Chapter 21: A Gentle Mother

The door was pushed open. Xuanxi had prepared herself mentally, expecting to see a stern old man or a very serious meeting hall. But unexpectedly, behind the door was only a bright small living room, and on the sofa sat a woman.

She looked to be in her early thirties, with silver long hair loosely pinned behind her head, wearing a light blue home dress with delicate floral embroidery on the cuffs.

Her features were seven-tenths similar to Hildegrif’s, but without that cold, distant feeling—her brows and eyes were filled with gentle smiles, like snowmelt in spring, warm and soft flowing over.

When she saw Xuanxi, her eyes lit up.

“Oh my.” She put down the embroidery in her hands, stood up from the sofa, the hem of her skirt gently brushing the carpet. “Hilde, is this the child you mentioned in your letter?”

Hildegrif’s ears turned slightly red. She turned sideways, letting Xuanxi be fully exposed under her mother’s gaze. “Mother, this is Xuanxi, my roommate.”

Xuanxi hugged her notebook tightly and gave a slight bow. “Greetings, Madam.”

Fuleiya didn’t wait for her to finish the greeting. She walked over, her skirt swaying, bringing a faint scent of lily of the valley.

She stopped in front of Xuanxi, reached out, gently took Xuanxi’s hands—along with the notebook—and gathered them into her warm embrace.

“Xuanxi.” She lowered her head, looking at the hands she held, then lifted her eyes to meet Xuanxi’s gaze. Her smile spread from her lips all the way into her eyes. “My name is Fuleiya. Fuleiya Edelstein.”

Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a strangely reassuring power.

“Hilde mentioned you in her letter, said she met a very, very special girl. I thought to myself, someone worth writing home about must be extraordinary.” Fuleiya released one hand and gently patted the back of Xuanxi’s hand. “Now that I’ve met you, I think she didn’t say enough.”

Xuanxi was stunned. She didn’t know what to say. Her lips moved, but only managed a flustered smile.

Fuleiya didn’t mind. She turned and linked her arm through Hildegrif’s, then glanced back at Xuanxi. That look was like gazing at a treasure she had been longing for and had finally obtained.

“You must be tired from the journey. I’ve already prepared a guest room—the one in the Eastern Tower, facing south, with especially good afternoon sunlight.” She walked into the living room as she spoke, then stopped after two steps, tilting her head to look at Xuanxi.

“Do you like flowers? The white roses on the windowsill were cut this morning. If you don’t like them, I can have them changed for something else.”

“I—I like them.” Xuanxi finally found her voice.

Fuleiya nodded in satisfaction, gestured for the two to sit on the sofa, and turned to pour tea. The silver teapot tilted steadily in her hands, tea flowing into the porcelain cup with a pleasant sound.

“Don’t be formal.” She handed the first cup to Xuanxi, her fingertips inadvertently brushing the back of Xuanxi’s hand. “Here, treat it like your own home.”

Hildegrif sat beside Xuanxi, unusually silent. She picked up her teacup, using the rim to hide the corner of her mouth.

Xuanxi held the cup of tea. Warmth traveled from her palm up through her wrist, her arm, all the way to her heart. She looked up at Hilde’s mother’s gentle smile and Hildegrif’s quiet profile.

The tension that had been stretched for so many days finally eased a little in this afternoon, before this cup of tea.

“Rest for a while.” Mother patted the back of Xuanxi’s hand, her smile as warm as the March wind. “I’ll have Hilde call you when it’s time for supper.”

Xuanxi hugged her notebook, nodded, and walked toward her room.

Fuleiya also stood up and walked into a small sitting room at the other end of the corridor. Hildegrif had already arrived.

She had her back to the door, her silver-white hair falling to her waist. Hearing footsteps, she turned around, a rare hint of nervousness showing in her amethyst-colored eyes.

“Mother.”

“Sit.” Fuleiya pointed to the sofa, then settled into the armchair opposite. She took a sip of black tea. “That girl—is she the Xuanxi you mentioned in your letter?”

“Yes.”

“The hundred-year water attribute girl?”

“Yes.”

Mother set down her teacup. The glass touched the coffee table with a crisp clink. She looked at her daughter, her gaze calm yet carrying an insight that left nowhere to hide.

“I don’t really care whether she’s a girl.” Fuleiya spoke unhurriedly, each word steady in the air. “The Edelstein family doesn’t need marriage alliances to maintain its status right now. Who you like is your freedom.”

Hildegrif didn’t relax, because she knew there was a “but” coming.

“But your father…” Mother sighed. “You know him. He’s very old-fashioned. Titles, bloodlines, territories, attribute compatibility… He can list a long checklist, and only when every single box is ticked from start to finish will he nod in approval.”

“But Xuanxi—”

“I know she’s good.” Mother raised a hand to interrupt her. “I could tell from the moment you brought her in. That girl has clean eyes. She’s not the type to covet wealth and status. But your father won’t care about that.”

Hildegrif lowered her eyes and was silent for a moment. Then she did something she hadn’t done since she became an adult.

She rose from the sofa, walked over to her mother, knelt down, buried her face in her mother’s lap, and gently wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist.

“Mother.” Her voice was muffled, carrying a childishness she only shed her disguise in front of her closest family. “Help me. I really like Xuanxi.”

Fuleiya was startled. For so many years, her daughter had always been the calm, composed, flawless Young Lady of the Edelstein family. She never expected Hildegrif to act spoiled—no, perhaps she had always known, but never seen it.

Mother’s hand landed on her daughter’s silver-white head of hair, gently stroking.

“Your father will be back the day after tomorrow.” Mother’s voice lowered. “These few days, let that girl stay close to you. Dress her decently, at least in front of your father. Also…”

She paused, a slight smile pulling at the corner of her lips.

“Your father may be old-fashioned, but there’s one thing about him that’s easy to handle.”

Hildegrif looked up.

“He dotes on you,” Mother said. “And he dotes on me.”

At six in the evening, the knock came exactly on time.

Xuanxi put down the borrowed notebook she was reading, walked over, and pulled open the door.

Hildegrif stood at the entrance, changed into a different outfit—a dark gray long dress, with a silver dragon-shaped brooch pinned at the collar, her silver-white hair tied back with a ribbon of the same color, making her look exceptionally beautiful.

“Dinner is ready, Xuanxi,” she said.

Xuanxi followed her down the stairs. The wall lamps on both sides were already lit, and the corridor was filled with the aroma of food—a mix of spices, the charred scent of roasted meat, and a sweetness she couldn’t name. Her stomach let out a faint gurgle, clearly audible in the quiet hallway.

Hildegrif’s steps didn’t stop, but her ears twitched. Xuanxi’s face instantly burned.

“Hungry?” Hildegrif’s voice came from ahead, her tone as flat as usual.

“…A little.”

“Then eat more later.”

As they continued down the stairs, the aroma grew stronger. They passed through the second-floor corridor, went down the spiral staircase, and walked through the long hallway lined with portraits of successive family heads.

The dining hall was at the other end of the corridor. The moment the door was pushed open, Xuanxi’s step faltered for half a beat.

The dining hall was larger than she had imagined, but not empty. The dark wooden table stretched from one end of the room to the other, covered with a snow-white tablecloth. Silver candlesticks stood every half meter, their flames flickering gently in the breeze.

On the table were at least a dozen dishes. Silver plates held dishes she couldn’t name—some steaming, some sprinkled with gold leaf, some decorated with intricate sauce patterns.

Beside each seat lay three sets of utensils—silver knives, forks, and spoons, arranged neatly. Xuanxi had no idea which to use first.

Back at the blacksmith’s shop in the Border Town, she always made do with a bowl and a pair of chopsticks. Later at the Academy, the cafeteria trays added a spoon.

“Sit.” Hildegrif’s voice came from beside her, pulling out the chair to her right.

Xuanxi sat down where she was directed. The chair was just the right height. Fuleiya was seated at the far end of the table, in the head seat. Her silver hair was tied up, and she wore a light lilac long dress with a shawl draped over her shoulders.

“Hungry, right?” Fuleiya’s voice came from that end, not loud, but every word was clear. “Don’t wait for anyone. Hilde’s father is still out. We’ll eat first.”

Xuanxi picked up the fork closest to her and forked a piece of the dish nearest to her. She didn’t know what meat it was, but the sauce had a flavor she had never tasted. She chewed twice, and her eyes lit up.

“Delicious,” she said, her voice not loud, but distinct in the quiet dining hall.

Hildegrif, seated on her right, also forked a piece of the same meat, her movement identical to Xuanxi’s.

“Mmm,” she said.

Fuleiya’s gaze drifted over from the far end, lightly settling on the two of them. The corner of her mouth curved into a very small arc. She didn’t speak, but picked up the wineglass in front of her and took a sip. The color of the wine left a faint vermilion on her lips.

Xuanxi tried another dish—a fish dish. She didn’t know what kind of fish it was, but the flesh was as tender as tofu, melting in the mouth.

A light golden sauce was drizzled over it, carrying the fresh fragrance of lemon. Her fork involuntarily reached out again.

“Eat slowly,” Hildegrif’s voice came from beside her.

“Mm-hmm.”

Xuanxi nodded, but her fork didn’t stop.

Fuleiya set down her wineglass, propped her chin on one hand, and watched the two at the other end of the table. Hildegrif was pushing the fish dish toward Xuanxi, her movement subtle, as if afraid of being discovered.

***

Meanwhile, Xuanxi was struggling with a piece of meat. Her fork slipped, and she frowned. Hildegrif glanced at her, reached over, and used her own fork to hold the meat down until Xuanxi managed to spear it.

Not a word was exchanged throughout.

“Xuanxi,” Fuleiya’s voice came from the far end. “That fish was just delivered from the North Sea this morning. Eat it while it’s hot.”

Xuanxi looked up, a trace of light golden sauce still on the corner of her mouth. “Thank you, Madam. It’s very tasty.”

“Glad you like it.” Fuleiya took another sip of her wine. “Come often. I’ll have the kitchen make it for you every day.”

Hildegrif’s fork paused for a moment, then she continued cutting her meat.

By the latter half of dinner, several empty plates had stacked up beside Xuanxi’s plate. She had eaten much more than she ever did at the Academy cafeteria.

It wasn’t because she was greedy, but because every dish here was delicious, and Hildegrif kept serving her. Pushing the fish closer to her, pushing the meat closer, pushing the soup she couldn’t name closer as well.

Though the movements were subtle, Xuanxi noticed something—her elbow touched Hildegrif’s elbow. Despite there being over a dozen empty seats, the two of them were squeezed together at one end of the table, shoulder to shoulder, looking very close.

Fuleiya put down her knife and fork, picked up her napkin, and gently dabbed the corners of her mouth. “I’m done. Please enjoy the rest.” She stood up, her skirt brushing the carpet silently. When she reached the dining hall door, she stopped and looked back at Hildegrif.

Hildegrif watched her mother’s retreating back, pressed her lips together, and didn’t say thank you. But when she lowered her head to pick up some food, her eyelashes fluttered several times.

After Fuleiya left, only the two remained in the dining hall. The candle flames on the silver candlesticks flickered gently in the breeze, and the light spots from the crystal chandelier moved slowly across the table.

“Your mother is really kind,” Xuanxi said.

Hildegrif didn’t answer, but she put the last piece of meat onto Xuanxi’s plate.

“I really can’t eat anymore, Hilde,” Xuanxi said, looking at that last piece of meat with a hint of pleading.

Hildegrif said nothing. Her amethyst eyes stared at Xuanxi, her gaze stubborn, as if saying, “You said you were hungry earlier.”

Xuanxi sighed. She picked up her fork, but instead of putting the meat into her own mouth, she forked it, gently divided it in half on the plate—one large half, one small half. The larger half she pushed in front of Hildegrif, the smaller half for herself.

“Half each,” Xuanxi said. “You need to eat too.”

Hildegrif looked down at the larger half, then looked up at the smaller half on Xuanxi’s plate. She still didn’t speak, just picked up her fork, brought the larger piece to her mouth, chewed twice, and swallowed.

Xuanxi ate her small half as well. The two sat facing each other, neither speaking. Probably because they were too full.

From the dining hall entrance came an extremely faint sound, like fabric brushing against the doorframe. Xuanxi looked up, but only caught a glimpse of a light lilac skirt disappearing into the corridor, along with a barely audible, smiling remark.

“That child.”