Upon Her Lips - Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Auntie Dai watched the obedient little creature and felt a rare sense of ease. “Come out once you’ve changed.”

Listening to the door click shut, You Ran undid her old rags and slowly pulled on the new clothes. They fit perfectly. The stitching and embroidery on the sleeves were dense and fine; even a child could tell this wasn’t some mass-produced throwaway item. It was, without a doubt, the most beautiful and warmest clothing she had ever worn.

Though the colors were muted, You Ran loved them beyond measure. She felt a sudden urge to cry—she had managed to hold back tears even when her mother beat her, but the simple kindness of a garment moved her to the brink of weeping. She was truly happy. She carefully stroked the collar button, over and over again.

When You Ran finally stepped out of the room, she met several pairs of curious eyes. She instinctively lowered her head. The other servants were surprised; in these proper clothes, the girl actually looked quite presentable. Still, the thought of living with a human left a bitter taste in their mouths. To the kindred, humans were lowly and cunning creatures.

“Alright, how much longer are you going to stand around staring?” Auntie Dai’s voice cut through the silence. “Fu Ya, take You Ran to the backyard.”

“Yes.” A crisp response came from a young-looking woman, perhaps twenty by human standards.

You Ran looked up at the sweet-faced woman with brown hair. “Follow me,” Fu Ya said politely, leading the way. You Ran followed silently, her head bowed.

Fu Ya was the manor’s horticulturist. She had worked there for years, tending to every leaf and petal. Even in the dead of winter, the gardens never withered, thanks largely to her skills. Until explicit orders were given by the Master, the simplest task for a frail human girl was tending to the soil and weeds.

“Girl, have you ever planted anything?” Fu Ya asked. You Ran shook her head honestly. She had never seen such vibrant flowers; her dark, cold home never held blossoms of hope. Her mother had hated flowers, preferring the scent of chemical powders.

“The Master loves flowers. They must be tended to constantly. If there is any damage, do you know the consequences?” Fu Ya crouched slightly, lifting her skirt as she moved quickly through the rows, inspecting each plant. You Ran had to jog to keep up, being careful not to touch anything.

Strangely, as You Ran passed, the dark red blossoms seemed to possess a mysterious life. They leaned toward her as if in greeting. Tiny vines tentatively reached out to sense this stranger, and a few even burst into tiny, abnormal golden flowers. Startled by the movement at her feet, You Ran scurried forward and pressed herself against Fu Ya’s back.

“What is it?” Fu Ya frowned, turning around.

You Ran stepped back, pointing tremulously at the sea of flowers. She wanted to say the red flowers had moved—that they had reached out and changed color. But as she looked now, everything was normal. There were no golden blooms, just still branches.

“I…” You Ran stammered, embarrassed.

“Don’t wander off with your eyes,” Fu Ya scolded and kept walking. You Ran hung her head in shame.

“It’s winter. The flowers are hibernating, appearing in harmless shades of dark red. As long as you don’t touch them, they won’t harm you. They are ‘dead flowers’ now; they will ‘resurrect’ in spring with dazzling colors,” Fu Ya explained, using simple terms to describe the Red Bi Lotus.

She didn’t tell the girl that the Red Bi Lotus thrived on darkness. Legend said they once lined the path to hell, feeding on souls. The darker and more powerful a creature, the more the flowers would prostrate themselves, blooming in seductive gold to please them.

You Ran looked at the “dead” flowers. She knew what she had seen, but she didn’t want to make Fu Ya angry, so she kept quiet.

“Your job is to turn the soil daily. If there are withered leaves, snip them off. Don’t ruin the aesthetic; the Master must be pleased,” Fu Ya handed her a shovel. It was heavy for the small girl. You Ran gripped it firmly, her mind looping the phrase the Master must be pleased. If she worked hard, maybe that beautiful lady would smile again.

The task was simple for a vampire, but exhausting for a malnourished human child. Yet, You Ran didn’t shrink away. She worked meticulously, treating every bloom with such care that the garden began to look even more refined. She moved slowly, terrified of hurting the plants.

Fu Ya watched from the shade. Seeing the human child struggle so slowly with the dirt, a flicker of malice rose in her eyes, but she quickly suppressed it.

…

“I heard you’ve taken in a very… adorable little thing?”

The speaker was a young lady in a flamboyant gown, every gesture oozing noble grace—at least until she opened her mouth.

“Your news travels fast. I’m starting to think you have spies in my manor, Grand Duke Yin Silie,” Mu Fei said, rising from the sofa and walking toward the heavy curtains.

Yin Silie smirked, sipping her wine. “It’s hard not to smell such a sweet scent. You’ve brought a human child into your home so brazenly. I can smell that little fool from miles away; some mindless brutes might start getting ideas.”

Mu Fei said nothing. She pulled back the curtain, her cold eyes settling on the tiny figure in the snow, almost swallowed by the garden. The girl was wearing the clothes she had chosen; they fit well enough. Mu Fei didn’t want to care, but the girl’s appearance reflected on her as the mistress of the house.

The girl was squatting in the snow, carefully pruning a branch nearly as tall as she was. She was working hard, not loafing.

“So that’s your little pet?” Yin Silie laughed, leaning in to see the child nearly hidden by the Red Bi flowers.

Mu Fei immediately snapped the curtains shut. “I never said she was a pet. I don’t have such hobbies.”

Yin Silie chuckled. “Don’t tell me it’s pity. You were born without that. If you aren’t keeping her as a blood bag, what is she for?”

“Satisfy your curiosity elsewhere. A human child is no threat to the Council,” Mu Fei sat back down, refusing to explain. She had always done as she pleased. She found the “blood bag” trend among nobles repulsive.

“The Council won’t care as long as there are no corpses,” Yin Silie teased. Then her tone shifted as she thought of the strict laws regarding cross-species offspring—monstrous, mindless hybrids were forbidden. “I wonder why I’ve put up with your coldness for so long.”

“Because you have no one else to annoy?” Mu Fei replied dryly.

“Hardly. Plenty of people want to climb into your bed. You still haven’t chosen a candidate for your ‘First Embrace.’ Your sleeping father would be disappointed.” Yin Silie paused, then added pointedly, “That lady from the Campbell family seems particularly… fond of you.”