Huang Xuejian gave an awkward smile and returned to sit beside Li Baozhu.
Li Yuanzhou quietly leaned in close to Li Juechen’s ear and lowered his voice. “Third Brother, word is you’ve hidden a beauty away all to yourself. Why haven’t you brought her out to meet anyone?”
At those words, the calm depths of Li Juechen’s eyes shifted faintly, a flicker of tenderness passing through — so faint it was barely noticeable — before his expression hardened back to its usual composure. He spoke in a stern, warning tone. “You’ve been gone two months, yet your ears are remarkably sharp. Mind your own business. Ask not what you ought not ask, and breathe no word of this to anyone, do you hear me? She is timid by nature, and I will not have her placed in danger.”
Li Yuanzhou’s gaze drifted toward Huang Xuejian, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Fair enough. If word were to reach that one that you’ve taken a woman, your little darling might never see the sun rise tomorrow!”
A cold, piercing glint flashed in Li Juechen’s deep, sharp eyes. “If anyone dares harm her, I shall exterminate their entire family.”
“Third Brother, now you’ve only made me all the more curious. What manner of woman could possibly earn such fierce protection from you?”
Li Yuanzhou had grown up alongside his third brother; no one knew his character better. Of the three women present, aside from Li Baozhu, were not the other two utterly infatuated with him? Yet for all these years, he had never once deigned to spare them a glance. He rarely set foot in a dance hall such as this; were it not for his fondness for the woman in question, the Third Young Master would not have crossed the threshold at all.
Who would have thought that the wild, untamable Li Juechen would one day stand guard so fiercely over a single woman?
Seeing his brother fall silent, Li Yuanzhou burned with curiosity but dared not press further. He picked up two empty glasses on the table, poured wine with practiced ease, and said with a broad grin, “Come then, Third Brother — shall we drink a toast first?”
Li Juechen took the glass, took a sip, and rose to his feet. “Enjoy yourselves. Put everything on my account.”
Li Yuanzhou quickly caught him by the sleeve, speaking in a coaxing tone. “Oh, stay, Third Brother! Word is the Paramount Ballroom has a new singer — Little Red Jade, a pure and lovely beauty whose voice rivals the lark’s. She’s about to perform. Stay and listen!”
Meng Qinian also stepped forward, clapping him on the shoulder to persuade him. “Come now, Juechen. Yuanzhou has done nothing but speak of you since he sat down. Stay a while longer.”
Elsewhere, alone in his private quarters, Tang Lichu had sat staring vacantly out the window ever since Li Juechen departed. She had been brought here more than ten days ago, and tonight was the first time the Third Young Master had touched her.
Though his gaze upon her had been filled with boundless tenderness, her heart felt as though trapped in the depths of winter — cold, bone-deep, and desolate.
She had never known her father. As a child, when others mocked her as fatherless, she would run to her mother and ask: “Why does everyone else have a father, and not me? Is it because I am not good enough, so Father does not love me?”
Each time, her mother would hold her close and weep. In time, she learned never to ask again.
As her mother lay wasting away with illness, she had once clasped Tang Lichu’s hand and said: “Better to be the wife of a poor household than the concubine of a noble house. Remember my words, child — do not walk the path I have walked.”
And yet here she was — in a fate far worse than her mother’s. She was not even a concubine. At best, she was nothing more than a plaything, to be used and cast aside at a wealthy man’s whim.
She had failed her mother. She could never face her in the afterlife.
How wretched it was, to lack even the courage to end it all.
Even weeping, she was breathtakingly lovely. It was then that Madam Cheng, who tended to her daily, stepped inside — and beheld the sight before her. The most beautiful girl she had ever seen sat alone by the window, tears glistening like crystal upon her cheeks, slipping silently downward. There was a quiet, heartrending sorrow about her that stirred the deepest pity.
“Dear me, Miss — whatever is the matter?”
Tang Lichu turned and offered her a faint smile. “It is nothing, Madam Cheng. I was only thinking of my mother.”
Madam Cheng had once had a daughter, lost in infancy. Her husband had perished from opium. From the moment she first laid eyes on Tang Lichu, she had felt a fondness for her. To see such a sweet, beautiful girl so ill-fated tugged at her heart.
“Grieve not, child. Those of us still living must look forward. Your mother, watching over you from the heavens above, would wish you happiness.”
Tang Lichu wiped the tears from her face and nodded gratefully. “I know. Thank you.”
Back amid the glittering revelry of the Paramount Ballroom, the much-heralded Little Red Jade at last stepped onto the stage. Clad in an exquisite gown, she sang and danced with light, graceful steps. Li Yuanzhou shook his head, a faint look of disappointment upon his face. “Is this what they call pure and lovely? Look at that thick layer of paint upon her face… it falls far short of the praise.”
Li Juechen sipped his wine, the frivolous music washing over him — and finding him utterly bored.
Pure… In his eyes, only his little kitten deserved that word. Pure, yet alluring — beautiful enough to take one’s breath away.
Huang Xuejian approached, glass in hand, putting on a soft, sweet smile and asking in a honeyed voice, “Third Brother, what do you think of this famed beauty Little Red Jade?”
Li Juechen leaned back comfortably against the plush leather sofa at the heart of the room and let out a short, cold laugh. “She leaves much to be desired. Plainer than you, and every bit as affected.”
Huang Xuejian’s knuckles turned white as she gripped her glass, biting her lip so hard she nearly drew blood. She had always believed that among all the women surrounding the Third Young Master — be it Meng Lingwei or any other — she alone possessed the standing worthy of becoming the future Young Marshal’s wife. Yet all these years later, she still could not melt the ice within Li Juechen’s heart.
Li Zhenting narrowed his long, shapely eyes, a faint, knowing smile playing upon his lips. “Third Brother, she is a lady. You ought to show her more consideration.”
Li Juechen’s expression remained unmoved. “With Fourth Brother playing the gentleman so gallantly, there is no need for me to offer sympathy. You may all continue enjoying yourselves — I take my leave.”
Li Yuanzhou had also had his fill. He set down his glass without hesitation and hurried after him. “Third Brother, wait for me!”
Sheng Enrong sat nearby, his large, ring-adorned hand wandering freely over the thigh of the hostess beside him. He glanced sideways at Huang Xuejian, a sneer curling his lip, and spoke in a cutting, mocking tone. “Huang Xuejian — oh, Huang Xuejian! He treats you with such disdain, yet here you remain, grinning and simpering and hovering around him like a lost dog. I must say — I truly admire your thick-skinned devotion!”
Furious, Huang Xuejian hurled her glass of wine straight at his face. Sheng Enrong reacted instantly — seizing the young hostess beside him and yanking her forward. The wine struck her full in the face and hair instead.
Sheng Enrong laughed uproariously, showing not the faintest shred of remorse.
When his laughter subsided, he turned to the trembling girl and jeered, “Look at the state you’re in! To have wine poured upon you by the only daughter of Huang Qiusheng, the great wool magnate of Beiping — what an honor! You ought to be down on your knees thanking her!”
Huang Xuejian folded her arms, lifting her chin high and gazing down upon the girl with haughty contempt. All the humiliation she had endured at Li Juechen’s hands now poured forth in that single, impulsive act.
She reached into her elegant purse, withdrew a silver dollar, and tossed it casually onto the table. “There. I am not one to bear grudges. Keep it. No thanks necessary — I do not deign to quarrel with the likes of you.”
With that, she turned and strode away without a backward glance — leaving the young hostess sitting frozen, clutching that single, humiliating coin tight in her trembling hand.