Chapter10

An Honored Guest Arrives (Part Three)

Eyes.

Yu Manyi wasn’t used to looking directly into her Third Mother’s eyes. She was already accustomed to lowering her gaze, kneeling the very second a scolding began. She knew exactly what she was supposed to do next—open her palms, voice trembling, and start counting as the punishment ruler came down. These scenes had played out often when she was still a young child, to the point that her body responded almost reflexively.

But perhaps because she hadn’t been beaten once since her engagement to her cousin, or perhaps because of some reason she had yet to realize, Yu Manyi did not kneel, nor did she extend her hands. She didn’t even lower her head or avert her gaze—instead, she slightly raised her chin and met Yu Shenshi’s eyes directly.

Her reaction stunned her fierce and imposing Third Mother, causing a fleeting moment of bewilderment to flash across her face. What followed was a rage so overwhelming it changed the pitch of her voice.

“Yu Manyi!” she screamed hoarsely at her adopted daughter, ignoring the terrified glances of the servants. “Do you even know what you're supposed to be doing right now?!”

She did know. But she no longer believed that was what she should be doing. Yu Manyi was shoved backward by her Third Mother, step by step, until the newspapers tied around her leg came loose and scattered to the ground. Yu Shenshi bent down and picked up one of the papers, then shrieked for someone to bring the stack she had found in Manyi’s room. Then, one by one—page after page—she flung them at Manyi’s trembling face, her shoulders, her chest, her stomach.

Yu Manyi was terrified, but she refused to lower her head. She stared back at Yu Shenshi with those young, dark eyes, so full of defiance that it seemed as though she were the one wronged, not the other way around. After flinging the newspapers, Yu Shenshi raised her ruler to strike again. The symbol of her authority came slicing through the air, about to land on Manyi’s face just like the countless times before. But this time, Yu Manyi’s first instinct wasn’t to flinch—she reached out and grabbed the ruler mid-air, stopping Yu Shenshi from taking even half a step forward.

“Yu Manyi,” Yu Shenshi’s voice trembled in disbelief, “have you gone mad?”

“You’re the one yelling all over the Yu household like a lunatic,” Yu Manyi’s voice was calm. “You’re the one who’s gone mad.”

“Do you even realize who I am?!”

“Why ask that?” Yu Manyi gripped the ruler tightly, enunciating every word. “Shen Yingmei, have you forgotten your own name?”

At the very instant her name was spoken out loud, Yu Shenshi completely snapped. She yanked the ruler back from Yu Manyi with all her strength. The sharp metal edge was too sharp—Yu Manyi felt a pain that cut straight to the bone. When she looked at her hand, she saw the skin had split along her palm lines, and a streak of blood bloomed right in the center of her palm.

“Fine. Fine. Yu Manyi,” Third Mother leaned on the ruler, closed her eyes for a long moment, and when she opened them again, her voice was even more venomous. “If you won’t kneel now, then you can stand right there—”She looked around. The surrounding servants who had gathered to watch quickly averted their eyes. Not one of them dared to meet her gaze the way Yu Manyi did.

“—Stand here until you're willing to kneel!”

She raised the discipline ruler and pointed it at Yu Manyi’s eyes: “No one is allowed to give her water, no food, and she’s not to be let inside! Yu Manyi, you’ve got such spine now, huh? Then I want to see just how tough that spine really is!”

With that, she turned around, stepped over the threshold into the inner courtyard. A few servants followed behind her, and with a loud “bang,” the heavy doors were shut.

There were matters going on in the county lately, and aside from Second Aunt and Third Aunt, everyone else in the household had been summoned away for discussion and wouldn’t return for several days. Naturally, Second Aunt couldn’t go against Third Aunt’s overbearing nature. Yu Manyi closed her eyes for a moment and knew clearly in her heart — this door wouldn’t open again before tomorrow.

She realized she had been left in a space in between. The main entrance had already been locked when she came in, and now the second gate was bolted shut as well. She couldn’t return to the conservative Yu family estate, nor could she reach the free world beyond the gates. She had been thrown into this crack between old and new — unwanted, uncared for, just like when her parents abandoned her at birth.

Her palm hurt terribly. Blood had stained her sleeve. The pain turned her lips pale and made her legs weak. But she stubbornly refused to sit. In this moment, all she wanted was to keep standing — to stand like this, as if remaining upright meant she hadn’t compromised in her heart. The bleeding wasn’t limited to just her hand. Yu Manyi closed her eyes, trying to amplify the pain in her palm to distract herself from the stabbing ache in her lower abdomen.

Just like one of Qi Song’s most melodramatic plots — that midnight, Shaoxing welcomed the first summer rain. Yu Manyi stood in the downpour all night, and finally, before sunrise, collapsed to the ground in a faint.

…

During the days she was bedridden, Third Aunt didn’t come to the room to reprimand her again — perhaps because she didn’t want to see the look in Yu Manyi’s eyes.

The youngest servant and others brought her food and medicine and told her that Master Yu and a few young masters had returned from the county discussions with other prominent families. Apparently, new policies were being implemented. But Yu Manyi, still weak from illness, had no energy to care. She drowsed in bed, drifting in and out of sleep, thinking maybe this was for the best — she no longer had to hold her nose and write those insincere letters to her cousin. It was just a pity she couldn’t buy the newspapers published by Song Qi and the others anymore.

After a few more days of recovery, she was able to sit up on her own, comb her hair, and walk a little around the room. She suddenly realized that during this illness, she seemed to have grown taller. Her figure no longer resembled that of a child — she looked a bit like an adult now. Yu Manyi touched her own face and chest and thought to herself: she was already seventeen.

Just when she was about to fully recover, one day a servant came knocking on Yu Manyi’s door, telling her to go to the main hall — Master Yu and a guest wanted to see her."Who?" Yu Manyi couldn't help but ask in return.

"A guest, an elderly man with glasses, looks very scholarly," the servant also tried to guess for her, "and some young men and women. They came to visit Master Yu, and then asked to see you."

Yu Manyi was silent for a moment, then asked, "Is my Third Aunt there?"

"She's there too," the servant replied. "The young masters and madams are all present."

She sighed. She really didn't want to go, but she knew she couldn't hide in her room forever. She asked the servant to relay the message that she had just recovered from a serious illness, her appearance was not presentable, and she would need some time before heading to the main hall, asking them to please wait a bit longer. Then, she sat at her dressing table and slowly combed out her sleep-tangled hair strand by strand. It turned out that when one is ill, even the hair becomes dry. She tucked the lusterless long hair into her bun, wore a pair of butterfly-shaped earrings to lift her spirits, and finally changed clothes.

She used to hide various newspapers in her clothes, all of which had been found and cut to shreds by Yu Shen-shi. What was left as the most presentable was that pair of purple mandarin duck jacket and skirt—mocked by Song Qi. Yu Manyi reluctantly put it on, thinking, If he sees me in this again, he'll definitely laugh at me.

Once dressed, she was once again the respectable daughter of the Yu family in Shaoxing. Yu Manyi held onto the handrail as she descended the stairs. The wooden steps creaked beneath her feet. She felt as if she might fall at any moment, her vision blurry, her still-recovering body on the verge of hallucination.

This dreamlike state carried on as she entered the main hall, clutching a handkerchief, and greeted the elders and guests of the Yu family. Etiquette taught her that when meeting outsiders, she must not look directly at them, only lower her gaze and glance through the corners of her eyes.

Yu Manyi swept her gaze past one familiar elder face after another, then came to a scholarly-looking elderly man wearing glasses, and then a few young people…

Yu Manyi froze on the spot.

That same black student uniform. That same face. She dared not look up, thinking it must be her illness making her see things. But the man stepped forward from the group with his arms folded, tilting his head slightly to look at her. His expression was exactly like when they last met in the cellar, as if it had only been yesterday.

She had only just recovered from a serious illness—her earlobes flushed red in an instant, and she nearly suspected she was running a fever again. Song Qi merely smiled lightly at her, then turned to the elder beside him and introduced, "Teacher, this must be Miss Yu, the reader of our newspaper I mentioned."

At that, Yu Manyi abruptly lifted her head.

In that moment, she saw everyone clearly, including the gentle expression on Master Yu’s face. In a flash, she understood: Song Qi’s phrasing was clever—he couldn’t say that she had once hidden him in the cellar behind her family’s back. For a girl from a conservative household, that would have been seen as utterly disgraceful. But saying she was a reader who had written letters to their newspaper? That was gentle, non-transgressive—even in this context, perhaps even advantageous for strengthening the connection between the Yu family and their guests.

With one sentence, he openly acknowledged knowing her.

She stared at Song Qi in a daze, and he smiled right back at her. Realizing that Yu Manyi had grown a bit, he raised his brows slightly before quickly returning to his usual expression.

Master Yu asked her to sit. Yu Manyi walked a couple of steps and saw that her seat was right beside Third Aunt, who was staring at her coldly. She stopped in her tracks—then heard Song Qi say, “There’s an empty seat next to me. Miss Yu can sit here.”However, there wasn’t actually an empty seat next to him—just a student with a dazed expression. Yu Manyi stood there at a loss, and then Song Qi said, “Hurry up and give your seat to your copy-sketch teacher, you talentless fool who can only draw monstrosities.”

The students burst into laughter, and even Master Yu chuckled. They had all heard about how Yu Manyi had sent in illustration samples to the newspaper, which made Master Yu feel quite proud. That student immediately stood up and made a polite “please” gesture to Yu Manyi. At that point, she had no choice but to sit.

As she sat down, Yu Manyi heard Song Qi slightly turn toward her and say in a voice only she could hear, “I have something to say to you.”

But that was all he said, and Yu Manyi guessed he meant to take her outside to speak later.

Her heartbeat, which had spiked upon first seeing Song Qi again, had now calmed. Sitting beside him, she discreetly observed his behavior from the corner of her eye. His sitting posture was far from proper—his body tilted toward her, left arm resting on the armrest, right hand on his knee, his fingers tapping rhythmically. She struggled not to focus all her attention on him and instead tried to listen to the conversation between the old gentleman and Master Yu.

It turned out that a new policy had been passed down from above. The county had devised a method to implement it, which then filtered down to the villages and finally to large households like the Yu and You families. The policy required grassroots governments to promote literacy and had dispatched teachers and students from Shanghai to rural schools. Song Qi’s group was not originally assigned to Yu Manyi’s village, but after giving a passionate speech, he moved his teacher. He claimed that the ten days he had spent here had forged a deep bond between him and the land, and that the concubine he had rescued made him realize how much modern awareness was still lacking here. In short, after his persuasive speech, their group was reassigned.

Yu Manyi wondered if Song Qi had specifically arranged the reassignment for her. Maybe he’d say so later. For now, he was simply leaning on the chair to her right, occasionally yawning, nodding off during the courteous conversation between the two elders.

Master Yu then shifted the topic and continued speaking with Song Qi’s teacher. Now that this group of teachers and students would be staying in Yu Manyi’s village, the Yu family would be responsible for their food and lodging. That wasn’t a problem—the Yu residence was large, with plenty of empty rooms in the back. Upon hearing this, Song Qi suddenly raised his hand and said he had many quirks—he slept poorly and was picky about his room. He asked if the others could continue chatting while he followed Miss Yu to inspect the rooms, so he could pick one and not delay the group later.

His teacher glared and huffed at him, but Song Qi, as always, ignored people’s glares and lectures. As host, Master Yu naturally respected his guest’s request and waved his hand, signaling for Yu Manyi to take Song Qi to the back.

The two stepped over the threshold, one behind the other—Song Qi in front, Yu Manyi behind. After they’d walked a short distance and the sounds from the hall had completely faded, it was finally safe to speak. Song Qi, drowsy from listening to the elders talk, took a deep breath of fresh air and turned around to look at Yu Manyi, who hadn’t said a word since they stepped outside.

Then his expression subtly froze, and the body he had just relaxed tensed up once again.

Yu Manyi lowered her eyes and didn’t make a sound, but her face was already streaked with tears. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and Song Qi’s gaze couldn’t help falling to her palm—where he saw a scar that had only just healed.