Upon Her Lips - Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Han Sheng looked at little Yuran’s flushed face; he knew exactly where her heart was leaning.

Regardless of how thin-skinned the little thing was, he checked the time and immediately dialed a video call to Dao Lei. Since he had to report on work daily anyway, a little personal use was permissible.

Dao Lei stared sternly at the one-eyed butcher through the screen. “Han Sheng, do you have something to report?”

“Haha, nothing much, really.”

Han Sheng scratched his handsome hair toward the screen, while little Yuran hid behind him, her eyes wide as she peeked stealthily at the projection of Mr. Dao Lei.

“I just wanted to speak with the Young Mistress for a moment, if it’s convenient.” Han Sheng squeezed out a friendly smile.

Dao Lei, of course, spotted the hiding little creature at a glance. He remained silent for a few seconds before speaking with regret, “It’s not very convenient.”

Because the leak of the Sichao Manor list had been the work of a maid from a shareholder’s estate, the other allied nobles were not keen on accepting the explanation that it was merely an internal mole. Furthermore, Mu Fei had left abruptly for a night to handle a private matter at her mansion, making this meeting rather unpleasant. Contacting the Mistress at this juncture would likely be walking into the line of fire.

Hearing Mr. Dao Lei’s response, Yuran’s head slumped instantly in disappointment. She only wanted to catch a glimpse of the Lady from afar after not seeing her for several days.

Just one look.

If Yuran were a rabbit, Han Sheng felt her ears would be drooping so low they’d be dragging on the floor.

“Whose call is it?” A woman’s cold voice asked the butler as she walked out of the conference room.

Dao Lei turned immediately, bowing respectfully. “A report from the mansion.”

“Is that so?”

Her voice was flat, sounding as though she were in a foul mood. Dao Lei prepared to put his hands behind his back to end the call.

“Let me hear it.” Mu Fei lowered her head to wipe a stain from her hand, glancing sideways at Dao Lei and signaling him to keep the video feed open.

Dao Lei saw the crimson on Mu Fei’s hand; it seemed some unpleasantries had indeed occurred in the conference room. He hesitated, but ultimately turned the screen toward Mu Fei. He desperately wanted to remind her that there was still blood on her face, making her look quite terrifying.

Han Sheng was momentarily stunned when Mu Fei’s face suddenly appeared, then he bowed respectfully.

“Young Mistress.”

“Speak.” Mu Fei didn’t look closely at the screen; she was busy wiping her fingers with a handkerchief. Those cunning old fools only signed the agreement when she turned ruthless. She could have kept up the friendly facade, but they insisted on making her unhappy.

Han Sheng looked at the very obvious bloodstain on Mu Fei’s face. Honestly, what a bad influence for a child to see, he thought. He began frantically rubbing his own left cheek, hoping Mu Fei would notice the hint.

“Is something wrong with your face?”

To Mu Fei, Han Sheng was half a teacher and her father’s most loyal general, so she was relatively polite to him.

Han Sheng forced a smile and shook his head. Behind him, the little girl had completely vanished from sight. She was so nervous she didn’t even dare look at the screen, merely clutching Han Sheng’s pant leg while listening to Mu Fei’s uniquely cold, textured voice.

“I had Yuran chopping wood for me again today. She was diligent and worked hard, finishing quite well. However—” Han Sheng paused, carefully observing Mu Fei’s expression.

Mu Fei lifted her eyelids, her golden-brown pupils flashing with a sharp light, signaling for him to continue.

“However, she fainted. Doing such work is still quite taxing for a human physique,” Han Sheng reported truthfully.

Mu Fei put down the tissue, a flicker of complex emotion crossing her face. After a moment, she asked, “Is Yuran awake?”

Yuran, who had been hiding silently, felt a sudden shock. Her heart felt as if it had been struck, skipping several beats. She had actually heard Lady Mu Fei mention her name. Was she… concerned for her?

Han Sheng chuckled inwardly. The brat behind him was trembling so hard with nerves that his pant leg was nearly being pulled down. He decided to “accidentally” hoist Yuran from behind him to the front. The tiny Yuran was suddenly exposed to the gaze of the noble, cold aristocrat.

Mu Fei saw the little thing appear and frowned slightly, shooting a glare at Han Sheng.

Yuran’s face was beet red. She turned back to look at her teacher with eyes like a startled fawn, essentially asking: What do I do now?

Han Sheng mouthed the instructions: Say it. Say you miss her.

Yuran clenched her small fists to summon her courage, then blurted out a sentence:

“Lady Mu Fei, Yu… Yuran… is a… a… awake.”

Han Sheng: “…”

The Butcher felt the child really missed the point.

Mu Fei looked at Yuran. The high-definition screen allowed her to see every pore of Yuran’s skin. The scars on her face were better, but several areas of chilblains were still clustered together, appearing worse than when she had left a few days ago. It was clearly the result of being trained by a rough teacher like Han Sheng.

Yet the little thing didn’t cry or complain, merely watching her with shy, adoring eyes.

Always.

“Have you been behaving yourself, Yuran?”

When this question was asked, Dao Lei, standing to the side, glanced in surprise at his Mistress, who had been full of hostility just moments before.

Yuran nodded vigorously. She was very good, so the Lady must not kick her out. Afraid Mu Fei wouldn’t believe her, she immediately added: “W-Wood… no, firewood… always… ch-chopping… didn’t… didn’t laze around.”

A hint of confusion and amusement touched Mu Fei’s expression. She truly found this little creature interesting. Stuttering and panicking—was she that afraid of being discarded?

“That’s good then.”

Since they were in the outer hall of the conference room, Mu Fei couldn’t say much more. She made a sliding gesture, signaling the call be handed back to Dao Lei.

Yuran knew her speech became even more broken when she was nervous. She wanted to tell Lady Mu Fei what was in her heart—at the very least, she really wanted to. She hurried to the table behind her, grabbed a pen and paper, and began writing. Han Sheng watched with interest, surprised by the brat’s sudden burst of courage.

Yuran then held up a white sheet of paper toward the camera, which was now focused on Mr. Dao Lei.

Dao Lei saw the handwriting. His brown eyes froze for a second before he respectfully reported to the woman sitting on the sofa.

“Mistress, I believe you might want to see this.”

Dao Lei didn’t turn the camera back to Mu Fei; instead, he enlarged the view of the paper. On it was a line of writing—a bit rushed, but neat:

 Yuran misses you very much, My Lady 

Mu Fei, who was about to light a cigarette, paused. A rare look of surprise appeared on her face.

She looked at the shy girl holding the paper on the screen and smiled. She said nothing, signaling to Dao Lei that she had seen it, but her softened expression proved the impact of those words.

“Yuran,” Dao Lei looked at the nervous, blushing girl and informed her gently, “The Mistress says she knows.”