“I am already a useless cripple…”
After hiding the rice paper bearing Pei Zhaoxue’s handwriting, the “little thief” guiltily began to pretend she was very busy—smoothing out the already perfectly flat sheets of paper, moving her personal inkstone carved with a little rabbit from the left side of the desk to the right, then reaching over to touch Pei Zhaoxue’s ink stick beside her.
His ink smelled faintly fragrant.
Chu Mingse leaned in just a little, the tip of her nose twitching as she took a careful sniff.
“The ink has borneol, cloves, and spikenard added to it. It helps clear the mind and refresh the spirit.” Pei Zhaoxue’s gaze never left the book in his hands, yet he accurately answered Chu Mingse’s unspoken question.
None of the three members of the Chu family were particularly devoted to poetry and literature, so they had never bothered to purchase the finer quality ink that refined scholars favored. This was the first time Chu Mingse had seen such an ink stick—one that even bore an exquisitely carved landscape painting upon its surface.
Chu Mingse took another curious glance at it. She didn’t dare move around too much and disturb Pei Zhaoxue’s reading, but after practicing her calligraphy for a while, her hand had grown sore, and she wanted to rest for a bit.
So she began to secretly steal glances at Pei Zhaoxue from the side.
The fluffy little chestnut was pillowed on his left arm, fast asleep with a small pink tongue lolling out. Pei Zhaoxue sat with perfect posture, his left arm completely still, turning the pages with only his right hand.
Because the young lady who used to crouch outside the window was now seated properly beside him, the window before the desk no longer seemed to need closing. It was now thrown wide open, letting the daylight outside pour in freely, warming the little chestnut’s belly.
Pei Zhaoxue’s refined profile was on full display, and the dust motes floating in the sunlight looked like glittering flecks of gold.
Chu Mingse suddenly noticed that his jet-black hair was tied back with nothing more than a simple black ribbon.
She blinked, guessing that Brother Xuetuan, like herself, probably didn’t know how to style his hair properly. And since he didn’t allow servants to come near him, he could only use a tie to keep his hair in place.
If he could use a beautiful hairpin to secure his hair, it would surely look wonderful!
When she returned home that evening, Chu Mingse pulled her mother aside and asked to be taught how to tie her hair into a bun. She clumsily fashioned two loose buns on her head, and Qu He smiled as she praised her for learning so quickly.
She felt immensely proud, her eyes and brows brimming with self-satisfaction.
Having decided that she had achieved some modest skill in the art of hair-bundling, she trotted off with her freshly styled buns to join her father in making the Plain Sedan Chair.
Chu Qingyuan naturally wouldn’t dare let her handle sharp tools like an axe. Instead, he placed the ink marker in her hand, covering her small hand with his large one, guiding her to pull the ink line taut and snap a perfectly straight line onto the wood.
“When snapping the line, you must be careful—the line has to be straight, so the cut can be accurate. Do you understand?”
Chu Mingse nodded eagerly and, following the pattern Chu Qingyuan had drawn, made a line of her own. Gradually, she began to work in smooth coordination with her father.
The blue-brick floor was piled high with soft golden wood shavings, and the fragrance of timber filled the air.
Chu Qingyuan then carefully explained to her how to construct the mortise-and-tenon joints for the Plain Sedan Chair. “There are two types of tenons: exposed tenons and hidden tenons. Exposed tenons have their heads visible on the surface, but they interlock tightly and are more secure. Hidden tenons are more aesthetically pleasing—the wood surface remains smooth and even, with no tenon head visible. However, they require much higher precision in the depth and angle of both the tenon and the mortise. A single fraction off in either direction won’t do, or the pieces won’t fit together.”
“For the main frame of the Plain Sedan Chair, we’ll use exposed tenon joints for better load-bearing. For visible parts that come into frequent contact with the body, like armrests and backrest panels, we’ll use hidden tenon joints to ensure a smooth, even surface.”
Chu Qingyuan usually took more orders for wood carving, since compared to most carpentry work, carved wooden crafts were more profitable. But he enjoyed studying mortise-and-tenon joinery, and for items of all sizes around the house, he would make them himself whenever possible. So building the Plain Sedan Chair now wasn’t unfamiliar work for him.
Chu Mingse nodded seriously. Although she couldn’t work on it herself, she watched her father’s movements and memorized the principles of the mortise-and-tenon structure. Later, she could tell Brother Zhaoxue all about how hard she and her father had worked on the Plain Sedan Chair, and make sure he took good care of his health!
That day, they only made the necessary components. There were many leftover scraps of wood from cutting, and Chu Mingse picked through them, selecting a few pieces. “Father, can I take these?”
Chu Qingyuan didn’t even look up, smiling as he replied, “Go ahead.”
Chu Mingse had always liked using leftover scraps to carve little wooden figures, small animals, and other ornaments, so Chu Qingyuan didn’t ask what she planned to do with them.
Chu Mingse happily carried the few pieces of wood away.
Because she was eager to finish the Plain Sedan Chair as soon as possible, Chu Mingse was no longer the sleepy girl she used to be. She rose early the next morning and followed Chu Qingyuan into the woodworking shop to busy herself.
There wasn’t much she could help with yet—mainly Chu Qingyuan did the work while she supervised from the side.
After a busy morning and a midday nap, she planned to go find Pei Zhaoxue as usual.
The moment she opened the door, she saw Lin Ergou standing against the wall like he was being punished.
Lin Ergou was muttering something under his breath. Hearing the door open, he snapped his head up. Seeing Chu Mingse looking at him, he hurried forward two steps and called out hesitantly, “Sese.”
He had handsome, well-defined features, and his skin was a healthy tan from running around outdoors all day, which made him look even more full of life. With his long arms and legs, he was already starting to look like a young man. He was usually the biggest troublemaker in Denghua Village, the one who gave adults the most headaches. But now he stood dejectedly before a girl a head shorter than him, his lips moving a few times without managing to get a single word out.
Chu Mingse hugged her small bundle and looked at him, giving a soft “mm” in acknowledgment as a greeting. Then she tightened her little face and looked at him with expectant eyes. “What do you want to say?”
She hoped he had come to admit his mistake, so she could happily talk to him again.
Lin Ergou said in a muffled voice, “I know I was wrong. I shouldn’t have said those things about Young Master Pei.”
His brows drooped as he reluctantly confessed his feelings: “I just saw how close you two were, like you didn’t care about me anymore, and I got angry. I ran off without thinking. Will you forgive me?”
His bright black eyes looked at Chu Mingse with hope and nervousness.
Seeing his sincere attitude, Chu Mingse also breathed a sigh of relief. She wanted to pat his shoulder to comfort him, but realized he had grown so tall that she couldn’t reach it anymore. So she patted his forearm instead and said, “You’re both very important friends to me. I never stopped caring about you.”
Then, she grew serious again. “Brother Xuetuan hurt his leg, and that’s already a terrible thing. Saying those things about him was really wrong. Think about it—if you hurt your leg and couldn’t walk, and someone said that about you, wouldn’t you be upset?”
Lin Ergou followed her words and imagined himself unable to run through the streets, climb trees, or scale walls anymore… The thought had barely surfaced before his heart sank, and an inexplicable panic sent a chill down his spine.
He was silent for a moment, then suddenly looked up, gazing at Chu Mingse with pleading eyes, his voice dropping low. “Then… if I hurt my leg, would you protect me like you protect him?”
“Of course I would.” Chu Mingse nodded without hesitation, a smile blooming on her face again. “Mother said that knowing your mistakes and correcting them makes you a good child. Come on, you need to apologize to Brother Xuetuan, and then we can officially make up!”
Lin Ergou felt a little lighter in his heart. He took out the apology gift wrapped in oil paper from behind him and followed Chu Mingse step by step into the Pei estate.
“I’m sorry, Lord Pei. Last time, I was rash and spoke nonsense. Please forgive me!”
Lin Ergou bowed respectfully before Pei Zhaoxue.
Pei Zhaoxue’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, but he said nothing, only giving a slight nod and accepting the gift, as if to let the matter pass.
With that settled, Lin Ergou lingered instead of leaving right away. He looked at Chu Mingse, wanting to invite her out to play.
At that moment, Pei Zhaoxue spoke calmly, though his words were directed at the attendant beside him. “See Young Master Lin out.”
His tone was even, but it was unmistakably a dismissal.
Though he felt guilty for his earlier words, seeing Pei Zhaoxue’s cold and distant demeanor stirred an inexplicable irritation in Lin Ergou. He turned his face away, deliberately ignoring the other’s presence, and looked at Chu Mingse instead. “Sese, we…”
Pei Zhaoxue’s gaze also fell quietly on Chu Mingse.
“I’m going to practice calligraphy with Brother Xuetuan. Go play with Ah Hua!” Chu Mingse refused decisively. Until Brother Xuetuan was willing to go out, she certainly couldn’t leave him behind to go play by herself.
Lin Ergou’s face fell with disappointment, but he could only scratch his head. “Alright… I’ll come find you another day.”
The room fell silent again, and the two busied themselves as they had the day before—one practicing calligraphy, the other reading.
Chu Mingse bit the end of her brush, recalling that when she entered the courtyard today, Steward Wang had come to greet her personally, his face full of worry as he said, “Miss, could you persuade our young master to see a physician? Perhaps his leg can still be treated!”
How should she bring it up?
A gentle tug pulled the brush from her hand. Pei Zhaoxue frowned slightly, glancing at the faint teeth marks on the brush handle. “Something on your mind?”
Oh, an opportunity had presented itself! Chu Mingse quickly relayed Steward Wang’s request to him.
“I already saw physicians in the capital. Why bother again?” Pei Zhaoxue curled his lips listlessly. “I’m already a useless cripple. Seeing more would be futile.”
“Who says so!” Chu Mingse immediately retorted, puffing her cheeks and glaring at him—even if Pei Zhaoxue was speaking ill of himself, she wouldn’t stand for it. “There are so many physicians in the world. Just because one couldn’t heal you doesn’t mean none of them can! Maybe there’s some reclusive miracle doctor who could cure your leg!”
“Besides, even if—even if your legs can’t be healed, you’ve read so many books that you can still do plenty of things. For instance… you could teach at the town’s academy, or write your own books!”
A faint ripple stirred in Pei Zhaoxue’s eyes, but his expression grew even more indifferent.
He loathed it when others urged him to look on the bright side at moments like this—if they had never endured his suffering, what right did they have to offer glib words of comfort?
Yet Chu Mingse continued, “But… maybe you don’t want others making decisions for you in the name of ‘it’s for your own good.'” She paused, then said softly, “Mother says that true care means respecting the other person’s choices. So no matter what you ultimately decide about seeing a doctor, I’ll support you!”
“I believe in you—I’m sure you won’t make a decision you’ll regret!”
She blinked and saw Brother Xuetuan’s expression go blank for a moment.
Father was always using this kind of tactic, and in the end she’d always willingly go along with whatever he wanted, all while thinking she was being so decisive. Mother said she was being “hijacked” by Father. Since “hijacking” was so effective, she naturally wanted to try it on Brother Xuetuan too.
Afraid that staying any longer might ruin the effect of her “hijacking,” she took her leave of Pei Zhaoxue promptly and trotted out the door.
Steward Wang, who had been waiting anxiously outside, hurried over when he saw her emerge.
Chu Mingse pressed her index finger to her lips, gave a soft “shh,” and pulled Steward Wang a few steps away before lowering her voice. “I’ve talked to him. Give Brother Xuetuan a few days to think it over. I’m sure he’ll come around.”
The night was deep, and in the silence of all things, the phantom pain at his injury surged like a tide, leaving Pei Zhaoxue tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
Scenes of the beating flashed through his mind again and again—the blood that even the torrential rain couldn’t wash away flowed endlessly before his eyes.
His father’s resolute gaze held a cruelty he had never seen before; his mother’s tearful pleas carried boundless despair.
The woman who had moved into the Pei residence with her son, who was only a few years younger than him, wore a smug smile when no one was looking; the servants’ furtive whispers; the harsh laughter and gossip in the streets when he left the capital… countless eyes and voices wove into a net, trapping him tightly.
He had once been the proudest son of the Pei family, the favored child of heaven renowned throughout the capital.
In a single moment, everything collapsed, and he fell from the clouds into the mud.
He could only bury himself in old books, escaping the world’s condemnation in illusory poetry and classics, letting himself slowly sink into despair.
But she said, “I believe in you.”
Trust. What a precious word.
Even his own parents had been stingy with it.
Suddenly, he didn’t want to disappoint her.
Tomorrow.
When she came tomorrow, he would tell her his decision.
Knowing that Chu Mingse wouldn’t arrive until after her afternoon nap, Pei Zhaoxue still couldn’t sit still. After lunch, he sat at his desk practicing calligraphy to calm his mind, waiting for her to come.
But the familiar figure never appeared.
Before Chu Mingse had come into his life, he had been accustomed to solitude day after day. Yet now, the quiet beneath the eaves felt strange, and even the sound of wind rustling through bamboo leaves seemed unusually loud.
He set down his brush and, for the first time, summoned Steward Wang on his own initiative, his voice carrying a note of tension. “Go check next door… see if something has happened at the Chu household today.”
Steward Wang knew that while his master spoke of the Chu household, what he really wanted to know was why Chu Mingse hadn’t come. He hurried off at once. When he returned, drenched in sweat, his expression was also one of confusion.
“Young master, the Chu residence’s doors are tightly shut. I knocked for quite a while but no one answered—it seems no one is home. On my way back, I ran into Young Master Lin and Miss Dong, and they said they hadn’t seen Miss Chu either.”
Pei Zhaoxue’s brow twitched sharply.
Author’s note:
The knowledge about mortise-and-tenon joints is partly sourced from Baidu and reference books (such as The Carpenter). There may be inaccuracies—please don’t take it too seriously.