“Hmph, finally willing to open the door?”
Dark clouds hung low, promising a heavy downpour.
Qu He hurried home with a bundle of freshly bought jasmine in her arms. She hadn’t brought an umbrella today, so she needed to make it back before the rain fell.
A faint smile lingered at the corners of her lips as she nodded in greeting to the neighbors she passed, yet she keenly noticed something ambiguous lurking in their gazes.
Before she could stop and ask what was wrong, a small figure squatting by her own doorstep caught the corner of her eye—like a little mushroom sprouting from a wall corner on an overcast day, its cap drooping listlessly.
A fluffy little kitten curled at the child’s feet, rolling over to show its belly, but it couldn’t earn even a single glance from its little master.
“Sese?” Qu He lifted her skirt and hurried over. She crouched down, setting the jasmine on the threshold, its delicate fragrance enveloping mother and daughter.
“Why are you squatting out here?” She leaned in to look at Chu Mingse’s expression.
Chu Mingse kept her head lowered, her little mouth pursed high in a pout. As Qu He leaned close, she bumped headfirst into her mother’s embrace and wrapped her arms around her.
Qu He caught Chu Mingse gently, stroking her fine, soft hair. “What’s the matter?”
Chu Mingse said in a muffled voice, “Mother, Brother Xuetuan is a good child. He’s not sick—it’s not what they say at all.”
Qu He’s eyes widened in surprise. She glanced around and vaguely caught sight of several neighbors peeking over their walls.
She had a rough idea of what had happened. Her slender willow-like brows drew together slightly, a hint of anger and worry surfacing.
Patter—a small wet spot appeared on the ground at her feet. It had started to rain.
“Come, let’s go inside and talk.” Holding the jasmine in one arm and wrapping the other around Chu Mingse, she stepped through the courtyard gate.
Little Chestnut scrambled to his feet and slipped in after them. The vermilion wooden door closed, shutting out the prying eyes and the gradually falling raindrops.
A fine drizzle pattered against the eaves, and the small kitchen filled with warm, sweet-scented steam.
Chu Mingse held a small bowl of sweet soup, sipping at its rim. Only after the sugary flavor filled her throat did she pour out everything that had happened that day.
“Brother Xuetuan keeps refusing to see me.” Her brows drooped, her whole body seeming drenched by the rain outside. “When I came out, Er Gou was still waiting at the door. He said Brother Xuetuan won’t see me because he has a guilty conscience.”
“But I don’t think that’s it… I believe in Brother Xuetuan, but none of them will listen to me…”
Even the sweet soup in her bowl seemed to turn bitter. Chu Mingse set it down, gloomy and unhappy, her young brows creased with what seemed like the weight of the world. “Mother, what should I do?”
To Chu Mingse, Brother Xuetuan was a new friend she truly liked—and besides, he had saved her twice. The friends she’d grown up with were just as important; she’d been playing with them for as long as she could remember.
Now it felt like she had to choose between them—pick one side, and she’d have to give up the other…
Qu He gently stroked Chu Mingse’s hair and said softly, “Since you’re so firmly choosing to believe in him, I think you already know what to do in your heart?”
“I can’t just stop caring about him because they say he’s bad!” Chu Mingse’s long lashes blinked, a hint of moisture welling up.
She crouched by the door for a long time, thinking. On the day of the Dragon Boat Festival, she had only tripped and twisted her ankle, and by night it had hurt so much she couldn’t sleep. How had Xuetuan-gege endured those days when his legs were broken?
When no one had told him they believed in him, what had that felt like?
Chu Mingse simply racked her brain, drawing on her limited life experience to imagine it, and the thought alone made her miserable.
Lin Ergou and the others had many playmates besides her, but who else did Xuetuan-gege have?
And she had figured it out too—Xuetuan-gege must be worried that others would look at her the way they looked at him, afraid she’d be wronged along with him, which was why he refused to see her.
Then she couldn’t just think of herself and ignore him!
“What if Ergou and the others won’t play with you anymore after this?”
“I can just play with Xuetuan-gege alone.” Chu Mingse pressed her lips together. “Once the truth comes out later, we can all play together again.”
“And if… the truth never comes out?” Qu He had to lay that fact on the table.
The Pei family hadn’t reported the matter to the authorities, only invoked household discipline as a lesson—a clear sign they didn’t want a deep investigation. She even suspected that bastard Pei Xingyi might have deliberately allowed this to happen, just so he could bring that concubine-born son into the household.
He had climbed the path to success by relying on the Du family’s power. Now, taking advantage of the fact that no one in Yun Niang’s family held office at court, he had begun to trample on her like this. Utterly detestable!
Chu Mingse only pondered for a moment before declaring with certainty, “Ergou and the others just aren’t familiar enough with Xuetuan-gege yet. One day they’ll believe Xuetuan-gege is a good person!”
“Just like me! A-niang, you believe in Xuetuan-gege too, right?”
“A-niang naturally believes.” Qu He smiled with relief, smoothing the stray hairs at Chu Mingse’s temple, and praised her without stint, “You did the right thing. You shouldn’t listen to what others say, but see with your own eyes and feel with your own heart.”
Qu He drew Chu Mingse into her arms for a hug, then coaxed her gently, “A-niang will make you some butter conch pastries. You can take them to share with Xuetuan-gege, alright? Maybe a little sweetness will ease his heart too.”
Chu Mingse nodded obediently, ran off on her own to wash her hands, and helped Qu He with the cooking.
The sudden downpour gradually subsided, and a rich milky fragrance wafted through the room.
Qu He picked up a snow-white butter conch pastry and fed it into Chu Mingse’s eagerly waiting mouth. “Is it good?”
Chu Mingse puffed out her cheeks and nodded vigorously.
The kitchen door was suddenly pushed open. Chu Qingyuan, wearing a straw rain cloak, burst in dripping wet, his steps hurried. “Ahe, I need to talk to you about—”
“Out, out!”
Before he could finish, he was shoved out of the small kitchen by the mother-daughter pair working together. Qu He frowned as she untied the fastenings of his rain cloak. “I’ve told you many times—take off your rain cloak under the eaves before coming in. You’re getting water all over the house.”
“I’m sorry.” Chu Qingyuan pulled out a hand to ruffle Chu Mingse’s little head, apologizing a second time. “A-die knows he was wrong. I was just too anxious just now. Sese, don’t follow your father’s example today.”
Chu Mingse lifted her little chin. “Sese is a good child!”
“That’s right, a good child!” Chu Qingyuan shed his rain cloak, bent down, scooped Chu Mingse into his arms, and spun her around once. “Is Sese feeling a bit happier now?”
Qu He was surprised. “How did you know…?”
“I heard Jiang Laosan and the others talking on my way back. I guessed Sese must have found out too. I know her temperament well enough.”
“Father, you believe Brother Xuetuan too, don’t you?” Chu Mingse quickly hugged his neck to confirm.
“Of course I do!”
Chu Qingyuan tapped Chu Mingse’s nose, set her down, and took a plate of butter abalone snails to tuck into her arms, pinching her round little bun as he coaxed, “Sese, be good—go find Brother Xuetuan and have some snacks. Father and Mother need to talk privately for a bit, alright?”
Chu Mingse hugged the sweet white-glazed bowl-shaped plate full of butter abalone snails with both arms, refusing to leave.
“Father and Mother aren’t going to talk about Brother Xuetuan—it’s an adult secret.”
Only then did Chu Mingse turn and run off, while the couple walked hand in hand into the main hall to talk.
The plants in the courtyard had been washed clean of dust by the sudden rain, and the bluestone slabs gleamed brightly, reflecting Chu Mingse’s figure as she pattered past.
“Brother Xuetuan, there are butter abalone snails today! I tasted them for you—they’re crisp and sweet. Open the door, won’t you?”
The tightly shut door was knocked on again.
Inside, Pei Zhaoxue closed his eyes helplessly, yet a complex emotion tinged with the faintest joy inevitably rose in his heart. He knew—she would never just turn and walk away.
He forced down his churning thoughts, resolving to stay silent this time, absolutely refusing to soften.
Then he heard Chu Mingse huff twice. “If you keep ignoring me, don’t blame me later!”
Pei Zhaoxue tilted his head in confusion, still puzzling over what she meant, when—bang!—a loud crash sounded.
The door shook from the impact, accompanied by Little Chestnut’s meow-owl-owl cries of encouragement.
Pei Zhaoxue startled, gripping the armrest tightly.
Outside the door, Chu Mingse held her little hammer in both hands. “Brother Xuetuan, if you don’t come out, I’ll smash the door open!”
Pei Zhaoxue: ?
Steward Wang made a show of trying to stop her. “Oh dear, young miss, don’t be reckless—this door can’t be smashed…”
Though he said it couldn’t be smashed, his hands stayed perfectly still as he watched Chu Mingse bang two more hammer blows against it.
Unfortunately, she was small and weak; the door rattled loudly but didn’t budge a bit.
Seeing Chu Mingse couldn’t break it, Steward Wang hurried forward and whispered in a breathy voice, “Let me, let me…”
He took the little hammer and continued pounding away, all while shouting, “Stop it, young miss! Don’t knock anymore—the young master will get angry…”
“Shwoosh,” the door suddenly opened from the inside, revealing Pei Zhaoxue’s dark, grim face.
Steward Wang hastily pulled back the hammer mid-swing. “…”
He tossed it back like a hot potato, flinging the little hammer into Chu Mingse’s arms with a whoosh. “Careful, young miss! You nearly hit our young master in the face! I—I’m going to go call for help!”
Steward Wang promptly made his escape, slipping away.
Chu Mingse, sweat beading on her forehead, planted her hands on her hips and glared at Pei Zhaoxue. “Hmph, finally willing to open the door?”
Pei Zhaoxue opened his mouth to say something.
Chu Mingse cut him off. “Don’t talk. Whatever you say now, I won’t like it—so you listen to me!”
“I already know what happened, and I still believe you! And my father and mother believe you too! You can’t push away the people who trust you just because of what others say!”
Chu Mingse had so much she wanted to say, but seeing Pei Zhaoxue sitting there in the Plain Sedan Chair, she felt both angry and heartbroken, and lost all composure to organize her words—she simply threw herself at him and hugged him.
She rubbed the tears welling up in her eyes against his chest, her voice choked with sobs. “You can’t bear everything alone. Your mother, me, my father and mother—we’re all here, and Uncle Wang is here too. We all believe in you…”
A ripple passed through Pei Zhaoxue’s eyes, a faint trembling ember beginning to kindle within.
Steward Wang rushed in again, panting heavily. “Young master! Look who’s come!”
Author’s note:
None