Both children shared the surname Chu. The older sister was called Chu Liuxue, and the younger brother was called Chu Suiyan.
Tao Mian had been accosted by the pair beside a dirt mound, so he promptly named them San Tu and Si Dui.
When they first met, the children were filthy from head to toe. Only after a good scrubbing did their true looks and complexions emerge. At first they claimed they weren’t blood siblings, and Tao Mian hadn’t believed them-they’d clearly been two little dirt rats, identical in grime.
But once they changed into clean clothes and had their faces properly washed, Tao Mian realized they truly bore not the slightest resemblance to each other.
The older sister had a sallow complexion and plain features, while the younger brother had eyes black as lacquer and strikingly beautiful looks. Even at such a young age, he already carried the bearing of someone almost otherworldly.
Tao Mian’s brow furrowed tightly.
“Who are your parents?”
San Tu had a glib tongue and rattled off a whole string of nonsense, words tumbling out like beans from a bamboo tube. She said her father had been the village schoolteacher, but later fell into a gambling addiction and squandered everything the family had. Her mother ran off, her father threw himself into the river, and she was left all alone.
Si Dui, she said, was someone she’d picked up along the way. He had it even worse-the son of a landlord’s concubine, bullied by the first wife, never getting enough to eat, until he finally ran away on his own.
Tao Mian listened to her spin the whole tale.
“Is what you said true?”
“True.”
“If there’s even half a sentence of lies, you won’t get any food.”
“False.”
“…”
Si Dui stood behind his sister, both hands nervously clutching the hem of his clothes. He was shy by nature, half a head shorter than San Tu, and thin besides-he could only depend on her. Whatever San Tu taught him, he learned. Whatever she said, he believed.
If she said Tao Mian was a meal ticket, then a meal ticket he was.
“M-Meal Ticket gege…” Si Dui stammered.
“My name is Tao Mian.”
“L-Little Tao gege.” Judging by appearances, Tao Mian looked like a young man of about twenty. How could Si Dui possibly know he was a thousand-year-old monster? “My sister has been wandering with me for a long time and suffered a great deal. If-if you can’t take in both of us, could you perhaps keep just my sister…”
“What nonsense are you saying!”
San Tu pinched Si Dui’s right hand in a panic. She might swindle and bluff her way through life, but her care for her younger brother was genuine.
If Tao Mian was only willing to keep one of them, then-
“Let my little brother stay!”
San Tu bit her lower lip, as though she had made some agonizing decision.
“Let Suiyan stay. I’ll go.”
Tao Mian dabbed at the corner of his eye with his sleeve, as if moved by the deep bond between the siblings.
“You two really are close.”
“Then-!”
“But you both have to leave.”
“…”
San Tu released Si Dui’s hand and lunged at Tao Mian, all teeth and claws.
“How can you say something so cold on a day this hot!”
“Cool things down a bit, beat the summer heat, keep you two from getting ahead of yourselves. What are you fantasizing about, you pair of little liars?”
“I already told you the truth! You can’t be this cold-blooded and heartless!”
“There’s only ever been me, Tao Mian, freeloading off other people. If you think you can take advantage of me-dream on.”
Tao Mian said it with perfect righteousness. San Tu huffed back to her younger brother’s side.
“Liuxue…”
Si Dui looked at his sister helplessly. San Tu took his hand.
“Let’s go. Let him rot and stink all by himself in his pile of silver!”
“It’s not even New Year’s yet-no need for such auspicious words. But I do enjoy hearing them.”
Tao Mian drawled in reply.
San Tu took Si Dui with her and slammed the door shut with a bang. Tao Mian muttered something about what a temper, then rolled over and went to sleep.
Before he drifted off, a thin slip of paper flew out from inside his robes, slipped through a crack in the window, floated off into the distance, and pasted itself onto a wall along a busy street.
After leaving, San Tu came out onto the street and heard the cries of vendors hawking their wares-along with the loud rumbling of Si Dui’s stomach.
She regretted it immediately.
But Tao Mian looked exactly like the sort of sharp-tongued rich man she knew best. Going back would only mean another round of humiliation. Being humiliated was bearable; not getting money was the fatal part.
Begging wasn’t a long-term plan. San Tu looked at her little brother’s clear, innocent eyes and clenched her teeth.
“We’ve got hands and feet-how could we just starve to death? Don’t worry. Your big sister will think of every possible way to keep you fed.”
They wandered through the market, and as Fated Chance would have it, they spotted a hiring notice posted on a wall.
A scholar was looking to hire two book attendants. The pay was modest, but food and lodging were included.
“This good? It can’t be a scam, right…”
San Tu muttered as she tore it down, planning to look around elsewhere first.
But when she reached the next intersection, then the next, then turned a corner and found yet another-
The exact same notice was plastered everywhere.
At that point, not going was no longer an option.
San Tu steeled herself. Forget it-she’d go take a look. The barefoot had nothing to fear from those in shoes. She had nothing at all, so she had nothing to lose.
She told her brother to stay close, and the two of them headed to the teahouse listed on the notice.
Before going in, San Tu was still worried that two little beggars like them would be chased out by the staff. To her surprise, a waiter greeted them with a beaming smile and led them upstairs to a private room.
The room was screened off by a curtain of beads. From inside came the lingering notes of a qin, accompanied by the soft clink of wine cups. It was San Tu’s first time in such an elegant place, and she felt a twinge of unease.
Someone sat behind the curtain drinking tea. She could vaguely make out a profile-a young gentleman.
She gathered her courage and lifted the bead curtain.
Her gaze collided with the deep, composed eyes of the person inside.
They stared at each other. Only silence remained.
The one inside the room spoke first.
“Oh my, isn’t this Little Tu and Little Dui?”
Tao Mian propped his cheek on one hand and smiled at the two children.
San Tu nearly fainted from rage.
“Y-you…”
“Don’t point at people. It’s rude.”
Tao Mian shifted his posture and lounged lazily against a jade-carved screen.
“You don’t even study,” San Tu said indignantly. “Why would you need book attendants?”
“Who says I don’t? I’m quite the scholar, I’ll have you know.”
“Then why haven’t you sat for the imperial examinations? Can’t pass them?”
“I don’t sit for the zhuangyuan exam because I don’t feel like it.”
San Tu nearly rolled her eyes out of her head.
“Little girl, don’t look down on people. Do you know who the current emperor is?”
“Of course I do!”
This little brat San Tu seemed to hold everyone in contempt, yet when it came to recounting the glorious deeds of Lu Yuandi, she could rattle them off like treasured family heirlooms.
She praised her diligence in governing, praised her love for the people, praised how-despite being a woman-her wisdom and strategy were not the least bit inferior to any man’s. The current peace and clarity within the court and beyond were all thanks to her.
In his ten years of wandering, Tao Mian had heard no small amount of praise for the new emperor among the common folk, yet every time, he could still listen with relish.
Yuandi… is this truly what your heart wished for?
He let out a quiet sigh.
At some point San Tu had stopped her torrent of chatter. Tao Mian’s gaze drifted back to her.
“Why’d you stop?”
“Meal Ticket, are you about to cry?”
“I’m hiring book attendants, not people with bad eyesight.”
“Oh, must’ve been my imagination.” San Tu gave a little shudder. “Nearly grossed myself out there…”
“…I’m also not hiring people who can’t speak nicely.”
“So why did you suddenly bring up the emperor?”
“No reason. I simply happened to think of my beloved disciple.”
“You mean… your disciple is…”
Before San Tu could even finish, Tao Mian was already nodding vigorously.
“…”
The little girl fell silent for a moment, then took her younger brother’s hand again and turned toward the door.
“Suiyan, let’s go. We can’t follow a master whose brain’s not right.”