Upon Her Lips - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A grey sky loomed over a world blanketed in white.

The valet at the entrance respectfully pulled open the car door for the elegant noblewoman. She moved quickly into the interior; the biting winter chill still felt disagreeable to her, despite the fact that she possessed no body heat of her own.

“Director Daolei, please forgive my negligence!” Manager Hong, still at the entrance as the man prepared to depart, chased after them persistently, bowing with urgent pleas.

Daolei glanced at Manager Hong and seated himself in the front. “Rest easy. There is no need for such rigidity; you will not lose your future over this matter.”

Hearing this, Manager Hong bowed again in deep gratitude. Naturally, he never dared to glance at the mysterious, sumptuously dressed woman in the backseat—her status was clearly a threshold he was forbidden to cross.

For those eyes—the rare golden-brown pupils—belonged only to the pureblood nobility.

Having learned his position was safe, Manager Hong stood at the hotel entrance with utmost reverence, maintaining a ninety-degree bow until the black sedan vanished into the white streets.

….

The heavy snow outside made pedestrians even scarcer. Many shops along this route had begun hanging “Closed” signs, as the road passed through the North District train station.

Public order here was chaotic. Idle youths would often take advantage of such ghastly weather to “visit” shops or traffic “livestock” for exorbitant profits.

Daolei looked into the rearview mirror; Mu Fei was resting with her eyes closed.

“Due to the heavy snow, the original return route appears to be blocked, so we have switched to this path,” Daolei explained. Although the distance was similar to the previous route, this path passed through the common human train stations and was relatively noisier. Mu Fei cherished her silence, so he had to report this in advance.

Mu Fei did not respond, which served as a silent endorsement of Daolei’s decision.

Groups of pedestrians did indeed appear outside the window, their identities obvious from their attire. These were the types who could threaten any shop in the area, yet they dared not approach the black sedan passing beside them.

The emblem on the rear of the black chassis was an insurmountable boundary.

Through the window, the woman in the backseat silently watched the chaotic scenes flickering by. An elderly couple who owned a shop were being thrown out of their own doorway by a mob.

“The two extremes of the Fusha District: affluence and stagnation, separated only by a few streets,” Daolei remarked.

As the car rounded the next corner, the raucous laughter of a group could be clearly heard.

Under a streetlamp carved with the image of the Madonna, a man was grinning as he yanked a child by the hair, while several men standing nearby cheered and whistled.

The girl was shaking violently. she could only let him pull and drag her, as he prepared to haul her away by force.

Daolei recognized the girl at first glance. She was the child brought by the madwoman in the lobby. It was evident that the poor child had been abandoned here by that wretched mother.

“Why have we stopped?” the person in the backseat questioned with displeasure.

Daolei turned his head. “Master, it is that child.”

Mu Fei’s cold eyes flickered toward the base street corner. The girl’s face was turning purple as the man gripped her throat. Even so, the girl did not cry; she kept clawing at his hand, attempting to make the man let her go.

“Send her to that brothel. There are plenty of guests these days who like them young; she might fetch a high price,” the man laughed, eyeing the girl’s thin, frail limbs as he calculated the profit. When the girl managed to scratch his hand, he flared up in a rage and threw her violently into the slushy snow.

The girl clutched her arm in pain.

A youth nearby pointed at the girl’s face with disgust—a face covered in chilblains and splashed with mud.

“Stop dreaming. How much do you think someone like her is worth? You know what the young girls in Boss Feng’s place look like; this one is filthy and ugly.”

Hearing that he couldn’t get a good price, the man grew frustrated. Then, looking at the girl’s relatively fair arms, another plan formed in his mind. He suggested with a leering grin, “Then we should just…”

“Then you should just what?”

A cold, eerie voice finished the excited man’s sentence.

The group spun around instantly, glaring to see who lacked the sense to interfere with them.

A slender black figure, ghost-like, stood silently just three feet behind them.

When had she arrived? It had been noiseless. No one had noticed when this extraordinarily pale and exquisite woman had appeared. She looked unusual—breath-takingly beautiful yet profoundly uncanny.

“I do not wish for this place to become a slaughterhouse, so I suggest you all leave now.” She lifted her head, her lips curling into a slight smile. Beneath the brim of her hat were deep crimson eyes with vertical pupils.

Evidently, the men were quite sensible.

To be precise, they fled in a mad panic. Humans possess a biological, instinctive terror of the supernatural that they have never encountered.

Mu Fei watched the dregs of society—who had been so arrogant moments ago—scramble away in terror. She felt nothing but endless loathing.

“They are quite cowardly,” Daolei remarked, appearing suddenly at her side.

Mu Fei glanced at him and smiled. “Indeed. You, on the other hand, are quite bold. Shouldn’t you have been the one to handle this?”

Daolei shrugged slightly, forcing himself not to look at Mu Fei’s unsettling smile. He felt a bit helpless; his Master had stepped out of the car before he could even react. He had assumed Mu Fei would watch with cold indifference, as she had never before interfered with the laws of life and death in the human world.

He turned his head and asked softly, “Master, how should we handle this child?”

Beneath the streetlamp was a figure so small it was almost negligible. The girl was trembling as she held onto the iron pole, tears held back in her dark eyes. She clumsily wiped the mud from her face and looked up at the lady standing against the light.

The smile faded from Mu Fei’s face. A gust of cold wind blew, scattering some of her long black hair. She lowered the brim of her hat and looked down at the girl with cold eyes.

The girl continued to shiver, her frail body appearing as though it might collapse with a single breath of wind. She looked at Mu Fei timidly; upon closer inspection, the child’s face bore old scars from being beaten.

Mu Fei remained silent for a long time. Finally, she spoke only one sentence:

“Bring her back to the manor.”