Upon Her Lips - Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Is this how humans celebrate their festivals?

It was truly lively.

Mu Fei came to a halt just before the entrance of the Flower Street, quietly watching the ceaseless flow of people and the warm, shimmering lanterns that cast a soft glow. Joy seemed to radiate from every face she saw.

Yuran stood obediently beside her, looking up at the Lady who had stopped in her tracks.

“Are you feeling a bit overwhelmed?” Mu Fei asked, looking down at the little thing who seemed both wide-eyed with wonder and tightly clutching a handful of her coat.

Ever since Yuran arrived at the mansion, she had stayed within Mu Fei’s domain. Aside from that dangerous excursion to the Black Mist Forest, she had never left the private estate. Since then, she had been occupied with Han Sheng’s physical training; she hadn’t had contact with “real” humans like herself.

Yuran was carefully tugging at the edge of her skirt. Mu Fei allowed her to keep that tiny grip with her small fingers; with so many pedestrians, it was a practical way to ensure Yuran didn’t get lost.

“My Lady, I… I’m okay,” Yuran whispered, reporting from her small inner world. Being suddenly brought to such a bustling street was entirely novel to her.

In the past, during festivals, she could only watch from afar as the streets were decorated with lanterns. Her mother had never brought her to markets like this; these were places for wealthy families. Seeing the well-dressed adults and happy children in the shops, she had always felt like an outsider.

But now, she was with her Lady. Because her Lady had brought her here, Yuran felt no sense of inferiority. To her, the Lady was a person who carried a faint light even in the dark, making her happy to follow like a shadow.

However, Yuran knew the Lady preferred quiet. Seeing the noisy street, she began to worry that the Lady might be the one who was uncomfortable.

“My Lady,” Yuran chirped, giving the coat-edge a tiny tug.

Mu Fei looked down, signaling that she could speak freely.

Yuran pursed her lips and said slowly, “My Lady, actually… Yuran is… no longer hungry. So…”

Mu Fei’s somber eyes flickered. The crowd indeed made her uneasy, but Yuran had sensed it immediately and was trying to suppress her own hunger to accommodate her. Being worried over by a human child several centuries younger than herself was a feeling somewhere between touched and embarrassed.

Mu Fei squatted down and, before Yuran could react, reached out and pinched her small cheek.

“Yuran.”

“P-present!” Yuran stood stiffly, allowing the cold fingertips to slide across her skin as she felt the slight pressure of the pinch.

“You are allowed to be selfish for once tonight. It’s a rare chance to relax. You can eat whatever you want, buy whatever you want. Just remember to listen to Han Sheng when we go back, understood?”

As Mu Fei spoke, her voice was as cold as a demon’s whisper, yet the content was incredibly reassuring—there was even a hint of indulgence in it. It seemed the girl at the hotel hadn’t lied; the chilblain cream was working, and the scars on Yuran’s face were almost gone.

Yuran stared blankly at her, then nodded in a daze. The Lady is the best person in the world…

Seeing Yuran’s expression—halfway to tears and full of adoration—Mu Fei sighed inwardly. Is the little thing stunned? Whether she’s happy or sad, she always looks so silly.

Mu Fei let go of her cheek and stood up, looking toward a shop front where many children were gathered. It smelled of cream and vanilla—a sweet shop. No child can resist sweets, and Yuran was no exception.

Yuran’s stomach let out a sudden, betraying growl. The little thing who had just claimed she wasn’t hungry looked mortified.

Mu Fei pointed to the shop. “Go and see.”

“Y-yes, My Lady!” Yuran was like a puppy about to wag its tail. She walked happily toward the shop, her eyes so fixed on the Lady that she occasionally tripped on the stone steps, though she recovered easily each time.

It was a cotton candy stand. At the pushcart outside the shop, a pastry chef in a white hat was making marshmallows shaped like animal faces. Yuran watched a child her age receive a giant raccoon-faced marshmallow and felt a smile spread across her own face.

Mu Fei watched her. A bit of fluffy sugar made her look like a happy little idiot. She felt a tiny bit of “contempt” for the simplicity of it, but she reached out and handed Yuran a gold coin.

Yuran looked at the shining coin in her palm, then at the Lady in shock. This is too much!

A rare look of slight awkwardness crossed Mu Fei’s face. She never carried cash; usually, servants or Dao Lei handled all payments. This was her first time shopping in a human market in centuries. Fortunately, she had found a few gold coins Dao Lei had left in a compartment in the car and taken them with her.

She didn’t say anything, just waved her hand for Yuran to go. Yuran gripped the coin and walked toward the cart, looking back every three steps to make sure the Lady was still there.

Mu Fei stood under a streetlamp, watching the small figure wait in line. Even in the dense crowd, Yuran was easy to spot. Has she grown a little taller? Mu Fei wondered, then shook her head at her own bored thoughts. She pulled out a cigarette case and placed a cigarette between her lips.

Given the length of the line, she had time for one. But she didn’t light it. Dao Lei’s voice—“Smoking in front of children is a bad influence”—rang in her ears like a curse. Mu Fei’s expression soured. If Yin Sili knew she was quitting for a human child, she’d never hear the end of it.

“Tsk.”

She tucked the cigarette away and stood alone under the light, cold and aloof. Even with her hat obscuring half her face, she drew gazes of admiration, yet her icy aura drew a “crimson line” around her that no one dared cross.

“Hello, ma’am. Would you like to buy a flower?”

A tiny, weak voice came from near her feet. Mu Fei looked down coldly. It was a flower girl slightly older than Yuran, carrying a basket of vibrant blooms. She was dressed thinly, her clothes patched, looking up with pleading eyes. “Please, ma’am? They’re very cheap.”

It was a pitiable sight—a frail girl begging for a pittance in the deep winter.

…

When it was finally Yuran’s turn, she let out a breath of relief. She had been terrified of making the Lady wait too long across the street. As she took her white bunny-shaped cotton candy and handed over the gold coin, she turned around to show the Lady.

But what she saw made her heart stop.

The girl was handing the Lady a bouquet…

Yuran recognized those flowers. She had seen them in the slums where she used to live. They were part of a cruel trade. The flowers were dusted with a substance that made anyone who touched them obedient; they would follow the seller and then… vanish. She remembered her grandmother saying these people made money by selling the bodies and organs of those who bought the flowers. They would be broken like livestock and disappear from the world.

“My Lady…”

Yuran sensed the danger immediately. She dashed forward, her voice a dry, cold tremor. A black delivery truck honked and drove between them, momentarily blocking her view. When it passed…

Lady Mu Fei was gone. And so was the flower girl.

Yuran felt the sky go black. Her body turned ice-cold. Ignoring the shouts of the pastry chef behind her, she sprinted across the road. The smiling bunny in her hand was crushed to pieces by the passing crowd.

She tore through alleys, pushing people aside, eyes darting everywhere. The celebratory fireworks drowned out her small cries. She felt like a lost ghost, searching frantically. If the Lady… disappears from this world…

Suddenly, the color drained from her vision. The world became only Black and White.

She saw a sparse alley. Another girl was there with a basket—a different girl, but the same flowers. A cold hand gripped the flower girl’s shoulder. The girl smiled, preparing to turn around for her next “guest.”

“Where—is—the—Lady?”

Before the flower girl could speak, the voice came from behind her—a raspy, unnatural sound like a malfunctioning machine, distorted and suffocating.

The flower girl turned slowly, confused by the strange girl. But in the next second, the girl before her changed. The whites of her eyes were rapidly consumed by an interlocking, crawling darkness.

Eyes with no white. Only a void of death.

The flower girl’s eyes bulged in terror. She was paralyzed by the unnatural transformation. With a trembling finger, she pointed toward the end of the alley toward an abandoned factory that showed a flickering light.

Yuran looked in that direction, then turned and began to run.

The flower girl gasped for air, leaning against the wall. She tried to tell herself it was just some cursed makeup, but she was furious at the fright. She reached for her phone to call her associates to take care of the brat.

But the hand holding the phone began to dissolve before her eyes, along with the device itself. The corrosion spread rapidly. Her distorted scream was swallowed by her own liquefying remains.