As soon as she blurted this out, not only was Lu Huaihai stunned, but even Xie Miao’er herself was taken aback.
The Xie family had a long scholarly tradition. By the age of seven, Xie Miao’er was already capable of devouring thick historical tomes as if they were mere bricks. The name “General Lu Huaihai” had been etched in her mind since she began studying history.
She had long known his name and could almost recite his life story backward. Yet, when it came down to it, she had only met this man twice.
Due to her poor health, she was often sickly and vulnerable to catching cold, rarely leaving the house. Within her courtyard, apart from the maids and older women, she had seen so few boys her age that she could count them on one hand. And yet, just now, she had said something so reckless to a man she’d only met twice!
While Xie Miao’er was still chiding herself, Lu Huaihai had already turned back and was looking at her with a trace of astonishment.
The sun had set, and the moon was just beginning to rise. Inside the room, only a single dim oil lamp was lit, its faint light making the young girl’s eyes appear particularly bright, like stars lost in the wilderness.
She had likely guessed the reason he was about to leave like a stray dog running off into the night, which was why she wanted him to stay for the evening.
The young girl, with her thin skin, must have regretted her words the moment they left her mouth. Her small face was flushed bright red, as if she was holding her breath.
Lu Huaihai let out an almost imperceptible sigh, intending to smooth things over and defuse the situation, but before he could speak, Xie Miao’er hesitated for a moment, then blinked her clear, innocent eyes and extended her invitation further.
“I… I don’t mean anything else by it. After all, this is your Lu family’s place anyway. It’s so late, and the second watch1 is about to start. Won’t you have trouble finding somewhere to stay?”
Xie Miao’er rambled on for quite a while. Rather than persuading Lu Huaihai, it seemed more like she was convincing herself.
Though she felt embarrassed, the thought that had occurred to her that afternoon lingered in her mind.
She didn’t want to see Lu Huaihai die young and end his life so abruptly.
But she had only been reborn once; she didn’t possess any divine powers or immortal techniques. If she couldn’t even exchange a few words with him, how could she possibly change his fate?
So, Xie Miao’er had no choice but to muster her courage and try to keep him.
Besides, getting to connect with someone she admired was, in itself, a wonderful thing.
When she thought about being able to genuinely get closer to him in the future and experience his magnificent life up close, Xie Miao’er suddenly felt much braver.
In the past fifteen years, aside from illness, Xie Miao’er had never faced any other real troubles. As such, she had no habit of hiding her emotions. The changing expressions on her face were seen clearly by Lu Huaihai.
First came shyness, then relief, and finally, there was even a faint glimmer of expectation in her eyes?
The inexplicable anticipation in the young girl’s gaze caught Lu Huaihai off guard, causing him to swallow the “no need” that was about to leave his lips.
His original plan had been to crash at a friend’s place for the night.
That friend’s surname was Li, a notorious playboy in Taizhou City known as “Li Yanei.”2 He loved indulging in pleasures of the flesh, drinking, and gambling. At this hour, who knew where he might be enjoying himself? If he couldn’t find him, it wouldn’t be appropriate to show up at his house uninvited.
The night had grown late, and the watchmen were already banging their gongs on the streets. If he lingered on the streets past the second watch and got caught, his father would have to bail him out of the magistrate’s office.
What she said… wasn’t without reason. After all, this was the Lu residence, and she was his officially acknowledged concubine. For him to stay here overnight was entirely proper.
Lu Huaihai’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly before he finally said, “Alright.”
When he hadn’t responded for a long time, Xie Miao’er had been debating whether to continue persuading him. Suddenly, hearing his agreement, she instinctively smiled, her eyes curving into crescents.
—
The two new maids were sisters, one named Dani and the other Erni. They had recently been purchased by the Lu family and hadn’t yet had their names changed.
Xie Miao’er asked them, “Is there no other room in the courtyard?”
Dani looked troubled and said, “There are only three rooms in total. We just arrived this afternoon and only managed to clean up the shadowed side room.”
Xie Miao’er found herself in a bit of a predicament.
The Xie family owned multiple five-courtyard mansions in the capital, where every inch of land was worth its weight in gold. Even the rooms in Qingwu Courtyard, where the maids lived, were far larger than her current bedroom.
Having grown up surrounded by luxury, this was Xie Miao’er’s first time encountering a space shortage.
The two young maids exchanged uncertain glances, unable to understand why this Xie concubine seemed so troubled.
The young master was here—wasn’t it natural for him to stay with her?
Xie Miao’er thought for a moment.
The maids’ side rooms were small, but it seemed possible for her to squeeze in with them for the night.
So, she turned to Dani and began, “Tonight, I’ll stay with you—”
Before she could finish, Lu Huaihai approached, rubbing the back of his right hand with the palm of his left.
In the short time she had been thinking, he had somehow managed to fit in two rounds of shadowboxing nearby. Displeased with the obstruction caused by the climbing ivy trellises, he had even moved them all into a corner.
He truly moved like the wind.
He said to Xie Miao’er, “A mat on the floor will do.”
Xie Miao’er instinctively replied, “Oh.”
Since he had spoken, then so be it.
She thought, although the bedroom was small, there was still enough space for a floor mat. With the bed curtains lowered at night, it wouldn’t feel too cramped.
Thus, she and the two maids set about arranging the mat.
Lu Huaihai didn’t pay much attention to their movements. He had spent the entire day quarreling with his father, wasting precious time.
The principle of “rowing against the current—falling behind if you don’t advance” held true for martial arts training as well.
After calmly finishing his boxing routine, Lu Huaihai picked up a broom and started using it as a makeshift sword. However, the moment he executed the first move, a cloud of dust hit him square in the face.
“Ack!” Xie Miao’er exclaimed in alarm, “Lu Gongzi3, they just used that broom to sweep the courtyard this afternoon.”
Lu Huaihai coughed twice, slightly embarrassed. Blades of grass stuck to his eyebrows as he awkwardly wiped his face and tossed the broom aside.
“No more practice, I’ll go freshen up.”
Seeing his disheveled appearance, Xie Miao’er couldn’t help but curve her lips into a smile.
The great General Lu, who would one day send the invading Japanese scrambling for their lives, was, for now, just a boy her own age.
The vague image of Lu Huaihai in her mind, like a willow branch brushed by the spring wind, suddenly came alive.
For some reason, Lu Huaihai was taking his time. By the time Xie Miao’er had finished freshening up, he still wasn’t done.
Xie Miao’er sat down on the floor mat to wait.
Although the small courtyard was simple, there were enough spare bedding materials to make a comfortable mat.
The experience of sleeping on the floor was novel for Xie Miao’er. She spread her hand and used its width to measure the thickness of the mat.
It was decently thick, which reassured her. The weather was still warm, so sleeping like this for a night wouldn’t risk catching a cold.
She soon heard Lu Huaihai’s footsteps. He was still in his growth phase, and his figure wasn’t broad yet, but as the moonlight cast his shadow, it was large enough to completely envelop Xie Miao’er, who was curled up on the mat.
Xie Miao’er looked up and saw Lu Huaihai’s unhappy expression, which made her feel a bit uneasy.
Was something bothering him?
Xie Miao’er was still somewhat apprehensive. After all, she had only been in this unfamiliar place for less than a day, and the only person she “knew”—albeit unilaterally—was Lu Huaihai. Yet she still didn’t have a clear sense of his temperament.
Lu Huaihai pointed to the bed and said, “Get up there. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Xie Miao’er wasn’t one to seek discomfort. The only reason she had offered to sleep on the floor was because she considered herself the host of this small courtyard.
In her view, that made Lu Huaihai the guest.
Although she had never had close friends or young ladies visit her home, she still understood the etiquette of hosting guests.
How could she let a guest sleep on the floor?
Confused by his insistence, Xie Miao’er raised her head and said resolutely, “It’s fine. I’m very sturdy.”
Unlike her previous life, when she had been as fragile as a willow in the wind, barely able to take three steps without gasping, she had just been helping the maids carry bedding moments ago.
Had it not been for the sincerity in her expression, Lu Huaihai might have thought he had misheard.
Sturdy? Sturdy?
Lu Huaihai lowered his gaze and looked at her ankle peeking out from under her skirt.
It was as thin as a broom handle, and her legs probably weren’t even as wide as his arms. Sturdy? What kind of sturdiness was that?
What he didn’t know was that Xie Miao’er meant every word. After all, in her previous life, she had died from illness before turning fifteen. Anyone who lived past that age seemed healthier by comparison.
Lu Huaihai withdrew his gaze and said, “Sleep on the bed. If you get sick, it’ll just cause more trouble.”
His tone wasn’t exactly friendly. Hearing this, Xie Miao’er pursed her lips but got up casually and sat on the bed.
Fine. If he said so, then so be it. Only a fool would refuse to sleep on a bed when they had one.
As night deepened, the two unfamiliar people had nothing to say to each other.
Xie Miao’er removed only her outermost long robe, leaving all her other layers on. She stole a glance at Lu Huaihai and saw that he, too, was fully dressed except for his boots. This reassured her, and she lowered her guard completely.
It had been a long day, and he seemed exhausted. He had already laid down on the floor mat and closed his eyes.
Xie Miao’er was tired as well. Though her body was healthier, the mental exhaustion was unavoidable. Before going to sleep, she reached out to feel along the bed frame, trying to pull down the bed curtains from behind.
But she found nothing.
The simplicity of this bedroom far exceeded Xie Miao’er’s expectations.
Having left behind a life of luxury, she couldn’t help but feel frustrated.
But after a moment of reflection, she realized she shouldn’t think that way.
To have this second chance at life was something she should be grateful to the heavens for.
Dying from illness hadn’t been surprising. Her parents, though surely heartbroken, wouldn’t grieve for too long. Life would go on for them.
Every breath she took now was a gift, something extra she had gained. She shouldn’t be so picky.
With that thought, Xie Miao’er lay down properly.
Lu Huaihai seemed to have fallen asleep, his breathing steady and even. Though not particularly loud, in the small space, every sound of his breathing was clearly audible to Xie Miao’er.
He… was so strange.
Clearly, he insisted on giving her the better bed, yet he couldn’t say it in a kind way. If her temperament were a bit smaller, she might not have appreciated his gesture at all.
Forget it. None of that mattered.
What mattered was figuring out how to get closer to him, to make him willing to listen to her, so he wouldn’t walk into the calamity that would cost him his life.
Thinking about this, Xie Miao’er, with her thoughts and memories swirling in her mind, finally drifted into a deep, dream-filled sleep.
While she slept well, Lu Huaihai didn’t.
Around the hour of Chou and Yin4—when he was in the middle of a deep sleep—a sound suddenly pierced his ears.
At first, it was a few nonsensical murmurs that forcibly dragged Lu Huaihai out of his dreams.
Propping himself up and sitting groggily with a hand to his head, his annoyance at being woken hadn’t yet had time to surface when he heard the culprit—Xie Miao’er, who had wrapped herself and the quilt into a twisted mess on the bed—suddenly shout:
“Lu Huaihai, wuwuwu, you’re not allowed to die!”
The very much alive Lu Huaihai: ?
He felt a headache coming on.
This little girl, who spoke so softly and delicately during the day—who would have thought that she’d be so bold when talking in her sleep at night?
But why was she calling his name in her dreams?
Perplexed, Lu Huaihai leaned closer to the bed and looked down, studying Xie Miao’er’s sleeping face.
Was she dreaming about him?
—
Footnotes:
- Second Watch(二更): Refers to the traditional Chinese system of dividing the night into five two-hour intervals. The second watch is from 9 PM to 11 PM.
- Li Yanei(李衙内): “Yanei” was a term used in historical contexts to refer to the sons of officials or influential figures. Here, it highlights the friend’s playboy and idle nature.
- “Gongzi” literally translates to “young master” or “son of a nobleman.” Historically, it referred to the sons of aristocrats, officials, or wealthy families, particularly during ancient dynasties.
- Hour of Chou and Yin(丑寅之际): Refers to the time between 1:00 AM and 5:00 AM, specifically overlapping the second and third traditional Chinese two-hour intervals of the night.