Upon Her Lips - Chapter 31

Chapter 31

When the doors opened once again, the broken porcelain and scattered cherries had already been cleared away.

Mu Fei looked at Aunt Dai, who had just come upstairs carrying a fresh platter of fruit—cherries, once again.

“If you are so afraid in your heart, why come up anyway?” Mu Fei said, her eyelids drooping as she looked at Aunt Dai, who had paused halfway up the corridor.

Aunt Dai’s hand trembled visibly. She saw Mu Fei’s slightly pallid complexion and understood immediately: her Master needed to feed. In the half-shadowed room behind her, the scent of a human was gone.

Could Yuran have… Aunt Dai’s heart skipped a beat.

“I saw the little one bringing you fruit and was worried she’d made a mistake since she hadn’t returned,” Aunt Dai said, her voice a forced calm. She didn’t know what had transpired behind those doors. If her fears were true, she would never forgive herself.

“You’re worried I ate her.” Mu Fei smiled at her loyal old servant. She hadn’t expected the strictest housekeeper in the mansion to form such a bond with Yuran. The little thing truly was likable.

Aunt Dai frowned slightly and lowered her head. She couldn’t deny it, but she didn’t dare admit it. Mu Fei, not wishing to trouble her old servant further, called out to the room.

“Yuran, come here.”

Immediately, a small dark figure jogged to Mu Fei’s side. Standing at the door, she saw Aunt Dai.

“A-Aunt Dai,” she said in her usual timid voice.

Unscathed. But the human scent was missing. Aunt Dai looked Yuran up and down, confused, then cast a questioning glance at Mu Fei.

“I gave her a ring. You should know what it is; I won’t say more.” Mu Fei leaned against the doorframe, her face looking even more sickly than before.

Aunt Dai realized the truth instantly. She hurried forward to support her reckless young Master, feeling a wave of shame for suspecting that she had consumed Yuran. In truth, if Yuran had appeared while the Master needed to feed, being consumed would have been a small matter—the world would simply have one less “poor thing,” and who would remember? But Aunt Dai didn’t want that to happen.

“Master, I will go prepare the [refrigerated blood] at once.”

Aunt Dai’s eyes held a trace of worry. She was concerned about Mu Fei’s long fast, especially with the Campbell family banquet tonight.

“Your brows are practically reaching the sky, Aunt Dai. Am I so fragile that I require such concern?” Mu Fei said flatly. Though cold on the surface, she understood the devotion of her servants. To her, these were trifles. She could control her bloodlust—so long as she avoided alcohol. Yuran’s attraction was merely an anomaly; she had never seen a soul so pure, jumping joyfully under the sun. For a moment, she had envied it.

“Master, for the Campbell banquet tonight… will you still go?”

Mu Fei snorted and patted Aunt Dai’s shoulder. Extracting a drop of heart-blood wouldn’t weaken her that much. Besides, if she didn’t attend, Beatrice Campbell would certainly come knocking. She hated trouble. Furthermore—

Mu Fei looked down at Yuran standing obediently by her side. She wanted to take the little thing with her. It was the second daughter’s birthday tonight, and many children would be there. Yuran was always working or training with Han Sheng; she deserved some leisure.

“Aunt Dai, go prepare. Come back for her later.” Mu Fei dismissed the housekeeper.

Aunt Dai nodded, then remembered the cherries. “Master, these were picked today. Would you like to try them?”

Mu Fei looked at the ruby-red fruit. After a pause, she said, “Leave them.”

…

Once the room was quiet, Mu Fei sat on the sofa. Outside, the bright morning sky was being swallowed by dark clouds—true Northern District weather.

“Master.” Yuran placed the tray on the table and stood to the side.

Mu Fei held a thin cigarette between her fingers. She thought of lighting it, but eventually put it down. “I am attending a banquet tonight. I imagine you’ve heard.”

Yuran nodded. She had heard the whispers about the beautiful gown.

“Do you want to come with me?” Mu Fei’s golden-brown eyes watched for the slightest flinch.

Yuran froze, looking up in shock as if the Lady had misspoke. Seeing no retraction, she blinked her black eyes and whispered, “I… I do.”

To go anywhere with the Lady—that was her only wish.

“Dao Lei suggested you attend as my vassal (a close attendant) to get some fresh air. I thought about it,” Mu Fei played with a cherry, “and his suggestion is sound. Consider it a reward for your work this morning.”

Yuran’s eyes widened. The Lady knew. She knew about the linens in the backyard. Yuran lowered her head and smiled. “Yes, Yuran… very much… wants to.”

…

That Night

There wasn’t a single star in the Northern sky, but Mu Fei was starlight enough. In her skin-tight, purple-black gown, she was breathtaking. Yuran watched, mesmerized, as Dao Lei helped the Lady into the car.

“Yuran, you sit with me in the other car,” the handsome butler said.

Yuran nodded and scurried into the second black vehicle, sitting perfectly still for fear of being kicked out.

“Don’t be so stiff. The Master isn’t here,” Dao Lei consoled her through the rearview mirror.

As the cars sped toward the heavily guarded Campbell domain, the “Misty Mountain Banquet” loomed ahead. Even the freezing wind couldn’t mask the oppressive scent of high-ranking purebloods. Mu Fei stepped out, leaning slightly on Dao Lei’s arm.

Inside the hall, elegant violin music filled the air. The atmosphere was… subtle. Everyone was excited to see the “Master of the High Pavilion,” a recluse known for her eccentric temper and for having wiped out an entire clan in a single night. Rumors of a scandal with the Campbell heir only added to the intrigue.

As Mu Fei entered in her dark gown, a stir rippled through the crowd. Countless eyes—curious, stunning, or malicious—turned toward her. But the view was soon blocked by a woman in wine-red.

“Excellency Mu Fei, you’ve finally arrived.” The voice was melodious and pleasant.

Mu Fei looked up and smiled thinly. “The wind and snow couldn’t block your passion, Excellency Beatrice Campbell.”

“My passion for you will never fade,” Beatrice said, her grey-gold eyes tracing Mu Fei’s silhouette—eyes, nose, lips—with a gaze that was both deep and nakedly suggestive. Then she noticed the two behind Mu Fei. Dao Lei… and a small, thin girl.

“It is my sister’s birthday, but I didn’t expect the Excellency to have a child in her mansion,” Beatrice said, her sharp gaze sweeping over the bowed Yuran.

Mu Fei stepped forward, physically blocking Beatrice’s view. Her voice dropped to a low hiss. “Who resides in my mansion is no concern of yours.”

Beatrice smiled and handed Mu Fei a glass of low-concentration vodka. Her eyes softened with a dangerous glint. “Of course not. I just think… it’s wonderful.”