Chapter 8: The Carefree Young Master’s Melancholy Day

The morning was well underway, yet the sun remained hidden. The sky was a dismal grey, shrouded in heavy clouds, and a persistent drizzle fell, leaving everything damp and uncomfortably clammy.

Those within the Jade Orchid Hall were even more despondent, for their young master detested such weather above all else.

The gloomy, humid atmosphere, devoid of warm sunlight, left Su Zhuozhi utterly listless. His appetite waned, and even his usual favorite dishes held no appeal.

Qingping and Wanying, their faces etched with worry, fussed around Su Zhuozhi, gently coaxing him to eat something. Having served him since childhood, they shared a profound bond; in their eyes, the young master was not merely a superior but more akin to family.

The kitchen sent over several appetizing side dishes.

There was Exquisite Peony Zha, Pineapple Duck Slices, Crispy-Boned Crucian Carp, Spicy Rabbit Cubes, Orange Peel Beef, Garlic Pork Slices, Sweet and Sour Snow Rolls, and Chilled Crown Daisy Salad.

Their vibrant hues were enough to tempt anyone’s appetite.

However, Su Zhuozhi merely took two small bites before setting down his chopsticks and dismissing the dishes.

Since he had barely touched his main meal, Wanying thought it best if he had some pastries to fill his stomach. She brought over two portions of Biluo, one filled with cherries and the other with crab roe, offering both sweet and savory options. Their translucent skins revealed vibrant reds and tender yellows.

Additionally, there was a plate of assorted fruit pastries, exquisitely shaped and varied: mille-feuille, rose petal cakes, twisted dough fritters, and delicate leaf pastries.

Wanying, noticing the faint beads of sweat on her forehead from hurrying about, looked at him with earnest concern and gently persuaded, “Young Master, please eat a little. It’s terrible to go hungry, and these are all your favorite flavors.”

He hesitated for a moment, then picked up a cherry Biluo and slowly began to eat.

Wanying’s face lit up with joy upon seeing him eat, and Qingping visibly relaxed.

After lunch.

Su Zhuozhi remained listless, gazing at the fine rain outside the window, his mood still somber.

Qingping enthusiastically suggested, “Young Master, would you like to visit the Grand Opera House? I hear they’ve staged a new performance, extraordinarily thrilling and spectacular.”

The Old Madam kept a troupe of performers in the estate, including opera singers and acrobats who performed challenging acts like pole climbing, rope walking, and magic tricks, all breathtaking to behold.

But Su Zhuozhi was too indolent to leave his courtyard. He simply leaned on the table, idly spinning a miniature ivory top with his thumb and forefinger.

His arm cushioned his cheek, making his jowls puff out, and his lips were slightly pursed. When the top spun towards him, he would shift his hand and face, tilting his body to make room. Yet, the top still bumped his forehead and then wobbled to a halt.

Su Zhuozhi clutched his reddened forehead, huffing in annoyance. He was done playing.

He truly was an utterly carefree, leisurely young master.

Xie Jue, standing not far behind him, had watched for most of the day, and this thought was paramount in his mind.

The young master was surrounded by many who adored him, eager to please him, wishing for his happiness, and devising every possible way just to make him eat one more bite. He was, in every sense, delicate and precious, showered with boundless affection.

Xie Jue found it incomprehensible how such a pampered young master could be the noble person destined to break the deadlock. He wasn’t even a cultivator, so weak that any minor demon could easily kill him.

Su Zhuozhi soon lost interest in the miniature tops. He then asked for drawing paper and prepared his brushes and ink, intent on painting.

Feeling out of sorts, he also disliked seeing Xie Jue too idle. He ordered Xie Jue to learn the art of tea brewing from Wanying.

Thus, Su Zhuozhi sat, casually painting with his brush, while nearby, the elegant maidservant boiled water and prepared tea, creating a tranquil and serene atmosphere.

Tea brewing, in this context, involved grinding tea leaves and boiling them to drink. Though it sounded simple, it was a highly intricate process requiring numerous specialized tools.

There were glazed tea cups and saucers, gilt-bronze wild goose patterned silver tea grinders, gilt-bronze flying immortal crane patterned silver tea sieves with arched bases, gilt-bronze makara patterned tripodal silver salt stands with bud-shaped knobs, and gilt-bronze scrolling vine patterned silver long-handled spoons—each piece exquisitely crafted and beautiful. These were all exclusively for Su Zhuozhi’s use.

Wanying skillfully took out a tea cake and placed it in a roasting device to bake. After patiently waiting for it to cool, she crushed the tea cake, then repeatedly ground it with a tea grinder. Finally, she sieved the ground tea leaves through a tea sieve until they were roughly the size of fine grains of rice. Only at this point did the actual brewing begin.

Wanying, gentle and considerate by nature, knew the young master was deliberately being difficult. Mastering tea brewing took at least a year or two, so Xie Jue’s serious efforts would be futile. Moreover, this was not a skill a personal guard should possess; his sole duty was to protect his master. Thus, she softly reassured him, “You needn’t worry. This is merely a small test from the young master, and it’s perfectly fine if you don’t succeed. The young master treats his servants exceptionally well. He might have occasional tantrums, but he’s easily appeased, and he would never truly wish to make things difficult for us.”

Xie Jue remained noncommittal. In fact, her words, imbued with such familiarity and intimacy towards the young master, inexplicably irritated him, making him unwilling to listen further.

Wanying meticulously brewed the tea and poured a cup. The glazed tea cup held a shallow, orange-hued tea, steaming hot and exuding a refreshing aroma.

She asked, “Would you like to try?”

As she spoke, Wanying was already mentally prepared for Xie Jue to waste the tea cake, as it was his first time brewing tea, which was quite normal. But then, her expression shifted, and she gasped in shock.

For Xie Jue had perfectly replicated her entire process, omitting no detail, with astonishing precision and unhurried grace, as if he had performed it a thousand times before.

Su Zhuozhi, who had also witnessed this, exclaimed in surprise, “You can brew tea? Were you deceiving me earlier?”

Xie Jue replied, “This is my first time brewing tea. I am simply adept at learning.”

Just like those martial arts forms, he only needed a glance to fully recreate and execute them.

Su Zhuozhi was half-skeptical. He asked Xie Jue to pour a cup and bring it over, then lowered his head to take a sip, finding that the taste was remarkably similar to Wanying’s brew. His expression turned subtle. He lifted his gaze, glancing at Xie Jue. If he could pass such a difficult test, how could anyone find fault? His already foul mood due to the rain grew even more sullen.

Wanying had other matters to attend to and had to withdraw, softly reminding Xie Jue to persuade the young master to have some more pastries later. After all, he had only eaten half a cherry Biluo and a small piece of mille-feuille at noon and would soon be hungry.

Su Zhuozhi heard all these instructions. He pouted, thinking to himself that he certainly wouldn’t listen to Xie Jue.

Xie Jue approached, but Su Zhuozhi, without lifting his head, declared, “Don’t bother. I’m not eating.”

“Young Master, I haven’t said anything,” Xie Jue stated calmly.

“I heard what you two said.”

“But I have no intention of persuading you.”

Su Zhuozhi unexpectedly looked up. “Is that so? Then you’re quite sensible, knowing it would be useless to try.”

Xie Jue shook his head. “The young master is not a three-year-old child who needs coaxing to eat. He will naturally eat when he is hungry.”

‘He’s being sarcastic!’

Su Zhuozhi, annoyed, made a heavy stroke, instantly adding an unsightly, thick black ink mark to the otherwise beautiful landscape painting.

Qingping, hearing this, immediately grew anxious. He frantically motioned to Xie Jue, lowering his voice to complain, “If you’re not going to persuade him, then don’t make things worse! The young master once lost his appetite due to a bad mood and didn’t eat for an entire day; he even fainted the next morning!”

Xie Jue fell silent… This was even worse than a three-year-old.

“Silence! You’re too noisy!”

Su Zhuozhi’s ears flushed, a hint of anger in his tone. Did they think he was deaf and couldn’t hear them?

Qingping sheepishly slapped his own mouth, regretting his words. It was all this new guard’s fault for making the young master unhappy.

Su Zhuozhi glanced at Xie Jue’s tall figure, finding him increasingly an eyesore. “Stand further away. You’re blocking my light.”

Xie Jue surveyed the open glazed window and the numerous candles on the table, their bright flames illuminating the room. Then, he perfunctorily shifted a single step.

Su Zhuozhi, muttering curses about Xie Jue’s dullness and stupidity, drew a tall, upright tree on the paper. Immediately after, he added a woodpecker to the trunk, wishing it would peck Xie Jue to death.

Once finished.

He turned his head to ask Xie Jue, “What do you think?”

Xie Jue looked at it but remained silent.

Su Zhuozhi frowned. “Are you mute?”

“Didn’t the young master tell me to shut up?”

Su Zhuozhi choked on his words, then retorted irritably, “I permit you to speak now.”

Xie Jue’s expression remained unchanged, and his voice, devoid of inflection, praised, “The young master’s painting is excellent.”

Su Zhuozhi’s lips curved in satisfaction. “I think so too, especially this tree. It truly resembles you.”

His mood improved slightly. He casually picked up a lotus pastry and put it into his mouth. The chef’s skill was evident; it was crispy and sweet. As he took a bite, many crumbs fell, and he instinctively leaned forward, catching them with his other hand.

Qingping was astonished, staring wide-eyed at Xie Jue. How impressive! He managed to appease the young master. Could his earlier words have been intentional?

Xie Jue, too, was surprised by this outcome. He had to admit, the young master was indeed very easy to coax.

After finishing a pastry, Su Zhuozhi continued to paint as he pleased, but for some unknown reason, he suddenly started to hiccup. Every so often, his entire body would tremble, causing the sheep-hair brush in his hand to jolt and splatter stray ink dots. He couldn’t continue painting, and it was quite uncomfortable.

Su Zhuozhi placed his brush on the brush rest, took several deep breaths, trying to stop the hiccups, but to no avail.

Qingping suggested, “Young Master, try drinking some water?”

Su Zhuozhi picked up the tea cup, tilted his head back, and gulped down the entire cup of warm tea.

He waited for a moment.

“Hic.”

Still no effect.

Frustration flickered in Su Zhuozhi’s eyes. “Why won’t it stop? Is there no other way?”

Qingping started towards the door. “I’ll go call the doctor.”

Just then, a long, slender arm reached from behind Su Zhuozhi, sweeping over his shoulder, and suddenly covered his mouth and nose.

Su Zhuozhi was startled, instinctively struggling, but the hand was large and powerful, easily covering most of his face, leaving only a pair of startled, moist eyes visible.

His breathing quickly became difficult. He couldn’t catch his breath, feeling suffocated and unbearable. He shook his head, unable to help but let out a low whimper, like a small kitten mewling after being caught by the scruff of its neck by a beast—frightened and pitiful.

Qingping’s terrified cry reached his ears, “Xie Jue, what are you doing? Let go of the young master!”

He frantically ran to pull Xie Jue’s arm, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t move it an inch.

Su Zhuozhi forcefully tilted his head back, vaguely seeing Xie Jue’s impassive face, and couldn’t help but think—’Is he retaliating maliciously because he couldn’t stand being difficult? How dare he defy his superior?!’

Su Zhuozhi grew angry, struggling even harder to pry off Xie Jue’s hand. The next second, however, Xie Jue used his other hand to firmly secure his waist and back, pressing him forward. His chest was forced against the edge of the table, rendering him completely immobile.

Just as he suspected he was about to be killed, the hand suddenly released him. He lost his support and slumped, sprawling on the table, gasping for air, feeling as if he had narrowly escaped death. Once he had somewhat recovered, he immediately sat up, turned back, and glared furiously at Xie Jue, his cheeks flushed like peach blossoms, preparing to question and punish him.

But Xie Jue spoke first, “This is a method I know; it’s very effective for treating hiccups.”

Now that he mentioned it, it seemed… it really had stopped?

Su Zhuozhi froze, then noticed the several scratch marks on Xie Jue’s hand, inflicted by himself, which appeared to be bleeding. His accusatory words swirled in his mouth before he swallowed them back. After a pause, he merely kicked Xie Jue with some displeasure, grumbling, “Even so, you should have asked me first, instead of acting on your own…”

“My apologies, it was thoughtless of me. I startled the young master,” Xie Jue said.

Su Zhuozhi was just contemplating using this as an excuse to dismiss him, but hearing that, he was immediately provoked. How could he possibly admit to being startled? He decisively shook his head and said, “How could such a small matter scare me? You underestimate me. Alright, you did well.”

“Thank you for the compliment, Young Master. It was my duty.”

“Go stand in the corner, reflect on your actions, and don’t let it happen again.” Although Xie Jue’s intentions were good, Su Zhuozhi was displeased at being treated that way and couldn’t let it pass without some form of reprimand.

“…Yes.” Xie Jue complied, going to stand in the corner as punishment.

From the outcome, Xie Jue had indeed helped the young master stop his hiccups, but his method was clearly presumptuous and offensive. Even a severe punishment would have been reasonable. Yet, Su Zhuozhi dismissed it so simply, without any intention of further investigation. The so-called spoiled and arrogant scion was merely a pretty boy with a bit of a temper, innocent and naive. Even when he acted difficult or scolded others, there was no real malice, making it seem as ridiculous as playing house.

He had never truly witnessed genuine humiliation or suffering. If he were to catch a glimpse of true darkness, he would likely be terrified, trembling all over, and crying pitifully.

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