“Passive effect unlocked: [Ultimate Charm]. Within a fifty-meter radius of the host, others’ initial favorability toward the host will never be lower than 60/100. Strangers meeting the host for the first time will develop an intense fondness for and sense of dependence on the host.”
“Passive effect unlocked: [Nature’s Favor]. Nonhuman creatures—animals and plants—will feel an affinity for the host, increasing the likelihood that they will voluntarily approach the host by 500%.”
“Passive effect unlocked: [Fortune’s Blessing]. The host’s chances of receiving fate’s favor at critical moments have increased by 30%.”
“Ding! The main quest of the Appearance Attribute System has been completed. The system will enter maintenance mode and come back online in the next world. During maintenance, one appearance attribute point will still be awarded automatically each month. However, the host’s appearance can no longer be improved, so accumulated attribute points will be converted into Fortune. Current Fortune: 0/1000.”
Shi Huai stood before the bronze mirror and remained silent for a long time.
Qinghe picked up the copper basin and squatted down to wipe up the water on the floor. As she wiped, she suddenly burst into tears with a loud sob, startling Shi Huai.
“Sister Qinghe, what’s wrong?”
Shi Huai turned around, squatted down, and looked straight at Qinghe’s tear-streaked face.
Qinghe raised her head and stared through tear-blurred eyes at the face before her. Then she began crying even harder.
“Young Master, sob… How… how could you grow up looking like this… sob… How am I supposed to look at other men after this?”
Shi Huai was both amused and exasperated. He reached out and wiped the tears from her face.
“Then don’t look at other men.”
“But how can I do that? I still have to get married!” Qinghe wailed even louder.
“Didn’t you say you didn’t want to get married?”
“That was before! Now I do! Because I know there’s no way I could ever marry Young Master, I have to hurry up and find someone who’s at least close enough!”
Qinghe declared this with complete conviction, tears and mucus covering her face.
Shi Huai opened his mouth, then decided it would be better to keep quiet.
Hearing the crying, Nanny Zhou hurried over. When she pushed open the door, she saw Qinghe crouched on the floor, sobbing, while Shi Huai squatted in front of her with an utterly helpless expression.
“What happened here?”
Nanny Zhou walked over, but the moment her eyes fell on Shi Huai’s face, her entire body froze as if someone had sealed her acupoints.
Her hand went slack. The bowl of porridge she had been carrying crashed to the ground and shattered into several pieces, splattering rice porridge everywhere.
“Nanny Zhou, you dropped a bowl too,” Shi Huai said, rising to his feet with a helpless sigh.
Nanny Zhou stood there with her mouth hanging open, staring at Shi Huai’s face. Her lips trembled for a long while before she finally managed to utter two words.
“Oh, heavens…”
Shi Huai decided that, apparently, this morning was not a good time to stay indoors. So he decided to go out.
“Sister Qinghe, stop crying. Help me change clothes. I’m going to pay my respects to Father.”
Qinghe sniffed, rose from the floor, and roughly wiped her face with her sleeve before walking over to help Shi Huai change.
Her hands trembled the entire time. It took her three tries to fasten the buttons and four attempts to tie the sash properly. Finally, she stepped back to inspect him, then rushed forward and tied it all over again.
“Sister Qinghe, if you keep tightening it, you’re going to snap my waist,” Shi Huai said helplessly.
Qinghe blushed and loosened her grip. She retreated to the side and lowered her head, afraid to look at him.
Shi Huai straightened his collar, left the inner chamber, crossed the courtyard of Shou’an Hall, and headed toward the main courtyard.
The mornings in the second month of the year were still a little chilly. The old locust tree in the courtyard had begun sprouting new leaves, their tender green catching the light of dawn.
Shi Huai walked along the flagstone path. The morning breeze blew in from the east, lifting the loose strands of hair at his temples and fluttering the hem of his robe.
A young servant sweeping the path looked up. The broom slipped from his hands with a smack, and his mouth opened wide enough to fit a fist.
He stared blankly as Shi Huai walked past, his entire body motionless as if he had been frozen by a spell.
A maid carrying a tea tray came down the corridor from the opposite direction. When she spotted Shi Huai from afar, she stumbled. The tea tray flew from her hands, and the teacups spun through the air several times before crashing to the ground in a noisy shower of porcelain.
She did not even stop to pick them up. She simply stood there with both hands over her mouth, eyes as wide as bells, watching Shi Huai walk past.
In the garden, a gardener was pruning the branches of a flower bush. Hearing footsteps, he looked up—and the shears in his hand snipped cleanly through a perfectly good branch.
He did not seem to notice at all. He simply stood there holding the shears, his jaw practically dropping to the ground.
An orange cat was crouched on top of the wall, half asleep. When Shi Huai passed by, its ears suddenly perked up. Its round eyes followed Shi Huai’s figure, and then it let out a loud meow before leaping down from the wall and following closely at his feet.
“Ding! [Nature’s Favor] activated. Number of affectionate creatures currently within range: 1 (orange cat).”
Shi Huai glanced down at the orange cat. It tilted its head up at him, eyes shining brightly, tail held straight in the air as it meowed over and over.
“What’s your name?” Shi Huai stopped, squatted down, and stroked the cat’s head.
The orange cat narrowed its eyes in contentment, purring as it rubbed against his palm and refused to leave.
“No name? Then I’ll give you one. How about… Tangerine?” Shi Huai tilted his head, thinking.
The orange cat meowed once, as if agreeing.
“Tangerine, I’m going to pay my respects to Father. You shouldn’t follow me.”
Shi Huai stood up and continued forward.
Tangerine did not follow him.
Instead, it ran ahead and crouched by the gate to the main courtyard, waiting for him.
When Shi Huai reached the entrance, he noticed that the main courtyard was unusually quiet today.
The two maids standing by the gate saw him. One covered her mouth, while the other turned and ran, nearly colliding with a corridor pillar.
“What’s gotten into everyone?” Shi Huai muttered before stepping into the courtyard.
Shi Yuanzhi was seated at the table, eating breakfast. In front of him were seven or eight small dishes, a bowl of porridge, and two steamed buns.
When he heard footsteps, he looked up. The chopsticks in his hand fell onto the table with a clatter, and his elbow knocked over the bowl of porridge. Rice porridge spread across the tabletop and flowed over the edge onto his robe, yet he did not seem to notice.
“Father, you spilled your porridge,” Shi Huai pointed out, gesturing toward the puddle of porridge on the table.
Shi Yuanzhi came back to himself. He looked down at his robe, then at the mess on the table, his voice strangely unsteady.
“Huai’er, did you… not sleep well last night?”
“I slept fine. I was out like a light until morning.”
Shi Huai walked over and sat down across from him, tilting his head as he looked at his father.
“Father, what’s wrong with you today? You don’t look so good.”
Shi Yuanzhi stared at Shi Huai’s face for a full ten breaths before swallowing hard.
Then he picked up the teacup on the table and took a sip, only to discover that it was completely empty.
“Father, that cup is empty,” Shi Huai reminded him, unable to hold back.
Shi Yuanzhi set down the cup and drew a deep breath. Then he drew another, as if trying to suppress the surging emotions within him.
“Huai’er, are you… feeling unwell somewhere? Should I send for a physician?”
“Father, I’m perfectly fine. Nothing’s wrong with me.” Shi Huai was beginning to feel helpless.
“Then your face… how did it…”
