The Tianxiang Troupe was a theatrical company that had just arrived in Dadu. They rented a garden in the capital and quickly began performing operas. The noble officials of Dadu discovered that while the troupe was otherwise ordinary, it had several exceptionally outstanding martial role actors and female role performers—their appearances and singing voices were all beautiful. Additionally, the troupe master was generous with money, selecting the most luxurious location and arranging the stage in the most elegant environment. For a time, the Tianxiang Troupe became hugely popular in Dadu.
At this moment, beneath the extraordinarily magnificent stage sat Dadu’s noble officials, their wives and young ladies. Backstage, the troupe members had already prepared to take the stage. Gongs, drums, and string instruments played noisily as a martial role actor appeared on stage wearing a velvet crown, draped in a four-clawed dragon robe, holding a gleaming silver spear. His jade-like face carried an imposing air, his heroic bearing flourishing—his entrance alone won thunderous applause.
This opera told the story of Liu Xiaochun, son of the treacherous minister Liu Chang from the previous dynasty, who relied on his father’s power to bully men and oppress women, bringing disaster to the region. One day, Liu Xiaochun went on an outing with wine, encountering Xu Ying’s family visiting graves in the suburbs. Seeing Xu Ying’s wife Peilan’s beauty, Liu Xiaochun ordered men to seize her and bring her to his manor, intending to take her as a concubine. Peilan refused and was confined in the Water Moon Tower. Xu Ying gathered several close friends, agreeing to rescue his wife and eliminate the evildoer for the people’s good. That night, they quietly infiltrated the Liu manor. Liu Xiaochun happened to emerge from his room drunk, and after a fierce battle, they annihilated him and his minions in one fell swoop, rescued Peilan, and escaped to safety. This was a typical opera of heroes rescuing beauties and punishing evil while promoting good—yet it had circulated for ages and was deeply beloved.
The “Xu Ying” on stage moved neither hurriedly nor slowly, each move and stance, attack and defense, advance and retreat executed with steady technique. When he fought Liu Xiaochun’s large blade with twin swords, the gongs and drums suddenly changed to a rapid tempo, the rhythm accelerating. The atmosphere grew tense, the climax sharply rising, earning enthusiastic applause throughout the hall.
Before long, the seized Peilan appeared on stage. Her emerald long silk water sleeves gently swayed, and the tasseled hairpin ornaments in her coiffure immediately swayed gracefully, flowing out infinite emotion like water. She tilted her head slightly as melodious lyrics poured forth. Her beautiful eyes sparkled brilliantly—the audience below, watching her appearance and listening to her singing, spontaneously burst into waves of enthusiastic applause.
Being a theatrical troupe, there was naturally a distinction between private boxes and ordinary seats. The ordinary seats on the ground floor weren’t so particular—men, women, old and young sat in full rows and columns. People watched the performance attentively, occasionally whispering comments to each other—the scene was extremely lively. There were seven private boxes in total, set on the second floor, each elegantly arranged and separated by thin pearl curtains. Those outside couldn’t see in, but those inside could see the stage outside. Today these private boxes were all occupied by wives and young ladies from noble official families, with guards standing outside, afraid someone without eyes might cause offense.
“Miss, still no news today.” A young woman’s face showed three parts disappointment as she spoke to the person seated by the window.
That person smiled lightly and said, “Is that so?”
She had a porcelain-white face, lips red as coral, and a pair of pitch-black eyes that stirred the heart—truly a beauty. Yet her voice, like her expression, held a smile without ripples, each word pronounced extremely clearly: “Creating such momentum will eventually attract attention. We merely need to wait.”
“Yes.” Zhao Yue looked deeply at her mistress. The current Li Weiyang’s appearance had changed somewhat from half a year ago—naturally, she had become more beautiful. However, Zhao Yue still preferred the former Li Weiyang, because in the past one could still see smiles on her face, but in these six months, she had never again seen her smile from the heart.
“What Princess Yongning loves most is listening to opera. When in the capital, she invited nearly every theatrical troupe once. People’s habits don’t change easily, yet though Tianxiang Garden has been here so long, we haven’t seen her take any action. This is truly strange.” Li Weiyang’s voice was very light, as if deep in thought.
Zhao Yue furrowed her brows, looking at Li Weiyang uncomprehendingly.
Li Weiyang had arrived in Dadu a month ago, constantly seeking opportunities in secret to meet Princess Yongning. The other party still owed her a promise—even if Yongning didn’t want to honor it, she would make her honor it. However, Yongning was now Fourth Prince’s proper consort. To meet her, one had to evade Yuan Yu’s eyes, which was truly not easy. Li Weiyang didn’t think Yuan Yu was a fool. Though she had changed somewhat from before, she could still be easily recognized. Rash action would only make things worse, so she chose to approach through Princess Yongning’s preferences. However, Yongning was different from those ordinary nobles in the outer private boxes—with such status, she would absolutely never involve herself in such places of questionable repute. Therefore, she could only build this troupe’s reputation, making everyone in Dadu know of it. Only then would there be a chance to be invited to Prince Yan’s manor and, using the troupe as cover, meet Princess Yongning.
Li Weiyang thought while lightly closing her eyes, as if pondering her own thoughts.
Just then, the copper gong sounded—one performance had ended. Backstage, the actors who had just been on stage busily removed their makeup, hurrying for the next performance. People came and went at flying speed, chaotic yet orderly. Only in a secluded small room did Wen Xiaolou, the martial role actor who had just played Xu Ying, remove his makeup and get into an argument with the troupe master.
“The audience clearly requested Fang Jingtai by name today, yet you insisted on performing this opera instead. What’s the reasoning?!” Wen Xiaolou’s features—bright eyes like water, sword-like black brows—showed anger on his fair face, yet he looked three parts more beautiful than his original oiled and painted stage appearance.
He was an extremely handsome man who had learned opera in a theatrical troupe since childhood. Born with a good voice, and having later studied martial arts with a master for several years, he possessed a rare heroic spirit compared to ordinary actors, quickly becoming the Tianxiang Troupe’s star performer.
The troupe master, over fifty with a prosperous build, gripped a pipe in his hand and hurried to persuade: “What are you doing?! How to perform the opera is up to you, but what opera to perform is naturally my decision. You just perform!”
“Stop deceiving me. Everything was fine before, but once that woman arrived, everything changed! This is your theatrical troupe, yet now even what repertoire to perform must follow her wishes. Has she bought the troupe outright?!” Wen Xiaolou was clearly indignant, even his slightly upturned eye corners radiating sharp coldness.
The troupe master hurriedly glanced around and said repeatedly, “Aiyo, my ancestor, keep your voice down! Don’t you know our troupe’s situation? Have you forgotten—when we were in Yaozhou, we wandered everywhere, could only set up grass stage platforms. While you sang opera, you didn’t even have shelter from sun and rain overhead. When we met local ruffians and hooligans, we couldn’t even pay them off. And now? We live in the best garden, perform on the best stages, even our costumes are the most luxurious. What more do you want? She paid money—if she loves hearing something, you sing it. Can high-mindedness fill your stomach?”
Wen Xiaolou sneered coldly. “Troupe Master, I advise you to think carefully. This woman’s origins are unclear, her identity mysterious, yet she inexplicably sought out our troupe, saying she’d make us famous, even spending large sums to hire famous performers for you. Don’t you find it strange? We have no relation to her—why would she help us so much? Where in this world are things so easy?!”
The troupe master frowned. “What do you understand! She’s merely your theatrical fan—”
“My theatrical fan? Did you see those people out there just now? They applauded for me, cheered for me, asked me to sing another piece—those are my theatrical fans! You say she’s here for the opera, but has she ever truly listened to me sing? Has she ever said a word to me? I’ll be frank—from the first time I saw her, I felt uncomfortable all over. I always feel she’ll bring us some disaster!”
The troupe master looked at him with difficulty. “I’ve already considered everything you said and sent people everywhere to investigate this young miss’s origins—”
Wen Xiaolou asked urgently, “Did you discover anything?”
The troupe master shook his head. “Though our status is lowly, after wandering everywhere these many years, we know how to read people. She’s beautifully featured, moves with nobility and grace, and spends so generously—she must come from a wealthy aristocratic family. But why would such a family’s young lady come here alone? Last time you also saw—when someone without eyes tried to cause her trouble, her maid severely taught him a lesson. That maid’s martial skills are extraordinarily high, absolutely not an ordinary guard!”
“Since you know her origins aren’t simple, you shouldn’t accept such lavish gifts from her!” Anxiety appeared on Wen Xiaolou’s face.
“I… didn’t I have no choice? If we refused her money, could our troupe be this popular?” The troupe master awkwardly dropped his pipe and earnestly persuaded, “Xiaolou, let’s not worry about her purpose. Just perform our operas well. After all, with our worthless lives, what is there for people to exploit!”
Wen Xiaolou was speechless. Indeed, the troupe master was right. People like them were merely lowborn actors—what value could they have for others to exploit? If that woman had ulterior motives, yet from start to finish she had never asked them to do anything, instead spending large sums to make them famous. But to just ignore it left him uneasy. He always had an intuition that this woman was far from simple, and her purpose wouldn’t be simple either. She clearly wasn’t interested in opera, yet attended every performance in the private box, as if waiting for someone.
As an actor like him, when people liked him they called him Boss Wen, and when displeased, he was lower than mud—he couldn’t afford to offend anyone. If this woman brought trouble, what should they do? This was Wen Xiaolou’s greatest worry.
“Brother, don’t speak of her that way! Last time when my illness flared up, if she hadn’t hired a physician to treat me, I’d be dead now!” Just then, the curtain stirred slightly as a young girl walked in from outside.
This young girl was rarely beautiful—a peach blossom face, autumn water bright eyes, wearing a plain skirt with an open and cheerful smile on her face. Her appearance in the dim room seemed to bring in a burst of fresh sunlight, instantly brightening the entire space. Even the old troupe master with his clouded eyes showed an amazed expression. Wen Xiaolou couldn’t help his anger: “Your body hasn’t recovered yet. Why did you come out?”
Xiaoman stuck out her tongue. “I’ve been lying in bed constantly—I’m about to get moldy from lying there.”
Wen Xiaolou looked at her, his originally emotionless eyes showing a trace of softness. “Silly girl, the physician said you should properly rest in bed so you can—”
The troupe master’s face showed a disgusted expression. Everyone in his troupe had to work—when this girl got sick, she’d be delayed for ten days to half a month. If not for Wen Xiaolou constantly protecting this girl, he would have driven her out long ago!
Seeing the troupe master’s expression, Xiaoman hurried to say, “Troupe Master, my body is almost recovered. I can take the stage tomorrow, don’t worry.”
Wen Xiaolou was about to speak when Xiaoman shook her head at him. Wen Xiaolou’s heart ached—he said nothing more. He could protect her for a few days but couldn’t always protect her. Xiaoman was too sensible—so sensible he didn’t know what to say.
The troupe master nodded and turned. “Xiaolou, let’s leave this matter here. I’m going out first!” With that, he lifted the curtain and walked out.
Xiaoman looked at Wen Xiaolou disapprovingly. “Brother, that Miss Li is my lifesaver. You shouldn’t doubt her like this.”
Wen Xiaolou’s smile turned icy. “You silly girl, when others treat you well, it’s not necessarily sincere. Aren’t you afraid she has ulterior motives?! Think about it—”
“Enough, Brother. Whatever her reasons, she clearly could have ignored me. Even the troupe master said these years he’s spent so much money treating my illness he won’t care for me anymore. She has no relation to us, yet was willing to produce silver. Have you ever met such a kindhearted person, Brother?” Xiaoman’s eyes blinked, but her voice was exceptionally firm.
Wen Xiaolou could barely speak. Xiaoman had been an orphan since childhood, adopted by a theatrical troupe and taught to sing opera. Once when setting up a stage in the rain, she accidentally caught a cold. The troupe master refused to provide medical treatment—the delay developed into a heart condition. Later that heartless master simply abandoned her on the street, ignoring whether she lived or died. If Wen Xiaolou hadn’t accidentally found and brought her back, she would have long since lost her life. These years, each time she fell ill she endured it, afraid of becoming Wen Xiaolou’s burden. He clearly knew this but was powerless. No matter how he performed, no matter how much reward he received, the lion’s share went to the troupe. What remained was pitifully little—forget hiring famous physicians for Xiaoman, even buying medicine from pharmacies was barely possible. He lacked sufficient silver and could only watch Xiaoman suffer helplessly. And Xiaoman was so sensible—no matter how her condition worsened, she still took the stage to perform, making him even more heartbroken.
This time, if not for that mysterious Miss Li, Xiaoman probably would never have opened her eyes again. No matter how he doubted her, what Xiaoman said was fact. Wen Xiaolou sighed. “Fine, I won’t say such things anymore.”
Xiaoman nodded. “I want to go thank that young miss.”
Wen Xiaolou’s brows furrowed even tighter. Xiaoman quickly extended her hand to press his brow ridge. “Brother, don’t do that—you’ll grow old.”
Xiaoman wasn’t his biological sister, but over these many years, he had long regarded her as his closest, dearest person in the world. This feeling transcended everything. He was just afraid—truly afraid. He was already nineteen this year and probably couldn’t perform much longer. He simply dared not imagine—if he couldn’t sing anymore, what would happen to Xiaoman? How would he care for her? Precisely because of this, he so rejected Li Weiyang’s appearance. Their lives were already precarious—what changes would this mysterious young miss bring them? He was truly frightened.
But watching Xiaoman’s smile without a trace of impurity, he couldn’t say half a word of refusal. How long could Xiaoman live? Perhaps ten years, perhaps one year—no, perhaps only a month. Even he didn’t know. But no matter what, for Xiaoman’s smile now, he was willing to do anything.
Wen Xiaolou finally sighed. “Alright, but wait for me to go with you.”
Wen Xiaolou still had another performance—the Rouge Prince. This opera told the story of a woman named Rouge who joined the army in her father’s place. Originally it was performed by a female role actor, but later the troupe master discovered the female role lacked heroic spirit—no matter how performed it felt too soft. So he had Wen Xiaolou perform in drag. Fortunately, Wen Xiaolou could handle both civilian and military operas, martial and female roles without difficulty. At this moment, he wore purple robes, wielding a golden-adorned blade, holding a whip as he danced. With the intersecting music, his body whirled like a dragon-serpent about to take wing, spinning violently. Suddenly he leaped up, performing seven somersaults in mid-air—everyone cheered in unison with admiration.
Li Weiyang rarely watched a full opera, but watching this hardworking Wen Xiaolou, she suddenly laughed mockingly. Zhao Yue didn’t know what she was laughing at and looked at her questioningly.
Li Weiyang’s gaze was cold, her voice carrying a trace of sighs. “Do you remember how wretched Wen Xiaolou was the first time we met him?” Without enough money on him, he knelt at the medicine hall entrance. They said he knelt an entire night, only begging that physician to go see his Xiaoman. Unfortunately, no matter how long he knelt, the outcome was the same. In the end, that physician was moved by Li Weiyang’s silver, not by Wen Xiaolou’s devotion.
“Miss, actually this servant never understood—there are countless theatrical troupes under heaven. A third-rate troupe like Tianxiang, and Wen Xiaolou—without someone promoting him, he’d never become famous. Why did Miss choose them?”
Li Weiyang listened to the thunderous applause below, as if talking to herself. “Yes, why indeed?” Along this journey, she’d seen countless tragic stories yet never been moved. She wasn’t a philanthropist—she couldn’t save everyone. Moreover, when she suffered, who came to help her? But when she first saw Wen Xiaolou kneeling at the medicine hall entrance, she suddenly thought to make a bet with herself—if he knelt for a full three hours, she would save the person. However, Wen Xiaolou knelt in the freezing snow for an entire night, far exceeding her expectations. Perhaps at that moment, she suddenly grew curious about the person Wen Xiaolou wanted to save.
Originally, she wouldn’t choose those famous popular troupes. Obviously, those troupes had backers behind them—they didn’t need her financial support and naturally wouldn’t obey her commands. In Dadu, she had no power, only money. Everything had to start from scratch, so choosing the Tianxiang Troupe was actually safer.
Soon the stage changed to another opera. Li Weiyang stood up. “Let’s stop here today. We should return.”
Zhao Yue was about to speak when the curtain lifted and Wen Xiaolou walked in still wearing stage costume. Zhao Yue’s brows furrowed slightly, then she saw Wen Xiaolou smile. “Forgive the intrusion, Miss. It’s just that Xiaoman insisted on coming to thank you—”
Li Weiyang’s gaze fell on Xiaoman behind Wen Xiaolou. She was just smiling—such a pure smile that seeing it pierced the heart. “Thank you. If not for you, I’d probably be dead.” She thanked sincerely.
Li Weiyang nodded noncommittally, as if acknowledging she’d heard.
“Miss Li, that silver—I’ll work hard to earn money and repay you.” Wen Xiaolou said this. Xiaoman listened and showed disapproval. She felt Li Weiyang wouldn’t like hearing such words—this wasn’t gratitude but rather sounded somewhat ungracious. She feared Li Weiyang would be angry, but the other party only said coldly, “As you wish.” Then she walked out. Zhao Yue hurried to drape a cloak over her.
As Li Weiyang passed Xiaoman, Xiaoman’s face still held that smile—brighter than sunshine, clean and warm. Li Weiyang’s gaze swept across her face and she suddenly smiled faintly, like moonlight—cool and indifferent.
Two extremes—Wen Xiaolou froze. When Li Weiyang and Xiaoman stood together, he discovered in amazement that Xiaoman seemed like a ray of sunlight—just looking at her made one feel good. But Li Weiyang was like cold moonlight—beautiful yes, yet without the slightest warmth.
Wen Xiaolou suddenly understood why he disliked Li Weiyang. Why—clearly she had such beautiful features, so much silver, and a loyal guard, obviously born into great wealth and nobility. If it were himself, who knew how happy he’d be, because having money meant all difficulties were solved. Yet he had never seen her show a smile from the heart. Always that icy appearance—even her smiles had no warmth whatsoever.
Just then, Xiaoman looked at Li Weiyang’s retreating figure and said, “Brother, she seems to have many sad matters.”
Wen Xiaolou froze, then suddenly laughed mockingly. “We’re so poor, looked down upon by others, have nothing, yet you still worry about others—” His words actually carried three parts sharpness.
Xiaoman turned back, looking at him uncomprehendingly. “Brother, what’s wrong? You weren’t like this before—”
Wen Xiaolou turned his face away. “It’s nothing.” Why, why did she have everything yet still so unhappy—while his Xiaoman had nothing, nothing at all, yet could still smile so happily? Wen Xiaolou felt heartache.
Xiaoman’s face grew serious. “She saved me—she’s my lifesaver. Brother must never say such things again. I feel that young miss is a good person.”
A good person? Wen Xiaolou’s gaze turned toward outside the courtyard. Li Weiyang had already descended the steps and boarded an inconspicuous carriage. A woman who hid her identity everywhere—what exactly did she want to use their troupe to do? He had to find out! He glanced at Xiaoman. “Tell the troupe master I have matters to attend to!” With that, he hurried to remove the oil paint from his face, changed clothes, and walked out without looking back.
“Brother! Where are you going!” Xiaoman called after him from upstairs in surprise, but Wen Xiaolou ran very fast and disappeared in the blink of an eye.
Xiaoman waited until nightfall before finally seeing Wen Xiaolou return. She hurried to stand up. “Brother, where exactly—”
“Shh, don’t say anything. I’ll take you to see that young miss’s true face.” That Zhao Yue’s martial skills were very high—he was no match for her. Wen Xiaolou could only follow from afar, finally with great difficulty finding Li Weiyang’s residence. He felt that if he didn’t bring Xiaoman to see with her own eyes, she simply wouldn’t believe him.
Wen Xiaolou brought the puzzled Xiaoman all the way out of the opera garden, heading toward Dadu’s east gate. Wen Xiaolou relied on memory to find a household but naturally didn’t dare knock on the door—he wanted to bring Xiaoman over the wall. Xiaoman insisted on not going further. “Brother, you’re really going too far. Miss Li is my lifesaver, yet you doubt her like this!”
“This isn’t doubting her! Didn’t you say she always seems troubled, must have worrying matters? If we don’t find out her background, how can we know why she’s anxious? How can we help? Xiaoman, don’t you want to repay her?” Knowing Xiaoman was innocent, Wen Xiaolou deceived her thus.
Xiaoman thought about it but still hesitated. “But—I still feel this is very wrong. If Miss Li won’t tell us, she must have her difficulties. Why force others into difficulty?”
Wen Xiaolou disagreed. “You’re truly a fool who’ll count money even while being sold. Whether you go in or not, I’m definitely going!” He turned, but Xiaoman grabbed his clothes. “I… I’ll go with you—”
The two finally entered the courtyard to see a red cloud suspended beneath the moon. Xiaoman was startled, only then discovering peach blossoms blooming throughout the courtyard, with countless white butterflies fluttering among the flowers, faintly glowing under moonlight. The courtyard wasn’t large but very tidy. Not far away was the main house. The two exchanged glances. Xiaoman ultimately felt this wasn’t honorable and refused to walk forward. Wen Xiaolou grew angry and simply left her behind, quietly moving toward the main house alone.
Under the moon, only the courtyard’s carved windows cast heavy black shadows on the blue bricks, giving a desolate and eerie feeling. Wen Xiaolou felt as if he were in an empty place, exploring the secrets of a girl who was neither human nor ghost—his heart couldn’t help but feel several parts fear…
Candlelight showed in the main house. Wen Xiaolou didn’t know whether to proceed. He vaguely felt he would discover many things he didn’t want to know. But if he didn’t understand what Li Weiyang wanted their troupe to do, he truly couldn’t set his mind at ease. Just then, the curtain suddenly rustled. “Meow”—something jumped out. He was startled, but looking closely, it was just a small cat staring at him curiously with wide eyes. He remained motionless, and the cat ran off. Wen Xiaolou breathed a sigh of relief, approached that carved window, broke through the thin paper, and carefully looked inside.
This room seemed to be inner and outer chambers. The outer room was kept quite clean—wardrobe, bed, table, chairs, flower stands all brand new, covered with elaborate carvings, very antique. Li Weiyang and her guard weren’t in the room—only a small boy, about three or four years old, with a pink face extremely adorable, playing with a rattle drum in his hands, seemingly completely absorbed in his own world.
Just then, Zhao Yue emerged from the inner room, came to the little boy’s side, and said softly, “Young Master, time to eat.”
The little boy had no reaction, still earnestly shaking his rattle drum. Zhao Yue forcibly seized the rattle from his hand. The little boy suddenly raised his head, his pitch-black eyes looking at Zhao Yue in terror, his face revealing a fierceness that didn’t belong to a child. Zhao Yue tried to communicate with him. “…Young Master, this servant will feed you. Don’t be afraid.” However, the little boy suddenly twisted his head away, gripping tightly to the table corner beside him. Zhao Yue went to pull him, but he viciously lunged forward, biting hard into Zhao Yue’s hand. Though a child, it immediately created a bloody wound on Zhao Yue’s hand—one could see how much force he used.
“Young Master, you can’t wait for Miss to return before eating every time—” Zhao Yue steeled her heart. “Young Master, Miss said you must learn to eat by yourself!” Then she again grabbed the little boy’s hand, but he suddenly darted from her grasp, fleeing rapidly outward. However, Zhao Yue’s reach was quick—she grabbed him in one motion. He seemed to go mad, desperately kicking and hitting Zhao Yue, only too short to reach anywhere but her shins. This small pain meant nothing to Zhao Yue. She merely held him without releasing, clamping his twisting and kicking legs, firmly fixing him in her arms…
This scene looked like an ordinary child refusing to eat, but why would an ordinary child have such an extreme reaction to someone approaching? The more Wen Xiaolou watched, the more his heart chilled. He vaguely felt everyone in this courtyard was strange to the extreme. Just as he wanted to retreat and find Xiaoman, he suddenly heard an icy voice: “Seen enough?”
Wen Xiaolou’s heart plunged heavily as he immediately turned around.
Standing diagonally across from him was a young girl wearing pure white robes without any colorful trim, her beautiful face expressionless, positioned precisely at the boundary between moonlight and shadow—truly startling Wen Xiaolou.
“I… I…” For a moment he could barely speak.
Li Weiyang smiled slightly. “What, curious about my identity?”
Wen Xiaolou felt his throat itch. Facing Li Weiyang, he subconsciously felt guilty. Just then, Xiaoman rushed over, her face red with shame. “Miss Li, we… we didn’t mean to…” She had stood there so long, worried something happened to Wen Xiaolou, and truly couldn’t rest easy before rushing over.
The person had kindly saved her life, yet Wen Xiaolou picked at and doubted her—this was truly too unconscionable, leaving Xiaoman no way to defend him.
“That person inside is my younger brother.” Li Weiyang slowly spoke, not explaining but simply stating facts plainly.
The child inside let out a shriek—that sound like a small wounded beast made Xiaoman’s heart jump. She said repeatedly, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Miss Li. It’s all my fault!”
“What fault do you have?” Li Weiyang’s smile grew very indifferent. “I helped you without reason—naturally you would doubt me. Moreover, I never intended to refuse repayment. I merely hoped to use your troupe to wait for someone. But don’t worry—this is my own affair. I won’t implicate you.” She wanted to use the troupe’s hands to meet Princess Yongning. Afterward, she would have no further connection to them. But—Wen Xiaolou’s intuition was accurate. She truly hadn’t saved Xiaoman out of pure kindness.
Wen Xiaolou’s face turned red and white alternately. Having his thoughts seen through, he felt especially embarrassed while also feeling guilty. If she was a bad person, she could withdraw everything given them at any time, leaving them with nothing. He said quietly, “I’m sorry, Miss Li. It’s my fault, not Xiaoman’s doing.”
So humble, so sincere—knowing he erred he immediately apologized… Li Weiyang smiled slightly, only the smile wasn’t so cold anymore. She thought, watching these two people, though she didn’t know their relationship, they cared for each other, relied on each other like this—wasn’t that good… Her tone was flat: “I won’t report to the troupe master. Go. I’ll pretend I never saw you today.”
Just then, the commotion inside the house grew louder, as if bowls and dishes were being smashed, producing crisp sounds. Li Weiyang’s eyes and brows remained very calm, as if she hadn’t heard.
Wen Xiaolou heard the sounds from inside the house, thinking of the little boy he’d just seen. He possessed such beautiful features, such pitch-black eyes—extraordinarily adorable. No one seeing him could help but feel heartbroken and tender. But why did Li Weiyang treat him so cruelly?
He unconsciously said, “Miss Li, your younger brother—”
“This is my own affair. I don’t need your concern.” Li Weiyang didn’t glance once toward the house, as if completely unconcerned about that child.
“But he’s so young. You can teach him slowly. You needn’t force him like this—” Wen Xiaolou drew in a sharp breath. Xiaoman’s face showed incomprehension.
Li Weiyang said coldly, “Without pressure he cannot become self-reliant.”
“You’re mad!” Wen Xiaolou didn’t know what he was saying. Only when seeing Li Weiyang’s such indifferent expression did he involuntarily speak thus. “Treating a small child this way.”
Li Weiyang’s face showed a mocking smile. “Everything can only rely on oneself. Don’t fantasize others will help you. He’s a fool—only when I feed him will he eat. When others approach he kicks and hits. But can I be with him every moment? I cannot. So he must learn to eat by himself, even if forced! I can only teach him that way. I don’t know what other methods exist in the world to teach children.”
Wen Xiaolou stared at Li Weiyang dumbfounded. He suddenly realized Xiaoman was right—Li Weiyang held too many secrets. He simply couldn’t see through this person.
Xiaoman’s eyes looked at Li Weiyang. Suddenly she smiled. “If you don’t mind, I can help. I don’t have many performances—during the day when I’m free I have nothing to do. I’m very good with children. I used to manage all the children in the troupe very well.” She just wanted to do something for Li Weiyang to repay her.
Li Weiyang glanced at Xiaoman. She had always felt she understood people well, comprehended human nature clearly. But now she suddenly couldn’t quite read this young girl. She’d already said she had ulterior motives, didn’t need her repayment, yet she foolishly ran to her home saying she wanted to help. Wasn’t that very strange?
However, Xiaoman’s expression was sincere, serious, even… persistent, as if unable to comprehend the meaning of Li Weiyang’s frown. Obviously a stubborn child.
Li Weiyang looked at Xiaoman. “You want to come?”
Xiaoman nodded earnestly. “Please let me contribute a little.”
Li Weiyang sneered once. She had already changed many maids—each one ultimately driven mad by Minzhi’s stubbornness. Once Xiaoman knew how difficult Minzhi was to care for, she would retreat.
This time Li Weiyang estimated wrong. Xiaoman truly came every day, persistently caring for Minzhi. Of course, Li Minzhi as usual ignored her, but unlike others, no matter how he rejected her, she could still smile cheerfully and play with him. When Li Weiyang saw Xiaoman take away Minzhi’s toy—he didn’t speak, didn’t bite, just lowered his head and continued playing with something else—she began discovering Xiaoman’s special qualities. At mealtime, Minzhi refused to touch his bowl, desperately grabbing for a toy on the other side of the table, but with short arms couldn’t reach. He half-knelt climbing onto the chair, stretching his arms across that bowl of porridge, but his knee slipped and he fell down, bringing down his own bowl—soup splashing all over Xiaoman. Anyone else would have changed color long ago, but Xiaoman just smiled cheerfully and wiped the oil off to pinch Minzhi’s face…
Finally one day, Li Weiyang spoke: “You keep running here—your troupe master has scolded you more than once, right? Why still do this? I already said I don’t need your repayment. Or do you hope I’ll help you with something else?”
She could only think of this reason. However, Xiaoman hurriedly shook her head. “No, no, I don’t need anything. I just want to help a little.”
Li Weiyang’s heart stirred. Looking at her: “Help? Help me? Why?”
Xiaoman looked at her uncomprehendingly, not understanding what she was saying. In her view, receiving kindness meant repaying it—wasn’t that natural?
Li Weiyang stopped speaking, quietly observing Xiaoman a while before saying, “Boss Wen said not to let you come, yet you still insist?”
“What’s the big deal? He’ll stop being angry in two days!” Xiaoman made a face. “He always worries I’ll get sick. I’m not made of paper—where would I die so easily?”
“…”
“I do have an illness, but if I’m afraid of dying and never walk, never move, never sing opera, what difference is there between me and the dead?” Xiaoman said matter-of-factly, unconsciously glancing at the room where Li Minzhi had already fallen asleep. When he slept, he became so well-behaved and adorable.
“You have a heart condition—for many years?” Li Weiyang suddenly felt a little curious. In these six months, she had rarely felt curious about anyone.
“Me? Yes, many years—probably from seven years old till now?” Xiaoman herself wasn’t quite certain. “I don’t want to die either. If possible, I hope to stay by Brother’s side forever. He’s even more fragile than me!”
Li Weiyang laughed. That smile under the sun was like melting ice and snow, gone in an instant. “Yes, he’s much more fragile than you.”
The two smiled knowingly.
“I’m an orphan, abandoned by the roadside from childhood. The troupe boss who adopted me said perhaps my mother was some courtesan in a pleasure house who secretly gave birth to me then discarded me. Before I was very sad, but later thinking about it, what does being an orphan matter? I can still breathe, still sing opera. It’s nothing serious.”
Li Weiyang watched Xiaoman’s cheerful smile and suddenly grew somewhat silent. Sun Yanjun and County Princess Pingting were both very naive, but that naivety was built on a foundation of being protected. But Xiaoman… had probably suffered much hardship, yet could still maintain such a cheerful smile. Why was that?
Xiaoman secretly observed Li Weiyang’s expression. “You’re truly beautiful when you smile.”
Li Weiyang nodded, glancing at the doorway. “Your brother came to fetch you. You should go.”
Wen Xiaolou wore a blue shirt, looking very handsome. His smile was full of warmth. Xiaoman flew rapidly toward him like a butterfly. Li Weiyang suddenly smiled again. Just then, Zhao Yue walked to her side. “Miss, this servant received news saying—”
Li Weiyang’s brows lightly furrowed…