Chapter 2

My parents decided to take me to the marquis’s residence and find out what was going on.

They also needed to meet their other daughter.

The residence was enormous!

I turned my head for a moment and got lost.

Leaning over the railing beside the lake, I watched the plump golden carp below.

I remembered someone boasting at a restaurant that even the fish noble families kept were different from ordinary people’s.

All gleaming gold.

I wiped my mouth. “They say eating golden fish makes you live longer. I could steal two and make enough stew for the whole family. Oh, no. Mother would break my legs if I stole anything.”

What a shame.

But then I thought again.

I slapped my forehead. “Wait! I’m going to be the heir’s child bride! That makes me half a mistress of the house! How can taking my own things count as stealing?”

Heh-heh.

Just as I was about to make my move,

a cool voice drifted over. “Those fish were brought from Jiangnan. Twenty taels each. If you can afford them, you’re welcome to fish them out.”

I was already leaning over the railing.

That ghostly voice startled me so badly I plopped into the water.

I swallowed a mouthful.

With difficulty, I clung to the railing.

Only then did I see someone sitting behind a pavilion pillar.

Summer had begun, yet he was still wearing a cloak.

He looked carved from jade: cold and handsome, certainly, but with no trace of life about him.

Furious, I grabbed a lotus blossom and flung it in his face. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? Were you trying to scare me?”

It struck him squarely. Water splashed over his face, leaving him looking rather bedraggled.

I climbed onto the bank. His dark look made me a little uneasy.

I tried to salvage my dignity. “Couldn’t you have dodged?”

Expressionless, he wiped the droplets away and tapped his legs. “How was a cripple supposed to dodge?” he asked scornfully.

I looked at his wheelchair. “Oh, you really can’t walk. I thought you might be sitting in it for fun.”

He stared in disbelief. “Who pretends to be lame and rides a wheelchair for fun?”

I pointed proudly at myself. “I do! I pretended last year, and Father made me a wheelchair. It was wonderful!”

I left the rest unsaid.

My brother had caught me out soon afterward.

My parents had beaten my backside raw, then shut me indoors to copy ten miserable pages of calligraphy exercises.

To prove I’d really used a wheelchair,

I waved him aside. “Here, move over. I’ll show you how to dodge in one!”

He raised his eyebrows, apparently wanting to ask how someone who couldn’t walk was supposed to move aside.

I went over, lifted him up, and set him down to one side. “You look tall enough, but you weigh less than a piglet. Eat more. Someone could snap you in half with one punch.”

He drew a deep breath. Even the distant courtesy in his eyes deserted him.

I paid him no attention.

Settling into the wheelchair, I exclaimed, “Wow! This one’s much better than mine! Look—when someone throws something at you, do this.”

I slid out of the chair like a puddle of water.

Then, lying at his feet and looking up his nostrils, I said, “That’s how you dodge. Understand?”

He looked down at me.

I met his gaze, tilted my head this way and that, and gasped. “Wow. Your nostrils are really round.”

He gave a small, elegant smile. “You don’t seem particularly bright,” he said slowly.

Here I was teaching him a useful skill, and he called me stupid!

I rolled my eyes and gave two dry laughs. “What do you know? It’s called taking the enemy by surprise! Once I slide down, I grab their legs and give a hard yank. Down they go, face-first!”

To convince him,

I grabbed his legs and pulled with all my strength.

Sure enough, he hit the ground.

I dusted off my hands, stood up, and looked down at him. “Convinced? Isn’t that a brilliant move?”

His eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling slightly.

For some reason, he said through gritted teeth, “I’ve dug my own grave. This betrothal is bound to fall apart!”

I hauled him up and put him back in the wheelchair.

Then I picked up the lotus and pushed it into his hand.

Judging by how sickly and gloomy he looked, life in this household probably wasn’t kind to him either.

In a burst of generosity, I patted his shoulder. “I’m going to be the heir’s wife. Once I’ve met the old madam, I’ll have you made my little sidekick. I’ll look after you.”

His glass-clear eyes fixed on me. Holding the lotus, he said coolly, “I’ve never heard of a lady of the house having a sidekick.”

Talking nonsense was my specialty. “Then you can be my kept lover. Either way, I’ll support you.”

I’d heard people quarreling on East Street recently.

Something about buying food and clothes for a kept lover.

Supporting this sickly fellow would probably amount to much the same thing.

I waved goodbye and hurried off to find my parents.