Upon Her Lips - Chapter 20

Chapter 20

You Ran knew that Mr. Han Sheng was teasing her about the embarrassing incident where she had burst into tears in front of Lady Mu Fei.

She opened her mouth, desperately wanting to explain that she hadn’t cried out of sadness, but because she was so overwhelmed with emotion when the Lady accepted her flowers. However, the words stuck in her throat, and she ended up flushing a deep crimson from the sheer awkwardness of it all.

Han Sheng picked up his axe and looked down at the little girl. Good heavens, he thought, was I actually just hoping this stuttering, painfully shy human child would become strong? What was I thinking?

“Do you dare to split those logs? Using this?” Han Sheng hefted the heavy axe in his hand, testing the child’s resolve.

You Ran looked at the razor-sharp blade. Finally, she took the axe with both hands and nodded.

As expected, the moment Han Sheng let go, the weight of the tool nearly sent the frail little thing toppling forward. But You Ran steadied herself with fierce determination. She walked over to the woodpile, picked out a smaller log, and took a swing.

The axe was so sharp that even a little force split the wood in two. Had she not been quick enough to move her feet, the blade surely would have struck her. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

The “instigator,” Mr. Han Sheng, watched with delight as the little girl began splitting wood with surprising form. For a twelve-year-old human, this was no small feat. Actually, it was incredibly difficult. By tomorrow, her arms would undoubtedly be useless.

However, the iron-willed Han Sheng was unmoved. He simply motioned for her to keep working.

After a long while, Han Sheng saw that the girl was drenched in sweat. He finally called a halt and handed her a cup of water. You Ran, trusting him completely, accepted it shyly and gulped it down.

“Brat, were you always like this at home? So obedient, doing whatever you’re told? Did you never cry or throw a tantrum to get your way?” Han Sheng was genuinely curious about her past; a child her age shouldn’t be this stoic.

You Ran pursed her lips. She had never thrown a tantrum. She didn’t dare. “No,” she whispered, lowering her head as she gripped the axe handle to continue.

Han Sheng took the axe from her. This child was reckless—she put her entire soul into everything she did, as if she were terrified that if she didn’t do her best, she would be thrown away.

“Brat, I think I know why they dumped you on me.” He was, after all, Mu Fei’s mentor in the art of the hunt. “From today on, I’ll teach you how to survive in this world. At the very least,” he said, his blood-red eye scanning her pure white aura, “I’ll teach you how not to die so easily.”

You Ran looked at him blankly. For a split second, his eye had glowed a fierce red before returning to its normal shade.

“You Ran… won’t… won’t… die.” She spoke with startling conviction. Her greatest wish was to stay in this manor forever, to be where Lady Mu Fei was, and to bring her many, many flowers. To do that, she had to live. Her mother used to say her life was cheap—that she could eat spoiled food and not even catch a fever.

“Well, you’ve got spirit. I like that. Now, finish the rest of the wood,” Han Sheng said with a grin, patting her shoulder while delivering the terrifying command.

Little You Ran didn’t utter a single complaint. She raised her thin arms, swung, raised them again, and swung… performing the grueling labor until the sun began to set.

“Are you coming back tomorrow? Your arms are going to be stiff as boards,” Han Sheng said, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he looked at the girl. Any normal child would be wailing by now.

“I… I will… follow… the Ma… Master’s orders,” You Ran replied. Her wrists were trembling so violently from the exertion that she had to hide her hands behind her back.

Han Sheng chuckled. “Then we continue tomorrow.” It was a cruel pace for a child.

…

Daolei frowned as he listened to the report from the manor. He truly wasn’t fond of Han Sheng’s brutal teaching methods.

“That (damned) part-time chef made You Ran split wood all afternoon, Master,” Daolei reported faithfully.

Mu Fei arched an eyebrow, closing the files in her hand. She looked up at Daolei. “You think it’s cruel?”

Daolei remained silent. He didn’t believe a man who carried the weight of countless lives from the battlefield should be a teacher, yet he couldn’t deny that the “Butcher” Han Sheng was the best at what he did. Still, for a twelve-year-old human girl, it seemed excessive.

Mu Fei saw his concern, but she didn’t stop the training. Humans were fragile, fleeting things in this world. Deep down, she hoped You Ran could stay in her manor for a long time—at least, as long as a human life could possibly last. She had felt this way ever since she accepted those purple flowers.

She looked down at the flower pressed inside her book, her gaze softening.

As a result:

“Brat, more wood-splitting today. Can you handle it?” Han Sheng asked, barely suppressing a laugh as he watched You Ran’s hands shake so hard she could barely hold her cup of milk.

You Ran swallowed the milk, her face turning red with effort. “I… I can!”

If yesterday’s pace was normal, today’s was like a snail slowed down by half. But she persisted until evening, because Han Sheng said the entire pile of hardwood had to be finished.

She was soaked in sweat and shaking uncontrollably. By the time Han Sheng carried her back to the manor by her collar at supernatural speed, she was pale and drifting in and out of consciousness.

“What happened?!” Auntie Dai cried, rushing over as Han Sheng set the girl down.

Han Sheng waved off her concern. “The Lady left her to me; you can trust me. She’s just a bit… physically exhausted. She’ll wake up in a bit.” He fed her a drop of restorative fluid.

Auntie Dai frowned. “You can’t hold her to the standards of a vampire child.”

“She needs to be held to a stricter standard so she won’t be eaten so easily,” Han Sheng replied, his one eye glinting. “I believe that is the Master’s intention, otherwise she wouldn’t have sent the girl to me.”

Auntie Dai had no rebuttal. Mu Fei was powerful and cold in the eyes of others; as a servant, she couldn’t presume to know the Master’s mind. But she felt certain the Master meant well for You Ran, even if the method was harsh. This was the first time she had ever seen the Lady show such a spark of kindness toward a human.

“A human is fragile, no matter how hard they work. Please, Mr. Han Sheng, show some restraint,” Auntie Dai pleaded.

“This child has more willpower than most. If she were a waste, I wouldn’t take her even if the Lady ordered it,” Han Sheng replied. He actually liked the kid.

“Cough… cough—”

A slight cough broke through their conversation. You Ran opened her eyes. “You’re finally awake, brat,” Han Sheng said.

“I’m… I’m sor… sorry.” You Ran realized she had fainted from exhaustion. She was mortified. If Lady Mu Fei found out, would she be kicked out of the manor? She scrambled to her feet, wanting to get back to work, but a wave of dizziness forced her to grab the arm of the chair.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Han Sheng asked.

You Ran stammered. She didn’t actually know where the wood cabin was; Han Sheng always carried her there so fast she couldn’t track the path. “The… wood…” The wood isn’t finished.

Han Sheng understood. He looked out at the moon. “I won’t tell the Lady. You did well today.”

You Ran’s face lit up with a joy that finally matched her age. Her worry vanished. She picked up a pen and paper nearby—she had realized that writing was much faster than stuttering when Han Sheng got impatient.

She wrote in neat, clear strokes: When can I see the Master?

She didn’t know how to write the characters for “Mu Fei” yet.

“You want to see the Master?” Han Sheng asked bluntly.

You Ran turned beet red. She didn’t dare say “yes,” but every fiber of her being was screaming it.