Host! I told you to do a task! I didn't tell you to bbb.

Just as Granny Zhang, panting heavily and with a ferocious expression, approached again, raising her thick, fleshy hand high—

"Snap!"

A soft, teeth-grinding sound of bones dislocating rang out.

"Ouch! My back! My back is all twisted!!"

Granny Zhang let out a miserable scream, her whole body frozen in place in a comical yet painful posture.

Then, slowly and uncontrollably, it tilted to the side.

He crashed heavily onto the cold, damp ground, clutching his lower back and howling like a pig being slaughtered.

Liu Yunshu lowered her eyes, looking at Zhang Mama who was grimacing in pain on the ground. Her eyelashes trembled slightly, but there was no pity in her eyes.

She struggled slightly, then looked timidly at the two terrified palace maids.

The two palace maids then seemed to wake from a dream and hurriedly released Liu Yunshu.

He then hurriedly went to help Zhang Mama, who was writhing on the ground in pain, muttering incoherently:

"Granny! Granny, how are you?"

"Quick, help Granny up! Be careful, the ground is cold!"

"It looks like he's injured his bones and muscles, what should we do..."

Zhang Mama was half-dragged and half-carried by the two men to sit up, one hand tightly clutching her lower back.

The pain caused cold sweat and filth to stream down his forehead, and the bruises and swelling on his face looked particularly horrifying against his pale complexion.

Her vicious gaze, like a poisoned knife, was fixed on Liu Yunshu, who stood quietly in the corner, filled with boundless hatred.

He didn't even have the strength to raise a finger and curse; he could only squeeze out broken curses through gritted teeth.

"You little...you little bitch...you just wait...I...I'm not done with you yet..."

Liu Yun lowered her head comfortably, her slender body trembling slightly.

She clutched the hem of her tattered palace robe tightly, her fingertips turning white from the effort, her voice weak and trembling with fear as she sobbed:

"This servant knows her mistake... Please, Granny, forgive this servant..."

This submissive, weak, and easily bullied appearance was seen by others.

She just felt that Granny Zhang was used to being domineering, and now that she was in trouble, she was taking her anger out on the most pitiful little palace maid.

Even the two palace maids who were struggling to support her showed a hint of impatience and veiled sympathy on their faces.

After Zhang Mama was finally helped away, she left groaning and cursing all the way.

The laundry department then fell back into a weary and numb silence.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Qianqing Palace.

Li De had changed into clean clothes and carefully walked a few steps away from the imperial desk before stopping.

He bowed deeply, his voice respectful and clear:

"Your Majesty, as you instructed, I have preliminarily selected a few... young palace maids with hand injuries."

Han Fei suddenly looked up from the memorial, his usually calm and composed phoenix eyes now surging with an urgent urgency that seemed about to burst forth.

He unconsciously gripped the cold, dragon-patterned corner of the table beside him, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force, his voice trembling with tension:

"Bring it in."

"Yes."

Li De dared not delay, and quickly turned around and walked to the palace gate, raising his voice to the outside:

"His Majesty has decreed that you all enter and report!"

Soon, several women dressed in uniform gray-blue coarse cloth palace dresses, heads bowed, holding their breath, and extremely reservedly filed in.

"Raise your heads, everyone!"

Han Fei's gaze swept across their faces, a mixture of scrutiny and an indescribable expectation.

He observed the eyebrows, eyes, facial features, and expression very quickly and meticulously.

No.

This is not it either.

Neither...

A sense of indescribable disappointment washed over Han Fei, and even the atmosphere around him seemed to drop a few degrees.

Could it be... that she is not a member of the palace?

Was that beautiful yet heart-wrenching dream truly just his wild imagination?

He closed his eyes and waved his hand, his movements carrying a lingering weariness and restlessness.

Li De, observing their expressions, immediately understood and urged the bewildered and apprehensive palace maids to quickly leave.

Those almond-shaped eyes in my dream, brimming with moisture.

That sweet, gentle phrase, "Remember the osmanthus cake?"

And the hurt in her eyes when she lowered them.

Each one flashed through his mind like a red-hot branding iron, making his heart clench.

"Where...are you?"

Han Fei stared at the osmanthus cake on the table, which had long since gone cold, his thin lips pressed into a cold, hard curve.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

That night, Han Fei once again drifted into a dream, stepping into the valley of roses that seemed to bloom only for one person.

The evening breeze, carrying a sweet fragrance so rich it was intoxicating, still wafted over his dark robes.

However, the swing swayed gently in the moonlight, empty of anyone.

Han Fei's heart tightened, and his brows furrowed deeply.

Could it be that she didn't sleep well tonight?

"Girl?"

He called out tentatively, his voice not loud, but clearly blending into the evening breeze and the sea of ​​flowers.

However, all that answered him was the soft rustling of petals and his own heartbeat.

The anxiety in my heart was like wild grass that had been set ablaze, shooting upwards wildly.

At that moment, a very faint sob, almost drowned out by the wind, drifted over intermittently.

He walked quickly towards the sound, and after passing by a cluster of waist-high rose bushes, he saw that familiar splash of red curled up in the shade of the flowers.

She hugged her knees, her shoulders trembling slightly, and her soft sobs were broken and intermittent by the wind, making one's chest feel heavy.

Han Fei walked very lightly, afraid of disturbing her.

The cool moonlight flowed over her dark hair, which fell over her shoulders, and gilded it with a soft silver glow.

This only made the exposed nape of her neck appear even more delicate, pale, and fragile.

"Why...are you hiding here alone, crying?"

His voice was extremely low and soft, a cautiousness that even he himself was unaware of.

Upon hearing the sound, Liu Yunshu trembled violently and abruptly raised her head.

Pear blossoms in the rain, nothing more than this.

Those almond-shaped eyes, which were always full of smiles, were now red and swollen, their rims brimming with tears.

Her long eyelashes were wet and clung pitifully to her pale cheeks.

Her nose was red from crying, and her lips trembled slightly.

Her once beautiful face was now streaked with tears, looking so disheveled and vulnerable that it broke one's heart.

Upon seeing it was him, she did not stop crying.

Instead, it was as if a dam had completely collapsed, and even more tears gushed out, rolling down her cheeks.

"It hurts...it hurts so much...it's cold, so cold..."

She choked back sobs, her voice broken and incoherent, her slender white fingers gripping the hem of her skirt tightly, the pads of her fingers turning bluish-white from the force.

A deep pity welled up in Han Fei's eyes. He slowly squatted down completely in front of her, his gaze meeting hers.

"She hit me again..."

Her accusations were interspersed with violent sobs, and large tears fell from her eyes.

A few drops landed on the back of his outstretched hand, and the temperature was shockingly hot.

"The well water...it's so cold, so cold...my hands, my back...they all hurt so much, so much..."

All words seem pale and powerless at this moment.

Han Fei's Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty. A thousand questions and ten thousand tender feelings ultimately turned into an almost clumsy movement.

He reached out and carefully pulled the weeping, cold, crimson figure into his arms.

The dark, wide sleeves, like the calm night, enveloped that trembling crimson.

His palm rested on her thin, trembling back, trying to transfer his body heat to her.

Liu Yunshu seemed to have found a support, burying her face in his neck and crying even harder.

Warm tears soaked his clothes and melted the last bit of hardness in his heart.

"Why... when it wasn't my fault..."

She sobbed intermittently, her voice muffled but every word piercing her heart.

"Why...why are they all on her side? I don't know...I'm not my parents' biological child..."

"I don't know anything... I'm innocent... Why are you doing this to me...?"

Han Fei's body stiffened for a moment, then he tightened his arms and hugged her even tighter.

His hand stroked her slightly trembling back, the movement clumsy yet tender.

He didn't know what she had been through, or who the "they" she was talking about were.

But he couldn't bear to see her cry, couldn't bear to see her feel wronged, couldn't bear to see her hugging him like this, crying like a homeless child.

Liu Yunshu's sobs gradually subsided, though her shoulders were still trembling slightly.

She looked up at him, her eyes blurry with tears.

Those almond-shaped eyes were already captivating, but now, with tears welling up, they appeared even more shimmering, like a pool of shattered starlight.

"you……"

She sniffed, her voice thick with nasal tone, soft and sweet beyond belief.

Why are you so good to me?

Before he could answer, she began to sob softly to herself, her voice filled with a self-deprecating sorrow:

"My parents don't want me anymore... my brother doesn't want me anymore... even Brother Xiao... doesn't want me anymore... I'm a child nobody wants..."

The last syllable, heavy with nasal tone, trembled slightly and dissipated in the wind.

He looked down at the reddened eyes of the person in his arms, and at the tiny teardrops on the tip of her nose.

His Adam's apple bobbed for a long time before he finally spoke, his voice hoarse, carrying a solemnity he himself was unaware of.

I want you.

The three words, spoken with resounding force, sent a shiver down Liu Yunshu's spine.

She raised her head in a daze, her eyes blurry with tears as she gazed into his deep phoenix eyes.

Those eyes, which were always filled with aloofness, were now like a bonfire, leaping with scorching light that enveloped her entire being.

"What...did you say?"

Her voice was as faint as a mosquito's buzz, trembling with a dazed quality, as if she were afraid to hear clearly, yet also afraid it was just an illusion.

Han Fei raised his hand and gently wiped away the remaining tear stains on her cheek with his fingertips.

The delicate, warm touch from your fingertips carries a reassuring and calming power.

His gaze slowly traced the corners of her reddened eyes, and swept over her slightly parted lips, glistening with tears.

He spoke slowly and deliberately, in a lower, clearer, and more indistinguishable tone, declaring once again:

I said, I want you.

The evening breeze carried the sweet fragrance of roses, wafting over the skin of the two people touching.