Cold Notes in the Little Tower - Chapter 2

I followed Sushui about, and she always taught me work for the back courtyard.

Needlework, for instance. Brewing tea, simmering medicine, and airing books in the sun.

One bright midsummer day, a downpour came without warning.

We had spread books all over the courtyard. Gathering them up was a desperate scramble.

Every one of us was soaked through.

Sushui paid no attention to herself. She came to dry my hair first.

Quick-witted Duruo pinched my cheek. “To think a stingy girl like Sushui has fed you up so round and rosy!

“Come on, Fuyuan. What spell have you cast on her?”

Sushui slapped her hand away and spat back, “So you’re allowed to call everyone you meet your dearest friend, but I can’t have one sister close to my heart?”

I had asked Sushui why she took such special care of me.

Even on the coldest winter nights, she would leave her arm outside the covers from time to time.

Just so she could tuck my quilt in whenever I needed it.

Young Master Fu’s courtyard had its own kitchen. Whenever she got something good to eat, if there were two portions, one was always mine. If there was only one, she saved that for me too.

Holding a honey cake, I looked at her expectant eyes and felt my nose sting.

She treated me better than my own mother did.

“Sister Sushui, surely you’re not this kind to me just because I look a little like your younger sister?”

Sushui went still. The spring wind shook pear blossoms down, scattering broken white petals across the ground.

“I don’t quite know myself…” She awkwardly smoothed the wisps of hair at her temples.

A soft, bitter laugh escaped her, and her eyes reddened.

“Fuyuan, when I look at you, I see myself when my father first sold me here.”

She had been as white and unblemished as a pear blossom then, untouched by the dust of the world.

Before that, her greatest worries had been an empty stomach and clothes too thin to keep her warm.

Now, food and warm clothing were all she had left.

In her masters’ eyes, a bowl of soup or a piece of cake canceled out every beating, every insult, every humiliation.

But what of Sushui?

She was flesh and blood. How could she have no heart, no feelings?

The pear blossom was broken and trampled into the mud, and she had no say in any of it.

Sushui wanted to protect me.

To protect the carefree girl she had once been.

That was why she deliberately kept me from drawing Young Master Fu’s notice.

I hugged her and heard her ask, “Is the honey cake sweet, Fuyuan?”

“Sister, it’s sweet. It really is.”

Yet the next time I saw honey cakes, it was when Young Master Fu summoned me to be his “jade platter.”

For the first time, I learned what it was to kneel on both knees, my hands raised high.

The exquisite platter rested in my palms.

An old serving woman stood nearby to watch. If I trembled even a little and offended our noble guests, a beating would be waiting afterward.

So this was what it felt like to stay on my knees to stay alive.

Sushui said she had begun kneeling at fourteen.

Kneeling to put shoes on her master. Kneeling to warm his feet. Kneeling to pour his tea and bring him water.

She was eighteen now. Kneeling had weakened her knees and bent her back.

But I had not been on my knees long before a hand with well-defined knuckles caught my sleeve.

“Why humiliate a maid like this?”

His voice was clear and gentle. Just hearing it, I could imagine how kind and mild the young man’s face must be.

“You certainly have a soft spot for a pretty girl, my lord!” Young Master Fu said ingratiatingly.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him tip his chin at me. Only then did I dare stand.

But this was my first time serving as a platter stand. My legs and feet had gone numb, and I accidentally stepped on my skirt.

I lost my balance. In my panic, I flung the entire plate of cakes down the front of the vice minister’s robe.

My blood seemed to rush the wrong way. Terrified, I dropped to my knees again, my arms shaking uncontrollably.

The instant my eyes met Xue Keji’s, I thought I could already see the road to the underworld.

It was a cool Mid-Autumn night. A full moon hung beyond the open window behind him. He was not angry. With an easy shake of the front of his robe, he brushed off the crumbs.

Young Master Fu rushed over, his hand raised to strike me. “You damned little bitch! How dare you—”

“No harm done.” Xue Keji rose, his mist-green robe brushing softly across my face.

Like pine and bamboo. Like the bright moon and a clear spring.

He shielded me behind him, stopping Young Master Fu with effortless tact.

“Surely grown men like us needn’t take issue with a young girl.”

Young Master Fu was pleased, but he still hauled me roughly to my feet.

I was slight. Beside this Vice Minister of War, I did not even reach his chin.

The reek of wine on Young Master Fu brought Sushui’s deep terror home to me with a sudden, personal force.

Xue Keji spoke up for me again. “Please let go of her, Young Master Wang.”

Before I could struggle, Young Master Fu released me and flung me into Xue Keji’s arms.

Strong hands steadied my shoulders.

Through my thin clothing, the heat of his palms traveled all the way to my heart.

“Since this little maid has caught your eye, Lord Xue, allow me to oblige. I shall give her to you as a servant-concubine.”

Xue Keji meant to refuse politely. Seeing him start to wave the offer away, I quickly turned and pressed myself against his chest.

I stood on tiptoe, my eyes brimming, and held his gaze.

In that handsome, refined face, his eyes shone like stars.

“My lord,” I whispered, trembling, “please. I don’t want to be beaten to death…”

Sushui said my round eyes were like a lamb’s. All I had to do was look up pitifully, and people would take pity on me.

I was staking my life on one moment of softness in Xue Keji’s heart.