Zisu snorted: “Serves them right!” Then she warned Tianqing, “Don’t tell Miss about this.”
“Of course not. None of the young masters said anything, so how would we dare bring it up?” Tianqing paused, then added, “But what if Miss comes to ask Young Master Lu herself?”
“Probably not… And Young Master Lu isn’t foolish enough to say it out loud…” Zisu frowned. “Besides, it seems Young Master Lu hardly said a word. What are they even doing in there?”
Inside the room, Helan Pei was still writing furiously:
“Mother often says I always lock myself in my room reading. But the truth is, it’s not that I love reading so much; it’s that I don’t know what else I can do. Reading and playing games are both just ways to pass the time for me. Unlike my brothers, who read to become officials later, time is precious and can’t be wasted. The ancients said, ‘Read ten thousand books and travel ten thousand miles.’ But where is my path? Even if I were to marry, I doubt any respectable family would be willing to take me…”
Helan Pei’s brush paused. She hesitated for a moment, then finally blotted out that last sentence with ink.
She looked up to see Lu Shuo’s reaction, but his gaze was still on the first half of her writing. He was frowning and scratching his head, obviously struggling to read it—he couldn’t even keep up with her writing speed.
Helan Pei suddenly smiled and put down the brush.
She had finally let out all those pent-up words, and her heart felt much lighter. There was no need to continue writing.
It was fine that Lu Shuo couldn’t understand; she didn’t need him to. If he had understood, he would have tried to comfort her, which would only have added pressure.
Helan Pei folded the paper.
Lu Shuo blurted out, “I haven’t finished reading yet…”
Helan Pei glanced at him, afraid he might think she was dismissing him, so she wrote on the back of the paper: “You don’t need to finish. I’ve said what I wanted to say, and no reply is needed.”
Lu Shuo managed to understand this sentence. He scratched his face, looked at the paper, then at Helan Pei, and finally gave a soft, “Oh.”
He watched silently as she folded the paper again and again, then held it to the candle flame.
The flames curled around the edge of the paper, burning slowly and steadily. Wherever it passed, the characters—whether or not he had read them—turned to ash. Some ash was carried away by the wind, some fell onto the copper stand.
Helan Pei watched the paper burn, feeling as if her heavy thoughts had turned to ash and drifted away with the wind.
She let out a long breath, stood up, put her hands together beside her cheek, and smiled at Lu Shuo.
Lu Shuo recognized that gesture. On the day he first arrived at the Duke Mansion, when he met her on the path while holding back tears, she had made the same gesture, meaning he should rest well and have sweet dreams.
So, this visit tonight—was it just to write him a long string of words? And she didn’t even require him to understand; once she had finished writing, she considered it done and could leave?
Reading her lengthy passage had been a struggle, but he could still sense the faint melancholy woven between the lines. Moreover, during class, he had observed her writing speed—it was fast, but never this fast. Tonight, it was clearly driven by emotion and heartfelt feelings.
Combining this with what happened during the day, he vaguely guessed what was on her mind.
She was actually willing to share such private thoughts with him. That surprised him. But soon, he realized that perhaps it was precisely because he couldn’t understand much that she had chosen him. Otherwise, why wouldn’t Fourth Miss talk to Zisu or Madam?
It was like when he was younger and got scolded by his parents; he would feel secretly wronged and confide in the family’s big yellow dog. Whether the dog understood or not didn’t matter; he just needed a listener.
Lu Shuo looked at Helan Pei. When she had arrived, her face had been expressionless, even somewhat serious.
But now, her brows and eyes had softened, returning to her usual demeanor.
Lu Shuo pressed his lips together and stepped aside to let her pass out the door.
He followed behind Helan Pei to see her off, then stopped at the courtyard gate, watching her back as she walked away with Zisu.
Tianqing couldn’t help but ask, “Young Master, what did Miss come for?”
Lu Shuo took a light breath and said, “Maybe she was afraid I wouldn’t be able to use my hand in class tomorrow, so she wrote down some notes for ancient poems and texts in advance.”
“Ah, Miss is so kind,” Tianqing sighed in admiration.
Lu Shuo hummed in agreement, lowered his eyes, and went back inside.
Author’s note:
The big yellow dog: Though dead, still alive.