Chapter 6: The Child

The voice still carried a hint of childishness, clearly not Zhao Panyu’s, and Liu Chuyan, realizing this, breathed a sigh of relief. Yet, with someone present, she couldn’t simply turn and leave, so she looked back.

To her surprise, upon turning, she was confronted by a grim visage—an apparition with a fierce, monstrous countenance. Frightened, she stumbled and fell, her face drained of color. Han Shuwei, slower to react, had no warning and was likewise caught off guard when someone behind them brandished a mask. She shrieked, stepped back, and tumbled beside Liu Chuyan.

In broad daylight, along the quiet path, the two young women clung to each other, screaming, unable even to look at their tormentor—a truly remarkable scene.

The culprit behind this spectacle was a boy of thirteen or fourteen, not tall, a jade coronet atop his head secured by a red and yellow cord tied beneath his chin. His robe was lavishly adorned with sun, moon, and stars, extravagant and bold. Seeing his prank succeed, he burst into hearty laughter, nearly doubling over.

Liu Chuyan, hearing his laughter, looked up to see him rocking with glee, unable to control himself for some time. At last, he removed the mask, revealing lively, bright eyes, short, black brows, and a complexion darkened by the sun, lively and mischievous. He was no longer a child, yet still indulged in such crude tricks to frighten two girls. Liu Chuyan was furious, but his splendid attire made it clear he belonged to the imperial family, so she swallowed the words that rose to her lips.

As Liu Chuyan suppressed her anger, Han Shuwei pointed at the boy and scolded him, “You little brat! At your age, you ought to know better. Where did you learn such mischief? Has your master taught you nothing?”

“My master? Which one do you mean? I have plenty of masters, but none you have the right to criticize!” The boy lifted his chin, deliberately provoking her.

Han Shuwei was about to continue her tirade when Liu Chuyan quickly covered her mouth and whispered in her ear, “He seems to be someone important, Shuwei. Don’t stir up trouble.”

But Han Shuwei would not be deterred. She was truly enraged. “How am I causing trouble? He frightened us on purpose and now mocks us without remorse!” Tears streamed down her cheeks, her grievance all the more acute.

The boy saw she was crying and became flustered, taking a step forward. “You’re a grown young lady, yet so easily frightened—and your crying is quite unsightly.”

Han Shuwei, beautiful as she was, had never been called ugly. Now, startled and insulted, she sobbed, nearly unable to breathe, “And you—what’s so good about you? You look like an adult yourself, yet you scare people and feel no shame…”

Liu Chuyan kept urging her to restrain herself, but Han Shuwei, incited by the boy, became even more agitated. Liu Chuyan could only pat her back, “Shuwei, let’s go home. Don’t embarrass ourselves here.”

“There’s no one else around; what embarrassment is there? If I don’t give this brat a piece of my mind, I’ll never be satisfied!”

The boy stuck out his tongue and made faces, “Go ahead—scold me, scold me…”

“You—ignorant child! You truly lack any upbringing!”

“Who lacks upbringing?” Suddenly, a young man in a black brocade robe stepped out from the woods. He was barely past twenty, but his imposing presence was in stark contrast to the boy’s.

“Master!” The boy called out excitedly, wanting to rush over but shrank back at the man’s stern glance.

“Youqiao, how are your studies? Why are you trailing after me again?”

“Master, I’ve finished all my lessons! You’ve been busy lately and haven’t come to see me.” The boy grinned, eager to change the topic, fearful of being reprimanded.

Liu Chuyan listened to their exchange, astonished: the boy was Prince Xin, Zhu Youqiao, and his master… Who could he be? She didn’t recognize his face, but his attire was unmistakably familiar. A spark flashed in her mind—it was Xue Ao! What misfortune was this, to encounter him twice in one day?

Han Shuwei, emboldened when the boy was alone, had not expected him to be Prince Xin. She had scolded him and his master—how reckless!

Xue Ao and Zhu Youqiao bantered for a moment before finally noticing the two young women nearby. One remained silent and wary, the other’s cheeks were stained with tears as she glared coldly at Zhu Youqiao. “What happened here?”

“Nothing, Master, nothing…” Zhu Youqiao waved his hand nervously. He had indeed bullied them, but if Xue Ao found out, he would surely be punished, so he hurried to deny it.

“Then why did she say you lack any upbringing?”

“It’s nothing, just a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding.” Zhu Youqiao, seizing the chance, shot several pleading glances at Han Shuwei.

Han Shuwei saw through his fear of the man and refused to comply, defiantly turning her head away.

Zhu Youqiao clenched his fists in frustration.

Xue Ao, though not facing Zhu Youqiao directly, watched from the corner of his eye, noting every gesture: it was obvious Zhu Youqiao was at fault. Yet, even if the prince was wrong, he could not apologize to them. Besides, the girl’s earlier scolding had been spirited; she did not seem bullied. He grunted twice, “Young lady, did Prince Xin harm you just now?”

No matter how angry Han Shuwei was, she dared not truly offend Prince Xin, and this man was even more intimidating. She quickly denied it, “No, it was just a misunderstanding. I was at fault for offending Prince Xin, but it was not intentional. I ask for his forgiveness.”

“It’s nothing,” Zhu Youqiao, seeing her demure response, felt triumphant.

“Very well. Please continue enjoying the osmanthus. We shall take our leave.” Xue Ao, not allowing further argument, grabbed Zhu Youqiao’s sleeve and departed.

“Farewell, Prince Xin,” Liu Chuyan, who had been hiding behind Han Shuwei, fearing Xue Ao would recognize her, finally felt relieved as they left and bowed respectfully.

Hearing this, Xue Ao instinctively glanced back. Both girls kept their heads lowered. Aside from the one who had argued with Zhu Youqiao, the other, from this angle, looked exactly like the girl he had seen that morning—was it her again? Could she be the fourth daughter of the Han household? Judging by her age, it was likely. The famed Han twins—so much for their reputation. Beauty is of little use if one lacks manners.

Liu Chuyan had no idea what Xue Ao was thinking, only that a look of disdain was cast her way. She disliked him as well and twisted her sleeve nervously. Only when they had gone did she raise her head and straighten herself.

“Cousin, let’s go back,” Han Shuwei, as soon as they were out of sight, eagerly pulled Liu Chuyan toward home.

Liu Chuyan nodded.

“Cousin, that was Prince Xin just now. I’ve only heard of his rude and reckless ways, but now I’ve seen it for myself. And even his master—so proud, so brusque. He knew Prince Xin was at fault, yet…”

“Shuwei, enough.” Liu Chuyan stopped her from muttering further.

“Cousin…” Han Shuwei was unwilling to let it go, pouting in protest.

“That man in the black robe was Xue Ao, the Deputy Supervisor of the Imperial Censors.”

“What?” Han Shuwei exclaimed, then thought for a moment, “That makes sense. Prince Xin called him ‘Master’… Prince Xin has two masters, one for literature, one for martial arts. So…”

“Wait, cousin, was that the same Xue Ao who berated you this morning?” Han Shuwei finally realized, understanding now why Liu Chuyan had acted so strangely.

“You’re so slow to react. You actually needed me to remind you,” Liu Chuyan scolded affectionately, “But at least you’re teachable.”

“Xue Ao is terrifying enough when he’s not angry, but he actually scolded you—how…”

“So you know now. Next time, don’t provoke such people. I’ll also keep my distance and be careful.”

“I’ll remember. But cousin, I’m hungry. Let’s hurry back.” After the earlier commotion, Han Shuwei’s stomach was empty.

Liu Chuyan was eager to retreat indoors, wanting to avoid Xue Ao and stay clear of Zhao Panyu as well, so she hurried along.

“Cousin, are we lost?” Once they exited the path, the scenery was unfamiliar—a dilapidated courtyard, an abandoned lotus pond behind it, and nothing else. The road back seemed long and exhausting.

Liu Chuyan looked around, listening carefully. “I hear a bell in that direction. Let’s follow the sound; once we find the bell tower, we can locate the guest rooms.”

“Alright.” Han Shuwei was hopeless with directions, so she let Liu Chuyan lead.

But Liu Chuyan had underestimated the difficulty. Following the sound for half a cup of tea’s time, they still hadn’t found the guest rooms, and the bell grew fainter until it disappeared.

“Cousin, let’s not go any further. This place is deserted, and who knows where we’ll end up? Let’s retrace our steps; we’ll find the path eventually.” Han Shuwei, seeing the desolation around them, was terrified.

“Very well, let’s go back. It’ll be tiring, but at least we’ll find our way.” Liu Chuyan’s heart was pounding, worried Han Shuwei might be frightened, but she kept a calm façade.

They walked back for a while and finally found the path again, but Liu Chuyan quickly grabbed Han Shuwei’s arm. “Shuwei, Shuwei, I see a beautiful flower over there. Let’s go take a look.”

“Cousin, let’s go home first. Grandmother and Mother will worry if they can’t find us.” Han Shuwei was puzzled by her odd behavior.

“Shuwei, that flower is really beautiful. Let’s see it.” Liu Chuyan had recently heard Zhao Panyu’s voice nearby and wanted to hide quickly. Now the voice was clearer, and she was desperate, dragging Han Shuwei into the courtyard.

“Cousin, are you seeing things? Where’s the flower?”

“In the courtyard.”

“Don’t fool me, cousin. You haven’t been inside, so how could you have seen a flower?” Han Shuwei resisted, refusing to go along.

“I saw it just now…” Liu Chuyan couldn’t explain, becoming flustered and incoherent. Was there no escape after all?