Chapter 4

After the small storm that afternoon, dinner was a lively affair.

Pei Zhiyuan was a little devil who raised hell wherever he went — the only child of his parents, the eldest grandchild of the Pei Family, pampered beyond measure, and he carried on at the table too. “Mama, peel shrimp for me!”

Ding Mei doted on her son. “Okay, okay, peeling, peeling.”

Pei Linmao ruffled his son’s hair, a smile surfacing even on his usually stern face. “Look how greedy you are. You’ll eat them all yourself — Grandpa won’t get any.”

Pei Tiancheng chuckled. “Little Yuan, don’t listen to your father. Grandpa doesn’t want any — eat your fill.”

Pei Zhiyuan lifted his chin proudly, picked up a prawn with his chopsticks, and deliberately waved it in front of Yu Mian. “Well? You want it, don’t you?”

Yu Mian blinked.

What a babyish boy.

He swung the Oil-Braised Prawn in front of her a few times before pulling it back. “I’m not giving you any! This is my house, my papa and mama! My auntie! Got it?”

Yu Mian lowered her lashes and nodded silently.

Ding Mei couldn’t quite bear it and patted her son’s hand. “Where do you get all this nonsense?”

Pei Zhiyuan puffed his cheeks and said nothing. A moment later, he picked up another prawn, stood, and dropped it into Pei Songxi’s bowl, wheedling, “Auntie! Have a prawn!”

Pei Songxi’s expression stayed mild; she gave him a small nod.

He couldn’t help grinning. Good — Auntie wasn’t mad anymore. Auntie being mad was what he feared most. Whenever he upset her before, she’d ignore him for days!

Yu Mian raised her head, sneaked a glance at her, then lowered it again.

She ate very quietly, barely touching the dishes, often picking up just a few grains of rice, finishing quickly.

After the meal, Pei Zhiyuan pestered his parents into taking him out for a walk, and Pei Tiancheng went along.

Pei Zhiyuan wasn’t satisfied; he turned back and called, “Auntie, Auntie! Come with us, okay?”

Pei Songxi brushed off his hand. “I’m not going.”

Pei Zhiyuan pouted in disappointment. “Fine.”

The noisy living room fell silent in an instant.

Pei Songxi watered the flowers outside the window while Yu Mian sat on the sofa, sometimes dropping her gaze to her shoe tips, sometimes glancing up at her.

She longed to talk to her, but feared disturbing her, so she could only sit nearby.

She knew she didn’t like talking.

Pei Songxi stayed in the courtyard for quite a while — until a faint rumble of thunder sounded in the distance, and she came back inside.

At the thunder, Yu Mian started like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, goosebumps rising all over, springing up from the sofa and forgetting everything else as she trailed after her, step for step.

She went into the kitchen; Yu Mian went into the kitchen.

She headed upstairs; Yu Mian followed her up.

That gave Auntie Zhang quite a fright. She stopped the girl and whispered, “The Eldest Miss has a cold disposition and likes quiet. Don’t bother her. Even Little Yuan’s papa is a little afraid of her. Don’t you go making the Eldest Miss angry either.”

Yu Mian tilted her head to look at her, big eyes black and bright, thinking: She’s not scary. She’s very, very nice… She smells lovely and feels soft, and yesterday she even carried me.

Seeing her silent, Auntie Zhang assumed the lesson had landed and let go. “Go play by yourself, then.”

Yu Mian nodded, waited until she’d gone into the kitchen, then scurried up the stairs and knocked on Pei Songxi’s door.

It took a moment before Pei Songxi opened it. She wore moon-white silk pajamas, her expression as cool as moonlight. She studied the girl for a few seconds before speaking. “Go tell Auntie Zhang to make another portion of Oil-Braised Prawns and bring them to my room.”

Yu Mian: “Ah… okay.”

She scurried back downstairs. Pei Songxi stepped out of her doorway and watched the girl’s cheerful little figure, lips pressing together faintly.

Auntie Zhang had just finished her chores. Hearing the message Yu Mian relayed, she half suspected the child was making it up. The Eldest Miss was always so cold and disciplined — no sweets, no late-night snacks, nothing greasy. How could she… be asking for a meal sent to her room?

Seeing her disbelief, Yu Mian grew anxious, eyes shining, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. “It’s true! Mianmian never lies. Auntie Pei gets uncomfortable when she’s hungry!”

Auntie Zhang couldn’t help laughing at her anxious little face. “All right, all right, I’ll have the cook prepare it.”

Only then did Yu Mian nod, satisfied, and dash straight back. She ran up to the third floor, and before she could even knock, the door opened — it had never been locked, just left ajar.

As before, only a small desk lamp was lit. Pei Songxi sat by the window, long smooth hair falling over her shoulders, two embroidered frog buttons on her moon-white pajamas.

She seemed colder than usual, and yet gentler too. She had a pair of eyes like a still lake, holding the reflection of a clear moon, silently shining over mountains and rivers.

Yu Mian stared foolishly for a while and could only come up with one description: She’s so pretty.

Seeing her rooted at the doorway, Pei Songxi beckoned, her voice cool. “Come here.”

Yu Mian ran over on her little legs, the sweat on her forehead not yet dry. “Auntie Pei, are you very hungry?”

Pei Songxi shook her head and pointed at the little blanket and two comic books on the table. “Entertain yourself.”

Her room was truly dull for a child, and she didn’t want to turn around each time only to catch the girl peeking at her. She had reluctantly dug out two comics to keep her occupied.

Yu Mian nodded obediently and didn’t dare disturb her again.

Thunder rumbled on outside, while the room stayed quiet. She could smell a faint pleasant fragrance, the kind she couldn’t name, and yet her heart strangely settled; she wasn’t afraid at all.

The small desk lamp’s dim glow wrapped her little body entirely. She curled into a tiny ball, turning pages under the light like a fluffy little animal.

Half an hour later, Auntie Zhang knocked.

Yu Mian startled and hopped off her stool.

Pei Songxi glanced at her and stepped past her to open the door.

Yu Mian pricked up her ears to listen.

Auntie Zhang’s voice came from outside: “The kitchen had extra fresh shrimp, but the new maid didn’t know to refrigerate them and they’d gone a bit off. I just sent someone out to buy more, so it took a while. You must be hungry, Miss?”

“It’s fine.”

That same familiar, cool voice.

“Shall I bring it in for you?”

“No need. It’s late — go get some rest.”

Auntie Pei hadn’t let Auntie Zhang in.

Yu Mian couldn’t help smiling. She was hiding in her room, and no one else knew.

Another little secret between them.

Theirs alone — something only she and she knew.

The door shut with a thud.

She quickly smoothed the smile from her face and carried the little blanket and comics to one side, considerately clearing the desk for her to eat.

Pei Songxi set down the tray, gave it a cold glance, and frowned as if in distaste. “I don’t want it anymore.”

Yu Mian blinked at her. “…Huh?”

What a waste!

Pei Songxi handed her the chopsticks. “You eat.”

Yu Mian lowered her head, embarrassed, cheeks flushing.

How did she know…

When they were eating, she had been secretly watching her eat the prawns… Was it that obvious? How embarrassing!