The water in the bathroom stopped.
Through the door, Xia Ling could hear it clearly. The Young Master had risen from the tub, and water droplets slid from his shoulders and back, dripping onto the surface of the water with a delicate sound.
Images uncontrollably surfaced in her mind, and her face began to burn again.
She stole a glance at Xia Shuang beside her.
Xia Shuang held her sword, standing straight with her eyes fixed ahead, her face showing no emotion.
She would draw her sword at the first sign of trouble; that was her duty. She would not allow anyone to approach Song Ning.
That included Xia Ling beside her.
Xia Ling felt that peripheral gaze, like being stung by something.
Acting as if nothing were wrong, she moved her gaze away from the window, slowly crouched down with her legs together, and buried her face in her knees.
After crouching for a while, she looked up and saw that Xia Shuang was still watching her.
“What is it?” Xia Ling blinked, a slightly unnatural expression on her small face. “Can’t I crouch for a bit if my legs are tired from standing?”
Xia Shuang was never one for words. She looked at her for a moment and then looked away.
She tightened her grip on the long sword in her arms once more, focusing her mind like a statue standing before the door.
Xia Ling breathed a sigh of relief and rested her chin on her knees, continuing to listen to the sound of water inside the room, her heart swirling with the emotions of a young girl.
To her, the Young Master was a more special existence than anyone else. No one was worthy of him.
No one — not the Qi family, who were old family friends, nor the princesses of the Qian Dynasty.
And, of course, she felt that someone like herself guarding outside the door was even less worthy.
At least, that was how it was in Xia Ling’s heart.
Inside the room, the steam was thick. Song Ning soaked in the tub, the hot water covering his chest while the scent of osmanthus lingered around him.
He kept his eyes closed. Although he couldn’t see anything even if he opened them, he was used to keeping them shut.
In his previous life, he had lived for more than 20 years and had seen all there was to see.
Bathing was much easier for him than for a person who was truly born blind. He knew where the water was, where the cloth was, and where the bath beans were.
Even without eyes, his body remembered these daily spaces. Furthermore, having lost his sight, his other senses had become much sharper.
Song Ning leaned against the side of the tub, suddenly thinking of the two girls guarding outside the door.
He couldn’t help but shake his head with a smile. Xia Ling and Xia Shuang were the ones who had been with him the longest.
Back then, after choosing from so many maids and servants, only the two of them remained.
On one hand, he had essentially watched them grow up.
They had matured from little girls into the young women they were today, and he had developed feelings for them, long ago considering them as sisters.
On the other hand, they were truly sincere toward him and never overstepped their bounds. Both of these points were very rare.
Song Ning scooped up a handful of water, letting it flow through his fingers. He remembered the afternoon he first met them.
That was many years ago.
That year, Mother Song and Mother Qi sent people everywhere to find famous physicians because of his eyes.
Every famous physician, witch doctor, and alchemist in the Qian Dynasty was invited.
That trip was to Qingzhou, as they had heard a hermit lived in the mountains there who specialized in treating difficult and complicated illnesses.
The carriage traveled for many days, wheels rolling, and bumping along the road. Song Ning sat in the carriage, with little Song Youyi huddled beside him.
At that time, his adopted sister was still young. She wore brand-new silk clothes and had her hair in two little buns, looking like a round little dumpling.
She didn’t like long trips, but she wanted to accompany her brother. She was listless along the way, dozing off against his arm.
Suddenly, the carriage gave a violent jolt. The horses neighed, and the carriage tilted sharply. Song Ning nearly slid off his seat.
He instinctively protected Youyi, bracing one hand against the carriage wall to steady himself.
“Who’s the one without eyes?” the driver’s voice came from outside, filled with anger. “Can’t you see there’s a carriage? If you want to die, don’t bring your bad luck to me!”
The horsewhip cracked in the air. “Where did these beggars come from? Get away!”
A girl’s mournful voice came from outside — thin and raspy, like the mewling of a kitten.
Song Ning frowned. He knew there was a famine nearby.
They had passed through several villages along the way where nine out of ten houses were empty, and there were refugees on the roadside from time to time.
He assumed it was children with nothing to eat begging for food.
“Brother,” Youyi poked her head out from his arm, her voice childish. “It seems to be beggars.”
Song Ning didn’t speak but reached out to pat her head.
The pleading outside continued, becoming more urgent and raspy. “Please give us some food, kind sir! Anything you throw us is fine! We’ll take whatever is left over and unwanted! Anything! My sister is a mute. My mother and father both starved to death, and my sister is dying too…”
The driver was clearly impatient. Qingzhou was far from the capital, and she was in a hurry to find the doctor. How could she have time to deal with these refugees?
“Go away! Don’t interfere with our Young Master’s business! If you don’t get lost now — ” The sound of the whip breaking the wind exploded in the air.
“I beg you, just a single bite of food! My sister… my sister is already…” The girl’s voice carried a sob, yet she continued to scream desperately. She had a feeling that if she missed this wealthy family before her, her life might end right here.
Song Ning raised his hand and tapped on the carriage wall. “Wait. Give her something to eat.”
The driver was startled, her voice softening immediately. “Young Master, we still have to go see the eye — “
“We have traveled all the way from the capital to Qingzhou,” Song Ning said, pulling back the carriage curtain and reaching his hand out toward the outside by feel. “A little longer won’t matter. Come up.”
It was quiet outside for a moment. Then came a flurry of messy footsteps, scrambling toward the carriage.
Song Ning felt someone approach, bringing with them the smell of dust and grime. The person stopped by the carriage but didn’t come up immediately.
“Come up,” he said again, his hand extended forward.
Silence.
Song Youyi leaned against the carriage window and looked out, saying in her crisp voice, “Brother, she’s so dirty. She’s covered in mud.”
After a moment, the girl spoke, her voice small and timid. “Sir… I… I’ll just eat something. I’m afraid of getting your clothes dirty.”
Song Ning frowned slightly and reached out again, but the girl dodged him.
“You always say to keep clean and hygienic,” Youyi reminded him in a low voice.
“I meant staying clean and hygienic in daily life,” Song Ning’s voice was gentle. “Right now, it’s more important to maintain a kind heart. Come. It’s cold outside. Come up first.”
The light at the carriage door dimmed. Song Ning felt a small hand carefully climb onto his arm.
That hand was so thin it was nothing but bone, icy cold and trembling slightly. He took the opportunity to pull, lifting the child up.
The moment Xia Ling was pulled into the carriage, she was stunned. It was so warm inside.
In the corner, a small charcoal brazier burned, wrapping her in warmth. The seats were cushioned, exquisite pastries were set on the low table, and there was a pot of steaming tea.
Compared to the cold, hard roadside she had just been on, it was like two different worlds.
She looked down at herself — covered in mud, clothes in tatters, and the straw sandals on her feet nearly falling apart.
Then she looked at the young man in white before her. His hands were so clean, his clothes were so white, and his entire person seemed to glow.
She instinctively backed away, afraid of getting anyplace dirty.
Song Ning felt around on the table until he found a plate of pastries and handed it over. “Eat. We don’t have a meal prepared yet, so eat this for now.”
Xia Ling’s eyes went wide as she looked at the plate of pastries. They were the most beautiful pastries she had ever seen — white, soft, and topped with a tiny red flower.
She swallowed hard and reached out, then pulled back and rubbed her hand vigorously on her clothes before daring to take one.
As soon as the pastry was in her hand, she stuffed it into her mouth. She was too hungry. She hadn’t eaten a proper bite of anything for days.
Grass roots, tree bark, and rotten vegetable leaves found on the road were all she had known.
The pastry melted in her mouth, sweet and delicious. She had never eaten anything so good in her life.
She ate rapidly, devouring the food like a starving little beast. She didn’t even bother to wipe the crumbs from her face.
Her mouth was stuffed full, yet she kept trying to cram more in, her cheeks bulging like balls.
Nom.
She took a bite, but instead of the pastry, she bit a finger.
Song Ning abruptly pulled his hand back.
“You bit my brother’s hand!” Song Youyi jumped up and shoved Xia Ling hard with her short arms. “What are you doing!”
Xia Ling was pushed onto her backside, and the pastry in her mouth almost flew out.
She looked up blankly, watching Song Ning hide his bitten hand in his sleeve. Her eyes immediately turned red.
“I… I didn’t mean to…” With her mouth full of pastry, her voice was muffled, and tears were already welling in her eyes.
“Don’t make a fuss.” Song Ning reached out to stop Youyi, who was about to pounce again, his voice still gentle. “I’m fine.”
He tilted his head toward Xia Ling. Even though he couldn’t see, he seemed to know where she was.
“You can eat any of the pastries on the table,” he said. “You can also drink as much water as you like.”
Xia Ling stared at him blankly as her tears began to fall, but she remembered to nod vigorously.
She swallowed hard, not caring that her throat hurt from choking.
There was only one thought in her mind: ‘I must eat as much as possible.’
As she ate, she suddenly looked up. “My sister! My sister!”
She still had pastry in her mouth, her voice muffled as she stomped her feet in anxiety. “My sister is still outside! She’s dying!”
Song Ning handed her the water cup by feel. “Let your sister come in and eat too.”
Xia Ling took the cup but didn’t drink. Her tears flowed again. “She gave me the last of the food and fainted.”
She was just a child, and with another unconscious child, they would have both starved to death on the roadside if they hadn’t found help.
Song Ning fell silent for a moment. He kept his hands tucked in his sleeves, the spot where he had been bitten still aching slightly.
Youyi tugged on his sleeve from the side, looking up at him. “Brother, let me see.” Clearly, she didn’t care much about the filthy child in front of them.
Song Ning sighed. Since they had gone this far, they might as well see it through to the end.
“Set up camp nearby,” he said to the driver outside. “Carry her sister to the carriage behind us.”