Upon Her Lips - Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Fu Ya cast a cold, disdainful glance at the human girl following behind her, who was clutching a bag of food gifted by Mr. Han Sheng.

What a loathsome, lowly short-lived species.

A noble vampire would have required a mere hour to tidy the entire backyard, yet this girl had spent nearly the entire afternoon on it. By what right did she receive food personally prepared by Han Sheng? No, it wasn’t the chef’s decision—it was the will of the supreme master of this mansion.

Fu Ya could not fathom why a mere sub-human deserved special treatment. To her, this girl—a stuttering waste who couldn’t even form a coherent sentence—was utterly unworthy. Anger surged within her, but she maintained a facade of gentle warmth. She took a deep breath and came to a halt.

Seeing Fu Ya stop, You Ran immediately froze in place.

“You Ran, are these snacks delicious?” Fu Ya asked, leaning down slightly with a soft, practiced smile.

Upon hearing this, You Ran immediately held out the bag of snacks toward her and nodded vigorously.

Fu Ya was taken aback. Looking at the girl offering her the bag, she thought: Is she actually trying to give me human food? She looked at the bag with hidden revulsion, masked it instantly, and shook her head with a smile. “This was a gift to you from the Master. We don’t eat such things.”

You Ran had truly wanted to share her food with “Sister Fu Ya,” but seeing the refusal, she tucked it back, waiting for further instructions. Auntie Dai had told her that if she was busy, Fu Ya would pass on any messages. Thus, she was entirely obedient to the woman who had taught her how to tend the flowers.

“How about I tell you a secret?” Fu Ya sat down under the eaves of a corridor. This was a side path leading to the living quarters; at this hour, no one would pass by.

You Ran blinked, hovering indecisively.

Fu Ya stared intently at the girl’s micro-expressions, her peach-colored lips curling slightly. “It’s about the master of the manor—Lady Mu.”

You Ran immediately lifted her head, her curiosity impossible to suppress.

Exactly as expected. Foolish human nature, Fu Ya thought. She pursed her lips and “kindly” shared a secret that could prove fatal.

“To the north of our estate lies a forest called the ‘Forest of Black Mist.’ Don’t be put off by the strange name; it just gets very foggy every now and then. The important thing is, there is a magical little purple flower inside with an exquisite fragrance. It is a wonderful cure for insomnia. The Master hasn’t been sleeping well lately, and no medicine seems to work. I think she really needs those flowers.”

Fu Ya spoke in low, conspiratorial whispers. You Ran hung onto every word.

“If you could find those little purple flowers and give them to the Master, she would surely be very happy,” Fu Ya added at a measured pace.

She believed this girl, beneath her innocent exterior, was simply desperate to curry favor for her own gain. If that was the case, Fu Ya would “graciously” guide her—letting her trade her life for the Master’s favor.

“Are… are… are you asking me to—”

“Of course not,” Fu Ya interrupted the stuttered question, frowning slightly. “I’m not ordering you. I’m just being kind enough to tell you this secret. But you mustn’t tell anyone. What you choose to do is your own business. Do you understand?”

You Ran stood beside her, nodding.

Fu Ya smoothed her features. Realizing her voice had sharpened and startled the girl, she softened her tone, offering a pre-emptive explanation. “I actually wanted to go find the flowers myself—who wouldn’t want to make the Master happy? But you’ve just arrived, and the others…”

She paused, watching You Ran’s face fall. Because You Ran was human, the other servants avoided her. Fu Ya played on this. “The others don’t really want you to stay here. But I like you. I want you to be able to stay, which is why I’m telling you this.”

You Ran was overcome with a mixture of gratitude and a sense of being wronged. It was true; everyone she had encountered that afternoon had looked at her with cold, rejecting eyes, just like her mother. Hearing that Sister Fu Ya was on her side made her believe every word.

After their talk, Fu Ya led her back to the storage room to rest.

The winter night was biting. You Ran curled her small body on the wooden boards, covered by a quilt Auntie Dai had given her. It was still cold, but far warmer than her past. She stared at the dim yellow light, unable to sleep. She used to love the night because that was when her mother would go out, leaving her alone instead of dragging her out into the cold to gather wood.

“Little… purple… flowers.”

You Ran muttered the words to herself. When she heard the Lady needed them, she thought how wonderful it would be if she could find them. She took Fu Ya’s words as a silent blessing to go, provided she kept the “secret.”

…

“Master, these are the transaction records from the Sichao Estate for the past three days.”

Following the man’s voice, a virtual projection of scrolling numbers appeared. Mu Fei watched the data, reciting several names and figures for Daolei to record before the projection blinked out. She leaned back in her leather seat, looking exhausted.

Daolei finished a brief, stern call with a manager at the estate and turned to Mu Fei, who was frowning at the car’s ceiling.

“Master, the hand-over with Mr. Gao is complete. There will be results by the time you reach the estate tomorrow.”

Mu Fei arched an eyebrow in acknowledgement. Daolei checked the time: 3:00 AM. For vampires, this was peak hour, yet his mistress seemed drained.

“Auntie Dai mentioned your sleep has been poor lately,” Daolei asked softly.

Mu Fei gave a soft grunt of affirmation. Between the headache of the leaked Sichao membership list and Yin Silie’s poorly timed visit during her daylight rest, she was frayed.

“Perhaps you need a suitable bedmate,” Daolei suggested calmly. “I could select a candidate, male or female, if you wish.”

“Are you still poking fun at me because of that incident last time?” Mu Fei narrowed her eyes at the back of his head.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Daolei replied.

Mu Fei, his mistress: solemn, beautiful, and dangerous. Having lived seven centuries alone, she was inevitably solitary. Though she’d had a few reckless one-night stands while intoxicated, her pride prevented her from ever truly losing her heart. This had earned her a reputation as an eccentric, temperamental pureblood, somewhat marginalizing her in high society—not that she minded skipping the fake parties, though family business required her occasional, loathed presence.

“I’m not so desperate that I need company to sleep, Daolei,” Mu Fei snorted. She felt Daolei was as obsessed with finding her a partner as her late father had been.

Daolei changed the subject. “I only wish for you to rest better. At this time of year, the ‘Purple Roses’ of the Forest of Black Mist are in bloom. I shall gather some for your bedside when we return.”

“That would be for the best,” Mu Fei smiled. Those flowers had a miraculous hypnotic effect, and she favored them.

However, only someone of Daolei’s strength could enter that forest and return safely. It was cursed; humans would be dissolved by the black miasma to serve as fertilizer, and low-level vampires fared no better. Entry was strictly forbidden to everyone in the manor without Mu Fei’s express permission—a rule she enforced to protect the clan.

“The human world is so quiet at this hour.”

As they drove south toward human territory, Mu Fei closed her eyes, listening to the silence.

“Yes. Night is the time for human dormancy,” Daolei answered.

Mu Fei touched the ring on her finger. Her golden earrings shimmered in the moonlight, matching her eyes and blood-red lips. She suddenly wondered if the girl, You Ran, was adjusting to the manor. The memory of the child turning red while forcing out a “good night” was still amusing.

Daolei caught her expression and tested the waters. “If you are concerned about You Ran, I can contact the manor now.”

Shut up.

Mu Fei sent the thought with such force that Daolei’s mouth snapped shut into a tight line, his lips literally sealed by her will. He sat up straight, rubbing his jaw against the invisible mental pull. He decided that next time, they really should bring You Ran along—if only so he wouldn’t suffer for reading his mistress’s mind.