The sun shone bright and clear, the sky a washed, spotless blue.
Inside the Pei family estate, two servants carried a water clock from the direction of the Green Bamboo Lodge toward the outer courtyard.
The shorter one grumbled, “The young master’s temper is getting stranger by the day. Before, he wouldn’t let us near him, which saved us the trouble—but these past two days, why has he started making us run around again? In the middle of the rain, he said he wanted the water clock moved in, and now he says it’s too noisy and wants us to move it out…”
The taller one looked utterly unconcerned. “What’s the big deal? Following the young master is the easiest job there is. Not only do we only need to deliver hot water and meals twice a day, morning and evening—but this courtyard, the young master never goes anywhere. We just tidy up our own quarters and rest. How convenient.”
“…Is that all you aspire to?” the shorter one muttered. “The work is light, sure, but look at the master’s reaction—the young master probably won’t be returning to the capital. We’ll be buried in this place for the rest of our lives.”
“The mistress has only our young master as her one son—how could she just leave him be? You wait. Once the master’s anger cools in a few days, the mistress will definitely find a way to bring the young master back to the mansion.”
“You’re really carefree about this.” The shorter one was speechless. “What the young master did this time is no small matter. With that woman and her precious son around, does our mistress even have a say?”
Those whose favor has faded and whose love has waned have always found themselves in difficult positions. And the mistress was even more of a soft-hearted pushover—barely able to protect herself, let alone shield the young master.
“If you gossip about the masters’ affairs again, you can kiss your tongues goodbye!” An old, stern voice rang out, startling the two men.
“Steward Wang, we wouldn’t dare!” The shorter one quickly bowed his head in apology and dragged his companion away in a hasty retreat.
The taller one shot him a glare: You got me in trouble again!
Steward Wang clasped his hands behind his back and glared at them as they fled. He then turned his gaze toward the Green Bamboo Lodge and let out a worried sigh.
The mistress had lost her authority over the household, and the number of people she could command was pitifully small. If Nanny Liang and her two trusted maids hadn’t been indispensable at her side, she would certainly have sent them along to accompany the young master as well. As it was, only he—a useless old man—had managed to break away and follow him here. The physicians he had sought out far and wide couldn’t even get a glimpse of the young master. Watching the young master grow more silent and strange day by day, shutting everyone out, he felt he had utterly failed the mistress’s trust.
Heavens above, send someone to make the young master speak! Otherwise, he truly would have no face to meet the mistress, would be jabbed in the back by Nanny Liang’s accusations, and even his coffin lid wouldn’t stay shut after he died!
“Meow~”
A little stray cat nimbly leaped onto the courtyard wall and disappeared into the undergrowth.
Steward Wang’s eyes lit up. When the young master was four or five, he had once said he wanted to keep a cat, but the master had been strict and forbade keeping cats or dogs, saying they were distractions that dulled one’s ambition. Now, far away in Shuijin Town, if he could keep one and fulfill a childhood dream, perhaps things might improve. Having made up his mind, Steward Wang gave chase with a nimbleness that belied his age.
The sound of footsteps rose and fell in turns.
Chu Mingse, her belly full of fresh knowledge, dashed excitedly toward the window.
“Brother Xuetuan! I know your name now!”
After habitually calling out, she slipped the note she had written through the crack in the window. On it, in careful strokes, she had written down every word she had just spoken.
Pei Zhaoxue: “…”
The four large characters “Brother Xuetuan” landed right beneath his fingertips. He curled his fingers slightly, a puzzled frown creasing his brow.
He had only heard his mother call him “Little Xuetuan” when he was just learning to walk. Ever since he began his formal studies, he had forbidden his mother from using such an embarrassing nickname.
She… how could she call him that?
He raised his hand to open the window, intending to tell her to stop calling him that, but his outstretched arm froze mid-air. His fingers clenched into a fist, then lowered again.
Outside the window, Chu Mingse spread out her paper, ink, brush, and inkstone from her bundle, arranging them neatly before the window, proudly swaying her head from side to side.
Last night as she lay in bed, tossing and turning, she had thought long and hard about what to call Brother Pei now that she knew his name.
“A-Che” was a childhood name, one that only elders could appropriately use. “Zhaoxue” didn’t feel any more intimate than “Brother Pei,” and it took a lot of brushwork to write. She had let her imagination run wild from the name “Pei Zhaoxue,” and in a flash of inspiration, she thought of “Xuetuan.”
It rarely snowed in Shuijin Town during winter, and when it did, only a few snow pellets would drift down. One would have to work extremely hard to gather enough to form a little snowball.
It was the most beautiful and precious word associated with snow that Chu Mingse could recall in her memory.
Such a unique and intimate-sounding nickname—Xuetuan-gege was sure to like it too.
Chu Mingse flourished her brush, writing one character at a time as she recited, “I can recite the Three Character Classic and the Thousand Character Classic from memory, but I don’t recognize all the characters yet. Last night Father taught me many of them, and he said I can already be considered a little literary prodigy.”
The characters were written in a scattered, messy fashion, with several wrong characters mixed in. Chu Mingse didn’t mind in the slightest. She stuffed the note through the window crack, full of anticipation.
Before long, a note came out from inside:
“Your handwriting is too ugly. Stop writing.
I can hear you.”
These characters were simple—Chu Mingse recognized them all.
She was overjoyed. No more writing needed! Her fingers had grown sore from gripping the brush and writing all those characters just now.
She tossed aside the brush, rubbed her aching hand, and leaned by the window, chattering away, “Father said that since I’m still young and don’t have much strength in my hands, it’s normal for my handwriting to be ugly. I just need to practice slowly as time goes on.”
As she spoke, her eyes darted around, and another idea popped into her head. She said, “But I really don’t recognize many characters. The ones you wrote just now—I couldn’t read them all. I had to guess half and piece together the rest. Why don’t you talk to me too?”
It hadn’t occurred to her yesterday that she could “blackmail” him into talking to her this way.
But contrary to her wishes, the room fell into dead silence again. This time, there wasn’t even a note.
Chu Mingse quickly tried to make amends: “If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. If there’s anything I don’t understand, I can take it back and have Father teach me. Xuetuan-gege, please don’t ignore me.”
She tapped on the window frame and praised him, “Father says your calligraphy is excellent. If there’s a chance in the future, could I ask you to teach me to practice writing?”
“Father and Mother are both so busy. My father is the most skilled woodcarver in town—many people come seeking him out to carve things for them, and he often spends entire days in his workshop. My mother is a famous flower gardener in town, and she often goes to help tend to other people’s plants, so she doesn’t have much time to watch over my practice.”
“You’re so talented, I’m sure you could help me write beautifully—so well that even Father would be impressed.” Chu Mingse’s dark eyes darted around as she racked her brains, trying to coax him into agreeing. That way, she’d have a reason to lure him out and invite him to her home.
A note squeezed out through the window crack, bearing two large characters: No way.
Chu Mingse glanced at it and narrowed her eyes, folding the note and tucking it into her robes, putting on a show of innocence: “Oh dear, what characters did Brother Xuetuan write? Sese doesn’t recognize them. I’ll take them home to show Father.”
Another failure. She might as well go ask her father for advice.
Chu Mingse walked off in a daze, not paying attention to the steps beneath her feet, and with a cry of “Ah!” she tumbled down.
Thud.
Clatter.
The first sound was Chu Mingse landing on the soft earth; the second came from inside the tightly shuttered room, as if a heavy object had toppled over.
Chu Mingse scrambled to her feet, covered in dirt, and rushed back to the window, pounding on it anxiously: “Brother Xuetuan? Are you alright? Did you fall? What happened?”
There was no sound from within. Chu Mingse strained to listen, and could faintly make out the harsh scraping of wood against the bluestone floor, accompanied by the faint sound of pained breathing.
He must have fallen! And maybe something toppled over and hit him!
With his legs being as they were, if he took a fall like that, how would he get himself up?
“Y-you, wait a moment, I’ll come in and help you!” Chu Mingse panicked, frantically pushing at the window. It wouldn’t budge, so she ran around to the front door with quick, thumping steps.
She was small and weak, and no matter how hard she pushed, she still couldn’t get the door open. The wood grain left marks on her hands.
“Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t be scared!” Chu Mingse muttered to herself, unsure whether she was comforting herself or Pei Zhaoxue, as she pounded on the door to let him know she was still there. “I’ll go fetch someone to help you!”
She lifted her skirt to run, but a sharp voice from inside the door stopped her: “Come back!”
The voice, long unused, was hoarse and rough, as harsh as stones hitting the ground.
Chu Mingse whirled back to the door, crying out in surprise: “Brother Xuetuan? You spoke? You, you, you…”
She was so flustered she didn’t know what to ask first, and stammered before saying: “Are you alright? Where did you hurt yourself? Can I come in and see you?”
“I’m fine.” He answered her string of questions with three short words.
On the other side of the door, the heavy Plain Sedan Chair lay toppled on its side, and a trail of bloodstains wound across the bluestone floor, extending to beneath a pair of limp, powerless legs.
Pei Zhaoxue propped himself up with one hand, lifting the hem of his robe with the other, and frowned as he glanced at the spots on his legs where blood was seeping through. His legs had been pinned by the overturned sedan chair, which had landed right on the broken injury. It had taken considerable effort to drag his legs free, and now his lips were drained of color and his forehead was covered in cold sweat. He certainly wouldn’t let anyone see him in such a sorry state.
“Are you really alright?”
The little girl’s timid voice came from outside the door. Pei Zhaoxue withdrew his disgusted gaze from his legs. He didn’t have the strength to haul himself back into the sedan chair for now, so he let himself collapse onto the bluestone floor.
The pain from his wound churned in his mind, and his fingers, which had been overexerted moments before, trembled slightly from the sudden release of tension—a reminder that, humiliating as it was, he was still alive.
He stared at some empty point in the air, parted his lips, and said in a low, hoarse voice: “I’m fine. You go.”
Chu Mingse hesitated, pressing her ear to the door to listen once more, but heard nothing.
She called out with worry in her voice: “If you’re hurt, you must see a doctor, alright?”
After waiting for a long while and getting no response from the person inside, she finally left, looking back every few steps.
Chu Mingse climbed over the wall and saw Chu Qingyuan in the courtyard helping Qu He pick vegetables.
Chu Qingyuan had just turned down a woodcarving commission he wasn’t interested in and was quite at leisure. When he turned his head and saw Chu Mingse covered in mud popping up over the wall, he quickly set down the vegetables, wiped his hands clean on his clothes, and went over to lift Chu Mingse down.
“What happened here—did you go rolling around in the mud?” He tried to help brush the dirt off Chu Mingse, but couldn’t find a good place to start. “Forget it, go change and wash up when you get back.”
Chu Mingse nodded glumly, then explained, “I’m fine, I just tripped and fell. But Brother Xuetuan…”
She told him what she had heard and her guesses, sighing: “He wouldn’t say. I don’t know if the fall was serious or not.”
“Boys that age care the most about saving face. When they’ve fallen and look a mess, of course they don’t want anyone to see.”
Chu Qingyuan patted Chu Mingse on the top of the head and said softly to comfort her: “Tell you what—let’s give him a little time to pull himself together. In a bit, Father will take the pastries your mother made and go over, asking a servant boy to deliver them to your Brother Xuetuan’s hands. That way we’ll have an excuse to have someone check on his condition. How about that?”
Chu Mingse nodded and ran off quickly to change her clothes. “Father, wait for me—I’ll go with you!”
A quarter of an hour later, Chu Mingse held Chu Qingyuan’s hand and waited anxiously at the entrance of the Pei estate for the servant boy to return with word.
The servant boy came trotting back carrying the tray. Chu Mingse stood on her tiptoes to look closely—the tray was empty! Brother Xuetuan had accepted Mother’s pastries!
The servant boy politely handed the tray back: “The young master asked me to convey his thanks.”
“We’re all neighbors, no need to be so formal.” Chu Qingyuan exchanged a few pleasantries, then was tugged by Chu Mingse, who pressed: “May I ask, how is the young master doing?”
“Ah?” The servant boy was taken aback, not understanding what he was being asked.
“I mean—on the day you all moved in, the young master seemed to have an injury. How is he doing now?” Chu Qingyuan chose his words carefully. “Is his complexion still rosy?”
The servant boy swallowed hard. When he had gone to deliver the pastries just now, he had seen the young master sitting properly in the Plain Sedan Chair, but there was a pool of blood on the ground. His legs had gone weak with fright on the spot, and he’d wanted to go find Steward Wang.
But the young master had called out to stop him, ordering him to clean up the ground afterward and not to tell anyone about what he had seen. That look, that tone—it made his legs go even weaker. He’d run out trembling and only felt a bit better once he was outside.
He forced a smile onto his face: “R-rosy, he’s fine…”
That blood all over the ground—it was more than rosy. The young master’s wound must have split open, and yet he acted like nothing was wrong. Impressive, really.
Chu Mingse and Chu Qingyuan were relieved to hear this and happily walked home hand in hand.
Chu Qingyuan praised Chu Mingse lavishly: “Sese is amazing! You know, back then your mother and I took turns trying, and your Brother Xuetuan wouldn’t accept a single thing. You went over a few times, and now he’s willing to accept our family’s pastries.”
Chu Mingse shook her head proudly, and said modestly: “It’s because Mother’s pastries smell so delicious. And I also have Father to thank for teaching me to write!”
“Then tonight Father will cook a few extra dishes to celebrate Sese’s achievement!”
Chu Mingse raised both hands high and cheered out loud.
She felt that maybe she could push her luck and take it one step further!
The next day, Chu Mingse first asked whether Pei Zhaoxue’s fall from yesterday hurt. The only response she got was two words on a note: “I’m fine.”
She then leaned by the window and chattered on for a while, when suddenly she clapped her hands together and said, “Oh dear, Mother asked me to head home early today to help her. I’ll be going now.”
She lifted her feet and pattered on the spot, running in place for a few steps. As she “ran,” she gradually slowed her pace, creating the illusion that she was already growing distant, until she finally came to a complete stop, held her breath, and crouched by the window to wait.
The little wooden figurine she had left by the window, along with two sugar melons wrapped in rice paper… had all vanished by the time she came back the next day. She was certain that Brother Xuetuan must have opened the window and taken them after she left. If she just waited there for a while, she might catch him opening the window.
After a long while, just as Chu Mingse was beginning to think she wouldn’t catch Brother Xuetuan opening the window today, the window suddenly pushed open from the inside.
Chu Mingse had no time to dodge and got bonked square on the head.
Author’s note:
None