Chapter Three: Xue Ling’er

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!” The cry of a rooster roused Lu Zhe from his dreams. He blinked sleepily, yawned, stretched, and sat up from the wooden plank, gazing at the brightening sky outside. Climbing down, he fetched yesterday’s water from behind the pillar, took a couple of sips, glanced beneath the Buddha statue, and shook his head. Calling out toward the base of the statue, he said, “I left the leftover bread and pickled vegetables in the cabinet behind the Buddha. If you’re hungry, come out and eat.”

No sound came from beneath the statue. Lu Zhe shrugged helplessly and briskly made his way down the mountain.

Arriving at Qingxi Wharf, Lu Zhe went as usual to Old Liu’s place to collect his work. He knocked on the door and, hearing a response, entered. Inside, he found Old Liu conversing with a girl. Her back was to Lu Zhe, but her graceful silhouette hinted that she was beautiful.

Feeling awkward, Lu Zhe stuck out his tongue and said to Old Liu, “Uncle Liu, sorry to interrupt your conversation.”

Old Liu was not annoyed; instead, he stood up and said, “Come, Lu Zhe, let me introduce you. This is my daughter, Xue Ling’er.”

Lu Zhe was momentarily stunned—his daughter? Was this slender, graceful girl truly the child of the portly Old Liu?

The girl slowly stood, turned to face Lu Zhe, and as her face came into view, he was taken aback. She was a natural beauty, breathtaking and exquisite, perhaps around fourteen years old. Her delicate oval face, gentle brows, bright eyes, upturned nose, and cherry lips were framed by three thousand strands of dark hair falling to her waist, with two locks draping over her shoulders. A violet ribbon adorned her right temple, and she wore a dress of pale green silk, her slender figure accentuated by its fit. She was undoubtedly a budding beauty; even at her young age, she could drive the men of Qingxi Wharf to madness. How much more stunning would she be when grown? While her beauty might not be extraordinary across the entire Shenxia Continent, it was surely among the finest in Qingxi City and even the Oga Empire.

Lu Zhe’s surprise, however, lay not in her beauty, but in how such a lovely child could be born to someone as unremarkably stout as Old Liu.

The girl now observed the tall, slightly gaunt youth before her. He hung his head in thought, and as she studied him, she noted his handsome face, though thin from apparent malnutrition, dressed in rough gray homespun, a far cry from her own fine silk attire. His shoes were woven from straw, the very picture of a laborer. Yet he seemed about her age—an age for study or play, not hard labor at the wharf. This stirred a trace of pity in Xue Ling’er for the boy’s circumstances.

She quickly finished her appraisal. Seeing he was lost in thought, she called out, “Hey.”

Lu Zhe was jolted from his reverie by her voice. He looked up and replied calmly, “What is it?”

The most ordinary words, laced with a touch of childish tone, reached her ears, deepening her sense of pity. With her cold voice softened, she asked, “Who are you?”

“Oh? Me? I’m just a laborer, carrying goods.” Lu Zhe shrugged with a smile, seemingly unaffected by her gentler tone.

She paused, surprised though she had guessed as much; to have it confirmed was still striking—a fourteen-year-old laborer, surely someone with a tragic background.

“I asked your name,” her cold yet compassionate voice pressed.

“Lu Zhe,” he answered crisply, without a hint of hesitation.

“Lu Zhe, is it? Good, I’ll remember you,” she said.

“Thank you for your regard, Miss,” Lu Zhe’s expression was as calm as a still pond. He bowed slightly, in gratitude for her words.

“Mm,” Xue Ling’er nodded and turned back to her seat.

“Uncle Liu, is there anything else?” Lu Zhe inquired.

“No, nothing else,” Old Liu replied.

“If that’s all, I’ll go to work now. Uncle Liu, I’ll be off,” Lu Zhe waved, opened the door, and left.

The girl sat facing Old Liu, thinking for a moment before lifting her gaze and saying, “Father, what do you make of that boy?”

Old Liu was startled, then smiled, “He’s ordinary, but diligent. What’s the matter? Upset that the brat didn’t fawn over my adorable daughter? Wait, I’ll deal with him.” He shifted his tone, feigning anger.

“What do you make of that brat?” Old Liu now asked Xue Ling’er.

“Mm,” she lowered her head, thinking silently.

“Oh? You care about a boy? That surprises me. Could it be... Heh, that brat’s lucky indeed,” Old Liu’s words began in earnest, but then he chuckled as he finished.

“Don’t say such nonsense,” Xue Ling’er replied, her face cold as an icy mountain.

Old Liu accepted her rebuke without anger, just shrugged casually.

“Actually, I always feel he’s different from other boys I’ve met,” she said, her cold voice devoid of emotion.

“Oh? Different? How so? He’s got the same nose and two eyes. The only difference is he supports himself,” Old Liu smiled wryly and shook his head.

“Supports himself?” Xue Ling’er asked, puzzled.

“Not only does he support himself, I recall he also cares for a disabled person,” Old Liu mused aloud.

“He cares for a disabled person? Him?” Xue Ling’er’s brows twitched incredulously.

“Yes, everyone at Qingxi Wharf knows about it,” Old Liu said, sipping tea.

So young, yet already caring for others—it’s true what they say, the children of the poor mature early, Xue Ling’er thought to herself.

“By the way, you said he supports himself. What about his parents?” she asked.

“He has none. Five years ago, he drifted here from the river. We thought he was dead, but after we hauled him out and pressed his chest, he coughed up water and revived. When we questioned him, he said he remembered nothing except his name, Lu Zhe. He settled here and has lived at Qingxi Wharf for five years now,” Old Liu recalled.

“Hmm?” Xue Ling’er was surprised.

“Why would I lie?” Old Liu explained, eyes closed as he leaned back.

Having learned what she wanted, Xue Ling’er left Old Liu’s room. Old Liu, meanwhile, dozed in his chair—the sweltering July afternoon was perfect for sleeping.

Work finished, the afternoon waned—around five or six o’clock. Lu Zhe shook the dust from his clothes, put them on, and headed to Old Qian to collect his wages, when a familiar voice called him.

“Wait, Lu Zhe, I have something to say to you.” The familiar voice stopped him; Lu Zhe turned to see a portly figure.

“What is it, Uncle Liu?” Lu Zhe approached.

It was indeed Old Liu, the work broker. Smiling as Lu Zhe came near, Old Liu said, “So, do you remember my beautiful daughter you met today?”

“Oh, you mean Miss Xue?” Lu Zhe recalled and replied blandly.

“What do you think of my daughter?” Old Liu grinned mischievously.

“Ah, I really don’t know, Uncle Liu. You must have accumulated blessings in your past life to have such a beautiful daughter. I guarantee, when your daughter grows up, suitors will wear out your threshold,” Lu Zhe patted Old Liu’s shoulder and gave him a thumbs-up.

“You only know half the story,” Old Liu sighed.

“Oh? Judging by your tone, having such a beautiful daughter is more a burden than a blessing?” Lu Zhe asked, puzzled.

“Ah, you said suitors will break down the threshold in the future, but it’s already happened. Our threshold is gone from all the suitors,” Old Liu sighed more deeply.

“That’s great, isn’t it?” Lu Zhe was even more confused—wasn’t that a good thing?

“Ah, we can handle the suitors, but you don’t know—my daughter is proud and lofty, and hardly any of the suitors catch her eye. It’s made things difficult for me and her mother,” Old Liu spread his hands.

“Oh? That’s normal—such a forceful girl should make you happy,” Lu Zhe replied, not surprised. For a beauty like her, pride was expected.

“A daughter is hard to keep; in two years, she’ll be of marriageable age,” Old Liu sighed.

Now Lu Zhe was perplexed. By rights, their family affairs had nothing to do with him, so why was Old Liu so eager to discuss his daughter’s marriage? She wouldn’t marry him, after all—girls like her were beyond his reach. Even if he wanted to think about it, she’d never notice him. Better to work harder and earn his pay. Most urgent now was to get to Old Qian for his wages; that stingy man would be glad to dock his pay for being late. Lu Zhe was thus searching for an excuse to slip away.

As Lu Zhe sought an excuse, Old Liu abruptly changed the topic. “Kid, do you remember my daughter spoke to you first today?”

“Yes, she did,” Lu Zhe replied, interrupted in his thoughts.

“That’s unusual. You don’t know—my daughter usually meets children of noble families, but she’s grown so indifferent to them that she doesn’t even glance their way. She rarely speaks, so her temperament is cold and aloof. But she’s so beautiful that the nobles come one after another, even the city lord has proposed, but none caught her eye. I asked why, and she always said her destined one would appear, and even if she married, it would be to someone extraordinary. Because of her aloofness, she seldom initiates conversation, but today she spoke to you first. I think that’s remarkable,” Old Liu said earnestly, his serious expression amusing Lu Zhe. With all that flesh, when he frowned, his face seemed to collapse onto itself, hiding his eyes and resembling a meatball.

Suppressing his laughter, Lu Zhe replied seriously, “Is that such a good omen? Didn’t you say she’s an ice queen? Besides, all our words together add up to exactly five sentences.” He held up five fingers to demonstrate.

“You don’t know, it really is a good sign. I told you, she’s so aloof she rarely speaks, even to the mayor’s son—only three sentences,” Old Liu grunted, then solemnly held up three fingers.

Now Lu Zhe was utterly bemused; Old Liu’s words made it seem as if exchanging five sentences with his daughter was as lucky as money falling from the sky.

“What is it you really want?” Lu Zhe finally asked, losing patience.