The instant the window slid open, Pei Zhaoxue caught a glimpse of a fuzzy little head through the gap.
He was startled, instinctively easing his grip and trying to pull the window shut, but it was already too late.
Bang! A muffled whimper came from outside as the figure clutched her nose, tears quickly welling up in her scrunched eyes.
Pei Zhaoxue’s pupils trembled. He braced himself against the table, instinctively wanting to lean out and check on her.
The moment his legs failed to support him, the image of his clumsy fall from yesterday flashed through his mind.
The phantom pain of his injury struck without warning. He clenched the corner of the table, his fingertips digging deep into the wood, adding a few more scratches to its surface.
“You’ll be a cripple from now on!”
“In this state, what’s the point of living?”
“Useless thing, get out!”
A buzzing filled his ears—the voices that haunted him day and night echoed once more, reminding him that he was already a cripple, useless to the world, and cared for by no one.
No… stop saying that!
Lies, all lies—get out of my head!
He gritted his teeth, veins bulging at his temples, a bloody tint seeping into his eyes as if he were falling into a fog-shrouded abyss.
“Oh! You finally agreed to see me!”
A voice brimming with delight pierced through the layers of mist, dragging his consciousness back from the chaos.
The window, usually kept tightly shut, now stood open, letting unobstructed light pour in—the world bright and clear.
A cheerful little head popped up over the windowsill, twin buns tied with red cords adorned with pearls that gleamed softly in the sunlight.
Chu Mingse covered her nose, tears still swirling in her eyes, on the verge of spilling, yet she lifted her head in delight, staring with round, wide eyes into the open window.
Through her tear-blurred vision, she vaguely made out the beautiful face she had glimpsed in the alley that day. The soft, shimmering tears cast a gentle glow over his features, like flowers seen through mist—so captivating that Chu Mingse couldn’t look away.
So handsome.
Even the dull ache in her nose seemed to fade away.
Pei Zhaoxue met her joy-filled gaze and frowned in confusion. Was she happy because she saw him?
He looked at her hands covering her nose and parted his lips softly: “Your nose…”
His voice hadn’t changed much from yesterday—still low, hoarse, and muffled.
“I’m fine, see.” Chu Mingse gripped the window frame with both hands, straining onto her tiptoes as she leaned her head toward Pei Zhaoxue. “No nosebleed!”
Indeed, no nosebleed—but the tip of her nose was bright red, and her eyes were rimmed with red from the rising tears, looking rather pitiful.
But she had already forgotten the pain entirely. Spotting that Pei Zhaoxue seemed somewhat worried about her, she cautiously proposed a bolder request: “Can I come in?”
Stared at with those wet, pleading eyes, the words “no” lingered in his throat but never came out. Pei Zhaoxue hesitated for a moment, neither nodding nor shaking his head.
Not refusing—to Chu Mingse, that meant consent.
“Thank you!” Afraid he might change his mind, she thanked him while eagerly pushing off the ground with both feet, grabbing the window frame with her hands, and using all her strength to climb in through the window. “You just sit tight—no need to trouble yourself opening the door for me.”
“…” Pei Zhaoxue silently swallowed the words “the door is over there.” He lowered the hand he had intended to use to point the way and watched as she scrambled through the window using both her hands and feet. She crouched awkwardly on the windowsill, glancing left and right at the desk piled high with scrolls, unable to find a place to step.
Pei Zhaoxue moved a few scrolls in front of her to the side.
Chu Mingse shot him a delighted look. Not only had he nodded to let her in, but he had even helped clear a spot for her to land; he must surely welcome her!
She obediently knelt in the cleared space on the desk, looking like a delicate and lovely little jade carving.
Chu Mingse pressed her lips together, but her restrained joy leaked entirely from her crescent-moon eyes, which sparkled as she looked at Pei Zhaoxue.
The moisture in her eyes had evaporated, and her clear gaze finally captured his features from a close distance. His increasingly pale complexion made his ink-black brows and eyes stand out, making him look even more like a wash-painting beauty meticulously sketched on a page.
Eleven or twelve was an age where gender characteristics were often blurred, yet Pei Zhaoxue’s beauty was so sharp that his gender was unmistakable. His deep black eyes were like bottomless abysses, always listless and rippleless, possessing a frigidness that far exceeded his years.
The servants in the manor would bow their heads in terror and tremble in their boots the moment he glanced at them. Even Steward Wang couldn’t withstand his gaze; after being driven away several times, he didn’t dare approach him again.
Chu Mingse, however, wasn’t intimidated at all. Like a puppy finally permitted to enter human territory, she tilted her chin up slightly, looking proud and excited as if waiting for praise. “I’m very good at climbing windows. After you blocked the dog hole, I’ve been scaling walls and climbing trees to get in!”
If she had a tail, it would surely be wagging so fast that only a blur remained.
Pei Zhaoxue: “…”
Pei Zhaoxue truly didn’t know what to say. Having grown up behind the high gates of the Pei estate, he had never seen a young lady who scaled walls, climbed trees, and crawled through dog holes—let alone one who bragged about it so proudly.
Judging by her behavior over the past few days, it seemed as though her parents had tacitly approved of it.
He had originally intended to ignore her, treating her with coldness in hopes that she would take the hint and leave. But who knew she would be this persistent? It was one thing for her to disturb his peace every day, but she had actually ambushed him beneath the window, catching him completely off guard.
He had no other choice but to let her in.
Today, he was determined to make things clear to her so that she would stop bothering him in the future.
Seeing that he wasn’t speaking, Chu Mingse feared he might realize what was happening and make her return the way she came. Taking advantage of his apparent contemplation, she reached out and neatly stacked the scrolls on the edge of the desk, stepped lightly off the table, and produced a small handkerchief to carefully wipe clean the spot she had climbed through.
“Brother Xuetuan, don’t worry, I won’t cause you any trouble.” While her hands were busy, her eyes darted around the room, taking everything in. “I just came to see if you’re doing well.”
She still remembered her father and mother saying that Brother Xuetuan’s mother had asked them to look after him, so naturally, she had to see if he was faring well.
The room faced south, which was an excellent orientation; at this hour, it should have been filled with sunlight. However, the window lattices on all four sides were densely covered with sheets of xuan paper filled with large characters, blocking half the light.
The handwriting on the paper was chaotic and wild, like ghostly figures peering down from all directions at the person within.
The bamboo shadows swaying outside the window should have formed an elegant view, but against the dim, gloomy light, they inexplicably took on a ghostly air.
Chu Mingse looked around, drew in a sharp breath, and drew her hands clutching the handkerchief back to her chest. If she were to sleep in this room, she feared she would have nightmares every single night.
Her gaze shifted and met Pei Zhaoxue’s icy, snow-like eyes. His bloodless lips parted slightly, and his voice was cold: “I do not know you. Why do you keep visiting?”
Chu Mingse leaned close to his ear and whispered, “My father and mother were good friends with your mother. She asked them to look after you.”
A faint flicker passed through Pei Zhaoxue’s brow.
When he had left the capital, the rainstorm had not yet ceased. After his severe injury, he had run a high fever for days, his body still damp with heat, and in a daze he had been carried onto the carriage.
His mother’s sobs had wrapped around his neck like unbroken strands of silk. The harder he struggled to open his eyes, the more suffocated he felt.
“Send him away… The Pei family… cannot keep him…”
Why must I be sent away? Mother, do you not believe I did nothing wrong either?
Mother, do not abandon me, do not leave me alone…
He reached out to grasp something, but all his hand met was cold air.
The jolting of the carriage as it departed knocked down his outstretched hand.
He no longer had a single person he could trust.
Was writing to old friends to ask them to look after him just a way to ease the guilt of abandoning him?
Pei Zhaoxue’s expression turned three degrees colder. “We are strangers. I am but a useless cripple—how dare I trouble you all to bother yourselves.”
Meanwhile, Chu Mingse had already quietly coaxed herself into getting used to this gloomy room and was now leaning over to study the teapot on his table, taking all his cold words as if they were wind past her ears, fretting on her own:
“It’s so cold—your tea is all cold! Mother said that at this time of year, you should drink more warm things to keep your stomach cozy. You can’t start craving cold things just because the weather is warming up.”
Pei Zhaoxue: “…I said, no need to trouble yourselves. I should not have fallen so far as to need a child to manage my daily affairs.”
“Then can my father and mother come to see you?” Chu Mingse poked her head forward excitedly.
“…” Pei Zhaoxue closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “I do not need you to look after me.”
“Then can I be friends with you?” Chu Mingse changed her approach—friends helping each other was perfectly normal.
“I do not need friends.” Pei Zhaoxue refused coldly.
“Then just treat me as your little sister.” Chu Mingse propped her chin on both hands and smiled at him. “I’ve wanted a big brother for a long time. How about this—I’ll call you Brother Xuetuan, and you call me Little Sister Sese.”
She happily bounced on her toes, daydreaming with delight: “From now on, we can defeat the twin sisters from Wutong Lane next door and become the most beautiful sibling pair in Shuijin Town.”
Pei Zhaoxue: “…”
Who wants to be siblings with you? And what on earth is a “sibling pair”?
For the first time in days, without any phantom pain or hallucinations, Pei Zhaoxue felt a splitting headache.
He couldn’t help but start recalling what he had been doing at Chu Mingse’s age—had he been this clingy, this oblivious to the mood?
A book was pushed in front of him. Chu Mingse seemed to think that his silence meant he had accepted her proposal, and she radiated a cheerful aura.
“Brother Xuetuan, you go ahead and read. I can play by myself and won’t disturb you.” She said it with great conviction.
Pei Zhaoxue had spoken more today than he had in the past three months combined. Wearily, he unrolled the book, thinking to himself, whatever, he would just continue ignoring her. It couldn’t get any worse.
For the next stretch of time, Chu Mingse was remarkably well-behaved, not saying a single word to Pei Zhaoxue. She only tiptoed in small steps around the room, gently peeling off the paper pasted over the window lattice and carefully setting it aside.
All the paper had been put up by Pei Zhaoxue himself. For the highest spots, Chu Mingse had to give a little jump, stretching as far as she could to barely reach them.
She made every effort to keep her movements quiet, not making much noise, but Pei Zhaoxue’s heart couldn’t settle.
Another person’s breathing, footsteps, the rustle of fabric as she moved—all of it filled the silent space that had once been his alone. Every tiny sound brushed against his ears like a feather, the faint tickle making him deeply uncomfortable.
He shouldn’t have let her in. So annoying.
Author’s note:
None.