At this time, the sky over the Zhao State was dark and gloomy, and heavy snow fell like goose feathers, blanketing the earth.
The entire city of Handan was shrouded in a layer of greyish-dark hues.
At half-past one in the afternoon, the maid Congyun pulled back the bed curtains of the family head’s only daughter. “Little Lady, wake up! Something terrible has happened.”
Inside the curtains, a little girl as delicate as carved jade was curled up in a vermilion quilt. She was about four or five years old and was sleeping soundly. The charcoal fire in the room was burning brightly, making her small, pale face flush a rosy pink. Her long, feathery eyelashes lowered obediently, fluttering with every breath.
Seeing this, Congyun peeled back the red quilt, leaned in close, and whispered softly, “Little Lady, Little Lady! Your cousin has returned home injured, and Yueji is punishing him by making him kneel outside in the long corridor!”
Hearing this, the little girl suddenly bolted upright in bed, rubbing her eyes while half-asleep. “What?!”
Congyun hurriedly took a warm cloth to wipe her face, served her while she dressed and put on her shoes, and then led her out by her small hand.
Along the way, as Congyun explained the situation, Banban felt extremely frustrated.
“Did my cousin get into another fight?”
Banban’s concern for her cousin wasn’t entirely out of pure affection.
Her cousin was a diligent and studious person, and his presence had forced her to become “competitive” as well.
After lunch, she had heard he had gone out, so she had seized the opportunity to take a nap. She hadn’t expected that so soon after, “dire news” would arrive. She hadn’t even finished sleeping yet, and being a person who loved to linger in bed, she usually couldn’t get up without lounging for at least half an hour after waking.
That clever maid had actually used news of her cousin to bait her, making her snap awake instantly.
Thinking of this, Banban puffed out her cheeks in annoyance.
Congyun nodded. “Little Lady, when you see Yueji later, you mustn’t complain about being tired. You’ve already slacked off for three days.” The little master had been interested when she first started learning music and dance, but as time passed, she grew impatient. However, Yueji had always been strict, so the maid was currently full of worry.
Banban shrank her neck back guiltily. “Nonsense, I’ve always been diligent. Aunt won’t punish me.”
Outside the corridor, snow flew through the air, turning the world into a blur of grey and white.
The Ji family had a large estate and was a well-known wealthy merchant family in Handan. Naturally, the house they lived in was also large. By the time they finished walking, Banban was thoroughly awake, no matter how sleepy she had been.
When they arrived at Ji Changyue’s courtyard, sure enough, a dim figure was kneeling outside the house. As the snow swirled around him, he was covered in white from head to toe.
His black hair hung damp and disheveled behind his shoulders, like a pitiful small beast in the snow. Yet, his back remained ramrod straight, and he knelt there without moving an inch.
“Cousin,” Banban called to him in a small voice, raising her tiny hand to use her sleeve as a shield over his head.
His lowered eyelashes trembled slightly, and he then raised his eyes.
“Oh! How did you hurt your face?” What a waste of such a beautiful thing!
Her cousin had the most beautiful face; even at a young age, he had long brows, a high bridge to his nose, and well-defined features. Though he was still young, one could already see how exceptionally handsome he would be in the future.
Now, there were several conspicuous scratches, which stung a bright red in the cold.
“Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?”
Banban huffed and pulled her sleeve back. “I did not! I’m caring about you.” To prove herself, she pinched her sleeve and affectionately wiped his face, which was covered in melted snow. Unexpectedly, she ended up with a sleeve full of dirt.
Banban immediately slapped at her sleeve. This was her favorite winter outfit lately. “Why didn’t you wash up when you came home?”
Ying Zheng acted as if he didn’t see her look of disgust and ignored her.
As the two were talking, Ji Changyue appeared under the eaves of the corridor and scolded coldly, “Chengyin, come over here.”
Banban obeyed submissively, patting her way over to the shelter of the eaves.
Chengyin was Banban’s formal name; her full name was Ji Chengyin. Ji Changyue was her father’s younger sister.
Banban had heard her mother speak about this aunt. She said that Ji Changyue had once been a precious daughter of the Ji family, skilled in song and dance. She had married a merchant surnamed Lu, who was shrewd and clever. Not long after, that merchant had given the aunt to a man named Yiren.
Her cousin was the son of her aunt and Yiren. They had thought they would live a happy life, but the good times didn’t last. The Zhao State was faring poorly in the war and planned to kill Yiren to vent their anger. Yiren then fled with the merchant Lu, abandoning the aunt and her cousin.
The aunt and her cousin had lived a hard life as fugitives for a while before they had no choice but to return to the aunt’s maiden home. Banban’s father hid the mother and son, allowing them to escape the pursuit.
Her mother always cursed the man surnamed Lu as a piece of trash. Her father was henpecked and would only nod along submissively, never uttering a word of agreement.
Banban had been confused by it all. Why did the Zhao State want to kill her aunt’s husband? When she asked for details, her mother would only say that she shouldn’t listen to such messy affairs.
Ji Changyue knelt down and brushed the snow off Banban’s hair and body. “Chengyin is a good, obedient girl. We won’t rank ourselves among those useless cowards.”
These words were truly biting, laden with intense fury.
Banban was mostly covered by Ji Changyue’s cloak, so she peeked out with half her face to look at Ying Zheng.
The boy kneeling in the corridor tightened his lips even more, and his back grew even straighter. His shoulders were shivering, like a cornered beast struggling in the curtain of snow.
She felt he was pitiful, so she tugged on Ji Changyue’s cloak to plead for him. “Aunt, it’s snowing so hard. Let my cousin come inside to warm up, okay?”
“What if he gets sick? Then he won’t be able to practice martial arts.”
Ji Changyue’s expression softened slightly, and she fell silent.
Fifteen minutes later, the charcoal fire was burning brightly. Ying Zheng had changed into clean clothes and sat down while Congyun dried his hair.
Ji Changyue said indifferently, “Zheng’er, do you know why Mother is angry?”
Ying Zheng’s hand, hidden under his sleeve, clenched into a fist. He said in a low voice, “I didn’t win.”
He was clearly a six-year-old child, but he loved to act with the maturity of an adult. His childish voice paired with his calm expression caused Banban to glance at him repeatedly.
“It’s more than just not winning!” Ji Changyue said sharply. “You are different from those people. One day, your father will surely bring us back. If you can’t even compare to these commoners, what will you do when you return? Where will there be a place for us as mother and son by your father’s side then?”
Ji Changyue was a proud woman who rarely shed tears, but now her eyes were rimmed with red. She poked Ying Zheng’s head as if frustrated that he wasn’t meeting her expectations. “You must make something of yourself!”
Perhaps because he had fallen ill from the cold air, his body trembled violently.
Ji Changyue suddenly pulled her son into her arms. “It’s all Mother’s fault for not being able to give you more, leading my son through such displacement and hiding, nearly losing our lives several times. Now, I can’t even hire a decent teacher for you!”
Faced with this scene of a parent scolding a child, Banban lowered her head awkwardly, retracting her hand that had been reaching for a milk cake on the table.
As she looked down, she saw her cousin’s hand under his sleeve, clenching so hard that streaks of fresh red blood appeared.
Beside them, Congyun wrung out the towel, focused on her work, pretending she hadn’t heard any of it.
Because they were worried about whether Ying Zheng would get sick, and because the mother and son had important things to discuss, Banban did not continue her dance and song practice that afternoon.
At dinner, she recounted these events to her mother and father as a piece of news.
Lady Zhu put down her chopsticks, her expression subtle. “Did she really say that?”
“Yes,” Banban said, dissatisfied. “Congyun was there too. I’m not lying.”
Ji Xiu sighed. “Never mind. I’ll hire a teacher for Zheng’er tomorrow. I’ll go and look for one personally.”
Lady Zhu slammed her chopsticks onto the table. “I knew she wasn’t simple. Could someone who was the wife of Lord Yiren be any kind of pushover? Without us even noticing, she’s started playing her tricks, counting on the fact that our Banban is soft-hearted to use her like this!”
Banban froze, not understanding. “Mother?”
Ji Xiu shook his head. “Madam, there’s no need to be angry. Zheng’er is indeed different.”
Lady Zhu’s palm stung from the impact, but she remembered to serve Banban a bowl of meat stew, her voice still indignant. “But our family hasn’t mistreated them. We let her teach Banban dance and song—and she was the one who suggested it! No one forced her. Does she think I’m looking down on her?”
“How could my sister think that?” Ji Xiu had a headache and told Lady Zhu she was overthinking. “She’s just frustrated with her son. He’s her only child; what else can she do but hope he succeeds? Her future depends on him, so naturally, she has high expectations. It’s normal for her to be a bit impatient. I’ll handle it.”
Banban had heard these kinds of words so many times she had calluses on her ears. She couldn’t understand how her cousin was “different.” Was it just a matter of wanting him to be a success?
In her past life, she had been in a car accident and underwent womb-transmigration into this ancient world. An infant has little energy and a slow-developing brain, so she had spent her days eating and sleeping. She had truly been like a newborn child, remembering nothing of her past life. As she grew older year by year, fragmented memories began to return at a snail’s pace. Now, she only remembered that she had originally been ten years old, her parents had died, and she had lived a lonely life in an orphanage. Other details were blurry, as if covered by a veil, and she couldn’t think of them clearly.
After eating, she went to find Ying Zheng.
The lamp was lit on the candle stand, and he was memorizing his lessons.
“Cousin, did you apply medicine?” She put down a plate of fruit. “The attendants bought these this afternoon. They’re fresh. Have some.”
Ying Zheng didn’t look back, and the sound of his reciting continued like a low hum.
Banban glared at his back. Why are you working so hard? You’re making me look like a lazy glutton.
Clutching two fruits, she waddled over and tried to shove them directly into his mouth.
Unfortunately, her “scheme” failed.
Ying Zheng grabbed her wrist, his brow furrowed. “Banban, I’m not eating.”
He spoke seriously, a hint of warning in his eyes, the red marks on his cheeks appearing even more vivid.
Banban held the fruit, suppressing the urge to poke at the marks. ” I’m just caring about you, Cousin. How can you study if you aren’t full? Aunt isn’t good to you, but I am.”
Besides, what was so great about memorizing bamboo slips?
If he didn’t rest, with this “good example” before her, she would only be forced to follow suit.
Ying Zheng glanced at her. “Really?”
With just that faint glance, she felt as if her schemes had been seen through.
Banban curled her lip in annoyance before hiding it and diligently offering the fruit to his mouth again. “Have one, Cousin. They’re delicious. Just one, and then I won’t bother you anymore.”
These fruits were delicious; once he ate one, he’d want a second.
Ying Zheng ate it from her small hand. The fruit burst in his mouth, sweet and tart. Since he had complied, he ignored Banban’s flailing feet and forcibly picked her up, placing her on the small couch nearby. “Stay quiet, or I’ll throw you out.”
“Cousin is mean,” Banban grumbled, but he remained completely unmoved.
The sound of his recitation continued. Banban sat with her hands on her hips, staring intently at the plate beside him. The pale yellow fruits lay there in a pile.
Fifteen minutes later, Banban was nodding off like a chick pecking at grain.
Her forehead hit the low table with a thud, waking her up.
Her cousin hadn’t touched a single fruit.
He was no longer reciting but was quietly writing something with a brush.
Banban mumbled something, slumped over, and fell back asleep.
The room was warm, and she slept cozily. In a daze, she felt someone cover her with a quilt. Was it Congyun?
Because she had gone to sleep early, she woke up at the Hour of the Tiger (between 3:00 and 5:00 AM).
Outside, the snow had stopped, and the sound of punches could be heard.
She hopped off the couch, grabbed a handful of fruit, and chewed them messily as she pulled back the heavy curtain to head outside.
The young boy, dressed in simple black robes, was drenched in sweat. His moves were ones he had memorized and learned silently from watching others. They weren’t formal, but they were powerful, as if he wanted to vent all the hostility and gloom growing in his chest.
Banban froze for a moment, wondering if he hadn’t slept at all or if he had simply woken up this early.
No wonder, even though he was only a six-year-old child, he could pick her up so easily and still have the strength to keep her from acting up.