Extra Chapter
"..."
"Didn't we agree? If one day you and Xiaojing break up, and you come to me crying, I will comfort you."
"..."
But that wasn't what she wanted. She didn't want the comfort that would come eventually; she wanted a heart without traces, a heart that wouldn't withdraw its feelings upon recalling the past. What she wanted was for the Young Master's pure and clear eyes to look at her without reflecting the shadows of anyone else.
Who gave her permission to be so greedy?
Author's Note:
Hmm hmm, another chapter with some steamy bits~~~ We're almost at Volume Two!! Hoo hoo!!!
Chapter 42 Side Story
"Taoxi is no longer a place for leisurely dwelling; autumn lotus roots have vanished without a trace. Once, I served as your minister at the Chilan Bridge; today, I alone seek the Yellow Leaf Road..."
A tender ancient poem was recited aloud by a six-year-old child. The girl's hair, styled in a bun, swayed earnestly under the shade of the green trees. Her lips opened and closed precisely, and when she reached the second half of the poem, she unconsciously blinked and murmured.
"Autumn lotus root... the continuation, isn't that just like a lotus root broken but still connected by threads... Father, are you sure you've chosen this poem correctly?"
"What 'lingering attachment'? You've made such a mess of a beautiful, deeply affectionate poem." A young man in a blue Confucian Robe's robe, his hair half-disheveled, held a rattle drum in one hand and held down his babbling infant son in the other, looking every bit the flustered househusband. "Xiaojiu, stop fussing. Let your sister recite the poem properly. Only if you recite it well will you get milk. Hurry up, continue, the last four lines..."
The little girl pouted unhappily, but her father came up with a brilliant idea. He glanced sideways at the sugar cakes placed on the stone table, and his meaning was self-evident.
If you want to eat snacks, hurry up and memorize love poems.
Her almond-shaped eyes, like Cat's, widened, and her little tongue, like a pug's, darted out from her lips. With food as a bonus, she was eager to get things done again!
"Countless green peaks rise amidst the mist! The setting sun paints the backs of wild geese red as dusk approaches... Uh, uh... People are like clouds drifting into the river after the wind! Feelings are like raindrops clinging to the ground like catkins! I pounce like a hungry tiger, my heart shines like the sun and moon!"
She added a superfluous, frivolous comment, then leaped up like a rabbit and pounced on the pastries on the stone table. Like Cat, she picked up a sweet rice cake and began to munch on it with satisfaction, completely ignoring her father's expression of profound responsibility as he looked at her.
A large hand patted her small back.
"Fuer, your father's and brother's happiness depends on you!"
Zhu Furu, six and a half years old, three months shy of seven, is the eldest daughter.
Family members:
Father, position: minor official in the Ministry of Rites.
Eldest son, Zhu Xiaojiu, one year and one month younger, position: Zhu Household heir.
Mother, Madame Zhu, is of average age and her occupation is: a restless housewife who has been away from home for a long time...
This is Zhu Furu's overall view of her family members; oh, she almost forgot her own position...
Hmm? How should I describe this?
Chewing on a sweet rice cake, she slapped her forehead—it was a prop her parents had been using for their long-term, pointless flirting.
This is the tragedy of so-called marriages based on true love. For the sake of the happiness of the next generation, we should still follow the wishes of parents and the words of matchmakers. There is a reason for the old customs. I have never seen a marriage without love that would torment the innocent next generation like this.
Speaking of the deep love between her parents, Zhu Furu sighed deeply.
Her father was a Handsome Scholar who, aside from being good at composing poems and taking the imperial White Lotus, was essentially a good-for-nothing.
Her mother, a scholarly young lady, was by no means the kind of quiet, unmarried woman who was not good at composing poems, but she could read miscellaneous novels and songs with such fervor that she would forget to eat and sleep.
When they first met, the most popular novel was called "The Handsome Scholar," and so, the mother ran away with the father.
During their romantic time together, the most popular novel was called "Marrying into a Marquis's Mansion and Falling in Love with the Prime Minister," and as a result, his father passed the imperial examination and became an official.
Their relationship was as sweet as honey. Her mother loved and doted on her father from the bottom of her heart, treating him like a male lead, while she herself was the female lead who was not afraid of suffering and could endure all kinds of hardships.
She grew up in this peaceful family atmosphere. Her father taught her Tang and Song poems and nurtured her in various ways. Her mother gave her miscellaneous songs and novels, determined to raise her to be the second generation of the eldest daughter, and then find a male actor as outstanding as her father so that she could live a happy life of true love.
But at some point, homosexuality became prevalent in Capital.
"The Emperor Undresses the General", "My the Emperor's Imperial Son-in-Law", "Two Young Masters Make a Play"...
What a coincidence... Father has been kept overnight in the palace again...
What a coincidence... Father has been appreciated by the Prime Minister again...
As luck would have it... another colleague brought his father, who was too drunk to hold his liquor and was as frail as a willow, back home.
What a coincidence... Mom has started reading novels featuring male homosexuality...
Even at six years old, she knew that in those kinds of stories, the female characters, besides carrying on the family line, were only there to be cannon fodder and make the male characters jealous. So, her mother left a note and ran away.
"I cannot see the true face of my beloved, and I can only lament that you are born weak and frail."
A beautifully written, rhymed poem of lament stirred the father's literary sentiments. Overwhelmed with emotion, he leaned against the wall, his thin lips trembling, seemingly wanting to speak but unable to. But little Zhu Furu saw it all—
"Father, Mother means that even if it's Cut Sleeve, if you're the one being dominated, she'll despise you from the bottom of her heart."
"..."
Upon hearing this, the father knelt down against the wall, his previous surge of emotion vanishing instantly. He wished he could roll his eyes out and glare fiercely at her.
"Father, now that Mother has left, can you secretly tell me if you really have nothing going on with that handsome prime minister and that mighty general?"