Chapter 62: Allow Your Mother Handle Me
Anning followed Han Luo and the other guards out of the chamber the moment they finished speaking, her footsteps were quiet against the floors.
She kept her gaze lowered, her eyes tracing the patterns of the polished floors. Han Luo’s words still echoed in her head, ’That’s the problem.’
What did he mean by that?
Anning didn’t need anyone to care for her or protect her. She hated the idea of being someone’s burden. Even if, deep down, she already was.
The group moved through the busy halls of the residence. The guards discussed amongst themselves in hushed voices, sharing inside jokes and talking about their shifts.
Even the maids and servants that passed by in small clusters, had their heads bent together as they gossiped. Everyone belonged somehow. They all had their own place.
Everyone, except her.
Anning’s lips pressed into a thin line. She was the odd one out...she had silver hair, had a slight accent, a constant reminder that she didn’t fit here.
She hadn’t wanted her entire life to revolve around Wanqing. But what life did she even have?
The people here called her a foreigner, when in fact she didn’t even belong in this time line. The thought sat heavy in her chest, making it hard to breathe as she walked.
When they finally stopped in front of Wanqing’s room, Han Luo turned to her. "You should go in." He said softly.
Anning hesitated, shifting her weight from one leg to another. "Does the Young Miss actually want to see me now?"
Han Luo studied her face for a moment. She must be looking all tired and drained, because his expression instantly softened. He reached out and gently patted the top of her head.
Anning wasn’t in the mood to snap at him. Heck, she shouldn’t even be allowing him to touch her like this. They weren’t friends.
"Just please don’t make her angry today." He muttered. "She’s already carrying so much. She doesn’t need more stress on her shoulders."
Anning stared at the floor, then gave a small nod. She stepped away from him, took a steadying breath, and slid the door open. As she crossed the threshold, she heard a soft whisper behind her, "Such a pitiful soul."
She frowned, pitiful? She wasn’t pitiful. Anyone thrown into an unknown world with no friends, no allies, and constant reminders of how low their status was, would feel this lost.
She stepped into the room, facing the door for a few seconds, scared to turn around. She was scared of how Wanqing might look at her.
Finally, she closed the door with a soft click and forced herself to turn around.
The sight in front of her hit her harder than expected.
Wanqing sat on the edge of the bed in nothing but her thin undergarments. The low neckline pushed her chest forward, and her smooth skin glistened with oil under the soft lantern light.
Her head was tilted back, eyes closed with her long black hair slightly sticking to her damp forehead.
A maid was kneeling at her feet, carefully working oil into Wanqing’s legs with slow, deliberate strokes. The girl’s eyes gleamed with something that looked far too pleased with the task.
Anning shut her eyes closed, biting the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste blood. Then she forced a polite bow and said evenly, "Young miss, I’m back."
Wanqing didn’t open her eyes, but the maid at her feet let out a small snort.
Anning’s hands clasped behind her back, curled into tight fists. She had promised herself earlier, after getting kidnapped and having that headache. She would try to be polite.
But seeing this? She could feel that promise crumbling.
Call her a hypocrite, but she couldn’t just swallow it.
She tilted her head at the maid. "Do you have a problem with me?"
The maid paused her movements and turned to fully face her, eyes narrowed.
"The young miss doesn’t want any visitors today. That includes her...slave."
Anning almost laughed. They branded her a slave and now Wanqing suddenly wanted nothing to do with her? She crouched down to the maid’s level, pushing a strand of her silver hair behind her ear.
Then her voice dropped into a low whisper as she spoke, "I need you to leave this room the moment I finish speaking. You will walk out that door, not look back and you wouldn’t say another word to me. If you refuse, I’d merely drag you out of here by the hair."
She stared straight into the maid’s eyes, letting her own moss-green eyes go cold and blank. The girl swallowed visibly, color draining from her face.
Wanqing took that exact moment to crack one eye open.
"Are you going to keep waddling around down there, or are you going to finish what you were doing?" asked Wanqing.
The maid’s head snapped towards Wanqing, then back to Anning. Just as she was thinking of what to do, Anning slowly rose to her feet and crossed her arms against her chest.
The maid scrambled to her feet in panic and blurted out with a trembling voice. "You miss, I’m so sorry. She just threatened me and said she’d make me leave if I didn’t do it myself."
Anning bit on her lower lip, the edge of her mouth curving slightly. When she had said that earlier, she never expected the maids to actually do it.
With that, the girl bolted for the door, nearly tripping over her own feet as she slid the door shut behind her.
With the maid now gone, the room fell silent.
Wanqing watched the closed door, then turned her attention to Anning. She rested her chin against her knees studying Anning with those sharp, unreadable, black eyes.
"Who gave you the right to do that?" Asked Wanqing.
Anning met her gaze, her heart still pounding from the whole confrontation. She could feel the tension crackling in the air between them.
Part of her wanted to snap back, but the other part of her was tangled in guilt, making her hold her tongue for a moment.
She glanced at Wanqing’s oiled skin, she could see the edge of her bandages visible beneath her inner garments, and felt that familiar twist in her stomach.
"I came back like you asked," Anning said finally, keeping her voice steady. "And that girl was actually like she owned the room, not to forget the fact that she was enjoying herself too much. I just had to put her in her place."
Wanqing raised a brow at her slightly. She shifted on the bed, wincing slightly as the movement only caused her pain.
"You aren’t in a position to do that. I asked her to apply oil on me, because it helps ease my stiff muscles." Wanqing explained.
Then frowned, why did she see the need to explain herself to Anning?
Anning was just her slave, someone beneath her.
Anning said took a step closer, her eyes tracing the lines of Wanqing’s shoulder.
"Does it? Or was she just happy to have her hands all over you?"
The words slipped out of her mouth sharper than she had intended. But regretted them instantly.
Wanqing let out a short, amused chuckle. "Jealousy doesn’t suit you, tiger." She said, tilting her head back as her black hair fell over one shoulder. "Or is this your way of saying you’re worried?"
Anning felt blood rush to her cheek. She looked away toward the window, where she could now see the moon.
"Why should I be worried? After what your mother did to me? Or after that guard whacked me in the head?" Her voice cracked slightly at the last part.
She hadn’t meant to say that much, but the words just kept coming. "I don’t want to be the reason you keep getting hurt. But I also don’t want to disappear like everyone keeps telling me to."
Wanqing stayed quiet for a long moment. The oil on her skin glistened slightly, making her look fragile despite how indifferent she usually was.
She lowered her legs off the bed, trying her best to stand. "You think too highly of yourself. My father made his choice and so did my mother. Not everything revolved around you, Anning."
Her tone lacked its usual bite. Anning noticed it but was slightly glad she didn’t sound exhausted anymore.
But she did notice the way Wanqing’s fingers tighten around the edge of the bed a little tighter than necessary.
Anning stepped closer to her, crouched down and picked up the small bottle of oil the maid had left behind.
"Then why did you send Han Luo to get me back?" She tilted her head to the sides, staring up and into Wanqing’s eyes. "If I’m such a problem to you, allow your mother to handle me."
Wanqing stared at the bottle in Anning’s hand, then at Anning’s face. For once, she didn’t know what to say.
Instead, she reached out and took the bottle, their finger’s brushing. The contact sent a small jolt through Anning.
"Because," Wanqing said softly, almost to herself, "You’re more trouble when you’re out of my sight."
