Chapter 035 The Runaway Little Insect Girl

On the silent street, Li Zaixing hurried alone, keeping close to the wall of the district. Occasionally, he would encounter patrolling guards. Earlier, when chasing Xie Dalang, he had thrown caution to the wind, barreling through without care. Now, walking alone, he had no reason to provoke the guards. With no moon above and the street shrouded in darkness, he moved swiftly yet lightly, his footsteps silent. Unless someone passed close by, it was nearly impossible to notice his presence.

His skills in tracking from a former life made him nearly invisible in the empty avenue.

If luck failed and he met a patrol head-on, he would simply scale the district wall and wait. The walls were made of rammed earth, not vertical but sloped and uneven, making it easy for him to climb to their top, about ten feet high. The crest of the wall was two or three feet wide; if he lay quietly atop it, even guards passing below wouldn’t notice him.

Moreover, the patrols were lethargic, their vigilance shockingly low. Earlier, as Li Zaixing and Xie Dalang dashed past several patrols, they had feigned deafness, pretending not to see. For them to look up at the wall was even less likely.

So much for the famed strict night curfew of the capital. Those with power and influence were untouchable for these guards, and even wandering knights like Xie Dalang could brazenly stand atop the district walls, ignoring the curfew altogether. The guards would simply disregard such people; only the powerless common folk were truly subject to their authority.

Though walking in darkness, as a former border soldier who had tracked enemies across glaciers, Li Zaixing never lost his way. Passing the southwest corner of the East Market, he could see Pingkang district ahead—just one more crossing and he would reach his target. Yet, at the gate of Xuanyang district, his way was blocked.

Xuanyang’s east gate was wide open, ablaze with light. Dozens of warriors bearing spears and sabers streamed out, torches raised, moving swiftly along the wall.

Even Li Zaixing, bold as he was, couldn’t simply stride past them. Naturally, he flipped onto the wall and lay flat atop it, waiting for the warriors to pass. As he lay there, he glanced into the district, and was startled—almost uttering a curse.

The sight left him dumbfounded. Had he wandered into the imperial palace by mistake?

His sense of direction was not that poor; he knew the palace was still some distance away. The illusion came from the sheer opulence of the manor before him.

Li Zaixing recalled Li Bi’s descriptions of Chang’an’s building regulations. First, commoners were forbidden to build tall towers; only temples and monasteries could have such structures, and ordinary homes were limited to two stories, with only a rare few favored by imperial grace allowed three. This was to prevent anyone from seeing outside the district, especially the palace. Second, restrictions applied to the depth of houses: even high-ranking officials could not exceed nine bays, and commoners’ main halls no more than four, lest they overstep their status.

From the bell tower of Bodhi Temple, Li Zaixing had seen Li Linfu’s residence. Li Linfu, second only to the emperor, naturally lived in luxury. Yet even his house paled before this manor. Li Zaixing might not grasp the specifics of bays and spans, but he could tell the central building here was larger and taller than Li Linfu’s.

He suddenly remembered Du Fu saying this was likely the Qinren district where Yang Guifei’s siblings lived—could this be the residence of those imperial relatives? Yang Guifei was in favor now; if her family wanted such a house, it was plausible.

Li Zaixing lay atop the wall, gazing at the golden brilliance of the new mansion, Du Fu’s envy and resentment toward the Yang sisters echoing in his mind. As he pondered, a soft sound came from below. He started, tensing instantly, eyes straining toward the source. By the distant light, he saw a tiny figure hidden among flower pots at the wall’s base, face upturned, timidly studying him. In the night, only her eyes gleamed, pure as pearls.

Li Zaixing looked around and understood. The mansion was so luxurious it used the district wall as its outer wall; below him was a small flower bed, several giant pots clustered together, and the little figure nestled in the gaps between them. Without a careful glance, no one would expect a person in such a cramped space.

Was this a little thief?

Li Zaixing examined her more closely. The figure was unusually small, not an adult but a child. He looked around; the warriors outside had moved away, and no one was nearby inside. He whispered, “Who are you?”

“I am Bug Girl,” came the low, tearful reply. “I can’t get out. I’m so scared…”

Li Zaixing relaxed. By the distant light, he saw the child who called herself Bug Girl. The flower pot was wide above, narrow below; she cowered beneath, only her head visible, face streaked with tears, pitifully looking up at him, asking in a weak voice, “Are you a thief here to steal?”

Li Zaixing’s forehead darkened. He had thought she was the thief, yet she mistook him for one.

“I’m not a thief. How did you end up here?”

“I got tired from dancing, so I came out to rest and hid here. But now I can’t get out.”

“Why didn’t you call for help? One shout and someone would rescue you. Weren’t those people looking for you?” Li Zaixing asked.

“Father would scold me.” The little one sniffled. “Father is fierce. Everyone fears him. I’m scared too.”

Li Zaixing was speechless. Was her father some wolfish tyrant? He had no time to ponder. Surveying the area, he slid down quietly, braced his feet beneath the pots, pressed them apart, bent down, and held out his hand. “Bug Girl, give me your hand.”

She stood slowly, placing her small hand in his palm. It was soft and cool, despite the dirt, still smooth to the touch. Li Zaixing stayed alert, lifted her from between the pots, and set her atop the wall.

Only then did he notice her clothes were unlike any he’d seen. At the hem, peacock feathers were embroidered; at the shoulders, patterns like scales; around the waist, white cloud motifs.

“What kind of clothes are these?” Li Zaixing whispered with a smile. “They’re beautiful.”

“Really?” Freed from her plight, Bug Girl’s face lit up, her eyes shimmering like water. “If you take me out, I’ll dance the Whirling Dance for you. That’s even prettier.”

“Is that so?” Li Zaixing couldn’t help laughing. “You want to run away?”

Bug Girl’s eyes dimmed, lips pouting. “Father makes me pray all day. Even when I’m tired, he won’t let me rest. I always want to escape.” She suddenly brightened. “Don’t steal anything tonight. Steal me away instead, will you?”

Li Zaixing’s heart softened. He looked around and nodded. “Alright, I’ll take you out.” He hoisted Bug Girl onto his back, hands supporting her firmly. “Bug Girl, hold tight.”

“Mm-hmm!” She hugged his neck, nodding excitedly.

Li Zaixing, carrying Bug Girl, began to run along the wall. Though the crest was narrow and he bore an extra weight, he moved swiftly and silently. The torch-bearing warriors had gone west, never imagining the target they sought was slipping into the darkness right behind them.

Upon reaching Bodhi Temple, Li Zaixing went straight to his quarters. Hearing footsteps, Lu Hu, who slept outside, emerged and was startled at the sight of the little girl on Li Zaixing’s back. “Master, where did you pick up this child?”

“I’ll tell you later. First, fetch some hot water and something to eat.” Li Zaixing carried Bug Girl into the inner room. On the bed, Aiermaidi sat up, astonished at Li Zaixing’s return, but said nothing.

“Oh! Your hair is just like my mother’s,” Bug Girl cried out in delight as soon as she touched the ground, rushing to Aiermaidi’s side to stroke her golden hair, full of joy.

“Your eyes…” Aiermaidi noticed Bug Girl’s eyes were strikingly different—a pair bluer than her own green robe, like two sapphires.

“Heehee, my eyes are like Mother’s,” Bug Girl boasted, fluttering her long lashes. “Aren’t they pretty?”

“What’s your mother’s name?” Aiermaidi asked, gripping Bug Girl’s hand in surprise. Bug Girl squealed in pain, “Ouch, you’re hurting me! Who are you? You’re so fierce.”

“What’s your mother’s name?” Aiermaidi let go quickly, speaking gently.

“I won’t tell you.” Bug Girl broke free, darted behind Li Zaixing, peeking out. “You’re a bad person. I won’t tell you.”

Aiermaidi grew anxious, wanting to pursue her, but Li Zaixing stopped her. “Enough, she’s hungry. There’s time to ask later.”

Lu Hu entered with water and food, frowning slightly as he studied Bug Girl, sighing. While washing her face, he said, “Master, is this a little fairy you brought back? Judging by her attire, she must be a young priestess performing rituals.”

Li Zaixing watched Bug Girl, now stripped of her peacock robe and clad only in a pale garment, wolfing down her food, and smiled. “You’re spot on. She was in the middle of a ritual. Who knows what heartless beast, for a handful of coins, would mistreat a child like this.”

Li Zaixing summarized his encounter with Bug Girl. Lu Hu sighed, full of pity, saying nothing more. Aiermaidi, disappointed, refrained from asking about Bug Girl’s mother. After her meal, Lu Hu tried to arrange for Bug Girl and Aiermaidi to share a bed, but Bug Girl adamantly refused. Aiermaidi, in her urgency, had hurt Bug Girl, leaving a poor impression; no matter what was said, Bug Girl would not sleep beside her.

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