Chapter Forty: Transition (2)

"Judging by your expression, miss, you’re still angry. How about I offer you a formal apology?" Wei Zhuang asked, his tone gentle and patient, his eyes brimming with anticipation and fervor.

Hearing him soften his voice, the chill in Ye Qianran’s heart eased a little, but she still showed him no kindness, merely giving a cold "hmph," as if she couldn’t be bothered to respond.

Wei Zhuang reached out and tugged lightly at her sleeve, his expression deliberately ingratiating, though his words were upright with not a hint of self-abasement. "How about this: I’ll promise to do one thing for you, as an apology. Whatever you ask, whether in heaven or on earth, I will do my utmost to fulfill it."

Only then did Ye Qianran glance at him sidelong, her tone still icy, though noticeably less so than before. "And why should I trust you?"

Wei Zhuang, perceiving that most of her anger had dissipated, allowed a relaxed smile to surface. "I may not be a good man, but I always keep my promises. If you choose not to believe me, there’s nothing I can do. Still, I advise you to trust me—you’ll only stand to gain from it."

She shot him a look and retorted at once, "Last time, you didn’t keep your promise to me, did you?"

Wei Zhuang gently spun the bamboo umbrella in his hand, sending thick layers of snow drifting from its surface. He feigned a sigh, "Indeed, last time I was at fault. You’d do well to forget it; I wouldn’t want my reputation ruined over so trivial a matter."

Ye Qianran immediately wanted to mock him, "A man like you, and you care about your reputation?" But when the words reached her lips, they transformed into, "Your hot-and-cold attitude is truly overwhelming, sir."

Wei Zhuang raised his left hand, the one not holding the umbrella, to his lips in a show of coughing, his voice distinctly unnatural. "That day… I was in poor spirits, and my words… must have offended you. I hope you’ll forgive me."

Ye Qianran pouted slightly, quite dissatisfied with this answer. "Do you take me for a child, sir? I could tell you did it on purpose."

"I really was in a foul mood and lost control for a moment, taking it out on you. Please, don’t take it to heart."

"Is that so? I don’t believe you."

"It’s the truth…"

"…"

"…"

The snow fell harder and harder as they walked farther away, their figures growing small in the distance. Juanbi followed alone, holding a bamboo umbrella, neither daring to approach nor to lag behind. Her head, adorable as ever, seemed to be working hard at some thought. She still remembered how, just over two months ago, her mistress had smashed everything in her room in a fury, cursing the man called Wei Zhuang with every breath, vowing never to have anything to do with him again. Yet now, she found the scene before her quite incomprehensible.

Ye Qianran herself could not have explained it. Her relationship with Wei Zhuang was as if they were nothing at all, and yet as if they were everything. Though she always pretended to dislike him in his presence, in truth, she didn’t dislike him much at all. She had encountered all sorts of people—gentlemen of noble birth, villains of the lowest ranks—but Wei Zhuang could not be measured by such standards. He was sometimes good, sometimes bad, at times a gentleman, at times a rogue, mysterious, dangerous, adventurous, unruly—a blend of all these made him irresistibly intriguing, like a forbidden cult from a foreign land. One knew one should not approach, yet could not help being drawn in by its mystery.

Ye Qianran stood dazed under her umbrella, watching the figure in dark blue robes vanish into the swirling snow. For a moment, she was lost. Setting aside his peculiar character, he was, at heart, a strikingly handsome young man—rarely seen, and more so for the touch of danger that clung to him, giving off an inexplicable sense of peril. He was nothing like Liuyun. Liuyun’s handsomeness was reserved and stern; he was the general who led armies for the nation, someone to be admired from afar. Wei Zhuang, on the other hand, was like a whirlpool—anyone venturing close enough would find themselves drawn in, unable to resist.

She took a deep breath and stepped onto the stone steps, her figure swallowed by the drifting snow behind her.

Inside, Lulan was working on embroidery by the window. Seeing them return, she quickly set aside her needlework. Catching sight of Ye Qianran’s cheeks flushed red from the cold and her constant rubbing of her hands, Lulan hurried to hand her a hand-warmer. Ye Qianran instantly felt much warmer and was about to speak when she saw Lulan abruptly turn aside, overcome by a wave of nausea. Ye Qianran quickly supported her, trying to ease her discomfort, but after only a few words, Lulan was retching again. Frowning, Ye Qianran leaned in and asked, "Lulan, what’s wrong? Did you eat something bad?"

Lulan shook her head weakly. Ye Qianran helped her sit, and Juanbi poured her a cup of tea. Only after drinking it did Lulan seem to feel a little better.

Ye Qianran asked gently, "Do you feel better now? Should I call for a physician?"

Lulan pressed her right hand to her chest and shook her head, her eyes evasive. "It’s nothing, perhaps just a bad stomach. A little rest will set me right."

Ye Qianran asked uncertainly, "Are you sure?"

Lulan smiled reassuringly, and Ye Qianran finally relaxed a little, turning to instruct Juanbi to help her rest.

But from then on, Lulan was like this every day, vomiting incessantly. By the fifth day, Ye Qianran could no longer bear to watch and insisted on calling a doctor. At last, Lulan realized she could hide it no longer and, with a thud, knelt to the ground. Ye Qianran’s heart chilled, but she tried to comfort herself—it couldn’t be, Lulan was always so calm and steady. She composed herself and ordered all the other maids, including Juanbi, to withdraw.

Suddenly, the room was quiet. The coals in the brazier glowed red, the crackling of burning coal audible in the silence, while outside, the snow fell thick and the northern wind howled.

Lulan knelt with her whole body pressed to the cold floor, unmoving. Ye Qianran sat in her chair, feigning composure as she sipped her tea.

After a long while, she spoke softly, "Now it’s only the two of us. Speak."

Lulan remained prostrate, not daring to lift her head, her body trembling. She was silent for a long time.

Ye Qianran’s heart sank straight down. "You…" was all she could manage before the words caught in her throat.

Lulan closed her eyes, steeling herself, and finally forced out the words, "I am with child," her voice so light it seemed to float up from the earth.

Ye Qianran raised a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes in despair. So, her suspicion was right after all. Over the past weeks, Lulan had been distracted and careless, and she hadn’t noticed. Only when she saw Lulan vomiting did the suspicion arise, growing until she could not ignore it and finally decided to call the doctor.

Ye Qianran leaned down, lifting Lulan’s chin to force her to meet her gaze, her eyes gradually filling with anger, her grip tightening. Still, Lulan made no sound.

Ye Qianran stared into her eyes, her cold voice barely masking her fury, "When did you find out?"

Forced to look up, Lulan’s voice was squeezed from her throat, "A month ago."

Ye Qianran’s anger deepened, a cold smile curling her lips. "You knew a month ago and only now, when you can’t hide it, do you tell me? Lulan, you’ve grown bold indeed." She paused. "Whose child is it?"

She felt the body beneath her fingertips tense, but gave her no time to hesitate, her tone sharp, "Whose child is it?"

Still, Lulan kept silent.

Ye Qianran flung her chin aside with a cold laugh. "I’m the only one who can help you now. You can keep your secret, but you’d best consider the consequences."

Lulan’s face turned ashen, her lips twitching uncontrollably.

Ye Qianran crouched before her, her smile growing colder. "I always thought you were smarter and calmer than Juanbi, so I invested more in you. Did I not teach you the principles of propriety and virtue? After what you’ve done, do you think you’ve done right by me?"

Lulan’s head hung low, her face hidden, but her hands at her sides were clenched tight.

Ye Qianran’s patience finally wore thin. She rose abruptly, towering over her, a fierce look in her eyes. "There are only so many servants in the Ye household. Do you want me to investigate each one?"

Lulan’s knuckles turned white, and just as Ye Qianran thought she would keep silent, she finally spoke. "It was… the young master." Only four words, but they seemed to drain all her strength.

Ye Qianran staggered, her voice as brittle as a dry branch in autumn, "How could it be?"

Prostrate on the floor, Lulan’s voice trembled, "The night of the young master’s wedding, he was in low spirits and came to my room to drink. He talked a great deal. He mistook me for his new wife. I… I… I didn’t know what to do."

Ye Qianran slumped into her chair, supporting her forehead with her hand. All this time, she had assumed it was one of the servants. How could she not have seen the signs? Ever since Lulan had taken that kick meant for her brother, she should have realized Lulan’s feelings. But she had been too preoccupied with her own affairs with Liuyun and neglected this.

After a long silence, Ye Qianran said, "Tell me what you intend to do."

The air in the room was still. On the table, a vase of blue and white porcelain held newly bloomed plums, their cool fragrance slowly filling the space. Outside, the snow fell ever heavier.

Ye Qianran frowned slightly, disappointment tinging her voice. "You’ve known for over a month. You must have thought this through. Tell me."

Lulan bit her lip, her face still pale, but her voice grew firm. "I want to try." She paused. "Miss, you’ve always said that fate is in our own hands. Now that I have this chance, I don’t want to give up. I want to try."

"Try what? To see if you can become the second mistress of the Ye household?" Ye Qianran sat up straight, frowning.

Lulan bowed her head and bit her lip, tacitly admitting it.

With a sigh that was both resigned and disappointed, Ye Qianran shook her head. "My brother does not love you. You’ll only end up hurting yourself."

"Young Master Liuyun didn’t love you at first, either, but you managed. If you could do it, so can I," she said, stubborn and naïve.

Ye Qianran found this almost laughable and actually let out a soft laugh. "I always knew you had a strong spirit, but I still underestimated you."

"I know this will put you in a difficult position, but I have no other choice. You bought me off the street—if not for you, I’d probably be in some brothel in the south, forced to please men for money. I don’t want my child to share my fate. That night, the young master was dead drunk in my room. I thought it might be my only chance."

A sharp slap rang out as Ye Qianran’s palm struck Lulan’s face, sending her head to the side. Ye Qianran’s face was livid, her anger blazing. "Shameless!"

But Lulan pressed on, "No matter how well you treat me, I am only a maid. Even if you wished otherwise, I’d be married off to a lowly servant. I can’t accept that."

"Then why tell me all this?" Ye Qianran arched an eyebrow, her voice as cold as the ice and snow outside.

Lulan straightened her clothes and knelt properly at Ye Qianran’s feet, her voice heavy. "I’m an orphan, with no kin and nothing to lose. But you saved me, and I hope for your forgiveness, or I will never be at peace."

Ye Qianran’s expression softened a little at these words. Sighing, she said, "You’re forcing me to choose. If I help you, I offend Sister Meng. If I don’t, your life is as good as ruined."

After a long time, Ye Qianran rose and looked down at the kneeling Lulan, her voice helpless with a touch of pity. "You and Juanbi have been with me for over a decade. Other than family, you are the closest people to me. I can’t stand by and watch you destroy yourself, but…" She paused, "from the moment you chose this path, you’ll be on your own. No one will help you—not even me. What you want, you’ll have to fight for yourself. You’ll have to tolerate humiliation, endure blame and scorn, and you may never gain the Ye family’s recognition. Even so, will you persist?"

Lulan nodded without the slightest hesitation.

Ye Qianran sighed softly, unsure if she felt relief or something else. "I only hope you won’t regret this in the future."

As she left, Ye Qianran leaned close to Lulan’s ear and murmured, "The reason I never gave up on Liuyun was because I could sense his hesitation, even at his most resolute. Whether my brother has wavered, I do not know. I hope you do."