Aunt Lan stopped Lianxiang, shaking her head. “That’s enough. The three of us will be more than adequate to serve our young master. Why are you here? How could you leave the shaoye alone in the house?”
“It’s fine. He’s taking a nap.”
Aunt Lan seemed to remain anxious, and the three quickened their pace. The walk to Qiuwu Courtyard passed through what seemed like the entire estate, and their surroundings grew increasingly rundown with each step. Finally, they caught sight of the corner gate leading into Qiuwu Courtyard. Just before they entered, a boy’s shout and the loud crash of pots and pans from within greeted them.
“Give me back my book! Give it back!”
Aunt Lan and Lianxiang rushed into the courtyard with Xiahou Lian following close behind. A small, messy area unfolded before him. Inside, several servants had pinned a half-grown boy to the ground. The boy’s clothes were muddy and torn. Beside the group stood a second boy with a chubby face, large ears, and pale skin. His nose and ears were as round, shiny, and plump as meatballs. Everyone else Xiahou Lian had seen since arriving at the estate was scrawny and thin; it was as if all their missing weight was amassed in this one boy.
Like many wealthy youths of the time, the plump boy—clearly conscious of his appearance—wore powder and greasepaint, though he’d gone a bit overboard with them. The overwhelming scent of powder engulfed Xiahou Lian as he approached, making his head spin.
“What do you mean, ‘give it back’? The book is mine to begin with! It’s still mine even if I tire of it and throw it away. Who gave you the right to pick it up and read it, you mutt?” The fat boy ripped the book in his hands to shreds, sneering. “You pathetic piece of trash. You think you can read? What—are you hoping to take the imperial exams? Dream on, you son of a whore maid. You’ll be a servant for the rest of your life!”
The other boy roared and thrashed. His face was flushed crimson, eyes bloodshot. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! How dare you say that about my mother?!”
Lianxiang and Aunt Lan knelt on the ground, knocking their heads against it. “Da-shaoye, please let San-shaoye go!” they cried. “Please let him go!”
“Get out of my way! Quick, men, check to see if he’s hidden any more of my books! Tear everything apart! Leave no stone unturned!”
The servants complied, ransacking the entire courtyard. They even tore apart the straw paper in the latrine. Soon, a heap of shredded paper formed in the open yard. There were barely any books to be found; even combined with the latrine paper, they made only a meager pile.
The third young master stared blankly at the mound of shredded paper, then slowly lifted his gaze to stare coldly at the fat boy. “If I ever rise to power, I swear I’ll ki—”
Before he finished the word, a servant kicked him to the ground and laughed. “You think you’ll ever hold power? You’re destined to spend your worthless life wallowing in the mud! Nothing is going to change that!”
Squatting by the wall, Xiahou Lian seethed with fury. His hand instinctively reached for the dagger tucked in his boot, then paused. No, he thought. An assassin must not reveal himself. Taking a deep breath, he forced his hand away and quietly shrank back, harmless as a quail.
The fat boy crouched in front of the third young master and scooped a handful of paper from the ground. He grabbed the other boy’s face in his left hand and shoved the scraps into his mouth. The third young master struggled fiercely, but the servants held him down, laughing as choking coughs racked his body. Lianxiang and Aunt Lan tried to rush over, but the other servants stopped them, forcing them to watch as he sprawled on the ground.
“Listen here, Xie Jinglan. Your whore of a mother took advantage of my father while he was drunk—that’s how you came to be. A lowly mutt like you, dreaming of reading and becoming an official? Give it up. My mother only allows you the title of ‘shaoye’ out of kindness. Keep stepping out of line, and I’ll kick you and your doddery maid out to scrub chamber pots for a living.”
The fat boy tossed a handful of paper scraps into the air. They fell like snow, cloaking Xie Jinglan’s face. Then the entire group walked away, roaring with laughter. Aunt Lan and Lianxiang helped Xie Jinglan to his feet and brushed the dirt from his clothing, their eyes brimming with tears.
“How can Da-shaoye be so awful to San-shaoye? He threw away those books; our San-shaoye merely salvaged them from the storeroom. Yet Da-shaoye tore them to shreds!” Lianxiang exclaimed indignantly. Noticing Xie Jinglan’s silence and pursed lips, she softened her tone. “San-shaoye…maybe you should give up on reading. Ugh. No paper, no ink, and now no books. Let it go.”
Xie Jinglan ignored her, but he stood up to stop Aunt Lan when she grabbed a broom to sweep the scraps away. “Don’t. Bring them inside. I can reassemble them.”
“But they’re in shreds and all from different books. Can you really put them back together?”
“I can. Leave them and let me.”
“Ah, right. The child I brought back today can read, so he can help you, Shaoye. Xiao-Lian, where are you? Come greet the young master.”
Upon hearing this, Xiahou Lian hurried over and bowed awkwardly before Xie Jinglan. When he came close, he finally got a good look at the young master. Even the dirt smudged over his face could not conceal the beauty of his features. His gaze resembled a serene autumn lake, but his complexion was pale and sickly, as if he wasn’t eating well.
So, he’s girly. No wonder he’d lacked the power to fight back. All the men in Qiye Garden had bodies as robust as steel. When they undressed, they revealed solid muscles honed by years of training. Xiahou Lian had spent years on the mountain, surrounded by battle-hardened warriors who’d clawed their way back from the jaws of death; he’d never seen a young master so frail and weak. A flicker of disdain sparked inside him.
Xie Jinglan lifted his eyes to glance at Xiahou Lian. The latter’s hair was disheveled, his face caked with brown and black streaks—he looked like a mud-covered monkey. Xie Jinglan couldn’t help but frown. “Who’s that? I don’t want him. Send him back.”
Xiahou Lian said nothing.