"That's Lu Shuo. We're taking him to see his quarters now. Do you want to come?" Helan Zhen asked his sister, looking down.
Helan Pei's gaze shifted from Lu Shuo, who stood in the rain, to Helan Zhen. She shook her head gently.
Helan Chang said, "The kitchen made some new pastries. We already had some—they're quite good. Have Zisu get some for you."
Zisu, Helan Pei's maid, laughed from the side. "The kitchen already sent some over."
Helan Chang: "Did you eat any?"
Zisu: "The young lady just returned from seeing the master and hasn't eaten yet."
Helan Rong: "Father has gone to the palace. Dinner will definitely be delayed tonight. Have a few more to tide you over."
Helan Pei nodded.
Helan Zhen: "Then we'll be off?"
Helan Pei nodded again.
She stood under the eaves, watching her brothers leave with Lu Shuo in his hemp mourning clothes. After they passed the courtyard wall, she moved forward a few steps, leaning out slightly to see their retreating figures.
Raindrops dripped from the eaves. Zisu reached out and gently turned Helan Pei's shoulder back. "Young lady, you'll catch a chill."
Helan Pei pointed after them.
Zisu had served her for years and was adept at guessing her meaning. "You're curious about that Lu Shuo, aren't you?"
Helan Pei scratched the wall shyly, then pointed at her clothes, made a fist near her eyes, and twisted it as if crying.
Zisu said, "He's still in mourning clothes. Losing his parents so young—it's truly pitiful."
She swallowed the rest: though he had lost his parents, entering the Duke Mansion and living like a young master was a blessing in disguise. Countless people would envy him.
The figures were no longer visible. Helan Pei slowly turned and walked inside.
Pastries from the kitchen sat on the table. Helan Pei picked one up and took a bite; her eyes lit up.
Zisu said, "You like it? I'll tell the kitchen to make them often."
Chewing the pastry, Helan Pei wiped her fingers with a handkerchief, then picked up a brush and wrote swiftly on the spread-out paper: "Tasty, but too much oil and sugar. Not good to eat often. Once every ten days is fine."
Zisu glanced at it. "You're still young. A few more bites won't hurt."
Helan Pei shook her head seriously and pointed at her teeth.
Zisu let out a long "Oh" and smiled knowingly. "You've finished losing your baby teeth and are worried about cavities?"
Helan Pei nodded.
"You're so disciplined," Zisu praised. "Second and Third Young Masters still indulge their sweet tooth."
Helan Pei wrote again: "Brothers say the food at the Imperial Academy is bland. They're rarely home, so occasional indulgence is understandable. But I stay at home all the time; I can't be so lax, or I'll let myself go."
Zisu smiled at the first half, but her smile faded as she read the rest. She sighed silently.
She was a servant born in the Duke Mansion, only five years older than the young lady. She had witnessed Helan Pei's growth from infancy. She remembered how sweet and crisp her voice used to be, like a freshly picked pear. The girl was adorable, clever, and never caused trouble—everyone in the mansion loved her.
But five years ago, the former emperor fell ill and died. The master and his elder brother clashed over the succession, and the master moved out of the Duke Mansion into an ordinary residence in the capital.
The coup in the palace came swiftly. With both sides evenly matched, the chaos lasted three full days and nights. The clashing of weapons echoed before the palace gates, and ordinary people dared not leave their homes.
While the master fought for the crown prince in the palace, the six-year-old young lady, perhaps affected by the changing seasons, suddenly developed a fever.
The household had medicine, but several doses only brought temporary relief before the fever returned. At first, she cried from the pain, but later, burning with fever, she stopped crying altogether.
The madam was frantic, but outside, everything was in turmoil—where could they find a doctor? Besides, they supported the empress and crown prince; staying home with guards for protection was safer than risking the streets, where they might encounter the imperial consort's faction.
So the young lady took ineffective medicine and burned for three days.
Three days later, the coup ended, and the crown prince ascended the throne as scheduled.
The madam sent a message to the master in the palace. Shocked, the master begged the empress dowager for a favor and brought an imperial physician home.
The physician said she could be saved with strong medicine, but after such a prolonged fever, there would likely be lasting effects.
The master and madam said they would accept it even if she became a fool. But mercifully, she didn't become a fool—she just lost her voice completely.
Zisu thought: if she had been born mute, it might have been easier. But she was six, could remember many things, even recite poems. To suddenly lose her voice was truly heaven's blindness.
Zisu once overheard the master confessing to the madam, wondering if he shouldn't have meddled in imperial affairs, and whether heaven was punishing his daughter instead. But what fault had she?
Perhaps out of guilt, even after becoming Duke Xuan and a trusted noble under the emperor, the master took no concubines and had no more children.
As for the young lady herself, after the initial pain and frustration, she gradually accepted her reality.
She still smiled, but less often. She still showed affection to her family, but was reluctant to go out with them.
Zisu remembered how the young lady used to love going out with her mother, visiting other households, saying auspicious words, and cadging candy from the elders.
Now she never went to those lively places. She stayed home, mostly reading alone.
Since most communication required writing, which was cumbersome, she rarely initiated conversations beyond necessary questions.
Sometimes Zisu didn't know what she was thinking. She only knew that after reading many miscellaneous books, the young lady spoke with a mature tone when not being coy or discussing serious matters.
Yet she looked like an adorable, jade-like child.
Helan Pei ate another pastry, then pointed at the last one on the plate, and then at Zisu.