Upon Her Lips - Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Inside the room, Yuran sat stiffly on the soft chair Mu Fei had arranged for her.

She hadn’t wanted to sit on it at all; the chair looked far too exquisite, and she felt someone like her wasn’t meant for it. However, she could only do as the Lady requested, no matter what it was. So, she sat perched precariously on the very edge of the chair, doing her best to support her weight with her feet. Her short legs struggled to maintain a steady grip on the floor.

She watched Mr. Dao Lei enter and leave. She didn’t know what he had brought in, but a small box now sat on the table. She had secretly hoped Mr. Dao Lei would stay; perhaps then she wouldn’t be quite so nervous.

She lifted her eyes and stared blankly at the solitary, elegant silhouette before her.

Lady Mu Fei wore a long black dress of silk satin. It was breathtakingly beautiful; it felt as if such a garment could only truly shine when worn by her. In her heart, Yuran silently marveled. She had always thought of Lady Mu Fei as the most beautiful queen from the fairy-tale books she had once read. She used to imagine that if she ever saw a queen in reality, her majesty would surely wear a shimmering gold or white gown, but now she felt that Mu Fei’s black dress was the most beautiful thing of all.

To her, Lady Mu Fei was her Queen.

Yuran couldn’t help but smile to herself.

“What are you smiling at?”

Mu Fei turned around, catching the girl’s pure smile in her gaze. She gathered her hair to one side as she spoke, picking up the ointment and the applicator from the table. Yuran immediately dropped her head, the tips of her ears burning with embarrassment.

Mu Fei approached her, noting the comical way Yuran was straining to support herself on her tiptoes, not daring to actually sit back. Placing the ointment on a side table, Mu Fei lifted Yuran up—it was a bit gentle, but since she had never held a child, she essentially hoisted Yuran like a little chick until her weight finally settled fully into the chair.

She was indeed frail; she weighed almost nothing. Yuran’s eyes widened in surprise, her entire being filled with a sense of helplessness.

Mu Fei pulled over a slightly lower soft chair and sat directly opposite Yuran, her golden-brown eyes meeting the girl’s. Those clear, black eyes.

“I truly don’t know if you are genuinely afraid of me, or…”

Mu Fei left the sentence unfinished. As if thinking of something amusing, the corner of her mouth quirked up. She reached for the ointment. As she opened the box, a strange, exotic fragrance wafted out. Truly, the scent of the Manzhi grass was somewhat unpleasant to her. She frowned slightly but used the spatula to scoop a bit out, then looked at the little thing who was staring at her blankly.

“Hands.”

The tone was still cold. Yuran didn’t even dare to think about what was happening; she simply extended her hands—two red, swollen little things that looked like carrots.

Mu Fei was suddenly reminded of the two vampire children from the Qi family she had encountered at the manor. Their hands bore no such sores; they were healthy and pampered, never having faced the wind or rain, unlike the little creature before her.

Mu Fei’s eyes dimmed slightly. As she applied the ointment to Yuran’s hands, she lowered her voice, speaking with a rare, soft tone.

“If it hurts, say so.”

As the ointment met the fragile, cracked skin, there was a momentary chill followed by a dense, unbearable stinging sensation, like a swarm of biting ants. Yuran’s hands trembled slightly, but she bit her lip and remained silent, stealing glances at Lady Mu Fei who was so close.

As long as she could see the Lady, the wounds didn’t hurt at all. So, this was it: Lady Mu Fei was applying medicine for her. No one had ever been this good to her before…

Yuran lowered her eyelashes, staring at her knuckles covered in ointment. Her lips trembled uncontrollably, and eventually, she couldn’t hold it back; tears began to fall.

Mu Fei froze for a moment as a drop of water landed on her fingertip. She looked up to see the little one’s face streaked with tears, her expression contorted as she tried to stifle her crying.

Is she crying from the pain?

Mu Fei pulled the spatula away, finding it somewhat amusing. “You are such a crybaby. And yet Dao Lei praised you to me, saying you were a resilient child.”

Yuran stared at Mu Fei, her tear-filled eyes unblinking. She wasn’t a crybaby, and she wasn’t crying because of the pain. She opened her mouth to explain, but being a stutterer, she chose to keep it shut, simply gazing at this person who was as beautiful as a deity. She just wanted to watch Lady Mu Fei in silence.

Those damp, fawn-like eyes made it impossible for Mu Fei to scold her.

“Does it hurt?” Mu Fei asked.

Yuran shook her head.

“Then why are you crying?” Mu Fei asked as she took Yuran’s hand and began wrapping it in medical gauze, instinctively making her touch as light as possible.

Yuran pursed her lips and stammered her answer, “It… it h-hurts.”

Mu Fei couldn’t help but chuckle at the self-contradicting little creature. Looking at Mu Fei’s face, Yuran realized the Lady rarely looked this happy. She couldn’t help but stare, and when Mu Fei caught her eye, she immediately turned red and looked down like a startled rabbit.

This brat is so easily embarrassed…

Mu Fei usually had no fondness for humans, much less human children. But with Yuran—a girl whose courage was no bigger than a tiny bell—she found it impossible to feel any dislike. If others knew that she, the cold and ruthless head of the Mu family, had “happened” to buy chilblain cream and was personally applying it to a human, they wouldn’t believe it.

Even she found it preposterous. She could only rationalize it by telling herself that Yuran was the only human she had taken into the mansion, and thus represented the reputation of the Mu estate. That was all.

As Mu Fei fell into this contemplation, her expression naturally grew colder. Yuran sensed the change. The Lady’s somber face didn’t make her afraid, but she worried she had done something to upset her.

She thought of the stray dog near her old home. Every time she shared her food with it, the dog would approach her submissively and nudge her hand with its head to be petted, as a way of saying thanks. Whenever she stroked that fuzzy little head, Yuran felt happy, able to forget all her troubles.

So, Yuran instinctively lowered her head and tilted it toward the Lady. She wanted the Lady to pet her head, too. She only wanted Lady Mu Fei to be happy and would do anything to make it so.

Mu Fei froze at Yuran’s strange gesture. “What are you doing?” she asked, confused.

Yuran kept her head down and murmured, “P-petting… you might… b-be… h-happy.”

Mu Fei realized that her cold face had made the little thing think she was upset. She was truly a sensitive, delicate little person. This was a peculiar way to offer comfort. Mu Fei’s first instinct was to reject this centuries-wide breach of etiquette. After all, if anyone else tried such a clumsy, strange way to gain favor, she would have loathed them and cast them out.

However, she knew this girl simply wanted her to be happy, without any hidden motive. As Dao Lei had said, since the first day she arrived at the mansion, Yuran seemed to worship her mistress unconditionally.

Mu Fei stared at the back of the little one’s lowered head, the fuzzy hair, and the slender, fair neck. Foolish humans exposed their most vulnerable parts to predators; Yuran’s neck was laid bare before her without any defense. With just one bite, this girl would wither like a tiny flower.

No guard at all. Truly stupid. Mu Fei thought with a mental scoff.

Yet, as she looked at the girl remaining bowed before her, completely surrendering herself, Mu Fei finally reached out. She tentatively touched the fine, soft hair.

The next second, Yuran’s black hair was being tousled into little curls by a cold hand. The sensation… was actually quite nice.

And so, Mu Fei actually petted Yuran’s fuzzy little head, much like she used to pet her pet Ealrs hound. A new nickname popped into her mind: Little Puppy Yuran. Those damp eyes and that quiet demeanor were truly like a docile Ears.

Yuran kept her head down, letting Lady Mu Fei stroke her hair. The cold yet gentle touch made her feel a sense of longing. She knew the Lady’s displeasure had likely faded. By the time the hand pulled away, Yuran’s face was flushed. She felt she shouldn’t be like this—being even happier than the Lady herself.

Mu Fei stared at the mess of black curls she had created. Even though she was the culprit, her mood was excellent.

“What is there to be so happy about?” Mu Fei said. Although her words were cold, the faint smile in her eyes had softened considerably from the petting.

Yuran lifted her head shyly. She stole a glance at the Lady’s smiling face and finally stuttered out what was in her heart.

“My Lady… i-if… you are… h-happy… Yuran is willing… to let you… p-pet her head forever.”

In Yuran’s heart, when Lady Mu Fei smiled, all the snow in the mansion melted away.