His healthy, energetic, well-proportioned young master…
“Young master—!”
A small, thin figure darted out from behind Steward Wang, sobbing as he rushed toward Pei Zhaoxue.
He was short and stocky, appearing to be about the same age as Chu Mingse. His clothes looked like they had been patched together from scraps of cloth, and his face and hair were filthy and disheveled, making it impossible to discern his original appearance.
Pei Zhaoxue was stunned for a moment, unable to recognize at first who this beggar-like child was.
“Young master, Ping’an has finally found you!”
It was only when the boy announced his identity and burst into loud sobs that Pei Zhaoxue recognized him.
“Ping’an?” Pei Zhaoxue frowned in surprise. “Aren’t you…”
Ping’an was his page boy, who had disappeared without a trace after his misfortune. The servants had insisted with certainty that they had seen him flee the household with stolen gold, silver, and valuables.
At the time, Pei Zhaoxue had been in the depths of despair, and he could only assume that Ping’an had run away because he feared being implicated and punished, or because he felt there was no future in staying by his side. So he had chosen to slip away while Pei Zhaoxue was unconscious.
The incident had dealt him a heavy blow. Ping’an had been by his side since the age of two, and over the seven years they had been together, Pei Zhaoxue had always looked after him like a younger brother. Yet the moment disaster struck, the person closest to him had abandoned him—how could that not wound his heart?
But now, seeing him so destitute and pitiful, this was hardly the appearance of someone who had fled of their own accord.
Ping’an clung to the armrest of the Plain Sedan Chair, weeping as he defended himself through tears and snot: “Young master, Ping’an is no runaway slave! It was that venomous, cruel-hearted woman who had me bound and sold off!”
Pei Zhaoxue’s heart jolted.
“I struggled so hard to escape!” Ping’an wiped his tears with his filthy sleeve, leaving another streak of grime across his face. “I heard that the madam had sent you away, young master, but I didn’t know where. I wanted to go to the madam for help, but she has been bedridden with illness, and the back courtyard of the household has almost entirely fallen into that venomous woman’s hands!”
Ping’an gritted his teeth in fury as he spoke, his small fist pounding the armrest in indignation—only to wince and gently rub his hand. He continued, “I couldn’t see the madam, so I decided to go out and ask around myself. As I was inquiring, I overheard people saying that the madam had sent you to Shuijin Town. So I hid on the back of someone else’s carriage and followed along!”
Afraid of being recognized, he hadn’t dared to change his clothes or wash his face, and he had endured countless scornful looks along the way. Just thinking about it made him feel wronged!
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that you…” Pei Zhaoxue’s voice was hoarse, a jumble of emotions churning in his heart. If only he had been more alert back then, not so dazed and listless, Ping’an wouldn’t have had to suffer so much.
It seemed that the one who had crippled him wasn’t satisfied with that alone—he also wanted to leave Pei Zhaoxue with no one by his side.
“Young master, you’ve grown so thin!” Ping’an gazed at his young master through tearful eyes. When he had been taken away, the young master had been lying on his deathbed, and Ping’an had suffered nightmares for many nights, dreaming that the young master hadn’t pulled through.
Now, seeing him again—though the young master sat in the Plain Sedan Chair, his expression seemed passable, just thinner than before, with a touch more coldness about him than in the past.
His healthy, energetic, well-proportioned, upright young master!
“Little Ping’an, don’t cry anymore,”
As the two of them wallowed in their sorrow, Chu Mingse approached with a small handkerchief in hand and offered it to Ping’an to wipe his tears.
Ping’an warily clutched his hands together, staring at Chu Mingse without blinking. “Who are you? How old are you?”
This girl clearly didn’t look very old, so why was she calling him “Little Ping’an”?!
Chu Mingse lowered her eyes to look at Ping’an, who was slightly shorter than herself, and said matter-of-factly, “I’m six. You look younger than me, so you’re the little brother.”
Ping’an’s eyes widened, and he puffed up his cheeks, planting his hands on his hips indignantly. “I’m nine!”
How could he be this short at nine?!
Although Chu Mingse didn’t say anything, her round, startled eyes practically shouted the question without words.
“He’s a picky eater, so he grows…” Pei Zhaoxue began flatly, but when she caught sight of the blush that even the dirt on Ping’an’s face couldn’t hide, she changed the word “slowly” just before it left her lips.
“I’ll definitely eat my vegetables from now on!” Chu Mingse patted her chest, still shaken.
Ping’an’s face fell. With Chu Mingse’s interruption, he could no longer muster the mood for melancholy.
Steward Wang stepped forward at the right moment, reaching out with two fingers to grab the back of Ping’an’s collar. “Now that you’ve seen the young master, come with me to bathe and freshen up. What a sight you are!”
As he spoke, Steward Wang tugged Ping’an along, but after just two steps, the fragile fabric tore with a ripping sound.
Ping’an awkwardly picked up the fallen scrap of cloth, then reached out to grab the hem of Steward Wang’s robe. “Oh, hurry up, Steward Wang! I can’t wait to wash up!”
Steward Wang’s face crumpled in despair as he protested weakly, “I’ve only worn this robe a few times—let go, let go, let go…”
“Brother Xuetuan, look.” Chu Mingse watched the two leave, then grabbed Pei Zhaoxue’s hand and gave it a little shake. “So many people believe in you!”
The number of people who believed in him could be counted on two hands—where was the “so many”?
But Pei Zhaoxue’s gaze still softened. At least, at least there were still people standing by his side.
Her dark lashes lowered slightly, veiling her obscure, unreadable eyes. That mother and son pair wouldn’t even spare a single little page boy by his side—even after he had been nearly cast out by the Pei family, they still sought his whereabouts, clinging like a bone-marrow parasite that refused to let go.
If he gave them what they wanted, it would only grieve those who loved him and delight those who hated him.
He thought, no matter what others said, he would simply walk his own path.
Now that he had lost his moment and yielded to petty men, he should hide his blade within his sheath and bide his time.
Pei Zhaoxue clasped Chu Mingse’s small hand in return, lifting her eyelids slightly. The cold, hard ice in her pupils—darker than most—melted away, giving way to a faint, warm luster. “It’s my fault, making Sese worry.”
Chu Mingse curved her round eyes into crescents, the slightly downturned corners of her eyes innocent and adorable. “That’s more like it!”
She naively believed that a straight foot is not afraid of a crooked shoe, that the truth of justice would one day come to light and clear the name of the wronged. But she had yet to learn that some people scheme and others shield them, and that it might take a year, two years, or even seven or eight years before anything came to light.
The world was not always as fair as one might imagine, nor was it the simple black-and-white of a child’s eyes.
But children didn’t understand such things—adults did, and they had their own ways of dealing with it.
Chu Qingyuan and Qu He needed to leave Denghua Lane for a time, and their greatest worry was Pei Zhaoxue, who had been slandered by rumors. For him to live peacefully and steadily in Denghua Lane, he could not leave an impression of being fierce and violent in the minds of the neighbors.
But before they left, there was little time to devise a careful plan, so they could only resort to the quickest, crudest method.
Qu He carried the clothes to the well to wash them, her brows furrowed in worry, on the verge of tears.
The uncles and aunties of the alley, having been neighbors with the Chu family for years, couldn’t help but ask with concern, “He Niang, are you fretting over your Sese?”
“If you ask me, Sese is old enough to know better. You should tell her clearly how formidable that eldest son of the Pei family is, and stop her from running over to the Pei household!”
“Dear aunties and sisters-in-law, you don’t know…” Qu He let out a long, melancholy sigh. “Actually, I’m an old acquaintance of the Pei family’s eldest son’s mother!”
The women all widened their eyes in surprise.
“His mother, Yun Niang, was a refined lady from a distinguished family in her youth—well-read, gentle, and virtuous. One day, she encountered danger and was saved by a poor scholar. Ignoring her parents’ objections, she wished to give herself to him in marriage to repay his lifesaving grace…”
Two young wives squeezed over, carrying wooden basins with a few pieces of clothing, pretending to be busy while actually fixing their eyes on Qu He, listening to her continue about how Yun Niang bravely and resolutely broke through obstacles to finally marry the scholar surnamed Pei.
“But who would have thought—that scholar already had a sweetheart in his heart! The so-called lifesaving grace was all an elaborate scheme he had devised, just to climb up through Yun Niang’s prestigious family background! He married Yun Niang with sweet words, but never cut ties with the woman outside. He kept her secretly as his mistress, and the son she bore was barely two years younger than the legitimate eldest son of the household!”
“Th-this is even more detestable than Chen Shimei!” One auntie slammed the soap pod in her hand to the ground in fury.
“Alas, that mistress was even more formidable in her tricks,” Qu He continued, weaving Yun Niang’s story with a mix of truth and fiction, her tone heavy with grief. “To force the Pei family to acknowledge her and her son, she used every despicable means imaginable…”
She knew well that common folk loved hearing such twists and turns, especially the dark secrets of noble households. Some things are better let out than blocked up. The more she painted Yun Niang as a pitiful, devoted fool, and the poor scholar-turned-official and his mistress as heartless, ruthless, and venomous, the more people’s sympathies would naturally shift.
Such is human nature—different stances lead to different views. Between a properly wedded wife and a mistress who cannot see the light of day, whether by reason, law, or morality, people’s scales will always tip toward the legitimate wife.
What proper married woman would sympathize with a scheming mistress trying to shake her and her child’s position?
What sincere-hearted person would not pity a naive soul deceived and given her true heart to the wrong man? Would they not despise that faithless, calculating fraud?
Whether or not the truth could ever be uncovered, once they were drawn into this story, they would unconsciously begin to wonder—could that disabled eldest son, condemned by all, have been framed?
As for Master Pei’s reputation, no one cared about that anymore. Qu He only wished she could turn this into a storybook and spread it to the capital to ruin the Pei name completely.
But the risk was too great. For now, as long as the people of Denghua Alley could temporarily sympathize with Pei Zhaoxue and stop seeing him as a menace, she and Chu Qingyuan could rest easy.
Author’s note:
None