sold. She likely gave us most of her savings, and that tells me she's ruthless."
Being ruthless is sometimes what lets ordinary people achieve big things.
"You mean… she might come to kill us?!" Yan's face went pale.
Anzhi nearly dropped the reins.
Yep, it really was ancient times—everything turned deadly so fast.
But the kid had a point.
She tried to comfort him. "She probably won't kill us. At worst, she'll send someone to beat us up and steal the money." Though, it wasn't impossible—but she didn't want to scare him.
"So the stuff you said earlier was just to trick her—to make her think we'd be staying in town, so she wouldn't act right away. That gave us time to escape!" Yan finally understood.
"You're amazing, Jiejie—so clever and strategic!"
"Eh, just average," Anzhi said, smiling proudly while pretending to be humble.
She had planned to leave town after the sale anyway—this was just leaving in a hurry.
"No way that's average!" Yan started counting on his fingers. "You know medicine, you're good at business, you're smart, and you can even drive a cart."
Everything else aside—driving a cart?
She explained, "I learned to ride horses when I was little. Driving a cart is just about keeping balance."
She really did ride horses well when she was younger. After falling ill, she never touched them again.
"Ohh." Yan nodded like he understood.
Anzhi really was something—knowing so much, especially horse riding.
That was one of the six arts noble girls learned. Ordinary girls didn't. Only wealthy families, guards, or characters in storybooks knew how to ride.
But—
"Jiejie, where are we going?"
"As far away as possible."
As far as possible?
As the cart passed a house with two stone lions, Yan looked up.
The sign read: "Chu Residence."
He lowered his head. The words of the vendor earlier echoed in his ears.
—
"Has anything big happened in town lately?"
The vegetable seller shook his head slowly. "Nothing much, all's peaceful."
"What about the Chu family?"
"The Chu family… oh, didn't you hear? They hired a Taoist to change their young master's name. Said it was unlucky."
"But noble families never reveal names, so no one really knows what it was changed to. They even gave out porridge to the poor yesterday. Good-hearted people. That young master sure is lucky."
Lucky?
Maybe so. He had fainted from sickness, thrown out of the house, and somehow ended up meeting Anzhi, not some cruel beggar. That really was luck—just like in those old stories.
He remembered the day his father called him to the hall. His mother, who was usually away, was also there.
He hadn't even had time to be happy before his father said:
"Yan, you're not our biological son. There was a mistake at birth. You lived our son's life while he suffered in poverty."
Then he looked fondly at a boy standing nearby.
"We've finally found our real son."
Yan turned to look at the boy. He stood beside his father, looking down on Yan with disdain, while clinging to their father like a spoiled child.
The same father who always told Yan to behave properly now smiled gently, patting the boy's hand.
His mother, usually strict, also smiled warmly.
They looked like a real family. The boy even resembled his father.
Yan felt like he had fallen into ice.
Then the boy said, "So you're the one who took my life as the young master? I had to chop wood and cook every day while you enjoyed a rich life. Lucky you. Good thing my real parents found me."
He sounded sincerely thankful.
Their father immediately replied, "My poor son, you suffered."
"Father, I suffered, but meeting you is worth it."
His mother added, "My son is so mature."
Then she turned to Yan and said meaningfully, "We've raised you all these years. You were just a baby—it wasn't your fault…"
"Yes," the boy interrupted. "He suffered by enjoying a rich life."
"Don't be rude, dear," their mother said gently, clearly favoring him.
She continued, "You're not at fault, so we'll let you stay. Hardly anyone knows the truth. After some time, we'll call you our adopted son. The Chu family will have two young masters."
Their father glared at Yan. "Because of you, our real son has to wait before being officially recognized."
Yan had been scared and confused then, but he believed them.
He thought they were protecting him by not spreading the truth.
So when the other boy bullied him, he stayed silent.
He thought he owed him.
The boy said it—he had taken his place for sixteen years.
But then he got sick.
Suddenly, the Chu family's young master wasn't Yan anymore. It was that boy—Chu Moran.
Yan disappeared from the world, along with the sixteen years he had lived.