Over the past month, she slowly adapted to the identity of Ye Zhi, going with the flow.
No, it’s more like confronting challenges head-on; if she truly went with the flow, she’d end up torn apart...
Damn the author of the novel.
A fleeting gleam of cold light flashed in her eyes, and she resolved to do her best to honor her parents, respect her siblings, and truly become Ye Zhi.
"Miss, are you quenched? If it’s not enough, Ah Tao can ask the waiter to bring another bowl of snow pear and osmanthus syrup. What do you think?"
Ah Tao blinked her big, round eyes; seeing the miss sitting in silence, she gently asked.
In such hot weather, even she found one bowl insufficient, let alone her own miss.
At the moment, Ah Tao forgot she was thirteen, while her miss was only seven... the six-year age difference placed her a head taller than Ye Zhi.
She waved her hand, the melancholy in her eyes persisting, "No more, I’m full. If you want another bowl, go ahead and order one."
She thought of her own pitiful death. The sight of these delicacies before her offered no appetite.
Sensing her gloom, Ah Tao said nothing, allowing her miss some quiet time.
She wasn’t speaking, yet that didn’t mean her mouth was idle; she grabbed a peach blossom cake from the table with her delicate hand and popped it into her mouth.
Mmm, delicious~
No wonder it’s a famous brand from the Capital City: sweet but not cloying, fragrant with peach scent, small and delicate. One bite made you crave another.
Using a finely crafted plum blossom-handled silver spoon, she scooped the iced rose tofu—a cool and silky treat, sweet and delightful. Though Ah Tao hadn’t attended school or engaged in poetic pursuits like scholars, she simply gave her miss a thumbs-up:
"Miss, it’s delicious. Next time I want to come with you again."
She spoke while revealing a charmingly naive smile, which was infectious.
"Alright, if you want more, order them. Your miss still has money for desserts." Ye Zhi felt a pang for Ah Tao because she knew her future fate.
When she died, it was her loyal maidservant who managed her burial; later, she built a house near her grave, soon following her master to the grave.
At the time, she joked how could there be such a maidservant, little realizing she would be right before her eyes...
Her family was falsely accused of embezzlement, exiled to Fuyang, unable to return, not seeing her one last time.
Thinking about it made her sorrowful;
Unlike the bustling main streets of Jingzhao.
Now set in a quiet large alleyway entrance.
Under the willow trees.
A group of three to five young dandies, dressed in brocade and satin, extraordinary in appearance, formed a circle holding hands around a companion, chanting nursery rhymes:
"Little flower kid, wearing floral clothes, with parents and floral clothes, eats well, sleeps warmly, without parents like a weed.
..."
The one surrounded, about eight years old, had eyebrows like little swords and a pair of amber eyes, seemingly able to pull others into the whirlpool of his gaze. A delicate nose, cherry red lips, clothed in off-white robes outlined his slender form, a fragile and pitiful young master.
To the uninformed, they might assume he was a graceful little girl. His name was Shen Chen, originally from Hu City, living in the Capital City since childhood, with parents deceased.
At this time, his fair face was expressionless, neither humble nor overbearing, but his eyes inadvertently showed hurt. Only he knew it.
"Hit him, the little orphan without parents..."
"Right, I’ll go first."
A boy in light blue clothes pushed Shen Chen first, exerting significant force; the pushed person staggered back several steps.
Despite being bullied, he remained silent, lips pursed, head down watching the gray square stones beneath, without a word.
"Hey, Li Du, didn’t you eat? Couldn’t push anyone over,"
Jeered another young man in yellow clothing. Dressed in a gold silk cloud pattern embroidered crane robe, wielding a filigree gold-edged Jiangnan ink iron fan, hair tied high with a gold hairpin, standing with remarkable presence.